That is us! Super Slade, Mighty Mae, and I am Awesome Amber! We are the Terrific Trio and we are here to save the universe one person at a time!

Or so we thought…

This is the third blog that I have started. You can follow all my others if you would like to somewhat follow my struggles. I have the Chronicles of Nothing Spectacular, where it ALL began. When my sons father and I ended and I was told to start blogging because my therapist read my journal and she insisted I was just too good for paper.


Then we have the Chronicles of Someone Spectacular, which I started after my daughter’s father has his… 769984598 (exaggeration) relapse and my mother died. You can really see my mental growth and I feel that my writing got stronger in that one as I gained more confidence writing as I gained more viewers!


I look forward to starting this new chapter! I am… or am in the process of weightloss, I have lost over 100 lbs. I am still working and don’t plan to stop. I will make a blog on the process. I want to keep this one welcoming.


I am so much stronger than when I first came into this. I am down to a circle of maybe… 2 local friends. I want the world to know to cope parenting with PTSD and various disorders and with grief. I plan on joining support groups which SCARES me. I want my fans to join in that with me. So, share my blog. Let me know you are here. Follow all 3 for updates and information! Make me famous! ❤

This is my last Chronicle. Onto the next Chapter.

The Chronicles of Nothing Spectacular

Three Months… It takes only 3 months to feel like you have lost control of everything in your life. Everything has spiraled so out of control that I cant seem to grasp at the loose sand that I have buried myself in. I have never opened my eyes in the morning craving redirection, a way out, an escape like I have. I tell myself that I have gone through worse… but at what time does the heart stop? Do your lungs cave in? Do you just give up?

From death, to abuse, to relationships, to friends, to enemies, to internet harassment… The past 3 months has been nothing but day after day torment and someone up in the sky is watching over me, because If I didn’t have my children… I would be dead.

No, this isn’t for pity. I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me, I do…

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This is my last Chronicle. Onto the next Chapter.

Three Months… It takes only 3 months to feel like you have lost control of everything in your life. Everything has spiraled so out of control that I cant seem to grasp at the loose sand that I have buried myself in. I have never opened my eyes in the morning craving redirection, a way out, an escape like I have. I tell myself that I have gone through worse… but at what time does the heart stop? Do your lungs cave in? Do you just give up?

From death, to abuse, to relationships, to friends, to enemies, to internet harassment… The past 3 months has been nothing but day after day torment and someone up in the sky is watching over me, because If I didn’t have my children… I would be dead.

No, this isn’t for pity. I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me, I do plenty of that on my own. This is to hopefully bring awareness to how you act and treat people. I have been publicly humiliated for someone else’s personal enjoyment. My heart was dragged on pavement by a string because I was stupid enough to allow it. My life is empty because anyone I give a damn about is over 1,000 miles away. You can say you will be there for me all you want but I will never have things that other people have.

I look in the mirror and I HATE the person that is looking back at me. I see a woman, who wants to change the past. I see a mother who has little to none of her shit together. I see a human who pushes away anyone that has ever loved her. I see a hallucinogenic psychopath. I see a whore. I see a hypo dramatic lunatic. I see someone no one defends. I see a fat sack of saggy skin. I see tired eyes and a dyke haircut. I see someone who is empty. I see someone who will never be good enough. I see myself giving myself the same pep talk over and over again, but now my positivity sounds like a broken record and I feel like I will tell myself anything to sleep at night. I see failure.

You see, I suffer from borderline personality disorder. No. I do not walk around as separate identities. Do your research before judging. I have a black and white mentality. I either love myself or I don’t. I am either there for you or I am not. One small thing can set me back in a downward spiral for weeks. I have bipolar episodes in minutes. I could be the happiest person in the room, and then the most insecure and angry human in the world. I have literally pushed away every single person I loved. I destroyed a family relationship at some of the most critical times of my life. I only have safe family ties 1,000 miles away. Sometimes I just want them to come and hug me, sometimes I don’t want anyone there at all. I find that my children are my only peace, I am in control of who hurts them… and when they do I turn “hyper dramatic” in a split second. I act before I think. I cry myself to sleep 4 out of 7 nights a week. Sometimes for no reason…. I mean the list of my “crazy” can go on.

