Archive for November, 2012

The Watcher

It’s no secret that I want to be a published writer…I have done some stories and lots of poems. I don’t pretend that they’re good or earth-shattering, but I guess I enjoy them from time to time.


The Watcher

My footsteps echo another’s

As I trek this lonely stretch

Of sand.  The ground is smooth,

As if the ocean had already claimed

It and wore it away until, bored

With its broken toy, it had receded

Again to play at home.


Do oceans have homes?


The question bounced in my head

As I walked, step by unwavering step,

Following your steps.

Did you waver at any moment?

If you did, would your steps tell?

My head bowed, I didn’t want to

See what was ahead, just what was


All I needed to know was the sand

With footsteps welcoming onward,

And forget the desolate Behind.


I come from nowhere.

I am nothing.

I am no one.


Hear my prayers.


My burden is a single blood rose

In my left hand.

It slows me, though with each passing

Step a petal more detaches,

Catches in the wind,

And away it flies.

Blood droplets in the sky—

I can taste it.

Ecstasy fills my head,

Making me dizzy.

This unintentional high drops

Through my body,

Making me as light as a petal.

The rose is simply a stem and some

Thorns now.

The wind cannot capture the stem,

For I have buried the thorns deep

Into my flesh.

The ocean clamors,

And for a moment I feel it could

Be my voice that emits such a


A roar!

I am HERE!

This is ME!


The footsteps are doomed to end.

It is the inevitability of

Life that claws at my heart so.

Do you know who I am?

A youthful man at first,

Halfway through life after consideration,

And on death’s door after a good, hard look.

But no one looks anymore,

Not like the petals of the rose did.

I only wish to fulfill my destiny,

But the wind whistles regrets.


Why did I come here?


To forget bare shoulders.

To banish piercing green eyes.

To remove long, curvaceous limbs.

To stop the crying.

To love you with all my being,

As I was meant to,

As I cannot do less,

As I strangled you.


I needed you with me,

Don’t you see?

Your nose so straight,

Your teeth so white,

Your lips so pale.

I only wanted to hold you,

My calloused hands to your

Long, crystalline neck.

So elegant, a swan.

These winds would rip you apart.


My heart bleeds in your absence.


These steps are yours.

The clouds lied when they warned me

To stop.

I couldn’t stop;

The ocean was your favorite,

Your escape.

You belonged there,

Were at peace there.

But your eyes…

So harsh and surreal under the

Weight of the waves.

I only meant to lock you in my

Arms, make you my mermaid queen

In our own faraway kingdom.

Now do you know?


Closer to the lapping of the waves,

The footsteps are gone.

How evanescent this reality.

But I know you’re there,

Just underneath,

Waiting for me.

Ah, this burden weighs so heavily.

My name, my name, you must

Finally know:


Your lover!

Your murderer!

I can’t let you go!

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We all have dealt with *those* people.  The ones that are rude, stuck up, and ego-centric.  The ones that think they know everything, and, unfortunately for them, they really don’t…but they feel the need to just let you know how it is in the meanest, most unhelpful way possible.  Yep, I’ve met a handful of people like that, that I’ve had to constantly deal with.  I mean, I’m sure there’s tons out there, but thankfully, there’s only a few in my life that I see on a semi-regular basis.  Unfortunately for me, one of those happens to be someone I work with.  Oh, and don’t worry, another one of those people decided recently to come on board!

Now, I don’t like confrontations.  They make me anxious.  Plus, I have this annoying habit of crying whenever I feel any emotion even remotely strongly.  Sad? Cry.  Mad? Cry. Upset? Cry. Happy? Cry. MAJORLY PISSED OFF??? Definitely cry. And people sometimes take that as a sign of weakness, so I do really try to avoid confrontation. With that being said, I don’t like fakeness. I’m over the whole “Oh, just pretend to like them to their faces so you don’t start something.” No, if I don’t like you, I will not go out of my way to make it seem like I like you. I hope you won’t do that to me…if you don’t like me, I want to know!  With *that* being said, I also won’t go out of my way to make your life hell just because I don’t like you. You have to do something to me first,  haha.

I will avidly avoid people I don’t like. I won’t speak to them, I won’t make faces at them or glare at them, and I won’t stick around them. Some people, however, sometimes don’t get the hint and insist on trying to get in my face and just talk my ear off, thinking that, perhaps if I annoy her, she’ll like me! Wrong! Please, just leave me alone also, so we can have a professional relationship and THAT’S ALL!

