Cancer

I know I haven't posted in a long time, but this is something I've been working on for awhile. It feels strange that it's finished and I really don't know why I'm sharing it, but none the less I am. Be prepared, it's long.

Cancer
You know the interesting thing about having cancer? You have PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), you become basically magnetic, you learn to see things differently, and of course you have to live with it for the rest of your life. Obviously cancer is complicated, if you’ve experienced it you know firsthand, and if you know someone going through it you see how the complications affect us which affects you emotionally. I’ve seen how knowing someone with cancer affects people, does that mean when someone comes up to me and says they understand how hard it is that I actually believe them? If they’ve had cancer or are going through it themselves, then yeah I do and I will swap stories with them and give advice where I think it is needed. When they haven’t, but they know someone who has I sort of understand where they are coming from but I’m still pretty skeptical. How does someone who has never been through something like cancer tells me they understand how it is to go through it? They can say they understand how hard it seems or that they hope my family and friends are holding up, because they’ve been in that situation. Now when someone who has never had cancer comes up to me and tells me they understand how hard it was I start to get a little peeved on the inside, especially when they start to compare something that is nowhere near the same. Look, don’t get me wrong I always appreciate the gesture no matter how much I don’t want to talk about it. Now there is that group of individuals who say they understand being a child going through horrible diseases, major life changing surgeries, and other things similar to those. Those people I really do not like talking to. It is not at all because I don’t appreciate what they are trying to do or that they really can relate. It is the fact that they had that horrible disease or major surgery. I hate hearing about children going through awful things. It makes me so unbearably sick to my stomach, anxious and just makes me want to cry. It brings back so many memories, ones that I normally don’t want to think about.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
I’m sure you’re wondering what I mean by you experience PTSD, or maybe you have a bit of an idea. Not only do you experience flashbacks, you also wake up with nightmares about being in the hospital, and well you’re just straight up traumatized. Obviously most PTSD is associated with war veterans which makes very much sense. Of course there are also people who get it from disasters, assaults and even accidents. So, it is not completely impossible for someone who went through something like cancer to get it.
Let’s start with the flashbacks. I asked someone when they heard flashbacks, what they thought of. They told me what they thought of was those weird dream like sequences that are in movies or television shows. Well that just surprised me; here I thought they would have said something about war veterans. Anyways, when I hear flashbacks I see different crappy things I’ve gone through, most of the time I go back to when I was in the hospital.
Example: I remember being jostled awake as I was transferred to a gurney. I was searching around in a panic looking for one of my parents. No one was there and I was six and I was terrified. I had no idea what was going on. A nurse was holding pressure on my chest which made it hard to breathe sometimes. We came flying out of my dark room into the extremely bright hallway lights. Nurses were yelling for people to get out of the way. A doctor pushed through the nurses, finally someone I recognized. He gave me a smile, “Are you ok?” I could feel my eyes tearing up. I knew I was going to cry. What was going on! “It’s ok,” he said. He looked at one of the nurses. “Where’s her parents.” “Her father should be here soon, it’s about the time he normally comes in.” My dad, where is my dad. I want my dad! I started crying. I fell apart, who could blame me. I was a six year old who had been torn from her bed while she was asleep. “Aww. Sweety. It’s ok. Everything is going to be ok.” I just cried harder. “We have to get her to calm down; she’s going to make it worse.” We turned another corner and there he was running towards me in his work suit. “Daddy!” I lost it. As soon as I saw him I lost it. He grabbed my hand and I knew everything would be ok. I have no idea what he was talking to the nurses and doctor about. I couldn’t hear them over my crying and holding onto his hand so tight.
That was one of the scariest things that I can remember from having cancer. I was six and I was terrified. I relied on my parents to be there for me, and I felt special because I had my parents. Not all of the kids at the hospital did. Not all of my flash backs were like that. I have a few that aren’t as scary. There is one that I still have from when I had to get a spinal tap. The funny thing about it is that I’m not supposed to remember it. Even now when I see my doctors they are astonished that I did. I remember my laying on the table curled up in the fetal position. My mom was in front of me and I was telling her that it hurt. I kept telling her I didn’t want to be there, I wanted to go back to my room. I remember the doctor telling me to curl up more and to hold it. Then it really started to hurt. I started to cry a little and my mom was trying to distract me. She was asking me about what type of posters I wanted to hang up in my room with different family members on it and what I wanted it to say under each picture. I remember how much it hurt in a very strange way and my mom repeating questions over and over to me to distract me. After all of that, I remember waking up in my room in my hospital bed.
It’s interesting what you remember after big things happen to you. It seems that many of my flash back cancer memories were sad. However, they all weren’t. I remember running around my hospital room with my little brother while eating McDonalds. I do have a very good memory though. It makes me cry sometimes, but in a good way. It was probably one of the happiest days I had while I was in the hospital.
My older brother is extremely important to me. I don’t know why, because I love all of my siblings very much. When I used to hear that my older brother and sister might be coming to see me in the hospital I was so excited. I would ask the nurses if I could have the Sega Castle (a Sega consol in a plastic castle that was mobile with a TV). I would bounce on my bed in a seated position waiting for them to walk through the door, but he wasn’t there. That happened many times and every time I would be disappointed and hurt. So, I stopped asking for it. What was the point of trying to get something to entertain my brother if he wasn’t going to be there? One Saturday, I was sitting on my bed watching the television and my mom came in with my little brother and my sister. A couple minutes after they had walked in, my brother came through the door. I almost jumped off the bed and ran to him. I was so excited to see him. My dad had to grab me so I wouldn’t rip my central line out. He was very cautious when he came towards me. When he finally hugged me, I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed as hard as I could. The harder I squeezed him the more firm of a huge he gave me trying not to bruise me (having a low white blood cell count made me bruise easily). I remember freaking out about trying to get the Sega castle so we could play it. We didn’t get it, but we had a lot of fun coloring, talking and playing board games we got from the play area. I was extremely happy that day.
Nightmares, that’s another thing that comes with PTSD. Oh the nightmares. I remember waking up sweating and in a panic. Not only would this happen while I was in the hospital, but also when I was finally home again. The nightmares I had where normally my first flashback. I did have other ones though. Every time my older sister was over she would hear me wake up at night and sometimes she would go and get our mom or my dad (we had the same mom different dad). Some of my dreams that involved the hospital were quite traumatic.
Example: It was very dark and I could hear the beep of my IV (Intravenous). I opened my eyes to an almost invisible room because of the curtains being closed, except for a sliver of light streaming through them. All of a sudden my chest started to hurt as if someone was sitting on my chest. I knew my dad was not far sleeping because of the curtains still being closed. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. The pressure was getting heavier and heavier, I couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t anyone hear me? Even though I couldn’t scream I had to have been making noises. The pain made me try and curl into a little ball but I was strapped to the bed. I laid back flat and mustered the last bit of breath I could get. I put all of it into a scream. At first nothing came out and finally I started to scream.
My scream in that dream actually was what pulled me out of the dream. You know how TV shows have people who wake up from dreams screaming and in a sweat? Well that was basically my dream, and it wasn’t like I thought I had screamed. I really had. I woke my sister up and freaked her out. That’s the bad thing about sharing rooms with your siblings, when your little sister wakes up screaming from a nightmare you get woken up by her scream too. Many people had to deal with my nightmares, but it made me feel better when my roommate would wake up from them too.
The thing about nightmares is that many people have them. It’s not like there is just a small amount of people who have them. I still have nightmares, just when I was little I would have a lot of reoccurring ones. Many of the ones I would have involved my parents being eaten murdered or kidnapped. I would wake up many times crying and wanting my mom. Who can really blame me though? Those were horrible dreams. It was even worse when my parents didn’t hear my screaming for them, so I would actually think something did happen to them and like most little kids I would come flying down the stairs into their room. I was going through or had just survived a very serious disease that was almost a slim to none type of cancer for someone my age to have.
I used to have one dream that started while I was in the hospital and that I kept having until I was about ten years old. My family (my mom, my dad, my brothers, my sister, and I) and my aunts family (my aunt, my uncle, my two guy cousins, and my girl cousin) were walking across a railroad track that was above a cove. The train started coming towards us and all of the adults in our group told us to jump, so we did. When we hit the water the whole situation became extremely crazy. My mom and dad were yelling at my older brother and sister to get my younger brother and me out of the water as fast as possible. My aunt and uncle were yelling something similar at their children. We started swimming as fast as we could towards shore. All I could here was them yelling and the water rushing past me started to drown them out. When we got to shore I looked back at the water and all I saw was water that was slightly tinged red. Where were my mom and dad? How come they hadn’t fallowed us? Before I could ask anything I was being dragged up towards this very strange puzzle like house. It had a small curved suspended walkway that looked over a waterfall. We went into the house and there was no one inside. My older brother thought this would be a good place to stay for now. We ended up being there for weeks. One day my brother tripped and fell down the stairs. When he hit the bottom of them he would start at the top and fall down them again. He never stopped. One of my guy cousins walked into a room and disappeared. The other one tripped and fell through the floor. I never saw them again. My sister walked on the walkway that looked over the waterfall. The water looked as if it never stopped, so she leaned forward to see if it ever did. She slipped and fell with the waterfall forever. There wasn’t a bottom. My female cousin just disappeared one day. I have no idea where she went. My little brother was the only person who was with me after that. We ended up finding out that my parents had been killed by something in the water. Apparently my brother had been making what he called a Captains Log. It told us everything. The dream ended with my brother and I holding the log curled up in a little ball in the corner of the room we had found it in, crying.
The very last time I had that dream it changed for the first time in four years. There was a knock at the door. A UPS person was delivering a package to us and the delivery person ended up being my mom. She took us home. It was interesting how the further away I got from having cancer the more my dreams changed. All of my dreams I had when I had cancer and the dreams I had after I had it were normally nightmares. It makes sense though if you think about it, a child having nightmares while dealing with a traumatic disease/event.
Oh the trauma that comes along with cancer. It’s there, it really is. Needles. For me needles are a great example. I had so many needles when I had cancer that I hate them. I hate looking at them, I hate seeing them, and I hate being stuck by them. Well the last thing many people don’t like. Hospitals make me very nervous. They make me panicky and I always think the worst when it comes to anything that has to do with them. There’s also that panic in the back of your head that it will come back. No matter how many times you’re told it won’t and that if it was going to it would have comeback within a year. Every time I go to the hospital, especially with abdominal pain it is the first thing that pops into my head. Cancer. What if it’s cancer again? No matter how many times I’m told it’s not possible, the thought is still burned into my brain. The other thing that really bothers me probably more than anything because of what I went through is hearing about children that are going through diseases, and any other horrible things. Like I said before they make me so unbearably sick to my stomach, anxious and just makes me want to cry. It’s not that I don’t feel for them or understand what some of them are going through. It just brings up my PTSD so to say. Why do people want to watch shows about horrible things that are happening to children anyways? It’s like watching someone die in front of you and going “Awww wow that’s so sad. Oh this is getting boring,” changes channel, “There we go. I’ll go back to that in a few minutes. This looks interesting.” How horrible is that. I don’t want to watch more children slowly die. I already saw children doing that, and some of them were my friends. Having one of your good friends die is indescribable. The whole time I see those videos, shows, and hear those stories it just makes me wonder why me. Why am I the little kid that made it through everything? I had everything working against me and somehow I’m the kid that managed to live. What made me so special that I was allowed to live and not one of my friends. It is one of the most horrible feelings that I have ever experienced. Almost every day, especially days where I have to have another surgery, still recovering, or I’m ill, I wonder why I’m alive. Why didn’t I die? It never helps when people say I bring them all of this hope for their lives. Hopefully one day I’ll figure it out and maybe then I won’t be traumatized when I see children who are going through diseases, and who are going through other horrible things.

