There is evidence

What happens at our house, stays at our house...or not really. It's not Vegas after all. As I said in yesterday's post, the party was indeed a success. I have friends from all over: co-workers, ex-co-workers, my college friend and friends we met through her husband, WW friends, my running partner and my first running partner and of course Trainer's friends who are now my friends. Lot's of people. I'm adding to my collection of friends.

The party start time was 7pm, of course the first person arrived at 7:30 or something like that, and then they all came at once. It was overwhelming to say the least. Legs and company arrived first. We started chatting and then more people showed up, then more, then more...and suddenly I had a full house. The pups were on their leashes so they wouldn't jump up on people. Normally I don't care, it IS their house, but since there were going to be children there for a bit we decided it was best to have them in close proximity to us. I had Fifi and Trainer had Fido. The food was excellent, our chef DD, had exceeded all my expectations of what a caterer does. The plates were never empty and it was delish.

Now, there was about an hour in which I had nothing to do as we waited for the guests to arrive. I had eaten lunch at noon and I didn't want to eat after that because there was to be food there. Well...it wasn't quite done when Trainer asked me if I wanted a glass of wine. I said yes, as it WAS my birthday party, why not start a little early?? So when people started coming over I was a tiny bit buzzed. I finally ate something but continued to drink. In fact, I don't believe that my wine glass was empty all night long. That being said, I don't remember EVERYTHING that happened. I did hear that drunk RockinAustin is funny. Great, what did I do. Unfortunately the camera didn't come out until I was on my second bottle (yes, bottle - not glass) of wine.

There was a picture of me in the kitchen (this is where I perched after a while, let the people come to me attitude) with my glass of wine, still looking respectable. My tan was looking FAB-U-LOUS by the way. Very Brazilian. ;) Then the pictures start to get fuzzy...literally. You could really tell which ones were the ones that I took, not just fuzzy, but so blurry that you can only tell who people are by the color of their clothes! Then the "interesting" pictures started coming. There was me getting huggy with everyone "I love you man!", there was me sticking my tongue out, there was me rubbing the pregnant bellies, then rubbing the not pregnant (but looked pregnant) males bellies, there was me laying on the counter with all my wine bottles, and there was me and my friends husband doing weird things to his wife, who is pregnant, and it was just...wrong. Who the fu*k took that picture? Poor unborn child... Then towards the very end come the boob/cleavage shots. Yep, you know the ones...and you can probably guess who was behind the lens.

Lucky for me...and certain unborn children...digital cameras were invented and I could delete these pictures before they were ever viewed by anyone other than me...

Yesterday I had a killer hangover that didn't go away, I still feel a little bit stupid today. Ahhh, the joys of being almost 35...wrinkles (the evidence of living a good life, smiling a lot), the ability to drink 2+ bottles of wine (and not getting sick, although it may have helped), and lastly the 2 day hangovers (these better not get longer as I age).

It's fabulous.

The birthday party

Oh my effing god...my head hurts, my stomach feels like I've been on a rocking boat non-stop since I woke up and my bones actually ache. You know what that means right? It was a really good party. :) Writing this is actually challenging at the moment because I have to look at this white screen...it's bright. Apparently we didn't go to bed until about 3am, I woke up this morning at 7am...in the upstairs bedroom...and I have no idea why. I think that I was turning the lights off upstairs and the bed looked good. Hmmm...yeah, maybe that's what happened. Although, my clothes were on my bedroom floor that was downstairs.

That's it for now, I'll write more later...when I have time at work...HAHAHAHA!

I just want to get laid...

I'm going to start off by saying that this is a TMI post, you can take that as "Too much information" OR "This must (be) interesting."

Is that TOO much to ask?? For goddess sakes people!!! I get waxed for two reasons: 1. It's nice in the heat and humidity and 2. It's GREAT for sex. I mean, come on...that plays into 85% of the male species fantasies. And I know for sure that Trainer is in that 85%! I endure the pain, albeit a short lived pain, to look sexy, hot, feel good...and NOTHING, NADA, NOT EVEN A GLANCE. Last night I went to bed frustrated and today I get spray tanned at noon so no sex today/tonight either (you can't get sweaty and the kind of sex that I want will definitely get sweaty).

For goddess sake (again)...so, I had to take care of it myself. Praise be the person that invented the vibrator. :)

Now, if that doesn't get your Friday started off right...nothing will.

The 'All About ME' week begins...