Why am I sharing this with you WordPress? Well, my blog is labeled the “Chronicles of Nothing Spectacular”. The title is the truth and I want others to see that most people fight their own war deep sown within themselves I got married thinking that ALL of me would be supported. And I was not, in fact half the reason I feel the way that I do is because the town that I live in TAUNTS me as being this whore, or hyper dramatic, or something to that affect. While I sit there and say “yeah he was just too immature and we grew apart instead of together”. It has been 2 years and I am still broken every day. I feel disgusting. One week I fall for the cries and pleas to “try to make this work” and I let myself be dragged along like a sick puppy. I was tormented online by people who used to be MY friends that are now only his and they publicly blasted humiliating information about me all over the internet which I guarantee at least 30 people have screen shots, and if I could just leave this place and change my name I would… Who defended me? Who let someone call me fat whenever I wasn’t around?  Who stood up to the “bully” and told them they were wrong? That I am a good person, that I am a good mother, and I DESERVE to live just like everyone else? Strangers… 3 strangers defended me. Thank you strangers.

Who showed up to try to work out custody agreements and divorce agreements and prove his maturity covered in hickies? Not me. You can put your hickies elsewhere. I don’t need them to be showcased as if they wouldn’t mentally destroy someone. Considering a week prior you were trying to get back with me. But I guess in a week I became a disgusting human being yet again. I must have done something repulsive like, asked you to talk to me and have a conversation. Who knows the image that I have on that end. Another person that has no idea who I am probably tiptoes around me like I am ready to attack them like the wild psycho banshee I am. OOOOO I work 50 hour weeks, I mom, and I sit alone at home. I fight for you to have a full conversation and I nag and bitch. My bad.

Again the above statement is me being hyper dramatic and I will just move forward.

If you have ever lost a parent… let alone 2. You know the turmoil that causes in life. Well. I am alone here. I wake up every morning, Call my voicemail. Listen to a saved recording of my mom to hear her voice. Then I think of the smell of the gangrene. Then I think of how within a week the person I thought loved me the most went behind my back and snuck around to get paperwork written up and see a lawyer about a divorce that he ignored in the first place. Who came to me on our anniversary a WEEK after I lost my mother and blamed nanny abuse on my poor judgement of character?! IN MY HOME. Who looked me in the eyes and told me that they didn’t have the time to say goodbye to my mother but had the time to help a friend move couches for hours and just so happen to have a game controller fall within his hand? Oh yeah… this is also not me. So now we are purposely trying to cause a broken human the worst possible emotional pain on the planet… to better fit YOUR needs and what YOU want. Yet, somehow… someway I am supposed to believe you when you tell me I need to stay here because you will be there for me…. Let me count the ways your words have no validation.

To the friends. I am so utterly blessed to have the people in my life that I do. Sometimes I don’t appreciate it enough because I lack the boundaries to see what is right in front of me. I know that when my mom died I had people drive over 1,000 miles to see me, to support me, to be there for me.  I have friends right up the road that didn’t feel the same way. When it comes to my friendship I go above and beyond and I am just now, at 27 years old getting to where I can step back and KNOW that I am being taken advantage of. I cherish everything a friend does for me. I really need people… and yet I sit alone. I am not saying to put your life on hold. But just know, that I don’t know how people are supposed to feel and act in most cases so if the tables are turned you will have to tell me to go away, because I will be all over you to make sure you don’t want to bite a bullet every morning.