I’m Magnetic
No it’s not a super power

I have met so many people who have or had cancer that sometimes I think I have a sign on me that says, “Hey! Over here! Talk to me if you’ve had cancer!” Ok, don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind talking to people who are going or had gone through cancer. It’s just when I get 10 people in one day that I start thinking about how to burn the sign I might have on me somewhere. I don’t just get those people; I also get the cancer haters. Those are an interesting group of people.
I want to start with people who are going through cancer or had it. One of the things I always seem to get when I’m talking to people going through cancer is that I’m a miracle to them. I get it almost every time and every time I wonder how in the world do they think I’m a miracle. I mean yeah, I did survive it and at a young age but I guess because of those factors that having cancer just doesn’t seem like a big deal. I’ve been asked quite a lot how do I have all of these conversations? Do I really meet that many people who have had cancer? Well yeah, actually I do. I have probably met most of them while working at my guest relations job, where people come in for services such as massages, facials, hair services, and nail services.
I started having people tell me they were going through cancer during the breast cancer awareness month we were having at work. It started with this lady; she was the nicest lady I had met all day. She and her friend were coming in for a massage and a facial, and since she was currently going through treatment she was not allowed to have a massage, so her and her friend had to switch services. Well while I was taking her and her friend back they were sort of ranting about how they couldn’t have the services they had been planning on. I piped in and explained to the lady how it would be a bad idea not only because it was easier for her to bruise since her white blood count was lower than a normal person and because she wouldn’t want toxins being released from her glands with everything else going on. She just sort of looked at me for a few minutes and then said, “How in the world did you know that?” I smiled and told her about how I had had cancer when I was six. She got the biggest smile on her face and gave me a huge hug. She told me I gave her hope and about how scared she was. I told her everything was going to be ok. I told her if I could do it, she could do it too. She asked me what I had and I told her and about how I had done research on it and how it had said that someone my age shouldn’t have been able to have that cancer. She kept asking more about my cancer and what had happened. She started telling me about her breast cancer and everything that she was going through. I was able to relate to her and she told me that she was so happy to have someone she could talk to that understood how she felt. I had to say that it was a really good feeling talking to someone about it that understood and that I was able to make someone going through cancer feel better.
After awhile though, you kind of get sick of that magnetic pull. You really just don’t want to talk about it anymore. People start to see you as something you think you’re not. I’ve had people dislike me because I’ve had it and I’ve had people think I was some amazing person to make it through cancer. I was six years old; it is a part of me that is so far away at this point I don’t see why it has such an impact on people now. It’s not like I had a play book on how to get through it, I just sort of did.

Open Your Eyes
And Take a Look Around

One thing that cancer did give me was the ability to see things a little differently. There was a period in my life where everything to me was negative, but then that changed. Now I have a tendency to see the silver lining. Now, I’m not saying always because that would just be a straight out lie. I don’t know anyone who is able to see the bright side all the time.
It’s interesting though how I worry so much. I actually found out from the hospital I was treated at that excessive worrying is very normal for child cancer patients and survivors. It has to do with how much we care about everything. Everything is important even the little things. Sometimes it might not show how upset we are, it’s pretty normal for us to be emotional about things. A good example of this was a guy I met at camp on year. This was a camp for children with cancer. He came across like the big guy on campus. Everyone loved and hated him. He had a very crude sense of humor. Anything he could make sexual, he did. Well I was sitting on a very large rock with him and another girl watching the soccer game. They were bickering like no bodies business. I eventually got fed up and told them they argued like an old married couple. If they had dishes, I could have seen them throwing them around like in a cartoon. They both looked at me absolutely baffled until the girl looked at me and asked how I knew they had dated. I honestly didn’t know they had been dating, but I picked up on a vibe. I shrugged and said it was the way they interacted that gave it away. Well later on when everyone was hanging out, he stopped me on my way back from the bathroom. He completely fell apart on me and told me the whole story about him and that girl. When I asked him why he wanted to talk to me about this, he said that he just got a feeling like I could help. I laughed and then told him to keep talking. At the end of the conversation he hugged me and told me thank you. On our way back to meet up with everyone else I asked him why he put up such a front to everyone, his response hurt my heart. He said he worried about his father thinking her was weak, so he acted like he was to good for everything that way no one would know who he really was.
The interesting thing about that moment was it showed how emotional we both are and also how worrisome we are. He told me later that he had a little brother that had never been sick his whole life, so he was tough in a different way. It was a type of tough his father was proud of. I understand that feeling because I was the only one of four kids that had anything really medically wrong with them. Even to this day I’m having some issues. I always, even now, worry that if I wasn’t so sick all the time that my family would be more financially stable. I also have a tendency to pick up on other people’s feelings. If something happens to someone in my family or someone I love, I feel horrible for them. It’s something that I’ve gotten better about, but it’s still a problem. I asked someone who had experienced cancer at a young age if they had experienced that as well. She told me she had and anyone else she knew who had cancer at a young age experienced that as well.
Since we have a tendency to feel for other people, there tends to be two or more sides to everything. Obviously there are always many sides to things like issues, but not everyone sees them. That isn’t just when helping someone out or being pulled into an argument; it is also in school as well. I know personally, that anytime I had to write a paper that told me to pick a side to an argument I had a horrible time with it. I could always see both sides to the argument. Then when I had to write papers about why a character was viewed as a villain, I always saw how it wasn’t their entire fault or that they really were a good person. I’m not positive if other people who experienced cancer go through this as well, but I know I definitely do.
I have noticed that quite a lot of people who have gone through something medically challenging are understanding. Now I’m not saying everyone is, but a majority of them are. They feel for you. The thing about working a customer service job when you care is it takes a toll on you. You feel for everyone and genuinely care and want to help them. I can honestly say that if I hadn’t gone through some of the things I had, like cancer, I don’t think I would be the way I am now. I also think I wouldn’t have made it as far as I have because of it as well. Many people don’t realize that they see the world a little different, but I’ve found if you’re the one causing controversy because you’re agreeing with both sides you’re probably seeing more of the picture.

Deal With It
It’s Yours Forever

The thing about life is once something happens you’re stuck with it forever. There are no ifs, ands, or buts. It is yours no matter what. Cancer will forever be a part of me, no matter how sick of it I get sometimes. That has to be one of the hardest things about it. No matter how much I want people to see past it and even the other things I’ve been through; I’m still labeled by them. It seems inevitable at times. If you tell someone not to long after you’ve met that you’ve had cancer or they found about it, they have a tendency to think of you differently. Now, if you don’t tell that person about having cancer they have a tendency to get very upset about it. I’ve actually had someone lose respect for me because I didn’t think it was that important. There is no easy way to tell someone you had cancer, or about anything else that has happened to you. You really shouldn’t be labeled by something, it’s not fair. It’s not like I asked to have cancer. At the very least, I should be able to move away from it to the point where it’s not necessarily relevant anymore. Sure some people have to know because I have yearly checkups, but that should really be as far as it goes unless it’s medically relevant.
Besides having people judging, no matter how annoying it is, there are other things that are affected by cancer. A big one for females is not being able to have children. Chemotherapy, meaning chemical therapy, kills off things in your body. Now if you add radiation, which is when they actually put radioactive atoms into your body, it becomes even harder for women to have children. The horrible thing about this though, is that when you get to that point where you want to have children, you don’t know if it’s possible. Girls are born, actually once the ovaries are formed, with so many eggs and as you age they slowly deplete. When they are completely gone, menopause normally takes over. However, that doesn’t always happen. Then cancer, because of treatment, takes away some of those eggs if not all of them. Then let’s say you are able to get pregnant, there are other problems connected to the pregnancy because of cancer. Even for men it stays with them. Infertility happens to them too, but they don’t run out of sperm. Their body will always produce it, just it will create blanks. Then there is a possibility that the chemotherapy and/or radiation will cause other medical problems. Then of course having cancer once raises the chance of you getting skin or breast cancer, yes guys can get breast cancer too. It will forever follow in your shadow, even if you can’t really see it anymore. It still somehow finds a way to wriggle itself back into view. On the upside though, it does create fantastic scholarship opportunities if you are a student.

