Attack of a killer Chipmunk

This is what I get for trying to be a good citizen and recycl all my coke cans and water bottles. This morning, I was taking the recycling bin to the curb for pick up and saw a chipmunk hiding behind it. The first thing that came to my mind was NOT Alvin and the Chipmunks singing Bad Day by Daniel Powter in their cute squeeky little voices. The first and ONLY thing I could think of was teeth. Sharp little teeth. Ow.

So, I threw the bag of cans into the bin from a distance. It didn't scare it away. Darn. I threw an empty coke can into the bin from a distance and it worked. It ran out and danced around my feet "squeek squeek squeek!!" I did my best bug dance and ran inside screaming. AHH!!!

Seriously. I hate hate hate anything smaller than me that lives outside. I don't mind it being within a 10 foot radius, but too close is too much. I hate bugs, fish, squirrels, birds, CHIPMUNKS. But mostly just the bugs.

My sister in law had to go outside and move the bin for me, seeing as I was thoroughly traumatized by that chipmunk. Makes you think twice about saving the environment, doesn't it?

Maybe I looked something like this:

I...what?!

Any normal morning for me begins with a trip to the gas station and a MEGA Monster Energy drink, and usually a pack of cigarettes (if I'm out). My normal diet consists of whatever junk food I can lay my hands on and sometimes skipping meals because I'm too busy to stop whatever I'm doing to eat.

Therapist Lady told me to cut out the caffine. NOW. What?! Okay, so apparently these anxiety attacks I'm having are being caused by the 100+ ounces of caffeine I'm consuming daily. The energy drinks are "HORRIBLE!" for me and it's hurting my body "in the long run".

Me: "Like smoking?"
Therapist Lady: "Okay, that's a totally different rant entirely, but yes. Quit"

She knew that it would be easier to get me to quit Pepsi's and energy drinks quicker than the nicotine. I, however, have still had a hard time adjusting to this. So, I'm proud to say that I have only had 1 caffeinated beverage today. A 20 ounce coke. I had it at the latter part of my day.

I love this picture (minus the bit about weed). It will suit me one day when I'm totally off caffeine and dying for a frappacino from Starbucks.

As far as my diet, or lack thereof, is concerned: We'll take baby steps.

Okay, I feel like a total dork. Apparently I got my first award and I had no idea what to do with it. After doing just a few minutes of quick research I quickly learned that I won an award from
this lovely lady right here

First I would like to say that I feel a willing obligation to offer my support when I know someone needs it. Especially when I can relate to the person in some way. A strong way. I may not be able to give the person so many encouraging words, but I can let them know they aren't alone. So, thank you Lizz for this. You are a strong (and talanted, might I add) blogger that I've been fortunate enough to share moments with.

10 days and counting.

Today I'm reminded that my "due date" will be in just a short 10 days. I'm working on doing what my therapist told me to do & letting down my emotional wall that I've built over the last couple of months.

An old friend [aka crazy ex bestie] got pregnant right after I did. Her daughter was born right before my oldest son. I see pictures of her bulging belly and am reminded that I'm supposed to be 2 months bigger than that. I'm very jealous and I hold a lot of resentment towards her.

I'm crossing my fingers that I can cry again. It's been a long time. Too long.

Missing the Military life

OORAH!

I have been fortunate enough to meet some of the strongest women I will ever have the opportunity of meeting. These girls are not only Marine Wives, they are also the backbone of their families, the best support system to fellow wives, and the most down to earth girls ever.

So when I left Camp Lejeune and separated from my friends, I felt like I was losing a huge part of my family. We not only shared with each other; we had our children together, we laughed, and cried together. Together we made one hell of a group. People wished they could have been part of us.

So, from the left to the right I will explain to you the history of my family (my girls). On the far left is Mrs. Shana Irwin, mother of Americus, wife of USMC vet. Cotty Irwin. Her daughter was born 2 months before Christian. She's currently pregnant with her second daughter and is expected to deliver sometime in December. & she now lives in Indiana with her family.

Second is Mrs. Ilene Gilmore, mother of Lilly, wife of USMC Corporal Josh Gilmore. Lilly was born 10 days before Christian. We were actually in the hospital at the same time, on different floors. She's my Twilight buddy, my gossiping pal. She's still at Camp Lejeune but in February 10 her family will be getting stationed in HAWAII! I'm very jealous about this. :)

The third beautiful lady is Mrs. Lindsay Otto, mother of Madison Otto, wife of USMC vet. Logan Otto. Madison was a premie and born 2 months early in August 2008. You'd never know it by her size now. She's a healthy chunky little girl. Her family is out of the MC as well and is now living with their family in North Carolina (just a different town).

Well, the girl on the farthest right is myself. You guys already know enough about me.


These are our beautiful children December 2008. My son, Christian, was only 3 months old. He's in the strips. Going clockwise there's the delightful Lilly, Ilene Gilmore's daughter. Then across from Christian is Americus, Shana Irwin's gorgeous daughter. On the left is Madison, Lindsay Otto's beautiful joy.

