i just don't care

I've made a new discovery about myself. I just don't care. I don't care if people think I'm fat/ugly/stupid. I don't care if people think I dress stupidly {I do!}. I don't care if people think I am a bad mother. A bad person. I just don't care.

Usually I can harp and stress for years. Always so worried. And now, well now, of course, the depression and anxiety affect me a lot and they keep me inside and away a lot of the time but let's ignore that for right now because...

I just don't care.

I don't care if you were rude to me. I don't care if I get a scathing email. I don't care if you yell at me or try to make me feel bad about myself. I don't and I won't.

Because, here's the thing, the people who really matter won't do any of that stuff. They won't make you think it or feel it. They won't lash out in the heat of the moment. They'll just be understanding and nice. These people I care about.

I used to worry that people thought I was mean. A bitch. I so wanted to be liked. Walk all over me why don't you! Just, please, like me! Now I just don't care anymore. 

I used to think this was a harsh way to live and, now, I don't really think about it at all. I care about those I love, like and respect. Everybody else is just background noise.

I kind of wish everybody felt that way. How nice would it be if, in this self-obsessed world, we didn't feel fat-shamed or thin-shamed? That we didn't feel bad about wearing makeup or not wearing any? That we didn't care if people criticised our perfectly happy relationships? That it didn't bother us if we were different {because that doesn't make you bad it just means you're different!}? 

I wonder what the world would be like if we just stopped giving a shit about what everyone was saying/thinking/feeling about us? If we just focused on being the best we could be {not hurting anybody} and having the best life? And not a life that "fits" into societies ridiculous standards but one that fits into your own. Like loving spending every waking moment with your Husband and just adoring your kid and allowing yourself six months off from life because it's just bloody hard.


Wouldn't that be nice?


friday five//the happy list

I often get quite bogged down with the drudgery of life. I let the bad things overwhelm me and I forget about all the little things in life that bring joy & brighten my day. Today, since I've currently been taking a lot of all the little pieces in my day for granted, I wanted to share five things {some ridiculous} that have been making me ridiculously happy --

one. a month or so before my birthday B. asked me what I wanted most. I told her I'd love a picture of her and I so she {along with Husband} picked out this photo of us and the frame. I love it because a) it's a favourite pic of mine and b) because B. picked it all on her own and I always treasure those thoughtful gifts from her.
two. lilypinkprints stickers {find her shop here}. Husband and B. got me a few for my birthday and I just adore them.
three. I am not usually a morning person but I just adore waking up every morning with B. Last night she had crawled into our bed, scared from a bad dream, and she insisted on holding my hand as we slept and my heart was full {lame I am}. When we wake we lie in bed for as long as time will allow and snuggle and chat about random stuff. Then we get up and get ready for the day, I make B. silly bunny sandwiches for school. This is where I am my happiest.
four. rainy days, walking B. to school with the wind whipping my legs and sausage dog umbrellas.
five. "working" at home days with Husband with snuggles, movies/tv shows and delicious food. I've said it before and I'll say it again -- being an adult is hard and sometimes you just need to be lazy and eat ribs and cheese fries while watching Suicide Squad.


what makes you happy?


the inherent laziness

I am both a) an organised person which I think is pretty standard and b) anxiously organised which is frustrating and comes in random waves that are usually filled with tears, shaking and blackness. I am also inherently lazy and it's just the strangest thing.

1. I love, love, love tea. It tastes good, it perks me up and it calms my mind. Yet, I firmly detest making my own tea. At home I have the Breville Tea Maker which one could assume makes life easier but, nope. The act of putting the water and tea bags/leaves in is just terribly disheartening.

2. Sometimes if there is something out of my reach I will just lie or sit there, usually, until Husband notices me grunting and moving my arm around all funny and he'll say "are you trying to use the force?" and I'll nod, semi-sheepishly, and then he'll get the object for me. He says I'm adorable/hilarious. I do not support that delusion.