I am not upset, anymore, that I had cancer and I have come to terms that it will forever be with me. It can be extremely hard at times, but I know I’m not alone. There are people that seek me out for help or just stumble upon me and I’m glad that I’m able to help them in some way. Life is hard and things like cancer make it harder, but if I had a chance to erase it from my life I wouldn’t. Sure it was a horrible thing that I will never forget, but it gave me amazing opportunities and I got to meet the most amazing people. The camp that I got to experience because of it was the most amazing place and I am always so excited to go back and experience even just little parts of it. People would be amazed if they knew what that camp did for children with cancer. I was also given the opportunity to take my family to Disney World, which I don’t know if that would have ever happened if I hadn’t had cancer. Sure there are so many bad memories associated with cancer, but there are also some of the most amazing ones too. There are things that I will never forget my mom and dad doing for me. They strung themselves out so far for me during that time, that when I look back at it I am still amazed. I don’t know how they both did it with jobs and my mom taking care of my other siblings. My father lived with me and had to deal with so many of the things that I had to as well. I will forever remember everything about having cancer.
There are more forms of cancer than people realize. I am sick of hearing about only certain one’s getting financial help to find the cure. What about all the other ones? They are just as important. Just because we, other cancer survivors and sufferers, didn’t have breast cancer doesn’t mean we aren’t just as important. Don’t forget, judge, or discriminate against people who have had, suffered or died from cancer. We’re just like everyone else. You wouldn’t hate someone for having blond hair would you? It’s just another thing that makes us all different and special. Everyone’s life and strife is important. Don’t forget that.

Where Has It All Gone

Time,
Tick, Tick, Tick,
It’s everywhere,
Taunting me,
It screams at me,
“You’re running out of time,”
After only 20 years of life,
I’m running out to time,
Cancer,
Chemotherapy,
Surgery upon surgery,
Eggs dying,
My dreams with them,
Find a perfect love,
Procreate,
I’m running out of time,
I might not even be able to,
Distress,
Anxiety,
My life in the balance,
Tick,
Tick,
Tick,
Time,
Gone.

A Quick Review

I haven't updated for awhile, but that's besides the point. I would like to bring up a few things, like the Nissan Leaf. It's interesting. I read a bit about it and it is an electric car. Mind you I haven't heard about any bugs yet, but it isn't for sale yet either. I just really like it because of the polar bear commercial. Now, for why I haven't been updating. I have been writing my story that I came up with when I was 10. It has morphed since then, but the same basic idea still applies. I am sad to see that it has lost popularity after chapter 2 by about 75%. I can't figure out why, and no one will give me any feed back as to what is wrong with it. I love good feedback, but bad feedback is more helpful. At least then I know what to fix. If you want to read it, hit me up. I'm more than happy to send it your way. :)

Word Usage

It's interesting how people use words. Like names, how people refer to someone else. My mom today asked me if I call her mom or mommy. Mind you this was during a story I was telling her so it caught me off guard. Anyways, I told her mom and then I corrected myself and said I call her mum. Then she said what do you call your father and I was like Daddy, or sometimes Dad. Normally it's daddy though. She was said that was interesting. I responded with a why? She said well you call me Mum and your father Daddy. It just shows the little girl in you and how much you love him and miss him. I found that interesting.
I guess it is true though, my dad will always be my daddy. I always refer to him as that, even when I'm on the phone talking to him. I say things like "Daddy?" or "I love you daddy." I do love him though like I was a little girl. I miss him, my dad that was mine when I was little. Everything changed around the age of thirteen and I felt like I lost him. A great example of this is in an earlier post. Anyways, I found him again recently and I love that. He's my daddy. I hope he always will be and it doesn't bother me that I act like a little girl or that my little girl comes through. He's my dad and I love him.

Animal Abuse

I have heard about animal abuse and I have seen the after affects. I have seen the commercials and the TV shows where people are saving those animals. I have never ever seen someone light a live kitten on fire, video it and watch it burn to death. Why would someone ever do that! To any animal! I was completely astonished, pissed off and disgusted all at once when I saw the images. I can't even mentally come up with anything else to say about this I am so baffled, angry and disgusted. I actually wish someone would do that to her. Light her on fire and make her run around screaming. However, that wouldn't solve anything and that would be wrong. I would never really wish that on someone no matter how appealing it may seem in my brain at the time of the thought.

Intro To Massage: The Saga Begins

Tonight is my first day of massage class, which also means that first day of working on one of my degrees. If all goes as planned, I will have an associates in an Associates in Applied Science which would also make me a Certified Massage Therapists by the end of summer. I have to say I am rather excited about that. It not only means I will actually have at least one degree from years in school, but that one will be done before I even start nursing. Unfortunately, that dream is a little fuzzy right now because only so many people can make it into the program at AACC. However, that does not mean that I can't get it else where. I would just prefer to get it there and then go get my RN Midwife certificate. I am nervous, but I'm very excited as well. I think I would feel better about tonight if I wasn't sick. I just feel horrible about possibly having to massage someone if I am sneezing and coughing. Not only does that sound gross, but I really don't want to make anyone sick. That's just rude. Well, I'll keep you posted. Wish me luck!

Screw You World

Ok, so I'm a little pissed off right now. I am not mad at the whole world, because that would just be stupid. I am annoyed with certain people. If I'm helping you out, don't be an ass. I can say screw you and leave anytime I want. As some of you and your stupid comments about my tattoo, don't freaking ASSUME! Just ask. I don't care if you ask, but don't be a jerk. Would you like it if I looked at your crap and said you look like a freaking idiot with that shirt or your dumb kid show tattoo. That would just be mean. Please just ask nicely or use constructive criticism. Just please be nice.

Checking In

This past week was the first week of school. I'm actually really excited about it. My classes are most likely going to be very hard, but I'm looking forward to them. The crap thing about school starting is that there are so many people on campus it's not even funny. There aren't anywhere near enough spots to park, especially for anyone handicapped or injured. I have the pass to help me get to my classes without being in a lot of pain, but it doesn't matter. I still have to park all the way out in nowhere. It's quite a hike, but I try to make the best of it.
I got a new tattoo Friday. This one's different. Not only is it done by another artist, but it has quite a lot of heritage to it. I am very fond of it. I felt quite compelled to get this one and I'm glad i did. It means a lot to me.
I know that I haven't written in a week, so this is just a quick check in. I will elaborate more on other stuff late. :)

Wha'd Up Writing

These past few weeks, I have been drawn to writing. I know i have mentioned this before, but today I have officially written my first 4K chapter for my, possible, book. I am very excited about this even if there will most likely be chapters with many more words to them. I'm just excited that this is the first one. For some reason, i hadn't been able to go over 2K. Now I have. Wha'd up!

The Original Native

I find it interesting what things I am drawn to so powerfully. A fantastic example would be Native Americans. My problem with that term though, is they are just Natives. There are the only Natives. There have been certain things bringing me back to the Native culture. In school when we learned about the Trail of Tears and the other horrible things that were done to the Natives, I would become very emotional about it. It was almost like reliving things that I had already experienced in my life. The only thing is, there is no way I was alive then. Well unless Karma and reincarnation come into play. I found out a few years ago that I actually have a line of Native in my blood. On my mom’s side, we are part Mohican. The only sad thing is that we are such a very small part Mohican. I would love to have much more Native blood in me. I have not only found Native men very attractive, but I will admit a few times I have thought about leaving everything to find one. Though obviously that plan is very flawed and, what I have been told in my Ego, kicks in. Besides the obvious that Natives of amazing looking, both the male and female, I would love to learn about their culture. I don’t mean that in an anthropological way. I mean that in a I have thought about being a part of their beliefs. I would love to experience the amazing things they did and most likely still do. My whole life I have had a Dream Catcher. I am particularly attached to them. I sleep with one close to my head ever night and the nights I don’t, I experience many night mares. There are times that I wonder if the Dream Catcher is why I have the amount of dream I do and if that is the case, the amount and the ability to remember them so well. Life I have mentioned before, dreams seem to flock to me. I don’t mind though, I love my dreams. Both the good and the bad ones seem to have some type of amazing meaning to them. It is interesting how some of the ones I had when I was younger worked out in reality. Not the nightmares, but the strange ones, especially the reoccurring ones. I now see how the dream of all of the children being stranded in a strange home happened. I can see how all those parts of the dream that seemed so trivial but vibrant were almost like messages.
Things that are extremely important to me, I make a part of me. Though I have not made any of my family members this way or my love, things that impact me so significantly that they change me I like to visualize. I like to see a reminder of what I have become and to see the amazing story that goes behind it. At the moment, I do that as tattoos. Some people thing it is weird that I have such diverse tattoos, especially since I am 20 years old. I have heard people tell me that I will regret them and want them removed later. To me though, I do not understand that. Why would I remove something from me that changed my being? Why would I want to forget something that impacted me so significantly? Sure, sometimes those impacts were bad at them time, but in reality they created something good. I love my tattoos and I never plan to remove them and I stand by that no matter how many times I’ve been told to never say never. I do not want to forget me and they represent me. I have been asked why would I put it on me permanently. Why not get some type of artwork that I can hang? Well, I love art and tattoos are art that you wear. Besides that, art can fade and be destroyed in fires or disasters. Sure tattoos can as well, but they cannot be lost and if they fade they can be revived without compromising the original. It also permanently becomes a part of you, just like my experiences. I love who I am, even on the days when it seems like I don’t, and by wearing these important symbols I get confidence and show the world who I am. Look, I am not saying tattoos are for everyone or that some people do not make silly decisions when getting them, especially at a young age. I think there is always an exception to that rule.
This Friday August 27th, I will be getting a Tattoo of a dream catcher with a Celtic knot making up part of the webbing. An artist I have never met before, but whom I was drawn to instantly, will be creating it for me. He will make me an amazingly unique piece that will also have the artist’s signature. I do not mean that literally, I mean that his style will be shown in his work. I am going to see an artist and it is unfair to ask an artist to compromise themselves to please someone else, just like it is wrong to ask a person to compromise themselves to be with or around others. I am both excited and nervous. I will have seven colored beads on it. Each one represents an important part of Native culture, each of which I believe in completely. I was aware that the beads had meaning, but I was not aware what exactly they were. I searched and came across quite a lot of useless information. Right when I was about to give up, I came across “Dancing To Eagle Spirit Society.” They had everything I wanted to know about Natives. Well not everything, but quite a good chunk of it. I was so moved by the information and the amazing pull of this society that I even thought about joining it. However, I do not know if I fit the profile, though I am very compelled by the way of the two-spirited people. If you get a chance to read about them, please do. It is amazing. This society was actually how I remembered and was given more information about the story behind the Dream Catcher.
On a side note, I am hoping that a lovely lady name Joy will be able to help me find my way. I actually hope that my way will have a tie to Native culture. I have to admit, when I found out that my mother’s spirit guide was a Native I was very jealous. That is ok though; she is also pulled into their culture and deserves an amazing guide like a Native. Well, that is my main thoughts for today. Well yesterday, since it is now after midnight. If you have any comments, I would love to hear them and I would also like to say thank you for reading.
This is the “Dancing To Eagle Spirit Society” website. It is amazing, please check it out. ---> http://www.dancingtoeaglespiritsociety.org/index.php