I suppose it started when I wrote my blog about August huh? Here is a run down of my week, I'm preparing for my big party on Saturday!!

Monday - Nothing because Monday's suck.

Tuesday - Massage by Brassy and it was fabulous.

Wednesday - Facial by Smiley's sister and again, fabulous.

Thursday - Wax on...riiiiippppp....wax off. Yeah, this may not FEEL fabulous, but I'll LOOK fabulous...just about everywhere.

Friday - Airbrush tan. Yep, I've gone Hollywood.

Somewhere in here I need to throw in a mani/pedi. I'm thinking the manicure on Saturday while the house is being "put together" for the party. The pedicure I'll have to do either tonight or tomorrow since I can't get my feet/legs wet after I get airbrushed.

This will be my second airbrushing experience. It's a little funky to be standing in front of someone (a complete stranger) for about an hour, hands out, completely naked. Here's the "funny" thing...last time I went (which, again, was the first time) I took off all my clothes while she was in the room and what did I cover??? My breasts. Yep, left the va-ja-jay out there, but had to cross my arms over my boobs. HAHA! This time will be doubly interesting because I'm getting waxed the day before. I won't spell that one out, and I'm sure they've seen it all...but still. After I'm done I'll look like a Brazilian Super Model, white teeth and bright eyes...okay, maybe not a Super Model, but I'll look Brazilian. Ask Yoga Zen Babe, she saw me after the first one.

The other funky thing about getting an airbrush tan is that you can't really put your underthings back on after you're done. So, you leave the facility going commando, top and bottom. Last time I thought I was going back to work afterward, but had to call Smiley and tell her, "Yeah, I'm not coming in." She said, "Are you okay?" and I said, "I can't wear a bra." I think her laughter was enough to tell me that she understood.

I haven't decided what I'm going to wear to my big soiree. I don't want to get too fancy since it's just at my house, but I want to look good. I got my hair cut last Thursday in a Katie Holmes meets Rihanna kind of way. I LOVE it. Super short and tousled, but more to the front. It's hot. So, I need the outfit to go with the hair, that goes with the tan that compliments my nails. Any ideas? :)

I know, I sound like a complete spoiled brat right now, and I am. I love, love, love my birthday and I'm not ashamed of it. A day that is ALL.ABOUT.ME!

What I want

You'd think that asking for what you want would be easy. It never really is. It SOUNDS easy, but sometimes the task of asking doesn't seem worth it. This probably goes deeper than most people want to read about, but I believe that my mom contributed to how I feel about asking for things that I wanted. I was rejected (told 'no') SO many times that I stopped asking.

Me: Mom, can I go over to Kelly's and play?
Mom: Only after you clean your room.
Me: Okay, all done. Now can I go?
Mom: Only if you take your brother

Me: Mom, can I spend the night at Jake's house?
Mom: No
Me: Why not?
Mom: Because I said so.

Me: Mom, can I go see a movie?
Mom: No.
Me: What if I take my little brother?
Mom: No.
Me: If I clean my room?
Mom: No.
Me: Dad, can I go to the movies?
Dad: Ask your mother.

My whole life was like that. If I asked my dad and my mom found out...BIG trouble. Then if I wanted something it was always tied to something else. Never just, 'sure hon, go ahead', nope, not in my family. I hated being told no, it was like a small rejection every time, so I just quit asking. I would always assume that my mom would say no. The ONLY time she ever surprised me was when I asked to go to upstate New York for the summer with Hoe and she said yes. That story needs to be told...definitely in another blog.

All those experiences in my youth affected me. When I started working I hated asking for a raise or a review. Afraid that they would say no, or that there would be strings attached. In my relationships, if I was rejected in the slightest I would walk/run away. I didn't ask questions that could lead to rejection. I always gave alternatives so the answer couldn't be a plain 'no.'

But, this weekend I got up the nerve to demand something. Something that I wanted. Actually I've done it a couple of times in the past weeks. Trainer lost his wedding ring in the move, which he never wore anyway, but I asked that he get a replacement. I said that he had until our anniversary to get it done, which is three weeks after my birthday. I don't care that it costs money, I'd rather have that instead of a silly birthday or anniversary present. Oh, and I told him that he had to WEAR it this time. I asked for other things too, things that I thought he wouldn't do, but he did.

