Some Done, Some Not So Done.

I didn’t wake up at 8:30 today. I woke up once at 9 to test my car and when it sat there shaking for three straight minutes after I turned the key, I caved and crawled back in to bed next to Babe (who is off today). He was up shortly after, and I continued to sleep until 11 or so. 

I did manage to get up, get some detergent and cross a few loads of laundry off my to-do list. The girls and I even got  the livingroom clean before they went off to spend the night with my grandmother. 

Other than that, Babe and I just spent some time together. I wanted to do my open letter to him today but with him at the house all day, I knew I wasn’t going to get any time to be with my thoughts. It’s not that I worry he’ll read it, I just don’t like anyone reading over my shoulder. Can anyone honestly say their best work is done with someone standing behind them? 

I’d say today was definitely a step in the right direction. Tomorrow will be better. My favorite part of the cute little sticky notes for my Happy Planner are that I can move a task over if I need to. And so, my Open Letter Challenge will begin tomorrow when I don’t have to be questioned about what I’m writing about.


A Small, Possibly Meaningless Update 

Earlier today I rambled on about my lack of motivation to do, well, anything at all. After logging off the computer, I snuck back in to my room and immediately logged on to Overwatch. Endlessly going through game after game gets so repetitive it truly feels as if I could go through a couple rounds with my eyes shut. I finally told myself enough times that I wasn’t actually having fun and turned my game off. 

I decided to tackle my planner issue. Why should something as minimal as a box have a hold on my ability to be a more productive person? I LOVE my Happy Planner and, when I actually make a habit of planning, I get shit done with it! I opened up to the start of this upcoming week and got started. I’m more of a day-by-day planner, it gives me time every day to release a little creativity and productivity. I have made it a weekly goal to be up by 8:30 every morning. If by some miracle my poor excuse of a car decides to start up without any issue, I want to be up early enough to get the girls to school. (I say school but they are too young. It’s a daycare that will transition in to school up until 3rd grade, and then they will be entering the public school system.) This is going to be tough. My depression is full force in the morning. This is the time I feel the heaviest. 

Mondays are for new beginnings. I want this to be the week I finally change for the better. I hope that by blogging about this journey, I have found another means of accountability for myself. 

The beginning of my week via my Happy Planner. Notice my reminder to post my open letter tomorrow. Also in the shot: my heart-shaped basket I told you about, complete with my 12 rolls of washi tape (sad, I know) and in the corner you can see part of the infamous box that has frightened me away from my planning. Not anymore! How silly of me to be saddened by a box. 

Starting Tomorrow

To make sure that I write at least once a day, I am going to begin an “open letter” challenge tomorrow. I might do more than one in a day (if I feel like it). I have been trying to be an active blogger for several years now, but motivation comes and goes as often as my mood swings. I figure this will open my heart and my mind to get back in to the swing of writing daily, something I haven’t done since I graduated high school.

Anyway, here’s the list in case anyone else would like to participate! I found it on Pinterest.


Procrastination At Its Finest

20161127_165002It’s amazing how even the most random things can inspire you. This is a drawing of a “map” that my youngest daughter just finished. Normally, maps lead you to something right? I can’t tell where this one begins and where I need to go to find my treasure. I left my imagination back in my childhood, so her trails are obviously just scribbles to me. I do see a something though; I see more of a blueprint for what’s currently going on inside my head.

As my post suggests, I am procrastinating from doing something. I’m sure you’re dying to know what. I’d love to tell you, but I’m just not able to pinpoint one certain thing I should be doing. So, for the sake of not leaving anything out, let’s just say I’m actively avoiding my day-to-day life. If you look back a couple of posts, you can read just a snippet of the darkness that likes to show up on my shoulders at any given moment. Being at war with your own mind has got to be one of the most exhausting trials one can encounter.

