So now tell me how your story goes. Have you ever suffered?
If so, did you get better or have you never quite recovered from it?
Did you find your lover laying in your bedroom with another and then
Did you let it hover over you and everything else well after the fact?

Show me all your bruises. I know everybody wears them.
They broadcast the pain–how you hurt, how you reacted.
Did cancer take your child? Did your father have a heart attack?
Have you had a moment forced the whole heart to grow or retract?

Or just shrink.
Does the heart shrink?

Tell me everything. Tell me everything you know.

Were you told as a child how cruel the whole world can be?
Did anybody ever tell you that?
Tell me what your purpose is? Who it was that put you here and why?
Did anybody really put you here at all?
And what of those necessities? Like how to cope with tragedy and pain?
Did anybody ever show you how?
When it hits will my heart burst or break or grow strong?
Is there really only one way to know now?

I'm not sure if I'm ready yet to find out the hard way
How strong I am. What I'm made of.
I'm not sure if I'm ready yet to walk through the fire.
I'm not sure I can handle it.
Do you think if the heart keeps on shrinking
One day there will be no heart at all?
And how long does it take?
Am I better off just bursting or breaking?
Because I don't see my heart getting strong.

Tell your stories to me. Show your bruises.
Let's see what humanity is capable of handling.

She lost her kid, only seven, to cancer. She answered with faith in her god and carried on,
While he was attacked by his son and was stabbed in his stomach and his back and his arms.
He showed me scars.
82 years old, told me, “I still have my daughter and my wife. And I still have
My life and my son.”

Tell me what your worst fears are. I bet they look a lot like mine.
Tell me what you think about when you can't fall asleep at night.
Tell me that you're struggling. Tell me that you're scared. No,
Tell me that you're terrified of life.
Tell me that it's difficult to not think of death sometimes.
Tell me how you lost. Tell me how he left. Tell me how she left.
Tell me how you lost everything that you had.
Tell me that it ain't ever coming back.
Tell me about God. Tell me about love.
Tell me that it's all of the above.