I don't know if I'll ever be up to the task of asking for a raise or a review, but at least I'm making strides in my personal life. I asked for something with a questionable outcome and it turned out okay. The past may haunt me, but the future doesn't have to loom overhead. The future can be different. I can say no to things that have strings attached, I have choices, I have a voice.

August

Do you know what today is?? It is August 1st...and what is the significance of that? It's BIRTHDAY MONTH! Okay, so really I only get a day, in my world I get a week, in my mind I get a month. I know, it is totally ridiculous, but after the birth of my dear baby brother this was the only thing that was mine and mine alone.

My birthday is actually on the 28th so I have a while to go. I've never been one of those people who dread their birthday. Trainer is definitely one of those. I mean, what is the big deal? It's one more year, some additional wrinkles, BUT a year's worth of knowledge and that is cool. I feel more powerful as I get older. Once I turned 30 I had the right to demand from the 20 somethings - "Hey you, yeah you...young thing...get me a F-ing glass of wine. Red and dry. Make it snappy!" I also have the knowledge to help people and the wisdom to know when and when NOT to give that advice. Yes, getting older has it's advantages.

Yoga Zen Babe is moving out to Austin this weekend! How flippin' excited am I??? Pretty excited! For all of those who will be missing her, I promise to take good care of her and send her out for visits every once in a while. :)

That's all for today. I know, lame...but, I do have work to do. Someone has to bring home a paycheck and keep their job...that would be me. So, until this weekend...be safe!

Fear

What is fear. Fear is an individual thing. There is rational fear and irrational fear.

Rational fear - You're walking down a street in a foreign city and you see a lone man coming your way and he's armed. He asks for your purse...that is rational fear.

Irrational fear - I have so many examples of this that I could write a book that no one would read because they all KNOW what irrational fear is. However I had a bout of this on Friday, the 18th.

In 1992 I had a blood clot, I had been on birth control pills for five months and so that was the reasoning. There were no more tests done, we didn't look at family history. I was put in the hospital, lucky for me it was a private room, for eight long days. Hooked up to an IV of Heparin, a blood thinner, and not moving except side to side when they changed my sheets. When I cried at night because I was scared and alone I was told that I was lucky, that I was walking out of the hospital eventually. The only room open at the time that I arrived was on the cancer floor. So at the age of 18, almost 19 I was told that my feelings were irrational. I had nothing to fear, despite my doctor telling me that I was lucky to be alive after flying for 4 hours with a blood clot, and a large one at that. My clot started in my groin and went down to mid-calf. But, I was going to be lucky and walk out of the hospital.

In 2003 I was having leg pain. My co-worker and I were implementing a new software system for work and we were working 12-14 hour days with no break and drinking very little water. It was January and cold. I was wearing boots, mid-calf, which never fit really well because my left calf was always a little swollen. It never did go all the way down from 1992. However, on this day I could barely zip up the boot, at all, only a little past my ankle so that it would stay on. I brushed off the pain. I didn't want to seem like a hypochondriac. It kept hurting and the next day, when I could barely get my jeans on I called the doctor. My doctor was out but another one in their office got me into her schedule. She tried to pull up the leg on my jeans, but couldn't so I had to take them off...she had to help me get them off because the leg was so swollen. "Well," she said, "it's either a dvt or it could be a burst cyst over the muscle." Oh, how I was praying for a burst cyst, which is really sick if you think about it. The thought of having another dvt (deep vein thrombosis) was unnerving to say the least.

I went to the ultrasound place to get my leg looked at. I was in the middle of training on this new software packaged and almost more panicked that I would be gone from work for too long. I waited in the lobby for my name to be called, sweating and cold with my leg bouncing up and down from nerves. They called me back and I undressed from the waist down and I laid on the table. It was a woman tech and she started at the usual place, right at the groin. She went down just a little bit, about halfway down my thigh, and then back up. "Well, there it is." And then the tears started falling. I have no idea why I was crying. I didn't want it to be true. She had the doctor on site confirm and I wasn't allowed to move until they talked to my doctor. It was decided that I was too young just to do injections and hope that it would go away. The clot was too big. They decided that I was to go into ICU, to do this new treatment for dvt's. Okay, great. But it turned out okay, for a couple of months. I couldn't feel sorry for myself or be scared because I had to reassure everyone else that I was going to be okay.