Yesterday, I pulled my Happy Planner out of the cardboard box I had been keeping it in. (I highly suggest one if you’re interested in keeping better track of your day! I love mine, even if I sometimes forget to use it.) The box, while not really that important, is probably something that should be thrown away just because of the negative feeling I get when handling it. It was the box that the company I was working for used to pack up and mail all the stuff I had left in my desk before I never showed up for one of the four hour shifts they had decided to leave me with during the week. I kept it, as it was big enough for my planner as well as my little heart-shaped basket that kept my washi tape and favorite pen. A prime example of my depression messing with me without my noticing: I avoid going near the box now. It reminds me of a job I had and loved, a job I made the choice to leave. Something so meaningless has seemingly disabled me from going about my day normally.

Anyway, back to my planner. I filled out (in pretty great detail) all that I had planned to accomplish on this lovely Sunday. I was going to fold those clothes that had been sitting in multiple laundry baskets around Babe and I’s tiny room. I was going to pick up the room and even look for some bed sheets that would actually fit on our bed (somebody might have burned a hole in the sheets we already had) so we could stop sleeping on a bare mattress with a heavy comforter. I was going to have the girls tackle the livingroom along with their bedroom and their play room, all of which are absolutely covered in toys and blankets from their “forts”.

I went to bed fairly early (for me), a little past midnight. Babe and I slept through the alarm and he was almost late for work. I woke up at 11:30, which is an accomplishment considering I wouldn’t normally be greeting the day until at least an hour later. (Another reason not having a job is killing me? I find no urgency to get out of bed.) I sat up and attempted to rub out the sleep from the corners of my eyes, determined to get started on my to-do list I had so eagerly prepared the night before. I knew that sleeping in meant he took himself to work and I was going to be without a car for the day. If I wanted anything from the store, I would have to hope that his dad was already planning on getting out of the house and I could ask him to get it for me. His little truck is a stick shift. My cousin, who taught me how to drive, skipped over teaching me how to drive a standard. Something tells me he was already paralyzed with fear to have to teach me an automatic.

I have what can only be described as an extreme caffeine addiction. Hell, it’s 6 pm and I’m sipping on a Monster as I write this. It can get a little out of hand at times but considering all the nasty stuff I could have chosen to be addicted to, I say I’m still coming out on top. So when I crawled out of bed and to the kitchen, you can only imagine my absolute disappointment to find less than half a cup of coffee left in the still on coffee maker. I poured the remainder of the coffee and got everything ready to brew a new pot. Water was in, filter was in. I opened the Folgers can (gross) to find NOTHING. My disappointment turned to a dull rage as I rushed back to my room. Okay no coffee, at least I can have a cigarette. Again I was wrong. Babe had taken the last of our Newports to work with him. I couldn’t be mad though, he did have to work a double today. I rolled my eyes knowing that him being at work meant I was going to have to ask his dad to pick me up a pack and tell him he would get paid back when Babe got home. He agreed. He left for the store when I had a brain fart and thought “Hey I can get some money out of my change jar and go to the gas station for a Monster,” forgetting I was without a car. By the time I got ahold of his dad on the phone to ask him to get me one, he was already pulling in to the driveway. Still no caffeine, but at least I had nicotine.

After my first cigarette of the day, I decided to get started on the laundry. About halfway through the first basket of laundry, all the clothes started smelling as if they had already been worn. Mixed baskets piss me off more than I can explain to you. I hung up what was clean and took the rest of the dirty clothes to the laundry room. Pouring the remainder of the baskets in the washing machine, I came to the realization that we were out of laundry detergent! So already, I had to put off the laundry part of my to-do list. I took to cleaning up the room. I made an improvement and ruined it as I tore through the room trying to find some sheets. After about 20 minutes, I gave up. Another task to that I had no choice but to put off.

I raised my white flag. The darkness laughed triumphantly as I turned on my Xbox to drown myself in mindlessly killing fake enemies. I haven’t had a new game in months, so I just keep playing the same games over and over again hoping for a new outcome. I didn’t care as long as I didn’t have to think about all the stuff I wasn’t able to get accomplished today.