Say you think of everything in fear.
I bet you're not the only one does.
Everyone in the world comes at some point to suffering.
I wonder when I will. I wonder.
Everyone is out searching for someone or something.
I wonder what I'll find. I wonder.
-La Dispute
~~~~~
I posted the lyrics because as powerful as they are when you listen to the song, I feel they are even more powerful when read. This song was my inspiration to write a positive focused entry.

I've been reflecting back on the past few years and I've come to the conclusion that I've become a bit spoiled. If my biggest complaint right now is the fact that my higher education plans are taking twice as long as everyone else, then I really have nothing to complain about.

Yes, I've been on a sort of downward spiral mentally and emotionally the past few weeks, but I've come soooo far, even in just the last 6 months. I can go outside, I can enjoy being around people without having a panic attack (most times), I have way more good days than bad days. I no longer have panic attacks at work; in fact I don't even get as stressed as I used to at work when people start yelling at me. I'm able to just let things roll off my back a lot easier, and with minimal effort. That was never the case even just 6 months ago.

I'm proud of myself for battling my severe anxiety, and for the past bit, I've been doing it without the aid of medication. I still have to take my rescue meds sometimes, I don't like to, because I feel like I'm failing a bit, but deep down I know it's not the case and that the meds are there to help me, and we all need help sometimes.

I live in a real place now. Long gone are the days of living in a basically condemned house or the nights of sleeping on a frozen Tempurpedic pillow in the corner of a friend's garage (trust me, I don't miss that at all!!). In fact, I had heat this winter for the first time in 3 years (of course it would be the warmest winter I remember but still! The fact remains that I no longer have to be cold!)

I have a favourite who helps me every step of the way. People often ask me if R is "the one." Of course he is. He's the one who took me to the hospital and held my hand through all the pokes and prods and scans. He's the one who let me go and pursue my lifelong dream of being in the military. We had only been together 2 months before I left for basic. He wrote to me at least once every.single.day. He was the one who helped me cope with the fact that my migraines would keep me from doing what I thought I always wanted to do. He's the one who took care of me and basically had to do every thing for me when my anxiety had basically left me a vegetable. He's the one who reminds me every moment of every day that I'm loved, no matter what. He's the one who loves me completely, on my good days and on my bad days. He's the one for me, and every day I try my best to be the partner he deserves.

I have 3 adorable critters, who need me just as much as I need them. They love me no matter what, and they love me even more if I have treats for them.

I've been through some terrible shit, and I shouldn't forget that. If I forget what I've been through, I'll forget how strong I am. I don't want to forget the past because then I wouldn't be able to truly appreciate the times of respite.
I've come a long way, but I have a ways to go still.
Thank you to all who have stood by my side, encouraged me, and never once gave up on me. And thanks for bearing with me when I forget just how good I have it now.

I think I saw you in my sleep, darling
I think I saw you in my dreams,
You were stitching up the seams
On every broken promise that your body couldn't keep
I think I saw you in my sleep

Oh, I think I saw you in my sleep, darling
I think I saw you in my dreams,
You were stitching up the seams
On every broken promise that your body couldn't keep
I think I saw you in my sleep

I thought I heard the door open, oh no
Thought I heard the door open, but I only heard it close
I thought I heard a plane crashing
But now I think it was your passion snapping

I think you saw me confronting my fear
It went up with the bottle and down with the beer
And I think you oughta stay away from here
There are ghosts in the walls and they crawl in your head through your ear

I think I saw you in my sleep, lover
I think I saw you in my dreams,
You were stitching up the seams
On every mangled promise that your body couldn't keep
I think I saw you in my sleep

-La Dispute

You know what sucks? You're boyfriend telling you how great it's been to get back together with some of his college buddies and go to concerts, and drink, and play Guitar Hero, and sleep all day, and that it's, "just like college."
College has been hell. And it still is hell. I work almost full time and go to school full time. I'm exhausted and drained and I can't ever say I will ever look back and think that all this shit was worth it. 5 years to get an associates degree. How much of a freaking failure is that? 5 fucking years. I could be working on my masters right now, but no, I'll be lucky if I can keep it together for the next 6 weeks to get my "Associates in General Studies." What a waste of time. If I had been able to graduate last semester I would've had an Associates in Liberal Arts & Science but then they changed their entire program and so now I'm stuck with not just a useless degree, but a degree that sounds even more useless than the one I was trying to go for. I could still go for the Arts and Science but it would only take me 2 more years given how they changed allllll the requirements.
I'm so done with this bullshit. I'm done being scammed and screwed over. Yes, I'm bitter, yes, I'm angry. This has been the biggest sore spot for me since I graduated high school. Biodad didn't "allow" me to apply for Universities, or financial aid, but instead told me I was only allowed to go to the local community college, but that they weren't paying for it. So I've been working and putting myself through college. And I hate it. I realize there are a lot of people in my situation who work and go to school but for me, I just can't handle it. I can't focus on making decent grades, doing well at my job (which is freaking retail so I'm constantly worrying about my performance), as well as maintaining a house, paying bills, and feeding myself on the rare occasions that I realize I'm hungry and have the time/money to eat.

5 years. I'm 23 years old and all I will have to show for my 5 years of hard work is a crappy piece of paper that is completely useless unless I transfer and get a Bachelors. Which, at this point, is not looking like I will ever be able to afford.