Stalked By Butterflies

Yesterday I found myself be stalked by butterflies. It was rather strange. One was a black, orange and yellow one that followed me on my mile walk. I have absolutely no problem with butterflies on them following me, it was just weird. All the butterfly did was cruise around with me very similar to what Maggie would do when we would take the exact same walk. The other butterflies were at Garrett’s house when I went to feed the cats with Tyler. They came down and met us at the bottom of the driveway and followed us to the house. Then when we left, they were still outside and followed us back down to the street. I don’t know where they keep coming from and why they are following me, but it’s kind of cool. It makes me feel special. Before Maggie passed away, a black one kept following me around. When I looked it up, it said it represented death. I even check it in other culture beliefs and it all came out the same. In light of what I found out about Maggie after being stalked by black butterflies for days, I looked up this particular type of butterfly. I didn’t find anything really specific, except that they are lucky. After search for awhile, I came across a Native American entry that said that when a butterfly follows you like that (especially if it is similar to someone you known’s behavior) it is a loved one following you around. It came be because they miss you, they worry about you, or they can sense you need them again. It was really interesting and it hit home really hard. I have always loved Native American culture. It is so amazingly spiritual. They don’t waist anything and they respect the earth for what she has given them. Reading about it made me miss the culture and also remind me about how I dislike certain parts of Wicca. If there was a religion that was like the Native American religion, included the three fold and pay respects to the god and goddess, as well as Yin and Yang I would be part of it. The interesting this about different beliefs is that they belong to different cultures. If you are mixed culture, why not embrace mixed beliefs? I don’t mean that as a confusion type way, I mean that as taking parts to create a new whole. I know it probably doesn’t make much sense, the connection of butterflies to beliefs/religion, but to me it does. I like the idea that there is a giant mix of energy that surrounds the earth like an atmosphere. Just like I believe balance is important and so is the threefold or Karma.
Anyways, back to the butterflies. The butterfly that followed me around made me think of Maggie and how she was taking her walk with me like we always used to do. Sometimes I would go for a walk because I needed to burn energy and she would come with me. She would trot right along side of me and smell everything she could. After surgery, we would go for slow walks because neither of us could really handle anything fast. We would hobble along and cheer each other on at the end. Sometimes we would look at each other, sigh and then look forward. We looked absolutely pathetic sometimes. It was funny. We were like two pees in a pod. Yesterday was my first walk since she passed and I think she might have been there with me making sure I was alright. Who knows, but I like to think she’s with me.

Bustin Out the Books

The school year starts next week and I am both looking forward and dreading it. I’m hoping that taking two science classes at once isn’t going to be suicide, especially with a psychology class on top of that. I’m not saying I won’t figure out a way to make it work, just that I hate all the serious mongo stress that makes you have melt downs. Plus, the fact that I’m still on pain meds and in pain makes me a little leery. I think I would feel more confident if those two factors were gone. I know I pulled off taking a full class lode on even more pain medication, but I also got my first D ever. I cried a lot when that happened. Luckily I am still in Phi Theta Kappa, now all I have to do is stay in it. I have the up most confidence that I will. Now all I want is for my toe to be fantastic by the time school starts, because I can deal with my ankle, and to be able to memorize conversions for both of my biology classes. Oh conversions, how I despise you.

Cymbalta is EVIL

I have been on Cymbalta for awhile now and decided to stop taking it cold turkey. Now I am going through the most annoying withdrawals ever. Basically that's it. Just wanted to vent a little.

The Woes of Writing

                Writing. I like it and hate it all at the same time. I have recently started writing more than the strange thoughts that pop up in my head, such as the book I had been writing for years now. I have been putting it up on a site for original works to get feedback on it and I think I have officially hit the wall on people who are interesting. It seems that even though I have added four new chapter’s in the past two days, I have only have four visitors and none of them have left comments. Also, none of them have read the actual new chapters. It makes me wonder, what is wrong with book type thing? Is it the basic idea behind it? Is it the main character? Is it the writing itself? No one is really giving me anything to work with and the person who used to before I didn’t update for months, has not said anything. I wish I knew what the problem was. Everyone at home I’ve read it to says they like it even when I ask for honest honest answers. I find this very unhelpful. What to do, what to do …

Side Note

Side note for the day. Garrett and I were having a debate about Star Wars and how Anakin and Obi won's hair at the end of Episode one looks. I said they both had raqt tails and he said they didn't, but then he admitted that he didn't know what a rat tail was. I googled it and this is what I got. We laughed for a good 5 minutes. Classic.

D is for Darth Maul

Star Wars, what a fantastic thing. I would never read it as a book, but as movies I enjoy it. I wonder if it’s called a trilogy squared because they take place in two points in time or if it’s like a sexogy or sextuple. Hmmm, the epic questions that need to be answered. Anyways, today I have been watching Garrett play Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga and we ended up discussing Darth Maul and the spelling of his name. Garrett made the comment that it sounded like it was Darth Mall and I laughed and said it did sound like that. That then created a mental image in my head of Darth Maul walking through the mall like a teenage girl with arms full of bags. Ultimately that created a laughing fit between the two of us, with me wishing that I could draw well enough to create an image of that scene. Oh the little joys of life and well of course Darth Maul shopping at the mall.

The Big Toe Incident

Ah, the big toe incident. On Friday I was at Port Discovery in Baltimore with Garrett. Well during the first 10 minutes of being there I hurt myself. It was rather painful and funny. I was determined not to let it ruin the day for Garrett so I kept going. Sure it hurt a lot and I had to walk funny, but I think he enjoyed himself. We even walked to Hard Rock because Garrett was able to eat there. Not too long after lunch though we called it a day after hitting the gift shop. I think he had fun, he seemed to anyways. It sucks I couldn’t do a whole lot with him, but lucky Jen was able to crawl around in that awesome three story play area. Anyways, I get home and my toe is pretty pissed at this point, but I’m in an eh oh well mood. Well it takes my mom pulling my shoe off for me to well, to get it off. Anyways, I thought it might be ok but after taking off the shoe it got progressively worse. This ended with me at the hospital, which was the last place I wanted to be. I actually ended up making up strange songs about cutting it off while sitting and waiting. My toe is not broken which is always a good thing, but now no one really knows what is going on. Surprise there. I have to call my foot doc on Monday to see when he would like to take a look at it and piss it off more. It still hurts really badly, but it would be so much worse. The only thing that really peeves me about the whole thing is that my big toe is causing me so much pain. Something that is so tiny is more painful than my ankle has been for over a month. I find the whole situation amusing and disappointing at the same time. Oh well, guess we’ll see what happens. Until next time!

A Sad Day

Today is a sad day. Maggie went to the Pet Playground today a little before 7pm. We all miss her very much and wish she didn't have to leave. At least now though, she is happy and no longer in pain. We love you Maggie and you will be missed by everyone you met. Because you touched everyone's hearts.

