I choose to be better

It’s no secret I have a temper. It’s hard wired in my genes. When I get pissed there’s usually an exhausting process but is always the result of being hurt or disrespected. I fight back tears. My chest feels like it’s going to explode, I can’t breathe, I shake, my blood is literally boiling and I’m ready to tell you all the reasons you can fuck off. I can insult you like you have never seen. Fuck going below the belt, I can take that bitch off and beat you with it. I will make sure you think twice before disrespecting me again. If I’m pushed to physical blows, I can briefly black out and when I come to, I’m drowning in confusion when I realize what’s happened and I see you on the floor. It’s actually a terrifying feeling for me as much as it is for you.

Now I choose to be better mentally. To avoid being on the defense. I have learned to breathe and step away from the situation regardless how much you deserve to feel my roar. I feel the rage pulsing through my whole body, from my toes to the top of my head. I want to explode but I’m actually protecting you. When I completely calm down, it’s like a weighted blanket wraps me. My heart finally slows down and I feel the heat leave my body. My ears even burn and the pressure releases leaving an ache in my head. To not explode is actually more physically exhausting for me, it’s a crash. Fighting would be energizing, like a wrestler punching his chest. Instead I’m drained of every bit of energy to save you from my wrath. Eventually I feel better and proud of this accomplishment. Very few people can help me with this process. So thankful for my best friend having this gift so I can continue to grow into being a better and stronger person.


50 Lifesyle changes for happy and healthy living


Old soul

The wind so cool.

The sun shining on my face.

Tears coming from my eyes,

And a broken heart in my body.

My love’s so strong that my life’s gone.

I wrote this when I was about 9 years old. Sitting at the dining room table while my Aunt Kathy was drinking coffee and chatting with my mom. I still remember this poem by memory 30 years later and I’m still in disbelief that a child could put those words together. Maybe it was possible because my mom always encouraged my love of poetry. She would surprise me with books, especially poetry books even though she didn’t care much for poetry herself. She called me her little book worm and was proud of my passion for words.

Old soul

I always had a special gift. Even as a child my Aunt would tell me she felt my aura and that I have been here before. That I was a gifted old soul with an intuitive ability, a spiritual calling you would say. Many times she encouraged me to pursue my gift, that not everyone has this ability but she saw it in my eyes and I should learn how to explore it. I sometimes know things before they happen, always have. I get a feeling in my chest when I know something others don’t. Sometimes I get a swirling in my stomach and my head aches, my ears tingle and I stay quiet because a feeling comes over me, maybe a glimpse of a vision. Most would call it your gut instinct, mine is kinda kicked up a notch. Sometimes I listen to it, and sometimes I push through it unsure if it’s the gift or natural fears. That’s the downside, never knowing if I’m walking right past the danger sign or just being a worry wart.

I can read people. I hear the unsaid words and I see the hidden emotions. I absorb them like a towel soaking up a spill and I feel them deep in my soul. It’s exhausting and when it happens, it’s a completely natural sense like smelling a flower. As a result, I always see both sides to a story or situation. I can relate and usually sympathize with all sides. 

Were those words I wrote at 9 carried from a previous life or was I absorbing emotions around me even then? Do I have a special ability that sometimes feels like a curse rather than a gift? If I were to pursue perfecting this would life scare me more or would it ease my fears of the unknown?

Relatable rawness


What an amazing ability it is to be able to write beautifully. To express your emotions and fears and in such a way that allows others to relate and visualize the rawness.

Never have I sat and just read my own words so much as I have in the last 24 hours. And damn I think I’m pretty awesome. A beautiful disaster with a map of scars and cracks that have been filled with sprinkles and gold as I conquered each battle. Finally again, feeling back to my bad-ass sassy self. God I’ve missed you.

Finding my way


I’m rereading through my posts because in truth this blog is my journal. Reading the highs and lows of my past. I read my words and place myself back in time and feel my strength.

Damn I am a strong person.

Person aka human.

Human = flawed individual that was put here on a journey full of opportunities to learn and grow.

Total bad ass

Dude….that’s my mom – http://wp.me/p271pb-3T

Aha moment

It’s been a very long time since I snapped. I understand hot tempers because honestly mine has been one of the worst. That’s why I completely avoid conflict and drama. They trigger this beast in me, and it’s a mighty beast that takes over and I’m watching from a distance, excluding the black-outs. These are not alcohol induced black-outs. It’s pure rage. I lose control. I lose minutes literally in the blink of an eye. When I come to, it’s after I get body slammed by some dude to control the crazy bitch that was unleashed and I realize I physically attacked someone. I don’t know if people see me as this anymore but I know it’s always there, and I fear that part of me. In truth there were many times I could have been arrested, especially during my marriage. He protected me a few times from that. Probably guilt because he knew he caused it, I think he enjoyed bringing that out of me. Jealousy is an evil darkness for me. Fuck seeing red, my rage is the blackest black.

I think the fear of releasing that monster is why I step away from situations and people completely. I’m terrified of losing control. I take pride in my calm reaction to things now. I know once I lose that I go to another place entirely and it’s full of pain and chaos. I get drunk off the emotions like an alcoholic. Instead I choose peace now.


I’m an open, honest and blunt person to a fault. When I allow someone in my tight circle, I will share my world with you. There are no boundaries for our conversations. I will tell you all the details of my soul and I want to know yours. This is how I connect. Not knowing where the line is has caused a lot of people to step away. And I honestly don’t do it intentionally, it’s not meant to hurt anyone. I just crave deep conversations, with raw emotions that make you look hard at things..to grow. 

A few days ago, sitting with my son at his therapy session we were brainstorming to prepare for his IEP meeting at school. The therapist was discussing his communication disorder and what things will help him. We discussed note taking and different ways to use these to be successful throughout your life. I explained what I do and how I use my notes. That I prefer using my hand written notes vs the typed organized version because when I see my hand written notes I’m able to replay the moment in my head, helping me remember the information. The therapist had a “aha” moment and her mouth dropped, she sat closer literally on the edge of her seat and said “do you know you probably also have a communication disorder?”. Mind you, this isn’t just my son’s therapist. After my divorce I saw her myself for over 3 years. She knows me better than anyone. I sat there speachless and frozen and honestly a little embarrassed and finally said “I think I’ve learned a lot about myself by learning about Ryan. We are alike in many ways.” 

Tonight this became even more apparent. Asking my now ex-boyfriend a question, which offended him. Maybe because it’s through text he thought I was starting a fight but I wasn’t. I was asking because I needed deep raw conversation and he is my best friend and I seem to be a retard when ending a relationship. I mean, I’m a very strong independent woman and he’s more the needy, romantic, insecure type and he moved on very fast from our breakup after spending a year and a half beating me with how he wouldn’t be able to move on right away..numerous times implied a year or longer if at all because of his love for me.. it took him at most a month after moving out. I wanted to know what helped him. How do you start over so soon. Not in the “how could you asshole” way, in the “teach me how to be normal” way. And he’s the one whom I tell everything to and have the most raw discussions with. Mind you I was drinking and explained to my 20 year old daughter who said “oh no, you can’t ask him that”. I didn’t understand and asked her to explain. I began crying because I honestly didn’t and still don’t understand. At that moment I thought of my son, and all the conversations he needs explaining appropriate or common sense things. I thought how he gets frustrated and wants it explained more and hears “you should know this, it’s common sense” all day at school. How embarrassed he feels when he doesn’t understand. This was my “aha” moment. 

Previous Older Entries