Saturday, February 28, 2015

Conversations with myself about my crazy ass dreams.

What if when you die, you don't just die; you wake up in a different life.
And I don't mean heaven, or "God", or anything like that... just... another life; an alternate reality, per se, in another universe, where you've been "asleep" and "dreaming" this life, and when this life is over, you wake up and live another life, with all your memories from this life, and everything is different, but also the same, at the same time?


I woke up with a jolt.

Looking around the room, I saw my family sitting and standing in every corner of the small room; my mother next to me on my left; my father in the far corner by the window; my husband sat next to me on my right; my son stood next to my father with his head buried in my father's side, as if he were afraid to look at me. My brother stood with his arms folded across his chest near the privacy curtain; my aunts and uncles stood next to him, but my one aunt, who was handicapped, sat in a chair at the foot of my bed.

But I remembered.

"Did I die?" I asked in a raspy voice. My throat was dry. It was the first thing out of my mouth after... I honestly didn't know; hours, days, weeks, of being unconscious?

Everyone looked at each other. No one knew how to answer me, but I knew they knew.

I knew I died, but they didn't understand how I knew.

My husband was the first to speak, "Your heart stopped... and you were dead for almost five minutes before the doctors were able to resuscitate you."

My mother took my hand, "How did you know?" She asked. Her face was filled with mixed emotions, and her eyes held back tears. It was a combination of confusion, shock, and fear.

I tried to scooch myself to sit up, the there were so many wires and cords and tubes connected to me, I couldn't.

My husband picked up the remote that controlled the bed, and pushed the button so the top of the bed rose. "Thanks," I said.

I looked at my family, all wide eyed and perplexed, and tried to explain.

"At first, I thought it was a dream. I woke up in a giant field of grass, and wildflowers and trees. It was warm, and sunny, and there were so many other people there. I sat there looking around for what seemed like hours, just watching these people running, and talking, and looking at me out of the corner of their eye, but never saying anything, and I didn't understand. I wanted to say something, I could feel the words in my chest, but nothing would come out. And as I looked around me, I realized where ever I was, wasn't like anywhere I've ever been or seen before. I looked up at the sky, and I saw the sun, and two moons. That's when I started to wonder if I was dead. And then I saw her."

"Who?" My mom asked. "Who did you see?"


Lynn had been a friend of our family since I was ten years old. I was best friends with her oldest daughter for years, and my son and her grandson were born only a week apart. But then, when my son was three, Lynn committed suicide. It was a very violent death, and even though, by then, our families had grown apart, I had always considered Lynn and her kids to be like my second family. She was the first grown up I told I was pregnant when I was only 19. She was in the delivery room when my son was born.

And ever since she died, every once in a while, I could hear her voice in my head, answering my internal questions, giving me advice, and while it could have easily been my subconscious speaking in her voice, I always felt it really was her, somehow, guiding me in the right direction.

"Lynn?" My brother asked, confused.

"Bee and Neen's Mom? ... Jess' Mom!"

"Oh," he said with realization.

"I know this is going to sound so weird... but, as I was sitting in the field, watching all of these people, she appeared in front of me. She looked just as beautiful as ever, with her long black hair that hung down to her ass. And her deep brown eyes and Italian tanned skin." My mother smiled. She remembered. I'm pretty sure her and I were the only ones in the room who remembered Lynn, as I had met my husband years after Lynn died.

"She squatted in front of me and asked, 'What are you doing here?' And I looked her because I didn't even know where I was! And she said, 'You aren't supposed to be here yet.' Then she smiled and she placed two fingers on my forehead, and then... I woke up. Here. Now. In the hospital, apparently."

My mother squeezed my hand and said, "You died... and went to heaven?" As if that was the proudest thing I had ever achieved.

When she used the word 'heaven', it didn't feel right. There was no God to judge me, there was no golden gates, or clouds, or flying angels with halos and white wings.

I was in another world.

"No." I said.


"I don't know how else to explain it, Mom... but this... this place, whatever it was, was nothing like how we imagine heaven to be."

"How do you know?"

I thought about her question for a long time, trying hard to remember my experience, but the longer I was awake, the more the memory faded. But something inside me told me this place wasn't heaven. As I watched all of those people in the field, dancing and laughing and talking and... being, I just knew. And so, I answered, "Because no one there was dead."

- End Scene-

Thursday, February 26, 2015

A conversation with my brain about ideas...

I've decided, when spring comes, I'm going to start a new project.

Something completely new for me (minus selfies, the kids/cats, and the normal family pictures); but a photography project, using only my iPhone camera (because it's the only camera I have).

I'm going to take pictures of anything and everything, including random people, animals, flowers, trees, waterfalls, rocks, garbage, walls, the moon, etc. I'm going to try to find different things, interesting things, pictures that make you think and feel and wonder... Those are my favorite kind of photos.

From April (or once it's warm...)  through October (or once it's cold again).

This is going to be around a 6 month project.

Just for fun. Just to try something new. I am FAR from anything remotely close to being a professional photographer, but I do like taking pictures and since 90% of social media involves pictures, I though, why not? I promise to keep the selfies to a minimum. Because this isn't about me, it's about exploring the world and seeing what's really out there, from a new perspective.

I also really need a new project to focus on, because I haven't been doing so well with the writing lately... And maybe this will help spark something, or inspire me to write again. Because I really miss it. I love writing so much, and I get so depressed this time of year, living in Upstate/Western NY, with the cold and snow and ARCTIC FUCKING COLD... it's  so hard to be happy and feel good and to concentrate.

Sometimes, I wish I could go back to 2008/2009, before I started SUNY Brockport, because that's the year I wrote the most, and even though it wasn't very good, I was brave enough to do it. And more than anything, I miss that. I miss being brave and confident and excited about my stories...

