Wednesday, January 17, 2018

ISO: Doctor/Specialist in TBI effects

I am looking for help. I am in search of information about traumatic brain injuries and the long term effects they have on the people who get them, and their families. I know every injury is different, especially how the person was injured and where in the brain the trauma effects.

The person I am "studying" is pretty specific and I'd be willing to speak about it with a professional in private chat. I will begin with the fact that she was injured at 17 years old, prior to having any children.

I have many reasons I am looking for help with this person... one of them is that the person with the TBI is my 14 year old step-son's mother, and she has done many things over the course of his life that has not only hurt him, but my husband, myself, her parents, her siblings, her friends, etc. But my step son has definitely been hurt the worst, in ways we don't even know yet because he refuses to talk about it. But over the past 2 years and 3 months, since he came to live with us, we have learned quite a few things that happened to him, or that he experienced. And all I can say is... what sane mother would do such things to their own child? And then I remember... her brain is broken, and she is not sane.

I want to be able to understand her better, because this anger I have felt for almost 7 years now, since I've been with my husband, is starting to eat away at my soul, and I need to learn how to forgive this woman. Not for her, but for myself. For my own sanity and heartache. I love my husband, but this has put a strain on our relationship, and there were many times I have wanted to leave because "this isn't what I signed up for." This drama, this industrial sized forklift needed for all of the baggage, this... crazy. I am my own level of crazy at times, but this can get ridiculous at a laughable level. This is the kind of shit you see in movies... movies that win academy awards for best actress in a drama.

But I also refuse to allow this woman to break our relationship. I want to be able to look at her with sympathy, like an injured kitten, and not with resentment and anger, like a crackhead who just stole your purse to score another hit. I cannot spend the next seven years of my life feeling like this. I need to be free of all of these feelings. I need to be me again.

So, please, if someone can point me in the right direction, whether it be a doctor or a book or a class, I would be more grateful than you could possibly imagine.

Saturday, February 18, 2017

"Never look down on anyone, unless you're helping them up." ~ Jesse Jackson

I am a good person.

I am not perfect, believe me, I am far from perfect. But no one is perfect. And I strongly believe that no individual human being is better than any other individual human being. We are all the same, just trying our best in this broken, divided, depressing world, not knowing what the hell we're really doing, but faking it the best we can. Because adulting is hard. 

We try our best. Because:

The only person you should try to be better than is the person you were yesterday. 

However, I find myself feeling... jealous (for lack of a better term) of other women because they are able to have the one thing I cannot: more children.

So many of my friends, ex friends, people I'm friends with online {but not really friends with,} and a few drug addicts I know, are able to have 2, 3, 4 kids, just popping one out after another, no problem. I have moments when I wish I were able to get pregnant that easily, but then apart of me believes that my son is my little miracle. Maybe he is the only child I am supposed to have because he is going to do great things and change the world. 

And even though girls talk incessantly, and never shut up (I used to babysit my niece when she was 2-3, and OMG she never stopped talking!) I've always wanted a little girl. My little Skyelar Violet, with her blonde hair just like her brother, and her hazel/green eyes just like her Daddy. My husband and I tried for 2 years to get pregnant. But I have ovarian cysts, and he was a tank driver for the USMC, which supposedly means there is a 50/50 chance he's sterile. 

And ... I'm not good at many things, but I am a good mother. And I love my son more than my own life. If he needed two kidneys, he could have both of mine. 

What makes me so angry is when someone I know, who isn't a good mother, is able to have kids like it's no big deal. They're all Fertile Myrtle's. 
And when I say "isn't a good mother," I mean ... they are incredibly selfish. These women are not the type of people who put their kids needs before their own; they are self obsessed, and use their kids like accessories. Like a chihuahua in a purse they carry around, except it's a baby, and they fish for compliments on how cute their baby is... because we all know that's the only thing that matters about kids. As long as they're cute... 

And yes, we all believe our kids are cute, and they usually are, but teaching our kids important knowledge {before they start school} is vital to how they will do in school. As early as possible, it's so important to teach them letters and colors and numbers and, if you speak two languages, TEACH THEM BOTH! Speak everything you say to them in both languages. I read to Dylan all the time when he was little, as did his Grandparents, and when he was 3 years old, he came into my room with "Harold and the Purple Crayon" and he started reading it to me. Fluidly.  I couldn't believe how good of a reader he was before he even started Pre-school.