3. Toilets. Ugh. Hate them and the business they promote. I know, I know. I'm 29. But I just can't. Why? The act of getting up to pee, especially when in a warm and toasty bed with the perfect crotch-to-blanket ratio is devastating to my self-esteem and I can't encourage such strong acts of hate.

4. Pyjamas. You may have noticed that I adore them. I much prefer buying them to normal clothes. I much prefer wearing them to normal clothes. I also hate bras and struggle to walk the line to boobs upright and supported and boobs roaming free. Here's the thing -- if I don't have to be anywhere for the day {the best kind of plans, really} I will wake up and shower and then change into a different pair of pyjamas that are "awake" pyjamas. And then, at bedtime, I will shower, once again, and then change into another pair of pyjamas. These are called "sleeping" pyjamas, friends, and this way of life is awesome. Come join me.

As an aside, I have a lovely friend who does kinda the same thing with pyjamas and that makes me wonderfully happy. If the world were filled with pyjama lovers I think we'd all be better of.

5. Now let's discuss chocolate shall we? I love it, that much is clear, but laziness also plays a part here. If I can't be bothered cooking, whining for Husband to make me food, thinking of something to eat and/or actually making the effort to eat I will stuff my big fat face with chocolate. For breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. The great thing about chocolate is that it fills me up so if I eat it for breakfast I usually don't need lunch. The bad thing about it is that it's chocolate and even I know that's not a proper meal.


So, inherent laziness...? If I'm 29 will I ever change? Will I ever want to? Should I ever want to? Or can I brush this laziness off as one of my fabulous quirks?


adventures in awesome//amazement

For my birthday outing this year I had one request -- to go to a maze. I'd recently devoured the Harry Potter films and felt a desperate need to walk through a maze. And so we did. Three of them actually. 

The three of us headed up to Wyong to visit Amazement Farm & Fun Park and it was gorgeous. The farm has a wide variety of animals {horses, cows, chickens, rabbits...}, three mazes, play ground and so much more. It's definitely more for the kids than adults so B. had a blast {which is all I want in a birthday outing} but I always find myself so at peace when I'm in a place like this.

I kind of felt like I'd stumbled into the Secret Garden here.

Amazement has games too -- this thing {what is it called?}, noughts & crosses and checkers. We made up our own rules and B. was a natural.

Amazement has scheduled shows throughout the day. We got to groom the ponies. You can also visit bunny world {which B. refused to do because it reminded her of Sam-Wise} and pet the goats and sheep. Mostly, though, the animals roam around and you can peek in their enclosures.

 We played basketball...

& checkers

How gorgeous is this? I never imagined I'd be a twenty-nine year old who just enjoys looking at trees but I do. I'm a happy little tree-looker.

Anyway, here's some proper visit-y details:

Admission for children {3-16 years} is: $12.00.
Adults are: $16.00.
You can also purchase a Family Pass {2 adults & 2 children} for: $50.00.

For more information visit the Amazement website here.


It really is a wonderfully cute place & so lovely for a family day out. And while you're in the area make sure you stop by Luka Chocolates and buy a coconut truffle why don't you?


the proust questionnaire

I have recently become obsessed with Vanity Fair's Proust Questionnaire. If you haven't read any of them you should, post haste. I recently inhaled Ina Garten's version which just made me adore her even more. She {and Nigella} hold a special place in my heart because B. and I used to devour their shows when she and I stayed at home together. I decided to be really, truly self-absorbed and do my own {and, to be honest, nothing has made me feel more lame in all my life} --

1.What is your idea of perfect happiness?
A quiet life with Husband, B. & the dogs.

2.What is your greatest fear?
Anything bad happening to those I love.

3.What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Not standing up for myself.

4.What is the trait you most deplore in others?

5.Which living person do you most admire?
J.K. Rowling.

6.What is your greatest extravagance?

7.What is your current state of mind?
In love.

8.What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Unfiltered honesty.