“But Amber, your mom did such terrible things to you” Yeah, I know. Which goes back to my feelings when I look in the mirror. If she had never had me, I wouldn’t have ruined lives, I wouldn’t have hurt people, I wouldn’t have disappointed her, she probably would have been proud of me for something, and maybe… just maybe… I would feel like I had some type of worth. Ya see the problem with why it is hitting me so hard is… I WANTED her so bad. I craved to have a normal mother relationship. I CRAVED it. I feel like 2 weeks before she died was the most genuine she ever was speaking to me… it was not the addiction, it wasn’t her level of crazy, it was just my mom… I have the right to feel as broken as I do. I feel that every single one of you would feel this way too.

I stopped using Facebook, at least for anything other than my kids. I have 20 friends on there and I won’t have any more than that. I was told that I treat Facebook like a parent. I have always used it as a Segway into validation and well this entire blog is doing the same thing… but I have done nothing but sit and think for days and I am at my breaking point. I am tired of sitting in shadows hoping that someone will just hear me, defend me, see me.

My children are the only thing in the world that make me feel beautiful. I pray that no matter what the future holds that they will never feel an OUNCE of the pain I do… and so help me god, If you hurt my child or break their hearts and I am alive to see it I will break your skull. I am having a hard-enough time dealing with my son’s separation anxiety that he has from being stood up one too many times.

When I do open my heart, I am clearly not intelligent because I think people feel things for me that they don’t. The only person on the planet that I felt 100% gave me their all in being there as a support system, never really felt the way I thought he felt about me. If that makes any sense. “You need someone better” No… I don’t NEED anything. I felt complete and now I feel broken. Those are important feelings and clearly it wasn’t reciprocated. Lesson learned Amber Lesson learned.

So, that is it guys. It’s why I have been MIA. Everyone wants to call and have me talk about it. I don’t want to talk anymore. I can’t talk anymore, it only opens the scab and literally I start shaking. My anxiety is just too out of control, my life is out of control, my mind is out of control… I can’t change any of this… all I can do is change the outcome of how I will handle tomorrow. My goal for tomorrow is to still not talk about it. I want to be numb.

This will be the last entry in The Chronicles of Nothing Spectacular. It is time to move on from all of this. I just won’t sit in silence anymore… So, might as well go out with a bang and delete everything before I am flooded with hate letters.

When will I feel nothing?

When will I wake up and feel nothing?

When will the nothing that I have become, take hold?

I find myself falling into the pathway of abuse…

time and time again.

Why can’t I just stop this terrible cycle?

Each time I think I am stronger than yesterday…

I’m not.

Each time I fight harder than yesterday….

I lose.

Each time I think of all you have put me through…

I die.

When will this life of agony be replaced with the satisfaction

of YOUR misery?

When will Justice take its course?

When will I defeat these demons that take my future’s hold?

When will the thoughts in this story make sense?

Why can’t I just stop my thoughts?

Can’t I just give up already?

I am strong for you… but who is strong for me?

I am tired of living each and every day,

showered in my misery.

Excoriation… Dermatillomaniac

Excoriation disorder is a mental disorder characterized by the repeated urge to pick at one’s own skin, often to the extent that damage is caused.

Hi! I am Amber, and I am a Dermatillomaniac.


When the anxiety sets in, to a point that you lose track of your thoughts, what is it that you do with your hands? I find myself getting lost in time by hours when my anxiety is high enough. I know as a younger kid I was pretty violent, I would punch things, I would bite my nails so far down that like I have permanently destroyed the base of my fingers and without Acrylics, I can not have nice nails. I used to rip out my hair to the point that now it serves no purpose because I can not feel the nerves in my scalp. I have tried cutting… but then I felt that I would just reopen the wound to the point of infection. The infection hurt worse than trying to just ease the pain in that moment.

I have gone through life for a long time, hiding my dermatillomania until I met a new group of friends that really brought to my attention that when I was upset, my impulsive skin picking bothered them. Not to the point of non acceptance, but to the point that seeing me in an obsessive state was breaking their hearts. One because I will sit there and bleed, and it tends to get nasty. Two, because I would dig and dig into an already open sore. I usually lie about “a scab itching me” or “the skin that was hanging” was bothering me. Let’s be real, there are NO scabs at this point. I subconsciously dig at myself, thinking that it helps when it doesn’t.