Death: Both a Good and a Bad Thing

I look at my dog Maggie laying next to me and it just makes me wonder what’s going on in her head. Her breathing is labored and her saliva is very thick. She doesn’t even want to eat or drink. I gave her some fruit loops a little while ago, which she was very happy about and had that look like she wanted more. Why can’t I give her more? She’s going to be leaving us tomorrow after she gets to see Cort. I think she’s been waiting for him to come home and so does my mom. I can’t blame her; I would want to wait to say good bye to him as well. We are all family and love each other, we at the very least would like to say one last I love you. I feel angry every time I think about how my sister doesn’t want to really be involved. Maggie is our family, if it was Cort, mom or I she would hopefully get involved. Why is now different? Why can’t she come say good bye? What’s going to happen when Jack or Sally pass away or become very sick and/or old? She will be forced to deal with it then.
Death itself is a hard thing. It is hard for everyone involved, except maybe the caretaker or embalmer. It is good for the person and/or animal passing away, but it is very hard for the people they are leaving. I bet for some of the people and/or animals that are dying it is hard as well. Wouldn’t you feel torn if you had to leave everyone you loved? I found out an interesting thing one day when my mom made a comment about butterflies and how one had been following her around. I found out that black butterflies normally symbol death and/or a very large change. For some reason that resonated with me. Yesterday when I went for a walk I had four of them fly in front of me. I had a feeling they were warning me about Maggie, but it didn’t make it any easier. Last night I cried harder that I had cried in years. My chest hurt, I couldn’t breathe and my body didn’t want to function. I almost collapsed at one point. I cried like I had when my dad left. It was the same feeling all over again. I also talked to Maggie last night and told her how much I loved her, about stories of her life I remembered, that she would see Misty again in the Pet Playground, and I also said good bye. When I Tyler came in I completely broke down all over again and actually called my dad. I don’t know why I wanted him so badly all of a sudden. I just wanted to sit in his lap while he held me, telling me everything would be ok. I felt like a terrified little girl all over again. I was rather disappointed when he never called me back, even today. No text about it, nothing.
Recently we watched Dead Like Me and it explored many parts of death. I was able to see it in some many different ways and understand it more than I had when I was a preteen. It doesn’t change the fact that I love Maggie with all my heart. I asked that we have her cremated so we could keep her with us no matter where we went. That was I could still talk to her and have her around when things were bad like she always is. I feel so lost and confused right now. I want her happy and no longer in pain, but at the same time I’m not ready to let go. This isn’t about me though, this is about her. I love her and whatever she wants, I will do whatever I can to make that happen.

Thoughts Of a Bride

Is everything in order?
Does my dress look strange?
What about the bride’s maids?
Do they really like their dresses?
Or are they just lying?
What if he’s not here?
Does he still want me?
Do I want him?
How do I get rid of these butterflies?
Should I have a drink?
Maybe go for a walk?
Oh know, is it time?
Am I ready?
What if I trip>?
Do I look alright?
What if my dad won’t give me away?
What if I don’t want him to?
Where did the flower girl go?
Did she already start walking?
Is that were the bride’s maids went to?
Why does my dad look so nervous?
Are his eyes tearing up?
Are mine too?
What if everyone laughs?
Why can’t I breathe?
How do I walk again?
One foot at a time?
Will he be looking when I look up?
He is.
He’s smiling.
I’m smiling.
Perfect.

Maggie (What A Sweetie)

Maggie is an amazing dog. That doesn’t even encompass who she is. She loves you no matter what and she will always try and make you feel better. She smiles at you and wags her tail. She loves the snow. It’s so cute how she hops around in it like she’s a rabbit. She still chases the vacuum cleaner like she always has and she still chase the laser or flashlight around the room. Her life should not have been so short. If she had been human, she would have been the most amazing human I have ever met. She is so much more than a dog. She is family. She is my sister, my daughter and sometimes my mother. When I’m sick she’ll stay close to me, which always makes me feel better. I wish I had taken better care of her. Like most kids, I wanted a dog and promised to take care of her and walk her every day. As I got older I lost that, but there were times when I would take her. She didn’t care that it had been months since we had last gone for a walk, since I’d last brushed her or even fed her instead of my mom. She was always excited and happy about it. I still feel horrible that I had accidentally dropped her on her head. It wasn’t on purpose, she was a little puppy and I was holding her. She started squirming around and I lost my hold on her. She didn’t land on her feet like a cat. My brother and I felt horrible about it. We all love her so very much. We just want her to be happy. No matter how hard it will be for us, it is more important how she feels. I don’t want her to be in pain her last bit of time on earth. Misty had been in pain when we were younger, before we put her to sleep. I remember how sad it was and how much pain she was in. I just want Maggie to be happy because I love her so much. I just want her to know how much we love her and that it’s ok for her to move on when she’s ready.

Placebo Journal

Thank you Placebo Journal for bringing this to my attention. It seems that the government is discussing banning home made school lunches. Besides the simple fact that school lunches are nasty, what about the kids who can't eat the school lunches? Anybody hear of allergies? So, instead we're going to make kids pick between starving or anaphylactic shock? This is just ridicules. I understand home made lunches that are bad for children are a problem, but not all parents are that irresponsible. If you have a few minutes, take a quick read.

http://placebojournal.blogspot.com/2010/08/banned-home-lunches.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+PlaceboJournalBlogMedicalHumorWithAPurpose+%28Placebo+Journal+Blog%3A+Medical+Humor+With+A+Purpose%29

I Wish ...

Today is one of those days where I’ve been wondering, what’s wrong with me and why am I even here? Besides the fact that there is a majority of people who ponder their existence, I don’t seem to understand what made me special enough when I was six to make it through cancer. Then after making it through that, which was hard enough, I’ve had to get through my parent’s divorce, foot surgery on both feet, appendix removal, gallbladder removal, sinus surgery, and of course the ever popular wisdom teeth removal. Look I’m not saying I’m anything special and I learned quite a lot going through all of this, but I would like for my mom to get a break. I can deal with all this medical crap, partially because I have my whole life, but I would really like for her to get a break. She has gone through so much in her life and she’s still going through it. She deserves so much more, like a man that loves her and treats her well, a job that doesn’t kick her ass so hard she’s like a zombie when she gets home, and just to be happy. What is so wrong with me that I put my mother through medical trials since I was born and why didn’t I just kick the bucket when I had cancer? I’m not saying I want to die; I just want things to be easier for her. Why did she get stuck with me? What did she do to deserve this? I love her to much to watch her have to go through all of this pain, stress and heart ache. She’s the most amazing person I know and I wish she could see that. I wish she could be happy all the time and dance around the house with us again like a complete idiot. Those were some of the best times I’ve had with her. She deserves a break, so when the heck is it coming to her?

Upside Down and Spinning

I remember the day I felt like my dad had died like it was yesterday. Here my parents, who I thought loved each other dearly, were getting a divorce and my mother was devastated. The night they talked to my brother and me, I felt like someone had just hit me with thousands of pebbles. They started out small and grew in size slowly at first and then rapidly until I hit the floor. I couldn’t breathe and my whole body didn’t want to function anymore. All I could do was grasp for air and cry. I cried so hard I couldn’t see, my body shook and I felt sick. I remember pushing my body as close into the cabinets as possible so that no one could get me. I just wanted to disappear. Here we had just spent an amazing day at an amusement park over the weekend and now my entire world was spinning out of control.

Everything was really hard. The day after, I was such a mess I screamed at my gym teacher, was sent to the guidance office, and balled for 20 minutes. Then I went home where I proceeded to cry more to my older brother on the phone. For some reason my brother and I had some uncanny connection since I was little, he was always able to make everything clearer. My younger brother didn’t seem to be as a mess as I was. I still don’t know why he seemed better off than me, why he seemed to understand. I think the reason it hit me so hard was because my dad, the guy I had just written a 3 page essay about how he was my hero, had just smashed my entire world into millions of pieces. Pieces I couldn’t even begin to figure out how to put them back together.

Besides the fact that my parents’ divorce was a big helping of dysfunctional, my mom was trying extremely hard to not say anything bad about my father. She had remembered how it was for our older brother and sister. She didn’t want to mess up any type of relationship we might and most likely would have with our father. She just wanted us to be happy. My dad, I think, tried to not say bad things about my mother. Though there were times, mostly when he was really angry, he would say horrible things. Things that didn’t make me hate my mother; things that made me hate him for saying them. He used to say that my mother was keeping us from him, when it reality, we just didn’t want to be with him. We didn’t want to listen to those horrible things that he and his side of the family would say about my mother. We hated it. I remember one time we were at my grandmothers and my little brother went to the bathroom. While he was gone I got grilled about my mother, what she was saying and how she was such a horrible person for not letting us be with them. When In reality my mother had told us that anytime, anytime at all, that we wanted to go over to our fathers or grandmother’s house she would gladly take us. She wanted us to be with our family.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not blaming one particular party. I am not saying that my mother did nothing wrong. That is just not true, but she tried very hard to do what we wanted and to take care of us. She just wanted us to be happy. She took us to councilors so we had someone outside of the family to talk to. Counseling was both helpful and unhelpful. I mean really, after 4 counselor’s never call you back a kid starts to get a complex. My dad’s view of counseling was reading a book. I am not discounting reading in any way. Sometimes those self help books can be helpful for some people. However, if our case we felt it made things worse. All of a sudden my father was doing and saying weird things, things that made me rather uncomfortable to be around him, even in public places.

Finally, the court system made him go to counseling with my brother and I. Most of the time my brother and I dreaded it, counseling with my dad was like having your life force slowly and painfully drained out of you. I imagine it is similar to a Dementor draining you in Harry Potter. Poor harry, I feel for you. There were times we left and my voice was horse from yelling. It also got very repetitive. We would try and tell him the same thing session after session and he didn’t ever seem to get it. Even the councilor tried to explain it to him and none of it really seemed to ever get through. I actually started writing down the conversation word by word so that way I could go back to it as a reference at a later date. My father and I used to get into such petty arguments that I saved all the e-mails. Most of the time people wouldn’t believe what they said, even councilors. I remember printing them and giving them to one of them. That was the same day I was asked which of us was supposed to be the adult and apparently I had an excuse for my behavior.