Now that I am going to be 33, and my son is almost 12, I've lost the urge to have another baby. Or maybe I've just lost hope that it could ever happen... I have moments when I want another one, and moments where I'm like, "Nope! No more diapers, no more temper tantrums, no more lack of sleep, no more 3am bottle feedings, no more messes, no more CRYING, ETC."  

But it does hurt how ... sad things happen to good people. To good mothers. And there isn't anything that can be done about it. 

I am not better than you. There are times when a person has more knowledge about a specific subject than you do, for example, I know nothing about cars. But my husband does. So, when I have any type of car trouble, I ask him about it and he checks it out and fixes it, or tells me there's nothing wrong. But that's not being BETTER than a person, that's just HAVING KNOWLEDGE in a specific subject that other people may not. 

I know how to write. But I don't talk very well. I get nervous, and stumble over my words and sometimes stutter, but with writing, you can always go back and edit what you've wrote. 

There is no backspace button on verbal words. 

I am lucky. I was able to have one amazing kid, and I try to be the best mom I can be for him. And for almost 6 years now, I've had a step-son, who's had a difficult beginning, and needs a stable female role model in his life. He's lived with us for 16 months now. Things are getting better, but he is starting go to through puberty, so the next few years are going to be SO MUCH FUN! Gotta love that teenage attitude... 

But I am grateful for everything in my life. I am so lucky to have such an amazing husband and great kids. 

I wish I could help others. I wish there were a way for me to reach out to someone who needs help, without being mocked. How do you help a person who doesn't understand the concept of compassion? How do you tell them you want to help them, you want to lift them up? I genuinely want to support this person and make them see just now capable they are despite of their flaws, their problems, their history. 

But... I don't think she would ever let me help her. And I worry if she did, it wouldn't mean a thing to her. 

I am a good person. But I am not better than anyone. 

I just want to be better than I was yesterday. 

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

"Oy with the poodles already... " ~ Lorelai Gilmore

When I was 17, a senior in high school, I started watching a TV show called “Gilmore girls.”  You might be familiar with it. It's become pretty popular thanks to Netflix and the revival that came out on November 25, 2016. I remember the day I started watching it. I remember the very first episode I ever watched.

It was October 9, 2001. I had just turned 17 eleven days prior, and I was determined to do good in school that year. But that's how every school year started for me--a fresh start, not failing, or barley passing, anything, and I had the chance to start off with good grades. So, one Tuesday morning, a friend of mine asked me if she could come over that night to watch "Dawson's Creek" on my TV since she lived with her Dad, and he only had satellite TV, and for some reason, they didn't get the WB (which is now the CW). Or maybe it was "One Tree Hill", I can't remember, but I said, “Sure, that's fine. I have to write a paper for PIG (Participation In Government) tonight, but you can hang out in my room and watch it.” 

So, around 7:45 that night, she showed up at my door, and I showed her to my room so she could watch her show, and I went back into my moms room, because that's where the computer was so I could type and print my paper.

Not long after, my friend peered into my moms bedroom and said, “I was wrong. Tonight was "Gilmore girls", not Dawson's Creek (or One Tree Hill).”

I said, “Oh, okay. Well, you can still watch it.”

And she was like, “No, I'm going to get going. I'll see you tomorrow.”

I said, “Okay. Later.”

She'd left the TV in my bedroom on, so once I finished my paper and printed it out, I went back into my bedroom, stuffed my paper into a folder and into my backpack, and plopped down on my bed, super proud of myself that I actually did my homework. 

Because I seriously never did homework. Like, ever.

The scene on my screen was of a woman with dark hair and blue eyes drinking a martini, with some guy with dark hair, at a restaurant having dinner, and the woman said something about the man being “eye candy,” and I thought, 'hey that's kinda funny.' So, I kept on watching.

At first, I thought the woman, whom I learned to be named Lorelai, was kind of a bitch. Granted, this was my opinion with no other background history in my head except for her complaining about her parents and how she was jealous of the guy's (who I learned to be Max) parents, and how much they cared about the fact that they were getting married.