Coming forward with a condition like this is pretty…. empowering. Which, it has taken me 27 years to think that way… but… BABY STEPS. I have been told that it appears I have Syphilis, Herpes, that I could be on meth, that I am dirty, I mean the list in all honesty can go on. The one about Meth kind of hits a little harder for me because I am not a skinny person, and I feel like if I was on meth, I would be at the weight I have been attempting to get to. But, to each there own. Why would you look at someone like me and disregard an actual mental condition? I see now it is almost like an addiction. I have never been an addict, but I know that inner urge that you can’t control. I get it.

I guess the whole point of this blog in particular, is…

I know I am not the only person on the planet that has this disorder. I know how the satisfaction behind the pain keeps you level in knowing that what you are feeling is validated. I know that sometimes you have no idea you have even done it, until there is blood on something. I know that the urge is so deep within you that you feel your body is the only thing on the planet you can control. I feel you. I validate you. I am here for you.

I am beautiful. Scabs and all.


Perhaps if everyone worked together a little more to balance each other, more people would notice when you are literally digging at yourself from the outside in. I have 2 people in my life that see my skin and ask me if I need to talk… They know. The worse my skin the harder the battle.

There are so many hidden illnesses that people fight on a daily basis. Lift each other.



I used to only target my legs, I felt like no one could see it. However, I find now I focus on my arms without even knowing.


Lucky for me I have freckles, but you can see the scarring.


My chin takes the blunt. I “create” acne. Like one blemish turns into this and then I can’t leave it alone.


The healing process is the worst. I use a lot of natural remedies to try to heal faster.


my finger points to my first scar. It is box shaped. It was literally done with a paper clip that I picked until it marked me permanently. I was 13 when I did this.


I have permanent scars all over.

Don’t be afraid to embrace who you are. The good the bad and the ugly.

Somebody Save me…

I find that in this world we are smacked in the face with new demons every day. As more things in my life reach the surface I find myself barely staying afloat. Why? Why, does everything have to just always be so damn complicated? Like can’t we just live? Can’t we stop the worry and fear for all that is around us ALL the time? I feel, I fear taking one step forward because I end up falling 10 steps behind. I have dreams, I have ambitions, I have a purpose. I am spectacular, and I know it. There is more to me than just being a female in this seemingly apathetic world.


I crave to feel the bones and joints that I hide beneath my skin. I no longer feel like I belong within myself, let alone in this world that trapped me in. I wake up, and find myself wondering, effortlessly, lost within the time. I do not think that anybody, has the strength to make it out alive. I do not feel that I make sense around all the people that I know. I feel that I am screaming from top of my lungs, hidden by the shadows of the normalcy below. I cannot seem to grasp the concept that no one understands my tone. Why I feel like something is so hilarious? but I laugh at it alone. I will never seem to comprehend why the way my mind is, never matters. instead I know you mock my actions from the bottom of the shadows. I wish that for once I would open my eyes and feel the sun and love upon my face. Instead… here I am, broken and torn by the raptures of this place.

If I could simply put into words, the things that I just want to say. Maybe then I could be understood, enough to make it through the day. I feel as if I am lost at sea, trying to swim my way back home. I paddle just as hard as I can, but I know I’ll die alone. My words are tied to me like an anchor, every phrase pulling me deeper in the oceans black abyss. You still don’t hear the things I am screaming, I can’t let you see me like this. As I am left to sink to the bottom, my thoughts still heavy at my feet. I feel the utter suffocation, as the water and my lungs, meet.

All I needed was some validation, and someone to let me know my voice was heard. Instead I let the anxiety hold me down, and sanity go absurd. There must be more to life than this, I can’t keep living by the moment. I know that I am worth so much more, than a daily dose of torment.

I am Proud to be a Mormon-ican!