I feel like I’m using the word “unfortunately” way too much here today.  Unfortunately for me, one of those people I have to deal with constantly. And there’s no way to avoid it. Even more confusingly, there are times that she’s really nice to me. Does something nice for me, says something nice to me, laughs and jokes around…and then there are the days where I might as well be one of the stupidest people on the face of the earth for the way she talks to me. Either that, or I purposefully go out of my way to make her life suck, so therefore she has to yell at me for no reason. Like, she will give instructions in the meanest voice possible with an intonation of “you did everything in your life wrong, and I want you to know that”.  I get so very, very frustrated. Lately, I’ve been trying to talk back. If you talk to me that way, then I can talk to you that way. Someone can fire me if they don’t like it. There is no excuse for me to walk in the door at work, and you are on my back. For things that got done incorrectly while I wasn’t there, or things that didn’t get done at all…while I wasn’t there! As a side note, I don’t have any say in my schedule unless I request a day off, which I rarely do!  Seriously, I have been put into tears on more than one occassion. There is no excuse for that. To specify, put into tears because I was unfairly reprimanded in front of other people. Sometimes, and I’m trying really hard to not sound dramatic, it seems like everything that goes wrong at my job seems to be my fault somehow. And I’m tired of it! Can you imagine???

I used to not stand up for myself. I used to let people just walk all over me. Not anymore! Sorry, don’t with that! Life is too short, and I’m already way too stressed about other things to just let stuff like that bottle up inside of me! And don’t worry, I have also had talks with this person on the fact that she addresses people meanly, that she has put me into tears, and that she yells at me for things that are in no way my fault. In fact, she has admitted to doing all these things. Apparently because she has all the problems that most other people do, she is allowed to continue to do these things. Sorry, not accepting that. I remain somewhat torn, because, like I said before, she has those days where she’s fine. And she has even taken medication for anxiety and such. (And believe me, long story short, I have been on pills for depression and anxiety and sleep disorders, and I completely sympathize with people who have these problems…however, I have come to the conclusion after a long period of study that she just likes to treat people however she feels like at the moment). So, frustrating.

And it isn’t just me, is the bottom line. She treats everyone like that, including the manager sometimes! Go figure. But I stick up for other people as best as I can. Someone once referred to me as an “attack cat.” And it’s true. If I like you, I am a fiercely loyal person. I will be your “attack cat.” (And seriously, that “someone” was the district manager for the last store I worked at, because I was apparently using my severe tone to defend something my manager did.) When this person puts someone else in tears and tells them they can’t do anything right, I look them in the eyes and say, “She does this to everyone. We both know you are smart and capable. I know you’re upset, but please don’t listen to her. You do the best you can, and that’s all we can ask for.” And whatever else, for whichever person is it for. I mean, girls and women have enough people putting them down all the time. Society, men, parents, teachers, peers…do they need to add another person to the list??? No. Especially when that person is wrong to do it in the first place.

Bottom line: Stick up for yourself, and stick up for other people. Make the world a little nicer!

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That quote would be an original. Unfortunately. No, eating away one’s sorrows isn’t the best of way to go about things, but that would be how my life usually ends up.

Sad? *eats*

Mad? *eats*

Stressed? *eats*

That reaction probably never helped the fact that I was chubby ever since I was born. It doesn’t help that both my brother and my sister are really thin. And it doesn’t help that every time I tell my mother I’m an emotional eater, she reminds me that when she’s depressed, food is the last thing on her mind.  Well, mom, it’s the first thing on my mind…ALL THE TIME!

I know there are a lot of people out there that scoff at the idea of a food addiction, but I really think it’s a real thing. The bad thing is, is it’s not exactly like alcohol addiction. You can’t *not* eat. If you’re addicted to alcohol, you’re supposed to stay away from it and never drink another drop. Can’t really do that with food. And I’m not saying it’s worse or better or anything, I’m just saying. Since I seem to have a bit of an addicted personality, I’ve just sworn to never try alcohol or smoking or drugs. I’ve always just been scared I would instantly be addicted, and my will power is about zero. At least I was smart enough to plan ahead.

Food, however…that’s a different story. I’ve always been overweight. There’s always that part of me that irrationally is angry at my mother for not stepping in and trying to help me before it got way out of hand. While I knew people who were bigger than me, most people were definitely smaller than me, and I was beyond aware of that. And I never deluded myself…I knew how much I weighed, what I should have weighed, and what I really looked like.

I hated myself. I know you’re supposed to love yourself for who you are, but I hated myself. I looked at skinny actresses and singers and friends and just hated myself. “What I would give to just be skinny!” Seriously…I would tell myself the most awful things over and over again…”you’re fat; you’re ugly; you’re gross; who would want you?; how can people even look at me”…and it lasted from probably middle of elementary school until about beginning of this year (2012). No joke. There were three small periods that I can think of in there that I wasn’t quite so mean…and what do you know, they all stemmed from a dramatic weight loss of 20 pounds or more.  Don’t worry, though…I always put it right back on!