The episode was almost over, there were maybe fifteen minutes left, but I learned quickly that her mother was Emily, and she could never keep a maid in the house in the 32 years Lorelai had been alive, and I found out that Lorelai had had a baby when she was sixteen. 

For some reason, maybe being a 17 year old myself, the idea of watching a TV show about a mother who had a child around my age was super appealing. Not because I wanted to have a baby that young, but I did have a super strong desire to have a baby in general. I always wanted to be a mother. Not at 17, but eventually. 
So, I continued watching “Gilmore girls,” and I remember thinking, this show isn't like any other show I've ever seen. The dialogue was super quick, and witty, and just fucking brilliant, and Lorelai and Rory (whose name I hated at first, and to this day, I cannot figure out how “Rory” is a nickname for “Lorelai”...) until I realized her name was actually Lorelai. I was torn on that—being a name snob myself, I liked that Lorelai named Rory after herself, because men do it all the time and I could see the feminist side to it, but also kind of disappointed that she had no originality and didn't name her something super awesome like Skye or Storm or Khaleesi.
I started watching "Gilmore girls" right at the beginning of season two. I had never seen season one until the DVD's were released on box-set a few years later, when I actually was pregnant with my son. It's been a staple in my life, something I watch when I'm sick or sad to help me feel better, something that taught me how to be, and how not to be, a mother, and something that my son and I have come to bond over, now that he is almost 12. 
These two fictional woman who drink massive amounts of coffee and talk faster than Donald Trump on cocaine, have played a major role in my life, in who has shaped me into the person I am today—the mother I am today. My relationship with my mother is similar to Lorelai's relationship with Emily, and my relationship with my son is a lot like Lorelai and Rory. I hope one day when he's older, we can be friends. I like him. He's a great, cool, smart, funny, sweet boy, who I hope one day will turn out to be a great, cool, smart, funny sweet man. People tell me I am a good mother. My mother tells me I am a way better mother than she ever was, and I love my mother, I really do, but she's right. My mother taught me how not to be a mother. And Lorelai Gilmore taught me how to be a mother. 
I was only 19 when I got pregnant. I was in college. I was young, not as young as Lorelai, but still pretty young. I was 20 when Dylan was born. 
I remember his father and I discussing baby names when I was pregnant, before we knew it was a boy. At the time, I wanted Skyelar Mackenzie for a girl, and Blake Alexander if it were a boy. My ex hated both names. He hated 'Blake' because he knew a Blake when he was a kid who gave him bad associations, and he hated 'Skyelar' because he thought it sounded too much like “snake”, which was weird and completely untrue, but whatever. So, he suggested, “Why not Lorelai?” And I did consider it for a while... even though my whole family was like, “NO! Skyelar is a gorgeous name for a girl, and Lorelai is stupid!” 

While I didn't think 'Lorelai' was a stupid name, I was still madly in love with the name 'Skyelar.' But, we found out it was a boy (which was my gut instinct the whole time, but I couldn't admit it in case I was wrong... because that would make me a bad mother, duh) and we eventually, after days of debating, agreed on “Dylan.” {The second time I suggested it. He said 'no' the first time.} 

I always thought 'Dylan' was the cool kid name, like Dylan McKay from the original “90210” played by Luke Perry. I used to sneak watching it sometimes, even though I was only 10 years old, but Dylan from 90210 was SO COOL. So, whenever I thought of a person named "Dylan", I automatically believe them to be "cool". 

I told Dylan this story, and I said, “If you were a girl, there's a good chance your name would have been Lorelai.”

And he said, “Cool.”

In 2007, when "Gilmore girls" ended, it was like my life came to an abrupt halt, because we didn't get the right ending. While finishing up Season 6, Amy Sherman-Palladino and her husband, Dan Palladino, the creators and head writers of the show, went to the Network and said they wanted two more seasons of "Gilmore girls", because they were sick of living on a one-season-at-a-time contract, and if the Network didn't agree, Amy and Dan would leave the show. The problem was, this was at the time when the WB and UPN were merging into one network; the CW. So, for whatever reason this new network had, they told Amy and Dan, "No. You have one more season." 

