the carousel never stops spinning

there’s no getting off. 

its a never-ending cycle of shit that you’re supposed to survive. 

but surviving isnt living. 

i want to believe there’s more than angst to be felt. that people truly care. 

but i dont. i dont believe in much of anything anymore. not even myself. 

i dont believe that theres a reason for everything. bad shit just happens. a lot. and as much as people tell you that they’ll be there and always love you, they usually arent and dont. they love you when its convenient for them. when it means accepting a difference of opinion or going out of the way, people let their selfish pride rule. they tell themselves they’re too busy, they dont “owe you”. truth is for all the shame we feel over a life lost to suicide, very few people actually care enough to save a life when push comes to shove. 

hell, maybe nobody is worth saving. if “god” cant get off his ass to save the lives of children dying and return them whole bodied to their grief stricken, heartbroken mothers, who the hell else is worth it?

how do you keep riding this ride? 

and why? 

This is what gets me: Part Three

This story will always be one of lost and found. I will always put it down only to find myself stumbling over it again. All my life, I will remember one thing. All his life, he will remember another.

But Im ok with getting lost, just to find myself and find my way again. I have to fall to rise above it all. Diving in without my wings if it means that I relearn to fly each time. Rising like a  pheniox through the fire, through the relit flames. Im grateful for each time that I get to discover, once more, what life is other than a cage to me. 

Prom

As Pickle is nearing the end of his senior year of high school, prom is in the air. Pickle won’t be attending as he attended the Heart of Rock and Roll prom this last fall, but he is going to After Prom at Cedar Point the following day.

All of this got me thinking about my own prom.

Even though it will be 20 years ago come next summer, 20 YEARS, I remember it like it was yesterday …

Before I even started getting ready, my date had a dozen, long stem roses delivered to my house. I was still in my pajamas but I felt like a queen. I went to a salon for the first time that day. Got to be waited on by two incredibly gorgeous, well put-together ladies. One working my hair, while the other worked on my nails and make up. This would be a fantasy I would not ever again reach, even on my wedding day.

Then I went home and put on that gown. Classic Hollywood black, with Audrey Hepburn gloves to match and for good measure in attempting to leave my little girl ways behind, a low cut and high slit, paired with velvet pumps.  I don’t remember what he said when he saw me that evening for the first time, but the look on his face, I’ll never forget.

 I remember trying to be very sophisticated as we made our promenade into dinner. All eyes smiling on the two of us together, wanting to make him proud. I also remember the highlights of the actual  dance. Getting our pictures taken. Rocking out with my girlfriends but taking every opportunity to slow dance with him.

But my favorite memories came after we left. Just the two of us in the backseat of a stretch limo while taking in the sights and city lights of Washington D.C. after dark. All the memorials being lit up. The busyness of Georgetown on a weekend night. It all felt like a dream and I didn’t want the magic of it to ever end.

There’s something very magical about being young, in love and sharing a night like that. Something that can never be replicated. While a part of that girl still lives in me, wanting that kind of magic to grace my days again and no matter what happened in that relationship with that boy in the days and years that were to follow, I will always hold those memories close to my heart and be so appreciative of that night … and that magic.

Because of that night, I will always believe in magic.

14 Strong Motivators To Get The Most Of Life

What would you add to this list of motivators?

Donna George Blogs

Bike at the beach

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.  – Wayne Gretzky

Did anyone ever tell you something that changed your life, or greatly influenced you in some way? Maybe they shared some valuable wisdom you keep tucked away in your back pocket. Most likely, this knowledge led to some great shortcuts for you.

Life is constantly changing. It’s either turning for the better or slowly towards the worst. The question becomes, Is there a finish line? For most of us, it’s about wanting more and more from life, and having the skills and determination to overcome the challenges and  stay focused on the goals.

We all know motivation is different for each person. There is no proverbial “one size fits” all measuring stick. Ultimately, at the end of the day, it’s up to us to decide if we are settling for less or if we can accomplish something more significant. There is…

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Just another manic Friday?

I am incredibly symptomatic following Wednesday’s epidural steroid injection. I’ve been agitated and pacing. Broke out into a hot, rash all over my face last night. Had the hardest time sleeping, constantly being roused from the edge of sleep with palpitations and chest pain. My body seems to be feeling the need to get up and run, which I guess is no surprise considering how much I’ve been laid up with the back pain prior, but it’s not allowing me to let my spine heal so that I can.

I swear, I feel like I’m caught in a perpetual Catch 22.

Trying to avoid pain medication and the potential fatal mix that can come with my other medications which all somehow fall into the central nervous system depression category, but still it. Trying to workout and lose weight without adding insult to injury. Trying to eat better but not being able to eat the fruits and veggies I crave while on a low residue, gastroparesis diet. Feeling as though I was doing much better at self-medicating with marijuana when I was younger, but not being able to do so because of my contract with pain management from which I need these epidural steroid injections, oh and that illegal thing. The same steroids that exacerbate my mental health issues and insomnia.

This is why Im a strong proponent for, at the VERY least, medical marijuana. Alcohol would be a better drug to scheduled illegally. If we can do better than Big Pharm, naturally, we should. Bottom line.

I am done with this vicious cycle and I just want off this nightmarish merry-go-round.