Our children grew together for the first months of their existance. It breaks my heart that they won't ever see each other again. But that's the Military for you.

We would primp for our husbands at the annual USMC Ball. Getting our hair done, having our husbands watch the babies, and getting a break for a whole day was something we didn't get often. But we took full advantage of it. Oh, I really just miss the military.

So, I told my husband that I wanted to join the Marine Corps since he's out & that was a BIG FAT NO! A girl could try anyway right?

I will never forget these girls. They are a huge chapter in the building of my life and character.

Insanity of the fish...

"Whenever someone sorrows, I do not say, "forget it," or "it will pass," or "it could be worse" -- all of which deny the integrity of the painful experience. But I say, to the contrary, "It is worse than you may allow yourself to think. Delve into the depth. Stay with the feeling. Think of it as a precious source of knowledge and guidance. Then and only then will you be ready to face it and be transformed in the process." Peter Kotestenbaum

First let me start by saying bad day. It's been one, alright, and I'm not sure how I'll turn this into a positive blog by the end. But I'd like to, so that I can go to bed with piece of mind

I'll go ahead and tell you now that I started a new blog. I call it my "Creative Therapy". My therapist told me to start a journal and I hate hand witting anything, so I just added another blog.

I went to see my therapist today. She's awesome and I would recommend her to anyone except for the fact that if everyone started going to her, I'd see her quite a bit less often. So thanks but no thanks. I'll leave her name undiscovered. I knew when I woke up that this would be a hard day for me.

Therapy for me is all about reliving the last several months, the feelings I've felt. Reliving the pain and suffering. The heartache and most of all, the loss. She would be happy to know that I'm feeling this way; except, I absolutely hate it.

I built a wall that I thought no one could penetrate. No one except a woman with a degree and words that will put you into a trance instantly. She'll relax you at the snap of her fingers. She's just that good. Then before you know it, you're spilling your guts out to her. Telling her all the rotten feelings you've got harbored deep down inside you. By the end of the session, you leave feeling worse than you did before you got there, which is ironic considering the whole point of cognitive therapy is to make you feel better about yourself.

Apparently, I'm living in denial. I'm refusing to go through the grieving process, which is okay with me since I don't have to cry. And according to her I'm throwing myself into work, school, and my son. I'm not giving my soul and heart enough time to heal. I'm running 2,000 miles an hour on empty. Eventually I'm going to break down. (All this is true and correct, but again... I'm really okay with that).

Therapist: "You need to get angry. Physically and mentally. You need to hit things, throw things, yell, scream."

She told me all the ways in which I could do these things without hurting anything or anyone. Hitting pillows, throwing ice in a tub, screaming in your car, running, etc. She also told me that I need to start eating more. Not that I wasn't eating before. I would skip the first two meals of the day and eat supper. I'm also a heavy caffeine addict and she wants me off of it because it's causing me anxiety attacks and is going to severely damage my functioning level if I don't stop now.

So, after my session-I went out and bought a big ice cold Pepsi. It was awesome. I didn't do it just to defy her. I don't know why I did it. It's really the same thing with smoking.

Mind: you need to quit.
Body: uh, no?!
Mind: You're only hurting yourself
Body: So what? I need the nicotine. I need the fix
Mind: Seriously? get over yourself
Body: ::cha-ching:: swipes card for a pack and an energy drink::

I think my bosses may think I'm slightly insane, though. Today I brought them my work excuse which had "Alabama Psychiatric Services" printed on the front with 3 more therapy dates within the next 2 months (they didn't know that they were for different reasons: Marriage Counseling, Therapy, Psychiatry). I was half tempted to say:
"Look, I'm not some bipolar schizophrenic working for you. I've just got issues, okay?"

But I figured I'd let it be and play the crazy card for a while to see how far it gets me. I'm pretty interested since they like to play practical jokes on ME and I'm curious to see what they would do if I just started acting loony on them one day.

So, today at work I was thinking about goldfish. Relating my life to them. Wondering how we're the same. Well I think we're as much the same as brother and sister (minus the gills and water)

I got two fish a couple weeks ago from the state fair. I knew they wouldn't live long. With my luck, NO fish live long... but these were Fair Fish and had an even less chance of surviving.

You live your life under a microscope getting watched by strangers. You feel trapped, obviously. Your life under constant scrutiny. You can't make a move without someone noticing.

Everyone expects you to fail because of your recent backgroudn (in this case, the fish has been traumatized by being moved from the fair to the glass bowl at a home. In my case, my mother and son died in 2 months time).

If you don't fail, you're a freak. If you do fail, you'll meet everyone's expectations. Can't the fish get a break? Can't you just let it be without watching it every second of the day?

People are constantly criticizing the way I act. I'm not grieving yet so I must be insane. I'm acting normal, it's fake okay? I'll put on a social facade all day every day for the rest of my life if I must, but until the therapy works, we'll just stick with the plea of insanity. As far as the fish is concerned, well... my fish died. Hopefully I won't any time soon. I'm pretty sure I can make it through this hump in my life with lots of time and effort.

That's all. This post is lame. I know. :)