So, ASP and DP left the show. And season seven was a failed attempt at making a show seem like the show it was before without success. The writers tried, they really did, but NO ONE can write like Amy Sherman-Palladino. No One. Every episode of season seven, we all watched with a cringe and a universal feeling of, "It's just not the same." 

It was like in season one, when Rachel came to Stars Hollow for Luke and she decided to stay, and Luke didn't believe her at first, but Lorelai talked to him and he came around, and at the end of the episode, Rachel poured Lorelai and Rory a cup of coffee, and Rory was like, "Huh... does it taste different to you?" And Lorelai was like, "Yeah. It does." 

Season seven tastes like a really bad cup of coffee. And WE LOVE COFFEE! 

So, I began a vicious cycle. I'd watch my DVD's of "Gilmore girls" (I own all 7 seasons) all the time, on repeat, and when season 6 ended (I've only watched season 7 3 times... because I just can't do it.) I'd start over again with season one, and everything was good in the world again. And I did this for 9 years. Not non stop, there were times, I'd go weeks, even months, without watching it, but whenever there was nothing good on TV, or if we didn't currently have TV to watch because we were too broke to pay for cable, I came back to watching my "Gilmore girls" DVD. 

And then it came on Netflix. Even though I owned all of them, I was so excited for them to be on Netflix because that meant I didn't have to change the disc every 4 episodes! And I could watch it on my laptop and screen shot certain quotes (like above) with the captions on. It made my life easier. I could watch it anywhere, anytime, even on my iPhone! 

And because of Netflix, and all the beautiful millennials who started to watch the show for the first time, we got what we'd been dreaming of for 9 fucking years. We got a revival. 

When the news first leaked online, I didn't believe it at first because the internet has punked me before about a Gilmore revival. So, I waited until other people confirmed it, like ET or Netflix or Lauren Graham herself... and lo and behold, it wasn't a hoax. It was real.

"Gilmore girls" was coming back. And I fucking cried. I jumped up and down and squealed like a fifteen year old at a One Direction concert. I had never been more excited for anything in my entire life--and I had FRONT ROW tickets to John Mayer (for my 19th birthday) AND Backstreet Boys (my mother actually won them on the radio right before my 21st birthday). 

The woman who taught me how to be a mother was returning to, possibly, the greatest fictional small town ever created, Stars Hollow, and with it was the genius mastermind behind it all--Amy Sherman-Palladino. After all these years, we were finally getting the ending we were promised. We were finally getting the "last 4 words" Amy had planned from the very beginning. We were finally getting the CLOSURE we never got with season 7!  

The reason I am writing this ridiculously long blog post is because I've recently come to a big realization about why I couldn't ever stop watching the show. I'd watch it on repeat for years and never got sick of it, but I also never got any closure. But now that the revival has happened, and I've watched it a good 4 times, I have closure. And I haven't watched the show since. 

Don't get me wrong, I still love "Gilmore girls" and I'll always come around to watching it again. It's had such a positive impact on my life, and never fails to cheer me up when I'm sad or sick or having a bad day. But the almost obsessive need to watch it is gone. I'm finally able to move on! It's a weird feeling, and maybe I'm just completely insane for everything in this post, but that's who I am. I'm a Gilmore junkie, and I finally got the dose I've been jonesing for for 9 years.  So, thank you millennials and Netflix for making this dream of mine come true. I honestly never thought it would happen. How many TV shows get a second chance? All we ever hoped for was one movie, and we ended up with four. Even if the show doesn't come back for more in a few years (which I've heard talks of it being a possibility) I will still be content with what we got. It's a lot more than most, and I am forever grateful to finally know the last four words that dangled over my head for 16 years. 