9.On what occasion do you lie?
When people ask how I'm feeling.

10.What do you most dislike about your appearance?
My baked ham legs.

11.Which living person do you most despise?

12.What is the quality you most like in a man?

13.What is the quality you most like in a woman?

14.Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
That devastates my self-esteem!
I've lost my... {while it's right next to me}

15.What or who is the greatest love of your life?

16.When and where were you happiest?
When I was a stay-at-home mum with B.

17.Which talent would you most like to have?
To write through the darkness.

18.If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Mental illness.

19.What do you consider your greatest achievement?

20.If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
A dog.

21.Where would you most like to live?
In a cottage with a white picket fence in the country or at a quiet beach with my family.

22.What is your most treasured possession?
My infinity bracelet. 

23.What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Being rude to others.

24.What is your favorite occupation?

25.What is your most marked characteristic?
Dancing randomly...?

26.What do you most value in your friends?

27.Who are your favorite writers?
Truman Capote. J.K. Rowling. George Orwell.

28.Who is your hero of fiction?
Bilbo Baggins.

29.Which historical figure do you most identify with?

30.Who are your heroes in real life?
People living with mental illness who still get up every morning.

31.What are your favorite names?
Bailey. Grady. Harper.

32.What is it that you most dislike?
People who take their anger out on others. There's no excuse for it. Ever. 

33.What is your greatest regret?
Opening the back door for Minnie.

34.How would you like to die?
At the same time as Lindsay. In our sleep, holding hands. 

35.What is your motto?
she believed she could and then she couldn't be effed


friday five//advent obsessed

I'm currently deep in Christmas mode. This week I have been on the hunt for advents that are a bit different to gift to B. on December 1. I'm not usually a big fan of advents myself {the beauty ones are generally lackluster}, however, B. loves them so we always pick one up. I find myself torn, still, because they seem so wasteful and nobody needs that much chocolate...

This year I've set my sights on advents that differ from the norm. Here's five picks --

1. Railway Advent Calendar|Lark Store -- presented in a lovely railway box, each day helps you build this lovely set.
2. Lego Friends Advent Calendar|Target -- if they love Lego this is sure to be a hit but I wonder how many tiny pieces will attack your feet in the night?
3. R2-D2 Advent Calendar|Pottery Barn Kids -- a semi-DIY which I adore the idea of especially since you can tailor the gifts inside to suit anyone/everyone and you can reuse it every year.
4. Eraser Advent Calendar|Kikki-K -- B. loves a cute eraser to play with or for decoration and I love the little notes inside with special prompts like donating toys.
5. Jewellery Box Advent Calendar|Lark Store -- this is the top contender for B's advent this year -- countdown to Christmas by adding charms to the bracelet. So sweet and the packaging is just divine. 


a beauty epiphany

For the past few weeks I have been in a beauty rut. By "beauty rut" I, of course, mean I have been so fucking lazy that when it comes to getting ready {usually for work} I leave the prep far too late and I barely have any time to put some tinted gel in my brows before rushing out the door. Don't even get me started on the hair that doesn't get brushed for 3+ days at a time. I don't want to turn this into a depression thing but here's the truth: my depression shifts into certain areas. My beauty routine is currently ticking all the boxes. 

For months on end {for most of the year, actually, it has been in all the areas but, recently, the fog has started to clear and I can see straight again. I'm actually enjoying life properly which means I am going out and talking to people more. The downside {I guess?} to this is that I am even more exhausted than before so I need more sleep {at night and naps during the day} and that I need a few hours {sometimes a day or two} to mentally prepare myself for what is to come. I don't like it but it is what it is.

So most mornings I'll relax and laze until I absolutely have to get ready. I'll jump in the shower, screech at Husband to cut me some capsicum sticks and shove some clothes on. My hair is frequently shoved up, knotty and patchy in places because it's still falling out. I could get ready earlier but I just can't get out of my head long enough to do it. I so do enjoy luxuriating in the process of getting ready and looking "done" but sometimes I just can't do it. Sometimes {read: all the time} it's either get up and do life looking shabby or stay in bed forever. It used to be the latter but now I've moved into the former and I'm feeling frumpy.