I made myself a “weekly goals” portion at the beginning of each week in my planner. One of my goals has been to write once a day. Something I love to do is made in to a chore just by making it a goal of my week. So when SG brought me her map, I knew I had to stop trying to escape my mind and embrace it. My daughter drew my jumbled mind by accident but she helped me more than she knows.

Just blurting out all my disappointments of the day has helped clear my mind. Just writing this post has made me realize that 1. I need to get rid of the box I keep my planner in! I’m not getting anything down in it because my subconscious is telling me to stay away from that stupid box. 2. I am capable of waking up before noon, I just need to force myself up! Continuing to let the darkness lay on top of me is NOT comfortable, so I need to get my ass up and moving. 3. Procrastinating does nothing but upset me more. I can’t fight a battle while I’m on my back not doing a damn thing.

Thanks for listening. And if you didn’t, I’ll just thank myself for being open and honest to the only audience that matters right now: Me.

Shit My Daughters Do (Part 1 of ??)

Let me just start off by saying I absolutely LOVE my girls. At five and four years old, they are two of the most beautiful little girls I have ever laid eyes on. SL, my little freckle-faced diva, can already work her way around a smart phone and is always ready to take center stage for new guests. SG has such dark curls and beautiful blue eyes that really just pop out at you. You will almost always see her with an animal of some sort, either of the stuffed or living variety. All adorable aside, my daughters also do some crazy shit. Whether it’s hilarious, disgusting, over-the-top dramatic, or just plain pitiful, mama will always have a story to tell. 

Tonight’s story is a little gross and kinda funny. As I’m sure a lot of parents (if not all) can relate, my daughters LOVE taking frequent trips to the bathroom when we are out to eat. My kids, probably unlike yours, enjoy bathrooms too much. They literally compare all the bathrooms we go in to and one of the first questions asked about a new place is “Do they have bathrooms there?” Weird, I know. The strangest part is this: when we are out and about, the girls argue over who gets to flush the toilet. It’s almost a boxing match every time and I really cannot wrap my head around it. 

I wish that were the end of the weirdness. At home , SG seems to forget that toilets even have to be flushed. All throughout the day we will go to the bathroom and be greeted with turds when we lift up the toilet seat. I just don’t get it! I guess I should just  be grateful that we are past pooping in our pants.

And this concludes the first of many tales of the shit my daughters do.


Depression is a hassle. I thought I had taken control of my illness, but over the past year I’ve felt it dancing around me, laughing as it pushes me down. I’ve practiced breathing to control my outbursts and mental breakdowns. I’ve tried to make life a little less messy and more put together by purchasing a “Life Planner” and while I’m enjoying the creative aspect of said planner, I can’t manage to make a plan every day. Even on the good days where I fill out my schedule with great detail, I feel as if I’m pointlessly planning. It’s embarrassing to make a to-do list just to have most items on the list put off for another day.

I lost my job a few weeks ago. To be fair, it was my fault that I lost it. I stopped showing up after my full time hours were cut by over half. My paycheck didn’t even cover the amount of gas my poor car was guzzling to make it back and forth to the office every day. My boyfriend kept telling me it wasn’t worth it and I should just quit. My orange monster of a car was starting to overheat every day and even died on me while I was on my way home a few times, causing me to need a rescue ride. I really didn’t want to leave this job. It was the most enjoyable job I had had in quite a while. My first legitimately set schedule meant I never had to worry about what shift I would be working on this week and whether or not I would be able to make it to the girls’ class parties this year. After I made the decision that this job wasn’t worth it anymore, my depression decided to take even more control. I think I was unemployed for two weeks before I decided to start looking for another job. I just kept reminding myself how tough it’s going to be to find a good job like this one.

I can’t get myself to sleep until after 1 in the morning. I set an alarm for 9 every morning and find myself hitting the snooze button until after 12 pm. Every night I tell myself “Okay, tomorrow is the day I get it together,” and the following day I find myself snoozing the day away until Babe finally makes me get up.
I look around at my cramped, messy room and cringe knowing full well I need to clean it up yet I am lacking the motivation to do so. To everyone around me I’m too lazy and no one understands why. The frustration is evident on Babe’s face when he comes home from a shift to an unmade bed and 3 baskets full of laundry that could be clean, could be dirty, could be both. Even though he won’t say anything to me, I know I should be doing a much better job around the house (especially while I don’t have a job).