I’m a Mormon.

So, on a topic that I heard the other day, I feel that even in 2017 I am falsely judged for something others don’t know anything about. I was baptized 3 years ago, I became a member of the church, and since then I have had my ups and downs and ins and outs with my personal religion…. However, I am Mormon and I am Hella proud.

I can remember before my conversion sitting there with the missionaries (the women often compared to JH Witnesses) asking them all the questions that I had learned from south park. I mean, sacred panties? Hilarious! I had everyone cracking up. Until I joined… I have learned over the last 3 years the importance of all that they do… I have made a new family, and I am proud.

So, let’s start here shall we? I am NOT a Polygamist. While I find their lives comical, those lifestyles were outlawed in the 1800’s. Again… its 2017 for the ones in the back that can’t hear me. Mormons were out casted, and often the spouses were killed or would be gone for months at a time. The men at the time would “claim” several wives and to begin with it was totally platonic. He would make sure they were paid for, and taken care of, and all the women and children wouldn’t go hungry. Back it up to Adam and Eve, you think really that some horn dog out there, didn’t shack up with one of the other “wives”? Um…. DUH! Of course, someone did. Temptation at its best. So there brought on Polygamy. Which was then outlawed and all who still partook in the polygamist lifestyle, were Excommunicated from the church. So, MORMONS- The LDS ones (like me), so not go around sleeping with couples and husbands all over the land. So, spare me that chit chat.

The Temple. The wonder of all secrets. The place where we apparently rise corpses from the dead, and baptize them as our own post-mortem. Right? Nope. Not at all. In the Bible, it has a clear description of what Is inside the temple. (Not the Book of Mormon… the BIBLE). Inside it is a place to feel inner and outer peace (most comparable to meditation and yoga), and where families get sealed (married), and where we have baptisms for the dead. When a family gets sealed it is NOT “till death do us part” It is the joining together as a family (all members) for eternity. Something I hope and pray I get to share with my children one day since I am a non-married Convert. The temple is beautiful, peaceful, respectful, and whatever you feel while within is solely your own experience. Baptisms for the dead, like I stated previously, is a ceremony where we do NOT bring in corpses to sway the dead to the Mormon side. It is a ceremony that has its roots in 1st Corinthians (the bible again…. The real one) and allows a person to give the deceased the ability to CHOOSE (choice, the right, the ability, and all other words for choices) for themselves what they want in the afterlife since they may or may not have had the chance to prior to death. It brings grieving mothers peace, daughters, sons, and so on. I plan to get baptized for my mom, I feel a heaviness on her spirit and I know that she was never baptized in ANY religion. But if the bible standings are true that in order to get into heaven you must be baptized, I think it is only right for the DEAD to make that choice. They may be having a great ol’ time in Limbo… You never know.

I WEAR NORMAL PANTIES! I REPEAT : I wear normal panties!!!! I have so many people ask if I am wearing my Sacred panties or Magic Underwear. Most people in 2017 wear their Temple Garments (that is the legit term) while in the temple or at church only. It is merely a reminder of the promises we made within the temple. Purity. Something Sacred. A Commitment with God. People don’t see that there are more layers than the underwear… If you are doing something spiritual and you are wearing a Robe, it the same thing, except We wear clothes that are considered “pure” throughout the whole outfit. YES, missionaries wear them, because they are out on their missions to learn to be servants for god and their families (don’t misuse my term of servants). I remember when my missionary sisters would come to my home, they wanted to wash dishes, fold clothes, learn about how I parent my child, and they became my friends. The Sisters are learning how to be proper wives, and the Elders (that’s men!) are learning how to be proper husbands. The church is ALL about families if you break it down. I don’t know about you but when my kids hit 18 I would rather them travel and share the word of God and learn to care for their own family…. Rather than do HALF the stuff that you see kids these days do. HELL, I wish I had this when I was 18. I would have been so much further in life. I would have been something sooner!