And, then, as if by a miracle I had a beauty epiphany on the day I had the least time of all. I need to leave my house 15 minutes before I start work {usually I make it half an hour because being early makes me calm}, yet, there I was, 3 minutes away from needing to leave {capsicum sticks still uncut}, still wet from the shower, staring at my face and feeling like complete and utter crap. Usually I don't feel down on how I look {because dumb} but I felt it in that moment. Lazy, rushed and flustered I opened my make up drawer to brush my brows into somewhat okay-ness when I saw it and it hit me -- BB Cream. 

I had forgotten all about it. How easy it was. How it evened skin tone and made me feel less like a see-through freak of nature. Bliss. My beauty epiphany.

I need to also, briefly, sing the praises of natural light and a car mirror. Orange streaks and un-blended product do not stand up under the travelling glare. 

Now, please, let me never forget about the miracle that is my beautiful BB. 


j reads//let's discuss the cursed child

I finally got around to reading The Cursed Child {frustratingly, months after it was released -- Swine Flu will do that to you} and, well, I loved it and, yet, felt disappointed by it in the same measure.

The most common complaint I have read/heard is based on the style of the book. People don't like that it's a play/script. It's hard to read. It's not the same. None of this I care about {how stupid can people be?}. It took some getting used to, yet, if I wasn't interested in reading a script I just wouldn't buy it. Simple as that. Seriously. Go be annoying elsewhere {preferably in the seclusion of your house all by your lonesome}.

So, look, here's the thing -- The Cursed Child isn't a Harry Potter book, not really. Not one that I adored as a kid and still adore now. The magical feeling is gone and, instead, is replaced with a different version. And that's fine. But it was a tad disappointing. I devoured the book in a few hours. I was hooked but it was a different kind of hooked. It's tricky to even put into words because I loved it but it didn't feel as though it became a part of me.

In parts I felt like the main protagonists were boring, annoying, tedious. In others I felt right there with them. Sometimes I just didn't get it. I didn't feel the "rebellion" or the angst had a point.

So I loved it and hated it.

Adored the Harry and Hermione relationship -- the banter. Adored and deplored Harry as a dad.

Harry Potter is clearly something I hold very dear to my heart and The Cursed Child fit some expectations and didn't. But, look, it didn't ruin my childhood. I still thoroughly enjoyed it and, perhaps, one day, I'll re-read it. Who knows?

Have you read it? What did you think?


misadventures in parenting//parental disagreements

A few months ago, just before B. turned 5, Husband and I had our first proper parental disagreement. I've mentioned it many times before but he and I don't really fight. We've been together 11 years, there's not really anything to argue about anymore. We're also annoyingly in-sync and we're kind of exactly the same person. Still, we have tiffs every now and again. I get frustrated that he doesn't clean the way I do. He, mostly, gets frustrated with himself because I'm, obviously, too perfect. But this fight, man, it spanned hours and there was shouting {nice!} and many tears shed...

I'm not big on airing too many personal things here {or anywhere really}. I like to keep my relationship very guarded. I don't discuss my problems with anyone, really, which is why nobody has heard about the divorce that almost was or anything really bad. This fight is, of course, not that serious in the grand scheme of things which is why I'm gabbing about it now and, look, any experience that I can share that is so utterly ridiculous is something I'm very happy to do. Observe --

For over a year we {and by "we" I mean "I" because Husband kind of leaves this kind of stuff up to me} have been searching everywhere for a dance class for B. She's had trials and I've scoured websites everywhere trying to find the perfect one. Yet, everywhere I looked there was tight buns and enforced outfits and make up, even for the youngest, at performances and it made me want to vomit. I would call places and ask "does my kid have to wear make up during performances?" and the overwhelming answer was "yes but it's all in FUN".