I look back on it and I feel rather disappointed in myself. What had possessed me to burn all of that energy? Why had I let this situation make me so depressed I was medicated for a year? It became so difficult to explain what was going on to people that when I said that my dad had “left” or was “gone” I let them assume that he was dead. It was just so much easier. I was able to keep what little energy I had left. There were so many times I remember crying myself to sleep feeling like he was dead. I even thought that maybe my real father had been taken by aliens and they had replaced him with a robot. Where had my super hero gone? The man that picked me up when I fell and wiped all my tears away? The man that had hugged me so tight sometimes I couldn’t breathe? Where was the man that would listen to my real and make believe stories? That man, the man that would slow dance with me in the snow when I was little, would never have left my mother and his family as shattered as they were.

The whole things messed me up pretty good. I didn’t trust very many people and I thought most people were lying to me. Even now I still have that thought in the back of my head that worries about the people around me. What if the man I love with my whole heart leaves? What if he shatters me like my father did?

There were times when I tried. I tried to have a relationship with my father again. Right when I thought I could see my super hero at the end of that long dark scary tunnel, he would morph in front of my eyes and break me all over again. Every time it happened, my mom was there to pick me up again and trying and put the pieces back together. She would let me scream and cry at her for hours, even in the middle of the night. At a certain point, I gave up. I gave up on ever being able to see my real father again. He was going to forever be that monster that ate my energy for breakfast.

The interesting thing about all of this is that after I met the love of my life, things started too changed. I got up the courage to try again because believe it or not I missed my family. I missed all the fun times I used to have with them. If it wasn’t for him I might not have ever given them another chance. He would let me squeeze the crap out of his hand until he couldn’t feel it anymore and he would let me babble completely freaked out the whole way there. He is the whole reason I was able to slowly spend more and more time with them. I went out to lunch with my dad on my own not too long ago. I had that glimmer of hope back again, that maybe my real dad was in there somewhere. That day gave me even more hope that there might be an end to this tunnel. He invited me to come spend a week with him and his family at the beach. I knew I probably couldn’t do a week, but maybe a few days. I would have my love right next to me the whole time and I knew he would keep me safe.

That long 3 day weekend at the beach was the break through point for my father and I. I saw my super hero dad again. The man that had kept me safe and loved me no matter what I had done when I was younger was back. I was so happy, that I cried. I didn’t let him see it because I didn’t know how I would even attempt to explain it. I had the most fun with him that I had in a long time. I felt like a little girl again. I wanted to curl up in his lap and cry asking him where he had been all these years. I wanted to tell him about this horrible monster that had pretended to be him for so many years. The day my love and I left the beach, I cried again. I didn’t want to leave my dad. What if he disappeared again? I don’t think I could handle that. I couldn’t watch my dad die again, it was too hard and I don’t think my heart could recover from that again. Not now, not since I’ve seen and been with him again. My super hero was back and even though his suit might not fit quite right anymore and might be washed out some, it was still him. He had come back to life. It might still be a little while until we have even an ok relationship, but I’ll take it. I can’t wait to catch up with him. I’ll keep my zombie dad thank you very much and if you want him, don’t expect to get away with it without a fight.

Tired to the Core

I'm quite tired, like through my toes tired. Between medicine and getting back into swimming I'm pretty exhausted. I'm lasting longer every time I swim so far. The first time I swam in years, I swam 1600 yards and today I swam 2000 yards. I'm very excited about that, but now I'm so tired that I'm falling out on the couch. Who knows, Tyler might have to carry me up the stairs to night. It's a fantastic feeling though. That feeling that you worked your body so hard that you're exhausted. I miss that feeling even though I used to hate it. It got me into the weirdest situations at sleepover's and stuff growing up. Mostly after meets. I like feeling like I'm doing something. Yeah it costs me money, but it's worth it. I might have to cut down on a lot to keep up with my new habit, but I'll take it. :)

A Bad Day

I hate those days when you get no sleep and your periods trying to come. You just feel like crap and it puts you in a weird mood. That kind where everything sucks, nothing is exciting and nothing sounds good to eat. Then sometimes you get those crazy highs where every thing's great and you feel great!Then you crash ... That's where I am now. Bleh.

We're Not So Different

This is another short story I wrote. I'm not really sure how I feel about it and everyone I've read it to has fallen asleep on me. Please don't let that discourage you. I couldn really use some suggestions. :)

The room was dark, filled with the night air. Small desk lamps light up parts the newspaper office. It smelt like old paper, ink and stress. The stress radiated from all parts of the room, like there was a presence stuck there pacing. A young man in his 20’s sat at one of the desks, the lamp next to him making the paper he was writing on blindingly white. His brow was furrowed in concentration and anxiety. His fear dripped from his pores with his sweat. His breathing was ragged and his heart was racing like he had just run a marathon.

“Why’re you so nervous?”

“Oh my god!” he cried throwing his paper and pen into the air, “Are you crazy?! Don’t do that!”

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m so used to people hearing me coming.”

“People? Are you sure that’s the right word?” he sneered.

“That’s pretty cocky coming from a guy who could die so easily,” I snapped.

“True,” he whispered while leaning over to get his paper and pen. When he sat back up to look at me, I knew I had really been rather rude.

“I am sorry. I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said while digging through his desk.

“So how did you get nominated to stay late and deal with the vampire? You are rather young.”

“I’m new, so I’m not considered an asset.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better,” I said easing into the chair in front of his desk slowly, “I’m not going to kill you. Not only do I not drink human blood, but it would be stupid for me to do so. Everyone here knows I was coming to see you and well, they would be pegged for assisting a murder.”

“In a way,” he said pausing to think for a moment, “That really doesn’t help or make it worse. It’s kind of a neutral.”

“Ah,” I breathed out.

His cologne smelt good. I hadn’t been around a man that smelt like that before. He was different, he wasn’t telling me something.

“What are you,” I said pursing my lips.

“What?”

“What are you,” I repeated again.

“How,” he breathed, confusion taking over his face.

“I can smell it,” I sighed, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own.”

“Oh,” he trailed off.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Not until I get my story,” he smirked.

“Hmm, confident and resourceful. I respect that,” I said smiling.

He grabbed a tape recorder that had been sitting next to his monitor. He opened it sliding a new tape into it and then turned it on before looking at me.

“Well,” he said.

“What do you want to know?”

“Why don’t you just start where you think you should and I’ll ask questions where I need to,” he said sternly.

“Alright,” I sighed, “But if you want to know about my life, it’s not exactly happy.”

“That’s alright.”

I nodded. I didn’t really know where to start. How could you explain so much to someone in such a small amount of time? What was important? I guess I should just let my mouth start and I’ll go from there. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth, the next thing I knew words were coming out.

“I never understood why people are so fascinated with vampires. It’s not like we are anything special. All we are is a little different. Does it really matter that we prefer the darkness of night to the warm light of day? So, we prefer blood or raw meat to what people consider to be normal food. To us blood and raw meat is like eating the most decadent food. The type of food that you can feel throughout your entire body it’s so tantalizing and succulent. We can still drink liquids like any other being. Most of them don’t taste very well, besides blood of course. It has something to do with the chemical makeup of the body after the disease has finished its course. We’re just like humans how they become ill. It’s sort of like getting the common cold. Afterwards, your body is immune to that particular strand of it. However, for us it is a little different. We are no longer able to become ill or be killed as easily. There are quite a lot of people who get cutaneous porphyrias vampyra. Not many people survive it though. There are many mysterious deaths in hospitals that are never figured out. The autopsy reports are usually thrown into a filing cabinet until they are moved to a permanent warehouse. No one really goes back for them or looks at them. They’re just considered a medical mystery. Some of them have been studied in medical schools and of course many theories have been made. No one has figured us out yet, at least no human has.

I’ve always wondered where some of these theories about us came from. Some of them are pretty easy to understand, but some of them are just ridicules. Many of the theories that are made have us wrong. We aren’t dangerous creatures of the night. The reason we like the night is because of our neurotransmitters. Everything is too bright for us. It’s sort of like nystagmus. Are eyes pull in too much light and we do sort of have rapid eye movement. It explains our reflexes in a way. Since our eyes move so quickly, we take in quite a lot of our surroundings and that makes it so we can react faster. We see things most people don’t. As for our pale skin and burning up in the sun, it’s because of the disease. It changes the pigment of our skin, it sort of bleaches it. That is why when we go into the sun we burn so easily. The pain is explained by the reminiscing nerve disorder, complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS), we end up with. No one ever understood how we got it because it is only supposed to show during trauma. The best we could come up with is that our body was so traumatized by the disease that we ended up with it. CRPS can be extremely painful. Our pain tolerance is high because of the disease, but when the light touches us it becomes extremely unbearable. Mostly we die of pain if we’re in the sun to long and our bodies end up charged because of our pigment changed. We burn very easily, much like an albino. As for being killed with a stake, yes it is true that we are able to be killed that way. Then again, what human wouldn’t die from being stabbed in the heart with a stake? One of the theories I find interesting is the pain that silver inflicts. It does hurt quite a lot and our skin can bleed from it. The best our medical professionals can come up with is that for some reason the disease made us develop a silver allergy. It explains all the issues we have with it, it is just severe. The absolutely most mysterious thing about us is how quickly we heal. No has been able to figure it out yet. There have even been blood tests to understand us more and the only thing that was really apparent is the lack of oxygen. That is still the most mysterious.

We all have different forms of depression. That’s why we come across so brooding. We were all rejected at some point in our lives because of how we changed. We were different, strange and believed to be very dangerous. There were quite a lot of people who wouldn’t even try to get to know us. We were considered to be contagious freaks that should not be alive. Contagious, I hate that word. People associate contagious with air born diseases. It’s more like aids. We can bite people and transfer their blood to our bodies, but the only way for them to contract it is if they drink our blood. It makes them suffer through it and become immune if they can live through it. It’s more painful than anyone can possibly imagine. In some cases doctors have been able to put people in a chemical induced coma. That way they wouldn’t have to suffer as much. I wasn’t one of the lucky ones, like most of us. I am glad I didn’t though, because the ones that do tend to be unable to handle as much pain, which kills most of them. If I had been that way, I would be dead by now.”