Thursday, January 19, 2017


Shit that bothers the fuck out of me: December 30, 2016 My kid comes home from his Dad's and was opening presents. My kid opens his TV. Step-Kid: "Uhh is that TV bigger than mine?" ("Mine" is actually MY TV that MY mom gave ME for Christmas in 2014, but when we moved, I was NICE enough to give it to BOTH KIDS, but in reality, it ended up being "Step-Kids" because the spoiled little shit head can't share.) Husband: "No, it's the same size." I open up the box, and Husband helps me slide the TV out. Husband and I look at each other. It's actually a little smaller... We thought the TV was a 24 inch so that's what we got for My Kid; turns out other TV is a 27 inch. Oh, well. Step-Kid: (laughs) "It's looks smaller than mine." *MY KID: "Doesn't matter. At least I have a TV now."* RIGHT THERE is the difference between spoiled and GRATITUDE.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

I am Norma Bates

Norma: Honey, go inside the house. Hide. Hide.
I-I just... I was mad. Okay, baby?
{Scene cuts to upstairs bedroom}
(SIGHS) Okay. Sam.
(Norma's hand falls onto the floor, unknowingly, Norman is hiding under their bed. He reaches out to her, and she squeezes his little 7 year old hand as she's being raped.)

Norman [as Norma] to Doctor Edwards: I don't want him to know these things. It will kill both of us. Please, Doctor, if you have a heart, don't make him remember these things.


Alex: What the hell? What the hell? What was that? What?

Norma: When I was, um, a teenager... It was a long time ago... um... I slept with my brother. I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry to have to tell you this. Oh, it's horrible. I'm sorry. He's Dylan's father.

Alex: The guy that I had dinner with?

Norma: Caleb, yeah.

Alex: Norma, you... you were young. It... it was a mistake.

Norma: Mistake? It was not a mistake. It was a way of life. It happened for years. I loved him. Our home life was torture, and we were all we had. I finally tried to stop it, and, um, he got really upset and he raped me. You know how horrible it is to be raped by someone you love? (SNIFFLES) And I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. But I don't hate him enough to hurt him. And it's a mess because I don't know if part of why I hate Caleb so much is because I hate myself. (SNIFFLES) All in a day's work. (DRAMATIC MUSIC) So now you know who you're married to. And I should have told you before, but I've never loved anyone enough to feel obligated to be honest with them. And... And I just... It... it sucks. It sucks because I can't hide. And I want to, but I can't.

Monday, February 15, 2016

Biggest Pet Peeves Post

Biggest pet peeve - Tardiness. If you tell me you'll be here at 1pm, I expect you to be here at that time, I'll accept a 10-15 minute window, I'd even be okay if you were early, but if you are going to be late, and it's due to circumstances out of your control, at least call or TEXT me, so I can prepare. Waiting for anything, appointments, people, anything, gives me serious anxiety! 2nd biggest Pet Peeve -- When I tell someone "OMG I LOVE *insert whatever food or drink here*!" And they've never had it, so they try it and they say, "Oh, that IS good! I LOVE this!" And continue to eat/drink it. Then a month, or 2 months, or however long later, they tell me, "You know when you made that *insert food here*, I'm so sorry, but I have to admit, I hated it! OMG I'm so sorry, but it was BAD." ..... PLEASE *DO NOT* EVER DO THIS TO ME, EVER. Because I REMEMBER THIS SHIT. So, if I know you're coming over for dinner, or whatever, I'll remember the time you said you LOVED it, so I'll make it again, thinking you LOVED it, and then I make it, and find out you hated it, and I feel like A GIANT FUCKING TURD, and an IDIOT. Seriously, you don't have to like everything I like or make, so don't freaking LIE to me about it, to "spare my feelings", because THAT makes me feel EVEN WORSE! THANKS. #AnxietyProblems

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Diagnosis: Bipolar Disorder

At 31 years old, I have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.

I've been given a new medication to help control my mood swings, and manic episodes. 

I am moving up to 300 mg in a couple of days, and I am honestly feeling more excited about it than I've ever been about taking pills before. 
Because it's fucking working. 
I cannot remember the last time I got through a day without feeling or thinking or believing that I should be dead, or want to die, or think everyone around secretly wishes I were dead. It's been most relieving to finally feel "normal", or at least some semblance of what normal is. 

I never realized my mood swings or "mania" was abnormal. I thought it was just how everyone was, including parents and family members. 

Now that I am aware that I have this illness, I might be able to stop it before it takes over. And I am praying to the universe that this medicine really does help me, too. I feel it helping so far, I just hope as I continue to go up in dosages, it becomes even more powerful over the broken synapses in my mind. 

So, for now, lets hope for the best, and not expect the worst...