Minorities.

We’ve been taught from a young age to not be judgmental or prejudice towards minorities like the disabled, people of color, sexual orientation, or religious beliefs. Yet, terrible things happen by people of all abilities, colors, sexual orientation, and views each and every day.

We’re asked to “look the other way” or “give them a chance” when we have bad vibes about a person of color or someone with a disability because if we judge them, we’re immediately perceived as a prejudice asshole.

Things like rape, child abuse, drug charges – they happen everyday when society “looks the other way.” And just to clear up foggy air; I’m not defending the fully-capable white person here and saying that we do no bad. Believe me, white people are just as guilty as anyone else in the “committing crimes” edition of society.

I’m simply saying that when we’ve been taught for so long to not judge someone that we feel uneasy about. We are taught to try to push that deep down in our gut to forget about it because we don’t want someone else to think that we are racially profiling or pointing fingers because we feel uncomfortable.

That’s the sad thing. Horrible things happen to innocent people every day when society looks the other way for the sake of hurt feelings. I’ve witnessed this first hand. A group of extremely innocent people could have been protected years ago if we as a community weren’t taught so sternly to “give the guy a chance.”

I’ve learned that it’s best to go with your gut and if you’re an asshole for doing so because you think a disabled person or any other minority is a fucking creep..than so be it. You could save a life.

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C’est la vie.

I know when people talk about me. Although, I’d like to be one of those strong individuals that say they don’t give a shit what people say, I’m not one of them. I do give a shit. It’s weird. I can’t really explain it. You’ll hear that so and so thinks someone is talking about them but it’s all in their head. They’re just being silly. It’s like some kind of intuitive feeling. Like a disgusting knot that can’t be undone in the pit of my stomach. It’s the feeling you get when something bad is going to happen or when you lie and feel guilty about it. That feeling. That’s the feeling I get when I know. Call me silly if you must but if you don’t have that sense, than I guess you just can’t relate.

I never know what it’s about though. I’m not psychic or anything. It could be about anything. Maybe I was a bitch yesterday or why I’m so quiet today. It could be about my sloppy choice of clothes because I just didn’t give a fuck this morning. Maybe I smell because not giving a fuck in the morning clearly starts with no shower. Maybe I give off a bad vibe. Who knows.

Regardless, it’s frustrating. I’m no saint. I talk shit too. We all do. But when it’s you, it just seems to sting a little worse. Bummer, huh.

Next thought.

There are certain people who I want to say I “deal” with on a daily basis. Sometimes it’s just too much. It’s really a frustrating experience being one of a few people who actually “get it.” Who really understand what has to be done, how it has to be done, and when. And when you’re metaphorically forced to shift your day around a person that just simply is incapable of meeting your intellectual standards, it really fucking blows.

There are so many ill-noted things I could say right now that I just want to scream. I hate having such bitchy and catty thoughts in my head. I honestly consider myself a nice person. I care about the people in my life. I help where and when needed. I do my best when it comes to my job and my home-life. Yet, when people other than me are faced with the same situations and are either incapable of doing them just as good and just as correct or just as timely as me, than I form some kind of anger towards said person. There are times that I just want to grab people by their shoulders and shake them. Yelling at them over and over asking them if they are fucking retarded.

And if you’re going to have an issue with my use of retarded than you can shut this down right now. If you’re from America and you speak English, you should know by now that there are many words with multiples meanings. When I say that I’m a very anal person. You wouldn’t jump to thinking that I enjoy receiving anal would you? It means I’m anal-retentive.

The same goes with the words gay, retarded, and tear. In the case where I first mentioned the “R” word about a paragraph and a half ago, if you chose to set aside your sensitive feelings, you know I was referring to someone who is more than stupid. Someone that is more than dumb. I suppose I could have used such words as senseless or simple-minded but sometimes when you’re about ready to collapse in tears, you should be able to use the words that come to your mind.

I wasn’t, as some of you may be offended by, referring to a mentally handicapped person. Can we continue now?

What it comes down to is enough should be enough. If I had the authority and balls, I would make some changes that involve my day-to-day life. Granted I am making a few personal changes which feel great but there are aspects, as we all have day-to-day, that we are not in control of.

It’s funny really. It’s funny how people can get away with so much. How one person can commit a terrible crime and gets away with it while the victim gets tossed hand over foot through the legal system getting fucked in the ass by the state. It’s hilarious how people can get away with the bare minimum and slide through write-ups. Giggling away and thinking they are doing a good job when any blind person can see that in fact, they are not.

That’s life I guess. As unfair as it’ll always be.

Sulfamethoxazole.