The best one was the weight loss in college. I had to take a gym class…I lost so much weight. I think I lost about 40 pounds. I was on cloud nine. I went home for Christmas break, and I will never forget my dad looking at me and going, “You look good, but you’re not going to lose anymore, are you?” Now, mind you, I was not by any means *skinny*.  I was still a good 30 pounds overweight (and for reference, I was in a size 14 jeans…although, in my defense, my legs and hips lose fat the slowest, and I have long since come to the conclusion that I will always have a large pant size).  And, no joke, from that day forth, I put the weight back on. Not all of it, but about 25 pounds of it. It probably didn’t help that there were Christmas cookies and no rec center.

I was talking to a counselor; I was reading books; I was reading internet articles; I was working out; I was dieting; I was eating fat free foods…nothing seemed to help. Eventually I hit a plateau and was pretty much okay with it for a while.  And then…I stopped dieting. There were a lot of factors going on in my life at the time, but with the food part of it…I stopped dieting. I stopped obsessing over every freaking calorie that was going into my mouth. I used to know calories and serving sizes for everything like you wouldn’t believe. I ate what I wanted, when I wanted. I got a job that was actually pretty physically demanding. (In charge of a stock room in retail) And…I lost some weight. I didn’t lose tons. I’m not as thin as that one moment in college. But I feel slimmer, probably because I gained some muscle. But you know what? I also learned how to dress myself well. And I learned some self worth.

I don’t think that’s something you can really just *learn*…you just kind of have to come by it. I know that doesn’t help if you desperately need it and don’t know how to get it…but I think it comes with age and finding some happiness in your life. I found a guy who accepted me, no matter what body shape I was. I think the school scene doesn’t really help either, unless you’re just naturally secure in yourself. I’m not, and I probably won’t ever entirely be. But let me tell you, there’s more to life than just numbers on your pants. I’m not as thin as I’d like to be, but I’ve always accepted that I’m never going to be a size 2. My hip bones are a little too big for that. But maybe eventually I will hit my goal weight. But if you’re healthy and happy, who is to say what weight you should be? And seriously, working at clothes store really did help me learn how to dress myself. There are clothes and fits that can just slim you right down.

I’m not sure how confusing and non-linear that was…unfortunately, it’s just one of those “girl” days and I’m on some pain meds, haha. Probably not the best time to be doing a blog when I’m just starting out, but hey, that’s who I am. Loopy and writing. But this is one topic that has haunted me my whole life, and I know there’s many out there just like me. It’s okay…really…love yourself 🙂 ❤

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Seriously, though.  I love to sing, even though I can’t sing well (at all).  I used to be embarrassed when I would catch myself making faces in the nearest mirror, like I’m the actual singer performing in a music video.  But eventually, I came to realize that probably most people have done that at some point. 

The thing is, I used to be extremely self-conscious.  Now…I’m just very self-conscious, so I consider that an improvement.  An improvement I thought I would never see.  There were days when I would think, “Soon will come the day when I won’t even be able to leave my house.”  And don’t worry, I probably actually thought it in those exact words.  Because I’m weird. 

It seems like it’s more common now for me to find videos on youtube or articles somewhere on the internet about being yourself, no matter who that is, and that being yourself is the best thing you can do in your life.  That makes me happy.  For a long time, I hated who I was.  In fact, sometimes I still can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror.  I have to keep reminding myself that I’ve come a long, long way.  And there is a lot of people who have made the same journey I have.  Some are just starting, some are in the same resting point, some have surpassed me, and some are just in the “wishful thinking” stage.

I don’t really know what this blog will be about.  The thing of it is, is that I’m not entirely happy with where I am in my life right now.  Not all of it.  I have some kick ass friends, and I have a home, and a good family, and I’m married to a great guy.  I have two amazing…cats!  Yes, cats, and yes, they are like my babies.  I will go on and on about them if I can.  But I want to be a writer.  I want to be a psychologist.  I want to be something that I’m happy doing.  Right now I’m in the retail business, like I’ve been my whole life, and I’m tired of it.  People usually suck the life out of me, and let’s face it…if you’ve ever been in retail, you know what I’m talking about.  Especially around the holidays.  But perhaps some of this blog will be to follow the trend in trying to help someone in need out there.  Someone who is like I was, or someone who is in the same place as me. 

Because let’s just face the facts…the number one thing I would like to improve in my life is still *me*, because it’s just really hard to break yourself out of the vicious cycle of hating yourself, once that cycle starts.  I’ve been haunted by myself since my first conscious memories.  I think I grew up a little fast in that I’ve always been conscious of myself and how I’m different from other people.  What’s so different about me, you ask? (or don’t ask, because no one is actually reading this) That’s the thing…nothing you can necessarily see. The thing is…

I’ve just always been plagued by this feeling that I don’t belong here.  And maybe this will continue to help me fight thought that feeling, or else at least come to some feeling of acceptance.

With that being said… *goes back to singing and lip-syncing while making faces in the mirror*

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