My parenting is really lacking too. The girls are getting more screen time than they should be. With my car being more of an inconvenience than anything at the moment, I haven’t been able to take them to school every day. When I ask my two closest- in terms of distance- relatives to help me out with rides for me girls I always get one of two responses: “I am out of town for work” from one and “You know I don’t drive outside of my city” from the other. Yet, at the end of the week, when it has been discovered that I only got the girls to school for two out of the five weekdays, I am hit with reminders of how important their education is and how I should be taking this seriously. Between not having a job and not having a reliable car, I’m about to go crazy with these girls.

Living with my boyfriend’s parents is getting to me as well. Some part of me feels as if our relationship won’t be able to flourish as long as we continue to rely on the help of them. No bills means no reason to budget our money. Get paid one day, spend all the cash by the next. Most people take opportunities like these to save money for a place of their own. We talk about it but I never see any action taken. I am in no way solely putting this blame on him either; I am just as guilty. I guess I am really over this rut we seem to be in and I hope he is too.

I guess I just needed to get some stuff of my chest. I created this blog as an outlet and I haven’t been using it as one. I guess that’s mainly because the only computer we have is in the livingroom and privacy is something of a myth in this house.

I am ready to push this depression out from on top of me. I just wish I knew where to begin.


*Before we begin, I’ll have to ask you to bear with me as I’m posting this from my daughter’s tablet. Our computer keyboard and mouse haven’t had batteries for weeks!*

I joined the blogging community two nights ago. My lack of posts isn’t due to a fear to blog, it’s due to an overload of memories and topics I want to get out of my head! Honestly, it’s been overwhelming. After a couple of days mulling it over I decided the most appropriate place to start, for me, is to answer the question, “Why?”

Why do I want to start this blog?

Answer one: THERAPY! Blogging, or journaling in general, is so therapeutic and easily one of the cheapest alternatives to regularly visiting a professional. Following my mother’s suicide, I was sent to every counselor, psychiatrist, and support group you could think of. I was almost always advised to keep a journal. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t. Even in the times I decided I was going to keep a journal, I held myself back from revealing my true thoughts for fear they would be read by my guardians and shared with my therapist. A mourning adolescent can be quite dramatic (with every right to be!); and while I felt that some days I would have been better off on “the other side” with my mom, I was smart enough to know if I actually wrote that down I could very well wake up in a mental institution for a while. However, as I grew older, keeping my emotions in landed me with clinical depression and crippling anxiety (a truly awful combination). I feel ready to finally conquer my illnesses, one post at a time.

Answer two:  I have stories to tell! Good, bad, and ugly. My head has been a lockbox of memories and- aside from the few I’ve shared to get a good score on the state test, whatever it’s called now- I have never been ready to share them. This is due mostly to the embarrassment and shame in the choices I have made. About a year ago, my eyes were opened and things just clicked; I knew why certain things had happened to me and why I made the choices I had made. What good is a revelation if you don’t share it?

Answer three: I have gotten almost TOO lazy with my writing. I couldn’t tell you the last thing I have written that was longer than a paragraph. I have allowed myself to be desensitized through social media (as most have) and, as a lover of the written word I find that unacceptable. I am ready to build my passion back up.

Answer four: I am hoping to keep track of some goals I want to set for myself. If I’m able to hold myself accountable through my blog, maybe I’ll see some improvement or at least take a step in the right direction!

Answer five: I really need to give my eyes a rest from mindlessly watching the television.

Answer six: Just as I was inspired by an old friend to start this blog, I hope I will be able to to inspire someone. And if not, at least I’ll have fun doing it!

Oh, and a bonus answer for you!: I recently had what can only be described as a “falling out” with a dear friend, someone I have considered my best friend for over a decade. I have found myself with no one to talk to, so I have chosen to talk to you!

Navigating my way through depression and life as a single mom.