Later in 2003, just a couple of months later in fact, I was having leg pain again. Same routine, Doppler, more clot, back to the hospital. More ICU and more surgery. But, I'm supposed to feel lucky, again, because I'm going to walk out of this place. I'm still reassuring everyone, reassuring them that the medicine that they are using isn't going to take my blood pressure too low or that when I go unconscious that I'll wake up again. Assuring them that 'I'm fine' and the stents that they placed inside of me don't hurt too much. Assure them that when they ripped the tube out of my leg that it only hurt for a little bit, don't worry...'I'm fine.'

Current day. I go for an annual Doppler every year to check the status of my stents and veins. I have a tremendous amount of scar tissue, tissue that no one can see except for the dr and me when I look at the screen. Apparently I take good pictures, on the inside, too bad that won't get me the cover of Elle. On this day I have a new tech, as I usually do because it's a big facility and the chances of having the same person are slim. My case is unusual, I'm in my early 30s and have stents in my illiac vein. They don't see it often so the test takes up to 2 hours.

Every second of this test I'm in a cold sweat and trying to make jokes to get the tech to communicate with me. He says that it's amazing that I have no valve left in my knee, "I know," I say, "but there are worse fates." He says I have a good attitude. Only because he doesn't know what is going on inside my head. The entire time I'm just waiting for him to say, "Yep, there it is..." but he doesn't say that. My test is done, he checks with the radiologist to make sure that what he is seeing is scar tissue and not a new clot. I wait to get dressed, hugging my knees to my chest, sweating, but with a smile on my face. He comes back in and says I'm good to go and closes the door so I can get dressed. I wipe off the substance that they use for ultrasounds with a towel and with shaking hands I get dressed and leave the facility, smiling.

Once I arrive home I sit on the couch. I'm by myself, Trainer has clients, and it's for the best. I cry. I'm exhausted. I faced my irrational fear again, as I'll do next year, and the year after that. I know that one time in the future my stents will close, that's a medical fact. Until that happens I'll smile on the outside and pretend that I'm okay, I'm fine.

25 things...

Apparently there is a kind of "ritual" on this blog thing...when you hit your 100th post you're supposed to write 100 things about yourself that people may not know. Well, I'm impatient and really, who wants to read all 100 at once? That would be a long-ass post. So, I'm on post #25 and I'm going to tell you #25 things about me, that you may or may not know. :)

1. My dad has always called me Pumpkin and still does to this day (and now I use it as a term of endearment with my friend's kids).

2. I was burned on the arm with a cigarette when I was in kindergarten, I remember the day and what I was wearing, a cookie monster cardigan over a dress (I LOVE cookies!).

3. I started playing the piano when I was 7 years old and wanted to be a concert pianist .

4. The first time I rode a bike without training wheels I ran into a parked truck...it's a wonder that I still ride a bicycle.

5. I love to read all kinds of books, I could stay home and read all day and I read a book in about 5 hours.

6. I grew up in Colorado, but didn't learn to ski until I was 14.

7. I've had three near death experiences: one when I was 8 or 9, one at 19 and one at 29.

8. I have to sleep with covers, even if it's over 100 degrees outside.

9. My first paying job was working at Dairy Queen.

10. I used to get in trouble for bringing home a report card that was less than a 4.0, I only had two report cards with a 4.0, both happened the semesters that I didn't have to work. My friends thought I was weird for not wanting to bring home my 3.75gpa report card.

11. I love peanut butter.

12. I wanted to be married right after college and start a family at 23 years old so I wouldn't be an old parent. I wanted a boy and a girl...the girl would have been Sierra and the boy was going to be Jacob. Two years apart. Yep, had it ALL planned out.

13. I hate scary movies, probably because my Older Bro used to chase me around the house with guns and knives, wearing a ski mask over his head(I'm not kidding) while my parents left me in his care. HATE scary movies.

14. I rode on the back of a "crotch rocket" going 125mph. Scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

15. I'm a Virgo, I take all things spiritual seriously, but I don't believe in organized religion. I believe if you are looking for something, the answer will present itself, you just have to have your eyes and heart open.

16. I've been to 7 KISS concerts, if that's not love...I don't know what is. My least favorite song is Beth which is funny because it was supposed to be Beck, Peter Criss was dating a Becky and the song is about her.

17. I don't have many favorites, I'm always changing or evolving. ;) Color - nope, movie - nope, song/music/artist - nope, nope, nope.

18. I love getting real letters and cards. I love sending them too.

19. I love being near the water, my favorite beach is Cannon Beach in Oregon. It's more like a coastline, whatever, I used to go there with a book or a journal and read or write while I listened to the ocean crashing into the rocks. It was always misty and what some people would call dreary, but it was beautiful to me.