Mormons are NOT Jehovah’s Witnesses! (I am not here to knock any religion, but you guys are persistent) We celebrate all normal holidays, and we are not going to beat your door down time and time again into out adulthood. Guess what (hold your hats) Mormons are a BRANCH of CHRISTIANITY!!!!! There I said it. All the southern Baptists telling me to go to hell on the regular or judgmental Christian Alabama folk I run into every day, you can all go do some research because Joseph Smith (who was not our “GOD”) was a…. GASP… Christian. We study from the BIBLE… You know King James, my main man. There is nothing in the Bible that we disagree with. The Book of Mormon, is an additive. Like adding sugar to your coffee (ha-ha, who gets it?). There are 4 books in total that we study! The Pearl of Great Price, The Doctrine and Covenants, The Book of Mormon AND the B.I.B.L.E. Christians believe in the Trinity, that God, Jesus and the Holy ghost are all one Identity. Mormons believe that God the father, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost are separate beings. Jesus Christ is the center of our Devotion… So, to all who didn’t know that I hope you feel like dog poo for accusing Mormons of being in some Satanic Cult. Lord knows I have had to explain that I wasn’t brainwashed in a cult several times.

This is the one that drives me the most insane…. Feminist Mormons, and Anti-Feminist Mormons, and all of us being in the “She-man, Woman, Hater Club”. Women CAN be leaders in the church, and we are not a conformity driven by men. Yes, the Priesthood (What Joseph Smith Held) is restricted to males now, at this time. But one thing I like about this religion is its forever changing. Back in the 1800’s it was common for men to get more rights than women. At the time, Joseph Smith WANTED women to have more rights and responsibilities, so he made the Women’s and children’s societies within the church. While the Men would fight our war all the women WILLINGLY got together to make them clothes, food, and all that they needed. There was no “slavery” it was a family confirmation. Have you ever seen how happy Mormons can be? Seriously, we all just help each other and get along and it is the most hope I have held for humanity in a long time.

Mormons can and DO use birth control. I don’t even know why that one matters but after I had my daughter I got some nice lectures on keeping my legs closed, and no more kids…. Uh, thanks?  No, active members practice abstinence. You know that thing they drill into your brains in public high school? So, it isn’t uncommon to see a VERY young couple get married because they want to have sex just like all the other kids. Can you picture being with someone for years and having to stop interaction every time it got hot and heavy? Most can’t do it. So, they get married they do it, and you know just like everyone else you get pregnant.  Damn this Mormon thing, and all its morals and values (sarcasm).

I honestly could sit here all day and be the one pre-realist to consider this religion, and fight all the points that are made against it daily… However, I may do some blog installments. Name it “I am proud to be a Mormonican!” Part 1,2, and 3. So feel free to ask me any questions… I promise you I will research it.

Until then remember YOUR religion belongs to YOU. Your lack of religion belongs to YOU. Your entity belongs to YOU. No one can tell you that you are wrong. No one has any write to make you feel inferior, and no one has a right to judge you for what you believe in. We live in a society where a fat man comes down our chimney once a year, commits a FELONY, but says sorry by spoiling your kids rotten… So, you keep on keeping on and believe in whatever you feel is right in your heart!

Wade Wilson is not a SuperHero

Why can’t things happen the way they do in the movies? I was sitting there watching DeadPool last night and I found that I was in awe over the fact that I literally wanted that life. Now coming from me… a non-marvel fan… that says a lot. I was struck by admiration in the constant joy that Wade Wilson had with his not so pleasant situations. I was impressed by the outcome and the overwhelming surge of good that he wanted to do in the world, while keeping on a more realistic level. “I am not a superhero, I am the good guy that is above the bad guy”. Why this movie literally stuck with me today, I have no idea. However, it made me want this life more than I have ever wanted in a fictional character.