I am very anti Bailey attending a dance school where she has to wear make up and have her hair up in a nauseously tight bun to be able to perform with her class. I get it, I do. Kinda. They have to look uniform. Whatever. But in no way, shape or form, is my kid going to be a part of something where she has to look a certain way to be allowed on stage. No. She doesn't need to ever think that she isn't beautiful just the way she is and with make up and hair rules being enforced I think that's what they're telling kids.

You worked really hard to learn this dance but to be able to show it to everyone you need to slap on some sparkle and shine. You'll look really pretty! Like a princess!

Bite me in the fucking ass.


So... back to the fight. Husband didn't get it. So I showed him these images on the websites I'd found. Young girls with impossibly long lashes {obviously fake} and foundation and hair so tight I felt sick just looking at it. And, yet, still, nothing from him.

But if it's fun what harm is there?

And I gave him my reasons and I pointed out that most of these photos were clearly also photo shopped {because perfection} and it made me sick and there was no way Bailey was being a part of that. He reasoned that surely they didn't have to all look like that. So I made him call a dance school in our area.

Just for performances. The kids love it.

And then, finally, some agreement but also -- but if Bailey wants to do it...

So I screamed and I cried and then I decided I wanted to have a shower to get away from him because he was being gross and then we argued some more while I was naked and sobbing in the shower. Lovely.

He eventually got it in the end and I eventually decided that he wasn't a gross idiot head. But, man, it took him a while and I hated him there for a bit.

For {almost} 5 years we had it pretty good didn't we? No real fights about anything. No "you got more sleep"/"my day was harder than yours" cliched crap. Just simple easiness. And then we fight about makeup. Yup. Life isn't ridiculous at all is it?


friday five//random bobs

Some randomness for the end of the week --

I recently watched Death Becomes Her for the first time. After work one night, Husband, the dogs and I sat down and watched it and I am now obsessed. It's ridiculous and hilarious and gross. I adore the fact that there are people out there who can come up with stuff like this, not take themselves too seriously but still make a "must watch" at the same time. Give me your secrets.

Can not stop listening to Don't Stop Me Now. I've always been a Queen fan but have just recently come across this which has quickly become my new favourite. Currently a multiple times a day listen and I'm not sure I'll ever tire of it. How could you?

This stupid outfit I chose to wear for my birthday outing. Lazy Oaf dress {currently on sale!}, Converse shoes, Spangled glasses {no longer available, similar linked}, Skinnydip phone case {no longer available}. Ridiculous all around. Love it though.

Luka Chocolates in Wyong. Must visit. 
& their ice cream? Delicious. 

Vanilla Chocolate Poke Cake. Divine. Husband and B. outdid themselves with birthday cake amazingness. 


that married life//the stupidest thing

I was in bed one night when it hit me -- marriage is just the stupidest thing. Sure it really is lovely and wonderful and soppy soppy crap. But it's also really dumb and here's why --

In order to feel secure/fulfilled/happy in my marriage I need a few things:

1. Tea made for me {because making tea is really hard}
2. Love & support
3. One day a week while B. is at school that is reserved for naps & snuggles together

But there is one thing that makes me feel most special/loved/appreciated/content and it is, quite honestly, so dumb that I can barely get the words out.

It is...

Going to sleep at the same time. Together. Obviously. I don't know what it is but I adore the ritual of it. The mutual "time for bed!" and the brushing teeth, him taking the dogs out, me peeing one hundred times. And then we slip into bed together and I wedge the blanket firmly into my crotch. He gives me a kiss and says "happy dreams". I say goodnight to the dogs and that's it... We fall asleep together.

That's the end of the stupid/boring story.

We sleep.

And I love it.