20. I love to fly.

21. I had my first kiss in the 4th grade, behind my fence. I had my first REAL kiss when I was 15 in the back of a van on the way home from a hockey game. His mom was driving. Hehehe...

22. If I could have ONE thing done for me every morning it would be my hair. I hate doing my hair. Dysfunctional wavy...crap...

23. I never wanted to play the clarinet. When I was in 5th grade and you were supposed to pick out your instrument my mom's friend (also my 6th grade teacher) said that she would give me free lessons if I played the clarinet. I got one lesson. Fortunately I was good at it and it paid for my college education.

24. When I hear music and close my eyes I see colors, mostly with classical music...and Pink Floyd. ;)

25. When I go to the grocery store I go down almost every isle, even if I have a list.

Whew! That was TOUGH! I'll have to prepare for the next 25...although that will be a couple of months. :) Post #25 is DONE, and #26 will be here shortly. I have to dish about my weekend.

The journey

Doesn't it seem like we hear that a lot? Life is a journey...weight loss is a journey...journey, journey, journey! Why can't we just be there already? I wasn't one of those kids who kept asking "Are we there yet?" and only because my dad would have gone ballistic. Bless his heart, but truly a control freak driver...and yes, that is where I get it from. I'm well aware that I have those tendencies. :) Seriously though, when do you get to that place where you're like..."Ahhhh, here we are, I'm done with the journey." And I hope it's not when I'm on my death bed ready to give myself over to the unknown.

I've been on a lot of "journeys" lately. Weight loss of course. That effin journey is taking way too long. I should be happy where I'm at, but I'm not. I eat right, most of the time, I cook at home 5-6 nights a week. Maybe if I stopped drinking so much on the weekend...that might help. I was going to try that theory out this past weekend, but that didn't happen. The good thing is that instead of drinking 2 days out of the weekend I only did it once....although in that one time I really did it up. Huh. Anyway, I still subscribe to WW online and chat with people on there. Sometimes I get something out of it, other times I want to shout "Jeeezus people, eat less, exercise more...get it through your head!" And of course I don't because we all know that there is psychology to weight loss. Emotional eating, eating because you're bored, eating because you really like food. Ugh.

My work journey is going okay. When I first moved to Austin I was hired as an Accounts Payable person. They PAID me to file, isn't that awesome? I happened to start working there right when their audit was about to start, which is kind of funny because at my last job we were ALWAYS in some kind of audit. They asked if I could do schedules and reconciliations and I did them. Plain was amazed...and then I realized that he really didn't read my resume. Eh, whatever.

I got promoted by August and started my new job. Reporting and Budgeting...fun, fun...I know you're thinking it! I helped the company move it's country of domestication from Canada to the US. It was a 6 month grueling process. I got a wonderful bonus out of it though...a trip to St. John for me and Trainer. Can't beat that with a stick! Well, since then (last June) it's just been floating...my job. I do things, I report on the quarters...yawn...I know...that is what I was feeling too. So, then I have this opportunity to implement some new software packages, and I jumped at it. These are LONG drawn out processes and I still have my reporting duties...a little overwhelmed? Yeah, but it's okay, it's nothing I haven't done before. I do have one tiny little fear, and it's an irrational one, but that I could get a blood clot again. The last time I implemented a software package I had my second one. I KNOW that it's not going to happen this time, but any time my leg swells up I freak out a little.

Which is the next flippin journey...the exercise journey. Kind of tied to the weight loss journey but not really. I don't exercise to lose weight, it's supposed to help, however every time I do some really intense training regimen my body holds on to every pound. So, I do it for my health. I do it so that I won't get a clot again, I do it to make myself a better person, more well rounded to talk to different people, to multi-task when I have a friend with me (you have NO idea how much it helps your endurance when you're running up a 12% grade hill with a friend and talking the entire time), mostly I use it to do something that scares me. I was never an athletic child, I had allergies, and so all of this was new to me. When Trainer and I first got together we didn't exercise, unless you count the 12oz. curls!! When I moved to Austin I wanted to find something that was MY exercise, something that I was really good at. I tried rowing, I loved it, but it is a little far to drive every day. I tried boxing, REALLY loved that. I even have my own bag at home. But, it was expensive and I quit working out at home. Now I'm trying swimming...ugh. Cycling is the one exercise that is almost effortless...almost...and I enjoy it, but it's not completely mine. Running is great when you have the right partner, but it's SO not effortless. One day I'll find something, but until then my journey is to keep looking.