A third stint to Altru in less then a week completed our mellow weekend. I knew everything was going to be okay. After all, he was in good hands. But I couldn’t help having an overwhelming amount of emotions flood through me on more than one occasion. It became real when they poked and prodded. Withdrew vial after vial of blood and hooked him up to the hospital staple – an IV.

Clearly I’m not as strong as I thought I was. It was routine. The doctors have years of experience, don’t they? Hey, they probably do this to everyone complaining of the same symptoms so why did I get the feeling of him dying? Why did I jump to conclusions? Why did I get images of going home alone? I saw myself giving him one last kiss and held on to him tight. I relived the fights and arguments, how pity they were. I imagined going on without moving on. All these stupid irrational fears ran through me so quickly.

Sitting at home now with him sleeping peacefully, better; I know it was silly. I know I internally overracted. Maybe it’s because he’s so solid. He doesn’t ever complain about being sick. He’s as stubborn as they come so when he needs to go to the hospital it’s real. I think back to when my dad had some kind of infection a few years ago or worse, when he was hospitalized for a heart condition when I was little; what did my mom go through? The seriousness of that. The unknown factors and what if thoughts, it had to have been torture.

IMG_5144 They never tell us how to be strong. There’s no handbook to get through life. We just have to trust..trust that He’ll never give us more than we can handle.

Does Heaven Have DQ Ice Cream Cake?

Happy Friday. I had chosen not to write this week because I ran into an occurrence where I got really frustrated with someone. Bitching it out to my sounding board wasn’t working and the only thing that let me free my anger was to write about it; which I did. Writing my anger out is a good release for me especially when I am aware that I am overreacting over something so trivial because the paper doesn’t judge. Or really, the blank page on the screen doesn’t judge. But..I didn’t post it.

enhanced-7872-1395329299-5I didn’t post it because I knew it was hate. I don’t want to advertise hate. And I know that I would probably get some kind of hate in return. Karma, I suppose. On the other hand, I wanted to post it because I saw a picture about writing the truth (see right) and I agree completely with it. But the way the post was constructed was absolutely absurd and I really think that if I re-read it right now; I’d feel like a complete asshole.

At some point, when I’m ready, I plan on digging out my demons and letting people hear what I have to say in the most true and raw sense but this blog, right here..it’s not the place.

Today is one of my guardian angels birthdays. She was one of the happiest and funniest people I had ever known. Thinking back to earlier this week when I had written such an ill-tasted post; I’m so happy that I didn’t publicize it. Although the situation really irked me, I thought about a couple posts I’d written in my old blog about Aron when I found out about her death. I talked about finding the good in people like Aron did and accepting everyone for who they were instead of what they stood for. If you’d like to check either of them out, I’ll post them below.

IMG_5154Aron was a trooper. Literally and figuratively. She was everyone’s role model whether they realized it or not. Her smile, her attitude, everything – it lit up whichever room she walked into. It didn’t matter if you were gay, black, fat, or ugly; she’d make you feel welcome. All that outside superficial bullshit didn’t matter to her. Billy Joel knew what he was talking about when he said “only the good die young.” It’s true, it really really is. I could only hope that I could find the good in people like she did. That I didn’t judge so easily and that I wouldn’t have lingering anger towards others. At the very least, Aron’s death has thought us all to hug those we love a little tighter, keep in contact even when time passes, and open our hearts to everyone no matter what.

Happy birthday, Aron. We miss you.

Click below to read more about Aron and the effect she had on the lives of the people that were fortunate enough to know and love her:

We Shouldn’t Have To Say Goodbye Yet.
I Want To Be A Better Person.

Strength Is Earned.

It’s rare when some single person somewhere on this planet can actually relate to that something going on in your life. As each day in my life goes by, I’m finding that I realize that more and more. It’s depressing really. Even if two people or an entire family are going through the same “something” each individual can’t possibly feel the same as the one next to them.

There are many times that I’ve wanted to, and sometimes I do call for a pity party. I just want someone to understand what I’m going through or expect someone to empathize with me when even I, myself have admitted to have a lack of said empathy. I find comfort in having someone to talk to but once I reflect on a conversation had or advice given, I often find myself in stuck in their shoes that don’t fit me. Why did they say what they said? Does it make sense? Sure, it might but why? They have no idea what is actually happening. What’s going on. What the situation actually is. How I really feel. They aren’t me, how could they?

For the sake of the privacy of those around me, I won’t go into personal details but I myself have been going through something for some time now. In a twisted, clouded way one might say that I signed up for it. I could have walked away from an inevitable hurdle too high for an Olympian to jump over but something deep inside my soul urged me to run toward it not away from it. The consequence in doing so has lead me down a path of putting off certain aspects of my life.