The thing that got me the most was the love in the movie. It was so… real. They found comfort in each other, they WANTED each other, he proposed with a ring pop, I mean come on… How much does that warm your heart? Why does it have to be a fancy expensive ring? For a fancy, expensive reception? It doesn’t… Your supposed to get married to start a life together in the right ways… not already bankrupt. They loved each other for who they were. Sexually they like meshed as one person. Explored different things openly and together. It was extremely warming. Then it ends with being in love with someone no matter who they are, what they look like, or how much they had hurt you….


That is what I want. I mean… I don’t need a prince charming. Hell, I don’t even need someone sane… I don’t even need someone with a full identity. I just want that happiness in my life. Each and every time I feel that I am significantly closer to finding that happiness. Somehow it just withers away. Now I am to the point in my life where I must physically STOP myself from loving people… They all leave, they all lie, they all don’t mature, or they all have some new found hatred for single moms.

Oh boy let me tell you… If I had a dollar for how many times I have been told that being a mom is why there is no intention in dating, well I wouldn’t need child support. I do not want to date anyone to have them raise my children. Once I can get their dads to do that 100% then maybe someone could be added to that mix…. However, I know that I am wonderful. I have treated every relationship with respect, I worked hard for the other person, I loved with no fear of getting hurt, and I always put my own needs last. Now… people say they want someone who does all those things… yet they don’t act when something great is SLAPPING THEM in the face.

People fear rejection far too much. Yeah, not everyone likes you, not everyone wants to date you, and hell most don’t even want to be friends with you. There will always be a time when someone will tell you no. Rejection is natural, and it is a choice and honor that all people have the rights to. Next time you get rejected, shake the person’s hand and thank them for giving you one more thorn in your already broken heart bush. Make them feel like they just missed out on some Edgar Allen Poe bullshit. Make THEM sweat it. Leave; get some ice cream; cry it out; and move forward the next day stronger than you were yesterday.

The rejection that actually does cause a significant amount of pain, is time lapsed rejection. Rejection for no reason. Like when someone is seemingly your close friend, things would be awesome, they won’t date because of kids… but they go for Jill with 2 kids, and it’s supposed to make sense. No that makes shit awkward. Just be real with the person and tell them they are fat or something, and you just aren’t that into them. Or you have the ones who, with no rhyme or reason, you know that if things continued, they would be so awesome and seemingly perfect… Like the “what ifs” become intoxicating and you almost feel like it is a game you are bound to lose. You both click on every level seemingly perfect and a few months pass and no one has killed each other yet. Like, that rejection has been the hardest one to hit home. I feel like a little girl just flailing my arms around begging for a chance. But again like I said, I am going to put my big girl pants on, eat a tub of ice cream, cry about it, and figure out some way to make myself stronger for the next person.

Just be like Wade Wilson people. Live your life free spirited, make jokes about the bad shit. Smile with the people you love. Kick any diseases ASS, that may stand in your way. Pick up the broken pieces of your heart and carry on! Life is too short for all the nonsense that we live day to day. I know I suffer with my own depression, but I aim to make that my first goal to stop.

Someone will appreciate the all in me. There IS someone out there who will be my white Pony.

Stand Tall

Grasping air to pull myself, from the world so filled with darkness.

How have I allowed the corruption around me, drag me down like this?


My nails penetrate deep within the surfaces around me.

Trying to crawl from the all the pain that I have let embalm me.


Everyone can physically see the battle, that is leading to my downfall.

I wear my heart upon my sleeve, and no one seems to care at all.


I will give you every fiber, that makes me live and breathe.

You will take and use it against me, my inner core you thieve.


I crawl above the surface, nails now broken down and cracked.

Everything that you think of me, is the reason for strength I lacked.


I will pull myself upon my knees, hold my nubs of fingers in the air.

Even if I lack the power, to pretend that you’re not there.


For I hold a sense of selfless pride, when faced with my own defeat.

Even if I lack the courage to stand upon my own two feet.


Buried deep within this shattered being, a broken soul is kneeling.

Each and every single day, I am just one step closer to healing.