I hate being married. I have now become so terribly lame and soppy that I barely recognise myself.


from the archives| being mum\\go your own way

*came across this piece on motherhood and felt the desperate need to share once again for sheer awesomeness --
Today I wanted to share some of the things I've learnt about being a mum to Bailey. Granted I've only been in this gig for 3 and a half years {over 4 if you count pregnancy} but parenting, so far, has been such a "meant-to-be" and fun experience and I do feel as though I have some wisdom and insight to share. Here goes nothing --

My first, and most important, piece of this is to go your own way. Trust your instincts. Listen to the well meaning people {ignore the idiots} but don't always jump on their wagon. Don't feel like you have to do it how your parents did, in fact do it the opposite {unless your parents were wonderful and if they were ignore me here, I won't mind}. But, honestly, if I went into parenting with my parents as role models I would have had an affair and left Bailey at 2 or I would have resorted to physical and emotional abuse. Anyway, moving on.

The piece of advice/the mantra I hate the most is: you aren't her friend, you're her parent. Why? Well, I like to think of Bailey as my friend. Yes, I have to send her to time-out or refuse her dessert sometimes but most often we have fun and just click. When we're together for a day out shopping we feel like pals. We hold hands. We giggle. I also have to recite "mum mantras" -- toilet first, then we'll play/two rides on the Peppa Pig ride is enough, etc. So, for me, parenting is all about being her friend and her parent.

I like to treat Bailey as an equal. I do not hit and we do not condone hitting in this house. Of course, I am extra sensitive to violence and physical contact like smacking but I do not believe that punishing your child for hitting another kid or you by hitting them back makes any sense at all. Seriously, has anyone thought that through properly? Also, I would never hit Husband, our dogs or any of my extended family or my friends so why can I hit Bailey? Because she ripped open my vagina? Seriously?

I don't claim any possessive rights over her. Yes, I am her mum and she is my daughter but she's also her own person and she doesn't owe me anything just because I gave birth to her. I want to earn this mother title, it's not an automatic right. I need to earn her respect just as much as she would mine. I also believe that I need to earn her love. Yes, my love for her was automatic and I would hope she loves me without questioning it but I don't think she should love me just because Husband and I decided to have a baby. She doesn't owe me anything.

Bailey is an individual - this I celebrate and, yes, sometimes it's harder than others. I hope I will continue to be someone who lets her be her and not push my beliefs on who she should be or what career she should have. I want her to be happy, healthy and love life. Yes, I have ideas of what this means -- drugs and alcohol are sore points for me and I know that I'd struggle to be accepting of these life choices -- but she needs to go her own way too.

I dream of Bailey growing up to be considerate and empathetic. Strong and sensitive. Not afraid to cry and not afraid to smile. To be proud and boastful when the occasion warrants and to know when it doesn't. To not be afraid of failure or success and all that wonderful stuff. But you know what else? I want her to be proud of her life choices if they involve wanting to take care of her family {if she so chooses to have one} like me. I want to her to see that, no matter what career path we go down, everyone is important and everyone should be valued.

So, whatever your values, your hopes, your dreams for yourself and your child/ren {current or to-be} just go your own way. This is one thing I feel confident {with this anxiety-riddled mind of mine} will make me a wonderful mum and Bailey a wonderful kid. Of course, you don't have to agree with my parenting style and that's okay because, hey, I don't agree with other people's either. I'm probably a bit too ridiculous in some aspects of my parenting style {not leaving Bailey for a night with someone other than Husband or myself being one} but I hope we can all agree that kids should be our equals and, as corny as it sounds, treated as we would like to be treated.

*I feel like I should sign off with the end but that would be weird wouldn't it? Yes it would.