Not many people believe in me or my writing, or my abilities. Especially the ones that should to believe in me, and I allowed their ... skepticism, to make me second guess myself and my ability to write.

I allowed the one person who should support me say, "But is it ever going to amount to anything?" Like, I was wasting my time doing what I love...  And I was so devastated, I just gave up. Because how can you believe in yourself when the people who supposedly love you, don't?

I want more than anything to prove him wrong, and everyone else who has ever doubted me wrong... But before I can prove them wrong, I have to start believing in myself again.

I need to get rid of the negativity in my life, and start living my dreams.

Because, seriously, if you don't believe in me, why are you in my life??

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Conversations with men... or A "man", in particular.

I don't know how you can go through life with a certain belief system, some being stereotypes, and others just being fucking ridiculous things to believe for anyone, ever.

It's mind boggling for me when you're supposed to do something, that I CAN'T do for you, and you say, "When am I supposed to have the time for that?" or "I don't have time for that."

And, these things you're supposed to do... are thing people do DAILY. Everyone does them! People who don't work AND people who DO WORK! Just because you have a job, doesn't give you the right to say you don't "have time" to do something IMPORTANT, and something you should have done like 10 years ago, because YOU HAVE TO FUCKING DO IT! You can't NOT do it...

There are very few things I can't do for you. But this is one of those things. I can go with you. I can be there while you do it, but I cannot pretend to be you, I cannot say I am you and sign your name. They will look at me and say, "Sorry, Miss, but you're not A MAN!"

I cannot fight your battles for you. I cannot be you and do everything for you. I've done my best to do other things, I can lie on the phone and tell people I'm your wife so you don't have to make a phone call, but when you have to do things in person for yourself... I don't know what you want from me.

I try to help you, and all you do is yell at me and say, "I don't have time for this shit! I have to work!"

.... seriously? You truly believe your only responsibility in the world is to work? And as long as you do that, you don't have to do anything else, because everything else is my job? Also known as, the woman's job?

Well, fuck you.

Because at least ONE DAY during the week, usually Tuesday's or Wednesday's, you don't have to be at work until 2 or 3PM, so, YES YOU DO HAVE THE FUCKING TIME to go to the DMV, or make a fucking phone call, but you'd rather sit at home and play FF14 on your computer than be a fucking adult and get your own car insurance. But in order to do that, the car HAS TO BE IN YOUR NAME. NOT YOUR MOMMY'S.

I also can't go to a lawyer for you, and get legal advice on how to get custody of your son, because HE'S YOUR SON. And ... if you don't have time to do any of this ^ ^ ^ .,. HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE TIME TO BE A FULL TIME DAD?? Oh, that's right... you won't.

That will become my job as well...

I swear, sometimes, I feel like the only difference between you and my kids father is that you have a job... and while that is a plus, ALL the rest... really isn't.

I know there is no such thing as the perfect man, or woman, or person... and we all know I have my faults, but come on... have a LITTLE autonomy. I can't always be the one who does everything else but work. Because what happens when I go back to work? What will your excuse be then?

Not only will I have to work, but I'll have to come home and be a full time mom and wife, and cook and clean, and go to doctors appointments, and stay home with my kid when he's sick, and take care of ... everything. Except the liter box... I know you always clean the liter box... but everything else... It's almost like I'm alone.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Conversations My Brain Has With Itself

Maya Rudolf is playing Beyonce on the SNL 40 year anniversary special. 3 fucking hours of hilarity and confusion all mixed together. Because I am only 30, and I've only been watching for less than 20... sooooo, some great parts, some, wtf is happening parts.

I had a lot of apple pie moonshine and ginger ale tonight. It's so good. I needed it. I can't remember the last time I felt this good.

I'm gonna need a lot of water before I go to bed...

I went with my fiance on a run yesterday to Plattsburg and all over the upper part of NYS, and I finally started reading "The Body Electric" by Beth Revis (she wrote the Across the Universe trilogy... you should definitely read it!) and I've noticed how similar it is to a book I started writing a few years ago, that is still technically, unnamed,  but about a similar concept: scientifically being able to control ones dream, or sleep state to induce a better quality of life because reality sucks. At least that's the theme of my story, REM (?), and I've only started chapter 8 or 9 of The Body Electric, but so far, it seems like the plot is very similar.

I also need to finish Aubrey Nightingale. Chapter One is ALMOST finished with editing... but I haven't opened it because I've been on a Friends Binge ever since it came on Netflix January 1... I really need to finish it. So I can finally move onto editing Chapter 2.. and finish writing the damn thing. I love it and miss it and think it has so much potential to be such a great story... I hope I can do it justice... I always wonder if I'm good enough, and I know that's a chronic problem when dealing with a person who suffers from anxiety, but still. It never goes away. I want Aubrey to be amazing, because she is amazing. And Azra. The unedited partial first version that's available on amazon, is no where near how amazing this story is.  It doesn't do it justice... I need to fix it, and reupload it, so people can really see just how brilliant these characters are meant to be.

Going to write now. #onlyalittledrunk #kidsinDisneyOnVacation #ImFucking30

Monday, February 2, 2015

A Conversation About The Truth


     I was raped and molested when I was a child. From about seven until twelve. I will not say who because I'm not at the point in my life where I'm ready for that... but I will tell you that it is effecting my life, my relationships, my head, and my self esteem. Very few people know about this. But I think it's time for me to open up more about this because I believe this is one of the underlying problems of my anxiety. This, and that I allow other peoples opinions define me, but only the negative ones, of course.  
     Thanks for that, society.