Wednesday Thoughts

I have come to terms with my single status, and have recently been trying to meet new people. What is the story line about that tid bit of information, is that each male that I have talked to for more than 24 hours thinks it is automatically a sexual thing. It kind of grosses me out. If dating is supposed to be polygamous almost as to where you go on several and with different people to explore those damn fish people tell you about… Why would sex be involved in dating. What ever happened to hardly a kiss on the first date? Since when is it just OK to go out to eat with someone and take your pants off right after? Does that not hurt? I mean… I feel like by the time you have found “the one” it will be looser than a bucket of fishing worms.  You need to understand when you come into a relationship with a mother she is already worn out, already tired, already past her prime. Most of the time she literally will brush her teeth in the car on the way to you, and she most likely smells like too much perfume due to the spit up that she couldn’t avoid while handing off the kids. They are the realist you are going to get gentleman.

When I tell people I am dating, I automatically have exes whose feelings are hurt. Best friends who want to know all the details. Lectures on how focusing on myself is supposed to be the number one priority. Getting coffee or some dinner, is NOT marriage worthy. In reality I need some adult, friendly conversation with a non couple, because we all know that the “single mom” is the one that is alone out of everyone in the group.

I literally eat, sleep, and breathe my kids. So when someone asks me on a date… not only do my eyes shine with thoughts of being kid free, but I work full time so dinner is extremely nice. Being able to hold a conversation with out yelling or reminding the person that they need to use the restroom, is also a plus. Momma’s need a small amount of sanity for themselves to function. I have had people “begging” for more chances, or trying to hit me up all day, I mean some crazy stuff. Just live your life a little! We could be besties! And for god sakes, make sure you pick up the tab boys… Even if the night sucked. It is proper. BE PROPER!

I have recently had a lot of issues with nanny’s. One thing that my second nanny stated was that it was extremely unhealthy for me to have men spend the night and leave in the morning before my kids wake up…. First, I am again classy. Anyone who is asleep in my bed with genitalia opposing of mine are going to be my best friends. Otherwise I AM A MOM and I will kick you out at bedtime. Which is totally healthy because I may have kids but I am not dead. Husbands and wives have sex when their children sleep. Single mom’s can too.

Also! What the hell is it with this whole single mother fantasy?? You like them because they are mature and will take care of you… When in reality you need to take the whole package of her and her kids. I mean…. It is pretty much common sense if you ask me. This also includes “baby daddy” drama, their tight time schedules, kids crying to go home and ending the night before it actually hits nightfall. Children with allergies such as my own getting sick on a dime and them leaving you high and dry in the middle of a restaurant. Lets face it guys… You are not her first priority. I don’t want to date anyone that can’t just keep it cool in front of my kids and be a bro before my ho. I mean, my kids are awesome. If you are half that awesome than you may get somewhere.

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PAY FOR A SINGLE MOTHER’S CHILDREN! Again, you will not have to pay for a single mother’s children. If a woman has kids and is a single mom and has no income, or is struggling really badly, they probably want nothing to do with you. I know for me, I have pride. At the end of the day I want to sit back and think on the money I made, what I can do to better myself, and how on earth I can get the list of crap I have to do done before bed. All of which I can do 100% by myself. Want to help me? Pick up after YOU. If I ever were to relationship again I would want a man and not a child. I have 2 children thank you, and I do not have anymore hands to ass ratio. You’re on your own big guy!

I guess what really got me going on this was someone I met recently. They asked me to dinner, told me it took me too long to get there after work, went to dinner without me and then proceeded to drink so heavily in my home that me having kids was for attention, my kids are a huge turnoff, and one more thing I can’t recall. Needless to say, there will never be a date number 2. There will never be a friendship. Each and every person has someone that talks enough shit about them… Just do you. Seriously YOU DO YOU BOO! I will do me, and one day, maybe I will find someone who is the person that I can see growing old with. Truthful, funny, considerate, independent, and a good role model in my kids life. I know its a scary title. But it’s so worth it.