He didn’t move a first. He just stared at me in an almost confused way. He finally shifted, taking in a deep breath.

“So,” he paused, “Vampirism is a disease like getting sick.”

“No, it is the aftermath of a disease. It is what your immune system becomes after being affected by it. Sort of like zombies.”

“Wait, don’t tell me zombies don’t exist,” he groaned.

“I could tell you they don’t, but that would be a lie. They are just as real as me. All mythical creatures are.”

“Are you telling me that mummies, werewolves, mermaids, angels, and even Greek mythology is real?!”

Everything about him screamed for it not to be true. It was like I had just shattered his entire perception of the world. I had just changed everything. It was one thing to hear about people saying they were vampires, but it was a whole other thing to meet a real one who tells you all those fantasies were real. I didn’t want to be the person to do that, but it looked like it was to late.

“Yes.”

“Witches and wizards?”

“Yes.”

“Unicorns and griffins too?”

“Yes.”

“Shit! How can all of this stuff exist without anyone knowing about it!” he growled.

“We work very hard to keep everything secret. We don’t want any extra attention drawn to us. We already have enough issues,” I said trailing off.

He sighed and his face turned to one of sorrow.

“Look, I didn’t mean.”

“It’s alright,” I said cutting him off, “Trust me. It’s not a big deal.”

“What about the myth about fangs,” he blurted.

“What about it?”

“Is it true? How do they come out? Does medicine explain that?”

“Ah. The infamous fangs. Yes, they are real. However, it’s not exactly how people think. They are an extension of the canine. The disease causes the gums to recede right above them making them appear longer. Though, they do grow during it as well. There is calcification in the jaw that pushes the tooth down to make room. It’s sort of confusing.”

“Can I see yours?”

“What?” I snapped completely taken back. No one had ever asked me that before.

“Can I see them,” he stated.

“I guess,” I breathed.

I leaned forwards into the light of his desk lamp. It was strange, how was I supposed to show him. Just open my mouth? Should I smile? I decided on smiling. Well I did so, I heard his sharp intake of breath. At the point I felt like I shouldn’t have. It was a bad idea. I quickly retreated back to the dark, to safety.

“Wow,” he breathed, “They’re beautiful. They’re not scary at all like I thought they would.”

“Is that bad?”

“No,” he laughed, “That’s good.”

He studied me for a minute, though I knew he couldn’t see me very well. When he moved it made me jump. I didn’t like this. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I shouldn’t have shown him my fangs. That had been a horrible idea.

“Can I see you again? You don’t have to show me your fangs again. I just want to see you better.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I said fidgeting in my chair.

“You know,” he laughed,”For someone who is supposed to be fearless and no longer human. You have quite a lot of human qualities. You even have the mannerisms and the awkwardness. How old are you?”

“Didn’t anyone teach you never to ask a woman how old she was?” I hissed.

“Yeah I did, but I figured you would have prepared yourself for that question already. I would think it’s pretty normal and valid,” he smirked.

He was getting cocky again. Why did he feel he could be so cocky?

“Like I’ve been trying to tell you I am not much different from a normal human. I don’t see why you don’t seem to get that. In regards to your question I am 104 years old. We don’t age like humans do because of the amount of oxygen in our blood. At least that is what we believe anyways,” I sneered.

It wasn’t like I was some animal. I have feelings just like any human.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he sighed.

“Whatever,” I said frowning.

“Would you feel better if I told you what I was?” he said leaning smugly onto his desk.

He was staring me right in the eye, but I didn’t understand how he could. It was rather dark in here.

“Maybe.”

“I’m telekinetic,” he stated without skipping a beat, “I can move things with my mind.”

“Prove it,” I snapped.

The expression that appeared on his face was rather comical. He wasn’t surprised or confused. It was an expression I didn’t recognize. I didn’t like that. He then looked very intently at the lamp sitting on his desk. Not long after he started it slowly began to rise off the table as if on strings. He moved it quickly all of a sudden, right toward my face bathing it in light. I winced as the light pierced my eyes. I hadn’t been expecting that, I figured he had been lying.

“You know, you’re very beautiful. Even when you wince in pain,” he laughed.

“You sir, are an ass hole,” I stated mater of factly.

Who in their right mind would thrust a bright light into a vampires face? That was just idiotic and well, rude.

“So, did the disease give you your dark hair and green eyes, or was that genetic?”

“Genetic. Can you please get that stupid thing out of my face!”

“Sure,” he said moving the lamp from its suspended place in the air back to its place on the desk, “You’re not surprised?”

“Not really.”

“You’ve met someone like me before?” he asked, the expression on his face almost looked excited.

“Not exactly. I’ve run into a mind reader before, so it’s doesn’t really surprise me. It explains some stuff though.”

“Like what?”

“You might want to rerecord over that last bit or don’t let people listen to it.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Because then people will know what you are and nothing will ever be normal for you ever again,” I sighed.

“I’m guessing you have personally experienced that?”

“Yes.”

“Want to elaborate?”

“No.”

“Right,” he said.

“Do you have any other questions for me?”

“I don’t think so, there might be more I think of later though. I would like to hear your story sometime.”

“I don’t tell anyone my story,” I stated.

“There’s always a first you know.”

“Not when it comes to that.”

He yawned them. It was wide and long, nothing like those fake yawns people do. It was a real one. He was tired, though I couldn’t blame him. It was 2:00 am. It was probably way past his bed time.

“You should go home. Sleep. You’re tired.”

“Ha,” he laughed, “You’re worried about me being tired. Interesting.”

“I am just looking out for your well being, if you prefer to sit here and bicker so be it,” I said frowning.

He smiled at me, “I’ll be fine, but speaking of sleep. Do you sleep? Like in coffins and stuff?”

“No,” I sighed, “I actually own a bed. I do tend to sleep during the day, but that is because I stay up all night. It’s less painful being out at night then during the day.”

“What kind of bed?”

“How is that relevant?”

“I’m the interviewer, so answer my question.”

“Fine,” I growled, “it’s a temper pedic. I liked the commercial and wanted one. Happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I might be, but I’m growing on you,” he smirked.

“If anything you are becoming more and more annoying.”

“You’re only saying that because you enjoy my company,” he laughed.

“The interview is over,” I stated rising from my chair.

“Come on, don’t be like that. I was just teasing you.”

“If you think of anything, call. You have my number.”

“Are you asking me to call,” he smirked.

“Good bye!” I snapped walking for the door.

That man was insufferable. How could he think that I enjoyed his presence? If anything he was a pain in the ass. I was only doing this because I had been asked to. I will not stand to be with him one more moment. I had fulfilled more than my talking quota for the night. When I walked out the door and started down the stairs, I heard him yell after me.

“Ok, I’ll call you then! We can get together and maybe we can fang!” he yelled.

That made me laugh. I couldn’t help it. It was the cheesiest thing I had ever heard. How could someone so annoying make me laugh? As I walked down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor, I couldn’t help but wonder when he would call and if he would make me laugh again. I wanted him to make me laugh again.

Dreams

I like dreams. For more than one reason. They are a way that my imagination comes to life. Even the one’s I don’t like I think about for hours trying to figure out what exactly is going on. No matter how many times I’ve looked at dream books to decipher them, my gut tells me they aren’t always right. Sometimes I think my dreams are telling me acting what I am seeing. Almost as if they are for seeing something. It is not like that hasn’t happened before. Most of them time those dreams are just strange to me because they aren’t strange. If something surreal isn’t happening in my dreams, I feel like there is something wrong with them. The example of the for seeing would be a few years before the movie Signs came out. I dreamed about the part where they see the alien’s reflection in the TV and it is holding the little boy. I woke up crhying that night and wasn’t able to go back to sleep. Then a few years later, after the dream, I was in the movies watching the movie with my family. When that scene came on I freaked out and almost screamed. I had to burry my face in my hands as I cried. I still can’t watch that movie because of that dream.
I have a tendency to remember at least one dream a night. Sometimes I remember multiple, even when I’m heavily medicated. Last night IK had two dreams that in a way blended together. I don’t even think they were supposed to because I didn’t even seem to remember it in my second one. The first one was in a strange house that was trying to attack and kill my father and I. IK had gone in to save someone, but I’m not sure who. I don’t remember a whole lot about it, but I do remember when we were out of the house on the porch which was suspended over water. The water just touched the bottom step. Something grabbed my leg and started pulling me in and Tyler grabbed onto me to save me. No matter how hard he pulled he wasn’t strong enough. I thought I was going to die. Then my mom grabbed onto him and started pulling as well, until finally I was pulled free. I flew over their heads and slammed into a very think pillar. When I hit the ground I hurt all over and it turned into an outer body experience. I was looking at myself, seeing the blood creeping out my eyes, nose and mouth. I coughed as they told me how sorry they were. I said it was ok and then I said my heart hurt so much. I kept repeating it until everything went black
The dream then turned to me getting off of another porch type thing when I looked at my left hand and started freaking out. I couldn’t find my wedding rings, they had fallen off my hands even though they had just been there. My cousin Joe handed them to me and laughed saying they had just fallen off. I explained that they had to be resized and he said that was alright considering I had just gotten married. I then started walking around this strange shopping type place that was like an outdoor outlet. I was looking at all the restraints and browsing their menus. Apparently I had been put on a mission to find a good place for my mom, sister and I to eat dinner while everyone else partied at the house. We just didn’t want to be there for some reason, but she was waiting for my sister before she caught up. I ran into girls from girl scouts that I had never really gotten along with. I was nice though and told them about the restraints before I went on my way. When I circled back around I saw my mom and sister waiting for me, when I all of a sudden noticed a restaurant in the middle that I hadn’t noticed before. We ended up going there to eat, but my dream skipped over that part. It then started back when we were walking into the house when I went looking for Tyler, who I was married to. I was panicing because I couldn’t find him. The place was built in a wheel and spokes design with tons of rooms and a hall the circled the whole place. I found him in one of the rooms and I asked him where the baby was. He was like, what baby? I started freaking out that he didn’t know where our daughter was and all he had to do was keep her hear by. She was still little enough that she was in a carrier and would sleep. I found her hanging in a closet in her baby carrier. Not like she was dead, the handle was what was hooked. I had to get past all these weird creatures to get her. I did not like the end of that dream, but the beginning was amazing. I was so happy and content. Everything felt perfect.
I’m not sure what that dream was telling me. Well, either of them for that matter. When I told my mom about it she just kind of “hmm”’d me. Who knows. Just think, all of that happened during a nap. You can only imagine how long the ones I have at night are.