I'm jealous that R was able to go to a real school and get real scholarships and go to not only a real college but one of the top universities in the country, on a full ride. I'm jealous that I won't be able to look back at my experience and feel anything other than sadness and anger. I'm jealous that my cousin got to drop out after only 6 weeks and still get to live with my grandparents and not have to work and still gets everything paid for.
Sometimes, I'm tired of being the one "good kid" in the family. I work hard, and I get screwed over even harder.

Wedge has recently made a new friend. I found the little toy bunny at the grocer right up the street. I teased R and said I bought it was a "surrogate" cuddle bunny, since Wedge is not fond of being picked up or snuggling. I found Wedge grooming the bunny the other day, and now she's started sleeping next to it. I just happened to catch her by it and my camera was actually near by for once!

Isn't this just about the cutest thing you've ever seen????
:3

You know, that last post (anger and ignorance fueled as it was) has brought me to a little bit of a better place. It made me think and realize that as neutral as I like to be on most things, that there are going to be some subjects in which my prejudice will blind me. And personally, I think that is okay. I cannot, for now, understand or feel any empathy for sex addiction/addicts. I don't think that is really going to hinder my life in any way at this point, and I won't go out of my way to hate on that subject any further.

As for the letter, I'm still on the fence. See, as much as I loathe him, I don't see how expressing how much I hate him will help with anything. He lives in his own reality, and cannot accept the real world. I really do believe that he is incapable of accepting reality. It will just be a waste of paper basically, and I don't think it will make me feel any better, mainly because it won't engender any genuine change. If spewing of angry, hurtful, hateful, yet truthful words haven't worked in the past, why would it now?
To be honest, if it did shatter his made-up world and forced him to look straight into the eyes of reality, I know he would probably kill himself out of the shame of all he has done. And I don't care how much I hate him, I don't want to be the trigger for his suicide. His side of the family is fraught with suicides. Most of of the deaths of his high school classmates have been the result of suicide.
If he wants to kill himself, that's fine, but I don't want anything I've said or done to be the trigger. That is the main reason why I haven't said anything to him since our last encounter. In fact, it's the only reason. There have been many nights where I've woken up screaming and in a cold sweat from the nightmares he made me live in once. I've talked myself out of multiple times where all I wanted was to scream at him and tell him how horrible he is.
But it's not my job. And as much as I hate to admit it, there is the tiniest, teeniest, most remotest possibility of change. I can't deny that possibility, no matter how minute.
Plus, if there is something beyond this life, and if there is a heaven and hell, then one day, he will be punished, and make to look into the face of the hideous creature he created. I still maintain that hell is too good for him, but there's time left for him to suffer here too.
But again, I want no part of it. He needs to suffer as a result of his own actions, and not under the weight of my anger and hate.

Or maybe it's just me living in fear? I don't know, maybe one day I will figure it out.

The other day, I asked (in a pulse) whether people believed that "sex addiction" is real or not. I asked this because, in my personal opinion, I think it's bullshit, and I was wondering whether or not there were others who believed the same.
The reason I think it's bullshit is because I think it's more of a cop-out than anything. Again, this is just my personal opinion, so no need to get all up in arms about it.
I have to admit, I was kind of surprised when all the replies I received for of the "yes, it's a real addiction."
Maybe I am the only one who thinks it's a load of crap! But that's okay.

See, my biological father is a supposed sex addict.
He is also the most pathological liar you would ever know if you were ever unfortunate enough to meet him. He cheated on my mom multiple times, and then blamed her for it (because you know, having brain cancer that needed two operations and most of her left frontal lobe removed and therefore couldn't have sex for a long is TOTALLY HER FAULT.) She also couldn't bathe or feed herself, I had to do that for her while that fucker just went out and screwed around. When she finally caught him, he went to counseling and then came back saying, "I have an addiction!" and then proceeded to fuck people he met in his sex addiction anonymous.

Maybe sex addiction is real. But, I really do believe that for my sperm donor though, it is total bullshit. It's not like he was going out and paying for hookers (because most of them would be too fugly to make any money) he had relationships with the women he slept with. Hell, he spend more time with his slut's kids than he did with me or my sister. If I seem bitter, it's because I am.

I'm still considering writing him a letter. I haven't spoken to him in almost 3 years, not since the day he tried to break into my mom's house and "make me sorry" for the last argument we had (where I caught him in a lie that almost resulted in the death of my dog. You can beat me, but touch my animals, and I don't care how you're related to me, you're dead). There's nothing that will ever change my opinion concerning him and his "addiction." For other people who aren't vile down to their last cell though, I might make a special exception.

This is mostly a brain drain of what's been bottled up inside. Feel free to scroll on past.

Today is so incredibly beautiful outside. I wish R had the day off so we could do something together. Our schedules have been conflicting lately, so we're like ships passing in the night more often than not.
This week made me realize that even know R is perfect for me, he's not perfect. It was frustrating relief. Of course I've known this for a very long time. We've been together for over 2 years and have lived together for almost a year and a half. But I have a way of setting people on pedestals in my mind.
Take my grandpa for instance. That man is my rock, he's the only example of a fatherfigure I've ever had that didn't beat the shit out of me. I called him the other day and told him I got an 80 on my pre-calc exam and that I was pretty happy about that.