& hey, share some thoughts {if you have them} why don't you?


friday five//2017 planner picks

I am currently on the 18 month planner train, however, I am still tempted by the 12 month versions that are currently making their way into stores for twenty seventeen. I love a good planner. Here are my top picks to help keep you organised for the upcoming year --

1. The Day Designer -- such a wonderful concept and the perfect planner for the endless list maker {preorder for 2017}
2. Kikki-K Sweet Weekly Diary -- Kikki-K does sweet better than anyone else & this planner is perfectly whimsical
3. Productivity Planner -- now that I have discovered that Anthropolgie stocks a wide range of planners {and other office accessories} I am obsessed. This productivity take on a planner is perfect
4. Midnight Planner -- Rifle Paper Co. just never get it wrong do they? A planner that looks like a gorgeous hardback book is a must for on-the-go
5. Happy Planner Kit -- if you're new to planning {or just adding to your planner family} you can't say no to this planner kit. You get a 12 month planner, stickers and other goodies -- win/win/win


mental health//on depression

Here's the thing -- depression comes in all shapes & sizes. I don't speak for everyone here but here are some thoughts --

Depression is exhausting. A constant battle every single day to get out of bed, to put on a fake smile, and be a parent/wife/go to work/whatever. To not be tempted by the deliciousness of sharp objects against your flesh. 

Depression and anxiety feels like a big fucking joke doesn't it? One medication helps with the depression but you are so constantly anxious that you need to switch and then that one helps with the anxiety but not the depression. And, so, for months and months you spend most of your time in bed, scared to leave your sanctuary and when you finally get up you're terrified to leave your house because you feel safe here. But don't get any ideas about inviting people over because people in your space makes the walls start closing in and you can't breathe and you get dizzy and you feel as if you're going to die.

Yet, you can't tell anyone because your head warns you against it. They'll take Bailey away from you. They'll laugh. They don't care. So you shut yourself off and hope that people will understand because, hey, they know bits and pieces, the diagnosis at least. But they don't get it and everything falls apart so you retire to bed and shrink further into yourself, vowing to never let anyone in because you're a mess.

You can't take your child to school because being outside, or the mere thought of it, gives you terribly vivid of flashes of her being struck by a car, bleeding, dying in your arms. And when you get the bright idea to take her to the park and, you know, have fun {remember that?} your brain decides to show you images of your child being gutted by some crazed park killer so you stay home. Depression keeps you at home while your family has fun without you. I wonder how I get that to stop?

Therapy is currently useless.

Medication is helping keep the waves less rocky. Keeping sharp objects away a lot less, I guess.

Yet, life keeps going and people are mean. People leave and people die and more reasons to believe your head, that the world would be better off without you, continue to pop up at every turn. 

And I'm just tired...


that married life//sex & vomit

I'm not one to generally believe in "the one" because it's corny and I hate that shit. I'm also a pessimist and pretty unforgiving. Combine that with anxiety and depression and my future, in the darkest parts of my head at least, looks pretty grim. Regardless, there is a moment in my life, some eleven-ish years ago when I looked at this nineteen year old nerd and thought: he's the one.

We had started dating weeks earlier and, for some idiotic reason had decided to wait to have sex for the first time so it was "special" {gross}. He was fine with it. I was not. I was seventeen and impatient and going without sex for a month was torture on my poor sensitive soul. The first time we actually planned to "do it" I decided it would be fine to drink this beer and guarana concoction. I don't remember how much I drank or what inspired me to be so stupid. What I do recall was vomiting so attractively on his carpeted bedroom floor. Biggest pile of vomit ever.

Husband held my hair, undressed me {ooh!} and took me to the shower. I couldn't stand so he washed me and then after the shower he dried me, got me re-dressed, made sure my hair wasn't soaking wet and then, to work he went on the mound of vomit. Details are a little fuzzy of this night but this I remember vividly. At the time I didn't think much of it. Most likely because all my brain cells were dead. But later, and still, now, I look back and realise that this is the moment I knew Husband was "the one" {if there is such a thing}.

He has continued to hold my hair as I vomit {more so lately and not because of beer} and he has remained that lovely guy who is always there to take care of me. I do adore my nerdy hair holder.

So here's a tip -- marry someone who will hold your hair when you vomit and who'll clean you up without coping a feel.

That's a special one from me to you.