I’ve made a promise to myself though, specifically in the year that we are in. At the beginning of the New Year, I vowed to live my life and pursue even the smallest of dreams. Two very simple things that I’ve willingly put on the back burner for nearly two years. A lot of people don’t understand and anyone that I’ve met within these two years hasn’t had the opportunity to even understand because I don’t talk about it. Not that anyone might actually care but for arguments sake, lets just assume they do.

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I found out very early down this path that I chose that it does no good to release your emotions at the drop of a dime. It leads to “friends” and family’s free reign to run their mouths on a topic that they just don’t understand. Not only do we all not have the exact experiences as each other but we, as a human race, are quick to judge before the end of a sentence is even completed.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m going to try to give people more of a chance. I’m going to try to understand and try to truly empathize. I’m going to try to provide people with the strength that I have unknowingly built up. And even though I have no idea how each of you actually feel at any given moment in your life, I will be there. I will be there to listen and to build you up. I will be there to push, to tell it to you straight, and to be on your side. I will tell you that there actually is a light at the end of the tunnel even if that tunnel is fucking long.

The Truth Comes Out.

Obviously not every, but most of the photos in this blog are ones that I’ve taken. However, most of them haven’t yet been edited as I have postponed doing so for years. When choosing pictures to attach in each post; I quickly realized that I haven’t taken many pictures over the last 18 or so months. I think it’s a mix between being down right lazy and having no confidence to be a motivated person.

DSCN0856

I know what you’re thinking..what does motivation and taking a couple of pictures have to do with anything? I could go in circles about this for days but the gist of it is as follows: I’ve always been out of control when it comes to my physical appearance. I take that back; I’ve always cared about what I look like and have tried my best to look my best when going out but to be quite honest, over the last..two years probably; I haven’t put much work into myself and that is so far from wrong it’s ridiculous.

I don’t love myself. I’ve lost all self respect for myself. I don’t “dress up” anymore and when I do, I know that I don’t do it to the standard that I have set myself to in the past. I’ve never been high maintenance or gone to extremes when it comes to my appearance but I did used to give a shit. I used to get dolled up whenever I saw Channing and even before him; I’d always look my best. I’d buy myself new clothes almost every paycheck. I’d splurge on a pair of new shoes or buy gobs of lotion at Bath and Body. But I don’t do stuff like that anymore. I don’t straighten my hair, I never put eye makeup on anymore. I don’t even remember the last time that I actually went shopping for new clothes or shoes or hair products other than when I absolutely had to. It’s because I’ve “let myself go.” It almost makes me cringe to have to admit that at age 24 but it probably needed to be said. I’m not intentionally avoiding the obvious but if you have seen me recently you can see that I’ve gained a substantial amount of weight in a short time. I’m sure it has to do with the stress that I’ve put myself in front of over the last few years and becoming comfortable in my relationship but regardless it is irresponsible and definitely ludicrous.

I’ve always been overweight it’s not something new. Everyone that has eyes can see it. But where I am now is absolutely absurd and I take full blame for it. When I was younger; I’d be able to at least maintain where I was at for long periods of time. I was the same pants size in high school from 10th grade through college but after that it was just a downward (slow) spiral. However, since mid-2012 it’s gotten out of control and quite frankly, I need help.

This has clearly veered off of the subject that I started with but in short my weight and the stress that initiated the gain is why I have sheltered myself. I have ditched my brother in going to concerts because I didn’t want to be that fat sweaty freak in the mosh pit. I’ve bailed on catching up with old friends because I’m not only embarrassed of myself but I’m embarrassed for them to have to be seen in public with me. I don’t go to certain restaurants because they only have booths. I’ve skipped family reunions and weddings because I didn’t want to be the hippopotamus cousin. I even stay quiet and don’t interact with my boyfriends family, niece, and nephew as much as I’d like to because I’m afraid that I’ll look like a fool or get hot and sweaty in front of them.

I don’t go swimming. I don’t go to amusement parks. I don’t hang out with friends. I don’t make new friends. I don’t go on adventures or to concerts. I don’t do spur of the moment. I don’t dance like no one is watching. I don’t do anything and it’s not because I don’t want to; it’s because I’m afraid of what people will think which really is a bunch of bullshit. It shouldn’t matter what people think but it does.

I’ve limited the enjoyment in my life because I’m addicted to food and can’t hold a spirt of motivation or determination for more than 7 minutes. I’ve never actually admitted this to anyone in anyway except to my mom because sadly, we share the same issue. I’m hoping that in being honest with myself and to the public that this will help me to overcome hurdles that I practically refuse to jump over. One day I’ll get the balls to post a before picture, but today is not the day.

I have every tool that I need to become a happy and healthy individual but all I need is a push, a real get the fuck going push. Will you push me?