End of Day One

This officially marks the end of the first day of my new diet. It isn’t a crash diet or one of those counting kind. In fact, all it is is a dietary supplement. So far it has done exactly what it said. Well, as much as can be proven in one day. It has managed to curve my appetite. I’m not as hungry and I don’t feel the need to eat all the time. It’s actually pretty interesting. My starting weight is a whole whopping 204 pounds. I am not proud of the fact that I am now in the 200s.I actually cried the day I found that out. This is the beginning of my attempt to rectify that. I will do a way in once a week. As of now, it looks like I will be doing it on Saturdays in the morning. I will be keeping track and will be writing about it. That includes any major changes that happen as well. Wish me luck! I know I can get back to my old weight if not a better one. :)

It Isn't Everything

It’s weird how much my life has changed. I guess I never realized how much one little incident can change your life forever. I mean I have had big things happen before, but not like this. I must have taken it for granted. How did I not realize how important it really was? At least I had family, friends, and a wonderful boyfriend to help me. If I didn’t, I don’t know what I would do. Did the door bell just ring? It did. He’s here; I can’t believe he’s already here. What time is it? I’m not ready! Where is that stupid clock?

I placed my hand next to me, the comforter felt cool in my hands. It was softer then I remembered. The cotton was so smooth as I slid my hand carefully over it until I could feel my squishy pillow. Slowly, my hand traced the pillow as it moved to the left. When the bed disappeared under my hand, I knew I was close. Hesitantly I kept moving my hand to the left until it hit the bedside table. It still scared me, no matter how many times my hand carefully touched it. I knew it was there, but it always caught me off guard. Once my hand was on the flat glass surface on the top of it, I slid my hand along until I found the clock. The big button, it’s the big button. Where is it? Small button, small button, switch, medium button, none of these were it. Did I miss it? Carefully backtracking over the buttons I began to count. One, two, three, down, four, big button, there it was.

“The time is, six twenty pm.”

He’s early; I knew he had to be early. I don’t even know how I look, or where my shoes are. Where are my shoes!! Closet, get to the closet. It’s frustrating how little things have become so difficult, things I took for granted for years. Things like being able to cook on my own, pick out shoes, and even walk by myself. I know some things will come with time, but other things make me worry. What if I can’t ever do them ever again?

The sound of him knocking lightly on the door scared me out of my thoughts. It scared me every time he did that. I guess I should have been used to it by now, but I still haven’t. Is that weird? Does that mean something’s wrong with me? I hate this, I hate this so much. Uhg, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. I should just get used to it and try and deal with it. Grow with the new me. I can do this, I know I can. I have to.

“Are you ready?”

“I can’t find my shoes,” I whispered.

“That’s okay, let me help you.”

“I don’t want you to have to help me. I want to be able to do it on my own.”

I hate relying on people. I was so used to being able to do things on my own. It’s so hard to transition from that. Right now I can barely get to the bathroom on my own, let alone leave my house. I know everything will come with time, but it’s just so frustrating.

“I know, but it has only been a week. You can’t expect to be perfect at everything yet. I mean, you’ve lived here for a few years now and you haven’t gotten used to where things are yet.”

“Great, so you think I’m taking too long to figure things out.”

I can’t believe this, I’m taking too long? It’s only been a week! People can’t expect me to be perfect yet.

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” he sighed.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Of course you can, you are a strong amazing woman. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

I heard him move closer to me. His shoes on the carpet had a distinct sound. Everyone I knew sounded different. He had a lighter step then most people, probably from his years of martial arts training. He used to enjoy it and I still think he does, but he doesn’t want to get back into it. I never understood why.

“Did you find my shoes?” I sighed.

I knew he wouldn’t let me try and feel my way around until I found had them. He would sit me back down and grab them himself. Sometimes I wish he would let me try when he’s around, that way I can get over this and keep moving. The good thing about being able to see before the accident is that I can picture rooms in my head. Sometimes it helps, but then there are other times where it just makes it so much worse. It just reminds me that everything’s different now.

“I’ve got them right here,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. He almost sounded triumphant.

When he touched my leg I let out a little yelp. After that, I was just embarrassed. It wasn’t like it hurt and I should have expected it, but I didn’t. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I get this right?

“Stop worrying. You are doing magnificent for someone who just lost their sight. Even the doctor said so. Why do you think they let you leave so early?”

“I know,” I whispered, “But it doesn’t change how I feel. How discombobulated I am.”

He had already gotten one shoe on and was trying to button it. They were my favorite pair of shoes. They were black with big black buttons on the side that held the strap down. I could feel him fumbling and his body slowly becoming ridged as he became more and more frustrated. When I reached for my foot, it just reminded me how everything was different now. I couldn’t even reach for my foot without having to feel around for it. I missed it by going too far or not far enough.

“Here, let me help,” I whispered.

“No, I’ve got it,” he growled.

“Uhhg. Just let me do it. I can do at least this.”

He stopped moving then. All I could here was his breathing. When I finally got my hands on the strap and button, he moved his. He let me do it and then slid then other shoe on my foot. I reached again, but for the other foot this time and carefully button the shoe like I had hundreds of times.

“You think I’m incompetent don’t you,” he breathed.

“What? Are you kidding me? I would never think that, especially now!”

I knew he was tense. The air in the whole room had shifted. It was like breathing in smoke. It was heavy, thick and really wasn’t working well.

“Come on, let’s go. I’m starving and could use a night out,” I said smiling.

“Are you sure? We can just stay here again.”

“Of course I’m sure. You think I would have gone through all this trouble getting ready if I wasn’t going out?”

He laughed. His amazing laugh that always made me feel better. It was comforting no matter how horrible I felt.

“Come on,” he said. I could tell he was smiling now. I could see it in my head, that lopsided smile of his.

He carefully slid his hand into mine and helped me stand up. Standing was still a little difficult sometimes. It was like my whole world shifted. I had to get better at keeping it steady or I might fall on my face more often than I used to. He led me very carefully through the house, making sure to warn me when object I could bump into or trip over were near. The steps were the problem. Why I had thought it was a good idea to have a five floor walk up, I’d never know. I guess when I could see it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe it was time to find a new place. I don’t know if I could handle that right now though.

“You ok?” his voice broke through my thoughts and scared me.

“Oh my god! Don’t do that!” I yelped.

“Do what? Ask you a question? You look really worried.”

It really shouldn’t have surprised me. He always asked if I was okay. Especially now. I couldn’t blame him, though it did get quite annoying when everyone is always asking if I was okay.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking. About the stairs,” I sighed.

“What about them? Do you want me to carry you? I can carry you.”

The urgency and worry in his voice made me laugh.

“No, you don’t have to carry me. I was just thinking about if I should move or not. You know, because of how many stairs there are. If it was only a floor or two it probably wouldn’t be that bad. It’s just, you know.”

I could feel my voice drift off. If I conquered these stairs, I would feel fantastic. Just because I was blind didn’t mean I couldn’t do this. No matter how people made me feel, I can do whatever I want. After declaring that, it was like a wave of relief washed of me. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, but it felt fantastic. It was the most amazing I had felt for days. When I grabbed the railing I felt stable as I took my first step. It felt like the floor had dropped out from under me until both my feet were planted firmly on the next step.

“Wow, you did it. You took a step on your own,” the excitement in his voice made me feel even better.

I could do this. I stepped again and again very slowly. Each step got easier. I didn’t feel like I would fall the farther I went on my own. I knew that if I did trip though I would be ok. He wouldn’t let me fall. I knew I was getting close to the bottom before I took another step. I fell for the first time. I thought I was going to be sick until I felt his arms wrap around me. He stabled me, but my head was still spinning.

“If you wanted to keep taking stairs all you had to do was ask,” he laughed.

“What? What do you mean?”

I was so confused and my brain didn’t want to work right. It hadn’t stabilized quite yet.

“We’re on the ground floor. You already took the last step.”

I knew he was smirking at me. I could feel it and see it in my mind.

“What? I did? What didn’t you tell me you jerk!”

He laughed really hard this time, “I thought you knew, you were doing so well.”

“Well obviously I didn’t,” I grumbled.

“You’re missing what’s important here.”

“What do you mean,” I asked.

“You just walked down five flights of stairs on your own. I didn’t help at all.”

“I did?” my mind went back over everything I had just done, every stair.

“I did!” I cried, “I did it!”

“Yeah you did,” he laughed, “I’m so proud of you. Let’s go celebrate.”

I was so excited; I didn’t even notice that he had gotten me out the front door until I smelled the outside. It was the most amazing this I had smelt in my entire life. The smell of the water mixed with flowers, food, and the night air. It was absolutely sinful. I could see the world in a whole new way and it was amazing. At that point I knew, I knew everything would be okay.