My marriage has been a journey. HAHAHA! That is the understatement of the decade. Sometimes I enjoy the journey, sometimes I reflect on the journey and sometimes I just want to stop and scream "ENOUGH!" But I don't. We keep on the journey. I know he feels the same way at times, he doesn't voice that fact, but it comes through in his actions. Staying out all night without calling, his previous DUI's...it's been a long ass journey. When we moved to Austin and after about 5 months we almost called it quits. Some of you know this, others of you don't. We struggled, mostly it was Trainer that struggled. He doesn't do well with change, and change is something I do very well. That was the closest we ever came to divorce, the word was actually uttered in our conversation. He decided that he needed to give our situation more time, and I'm glad he did. Now we have a new change on the horizon...Trainer going into business with a couple of other trainers. This is a really, really big step for him. Things are starting to roll, and he's starting to react to change like he usually does...with some outlandish behavior that any normal wife would deem unacceptable. However, I'm not that normal wife. I was born with the ability to separate myself from the situation personally and take care of, or guide people through what they're going through.

The Saint says that I've missed my calling as a therapist. Haha, maybe she's right. Maybe my next work journey will be me going back to school for a degree and masters in Psychology? Who knows? All of these journeys are necessary, I understand that, but I don't have to like it all of the time. I know I'm not alone in my journey, there are others around me...my cheerleaders...but the decisions are mine, the path is mine. Time for another leap of faith...

A funny story...kind of

Okay...so in high school I hated cheerleaders. HATED them. They made you feel bad about yourself because you weren't a part of their group, you weren't thin enough...athletic enough...you didn't wear the right clothes...etc. Now really, did THEY make you feel bad about yourself? No, probably not, but that whole "status" circle clique crap starts and the feelings of being a lesser person. For most kids it the first time they have these feelings of low self-esteem. I was a size 6 in high school (my junior year) after I hit puberty...late, I know. And I had D sized breasts. You think that I would have celebrated, but really I was really embarrassed and hid my body.

Well, I couldn't attract guys with my body, since I hid it, and I wasn't a flirty girl anyway...something about being Catholic...I don't know. As I've said before I had a lot of friends. I think I made myself feel better by being "there" for people. I hated attracting attention, but I was the first one to lift someone else up. I was there for my mom, dad, brothers...always in the middle of everything. I was there for kids and adults alike. Some how this characteristic carried forward...and here we are in the present.

I am the best EFFING CHEERLEADER EVER! GOOOOOOOOOOOO TEAM!

I am the go to person. I am the one that will keep your secret, that will listen at any time of the day, any day of the week. My boss confides in me, my friends confide in me and I'm pretty sure my puppies would confide in me if they could talk. Fifi would tell me how much it hurts her feelings when she just wants to eat and Fido won't stop biting her leg.

This one time I went to a strip club, it was my FIRST time, and do you know what happened? Trainer and his friend Bad Influence bought me a lap dance. This chick's ta-tas were huge and of course fake. She asked, "Is this awkward for you?" and I said, "Just a little, but nice boobs." She smiled and continued to talk while I got my 3 minutes of "pleasure." So, then after a while the boys were up at the stage and I was doling out the one dollar bills to them so they wouldn't over spend. I was sitting at our table and the stripper who gave me my lap dance sat down. She started talking to me about her kids, then another one sat down and they were comparing kid notes and I just sat there listening about how tv was SO bad these days. (Riiight, said the stripper mothers to each other.) I would chime in on occasion and pretty soon I had four of the strippers sitting with me...all topless...telling me about their life's ambitions. Just another day in the life of ME.

I have had friends go through almost everything you can imagine. I've had friends go through the divorce of their parents, I've had friends who wanted to end their life, I've had friends in abusive relationships and even one with a serious eating disorder. I've also had friends go through tough but happy times, such as pregnancy. And through all of this I was there. Don't take this wrong, I'm not trying to pat myself on the back. My point is that it's so funny that I despised exactly what I became.

In these upcoming months I need to do a little soul searching. It's hard for me to reach out to people with the really hard stuff. I'M the one who is supposed to be there for people, not the other way around. I'm sure a lot of us feel that way. I hide behind other people's problems, concentrating on their issues instead of dealing with my own. Time to be my own cheerleader.