"What happened to the 95 you got on the quiz?" was his reply. In the past, this reply would have crushed me. I'm working full time and going to school almost full time, and taking care of an entire house of critters and boy. I think the fact that I'm still in school is a miracle, much less that I'm actually getting ok grades. Sure it's not the usual that I've gotten in the past but I'm in a completely different place.
But I had an epiphany in that moment when his potentially devastating reply was forming.
He's not perfect.
My Papa is the most amazing, kind, loving, funny, awesome man on this earth, and he's not always going to say the right things. He's not always going to know how his words will affect me. He's not always going to be the most amazing, kind, loving, funny, and awesome man on the planet. He's just like me. He's human.
And that was when I felt proudest of myself. That I was still happy with the accomplishments that I had made, even when my idol was not. I didn't let it crush me. I treated myself to a pack of Skittles and went on with my day.
And it's the same with R. He's not perfect. He's just like me. So when he leaves the bathroom in a horrific mess after I've spent every free second of my time the past week cleaning, reorganizing, building shelves, and buying things to make our house a home, it's ok. Sure, it's a bit disrespectful, and sure I felt unappreciated in my efforts but it's ok. I know I've done the same things, if not worse to him.

I want to write a letter to my biological father. My mom thinks it will be good for me to get my feelings for him out on paper and send it to him. He's been running his mouth lately and I just can't stand it any longer. My 3 years of silence and cutting him out of my life is just not enough. To me, he's dead. I don't think of him in terms as still being alive, or being subject to change at all (which he isn't). He's the most sick and twisted person I've ever met. He is so deluded in his lies that even HE doesn't know that he isn't telling the truth when he flat out lies to your face. I feel sorry for him in a way. He will never be able to accept reality.
He will never be able to accept that
He's a liar
He's an adulterer
He's an abuser of small children and women
He enslaved us
He's a rapist
He's hated by his children

I can go on but I feel a panic attack rising so I'm just going to quit right there. I don't know if writing how I feel and what I think about him will help. It won't change anything, he'll still be the most evil man I've ever known, and he'll still go on thinking God loves him. If there is a God he wouldn't love him. I hope that there is, and I hope that when he dies God turns his back on him. I hope God tells him to go fuck himself like I did. Right now, in my own vileness, the only thing I want is to see my biological father crushed by the reality that he's denied for so long. I want to see realization dawn on his face as he collapses from the weight of it all. I want to see him implode. He's a waste of cells. He deserves so much worse than even hell could give him.

And I loved him so much that I have to tell him how much I hate him now.

If I could remove his part of the DNA in me I would. I'm saddened by the fact that R and I's children will still have some traces of my father in them. My children might carry traces of him, but they will never know his name. That's the life I should have had, and that's the life I will give them.

Yesterday, I took two of my critters to class. I'm taking a zoology class to fill out my last science credit requirement and my professor allowed me to bring them to class and let everyone gush about how cute they are.

Here are a couple of pictures one of my classmates took

It took me a minute to squish Sherlock just right so he would hold still for a second. Silly possum.

River enjoyed being passed around the class like a football. She got to be held and petted by just about everyone. Except for the fact that she bit the girl who has cerebral palsy. I was so embarrassed. That's the first time she has bitten anybody.

At the end of the day, me, R, and two people from my Mythology class were sitting in the foyer of the school just playing with them and 2 guys came up and asked what we were doing and were quite amused by River. As they were leaving one of them said, "Oh my god, I feel so gay; that hedgehog is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life."
We were all amused as they left still laughing.

And now spring is officially broke

So, this semester I took Zoology to fill the last of my required science credits. This is the very first time that I've been learning anything about evolution. Since I was raised in a very strict religious home, and homeschooled, I've never learned the first thing about evolution. I find it to be fascinating, and I can't believe that I haven't ever learned anything about this before, regardless of how it fit into the religion I was raised in.
I was talking to R about how much I've been learning and how it just blows my mind in so many ways. He went to a few private schools which were run by churches until going to governor's school in highschool. He's heard it all from the Bible creation story to the Big Bang. We're both sort of agnostic right now, but I think that R made an incredibly good point last night that really sent my tiny brain spinning.

"Why would the existence of a higher power negate the theory of evolution? If there is someone who is all knowing, all powerful, and infinite in being, then why couldn't he just go, 'Well I'm just going to set this stuff in motion aaannnnddd' BANG."

I never had thought of it that way before. I know the Bible says that the Earth was created in 7 days, but... I mean come on, so much of the Bible is allegorical and stuff. Personally, I don't take everything the Bible says as absolute fact. It's been changed too much over time, different people have added and taken away parts of the Bible that they don't agree with, and the fact that it's been translated a million times, and so much can get lost in translation (ex. Moses being depicted with horns on his head because of a mistranslation and it was thought that he really had horns on his head.).

... And to think, I was so elated with the perspective of taking the name of a man who once looked in my face with brightest of blue eyes and said, "I'm don't love you anymore, but I know I'm not going to be able to find anyone better."

...And to think for a time I would've left the man with eyes like the stormy sea who woke me up with soft kisses just to tell me he loves me in a heartbeat.

If only he would've asked