An open letter

This entry comes sooner than I thought. It was actually inspired by a conversation I had on the phone with my father the other night and a long conversation I had with myself in the shower tonight. Anyone who knows me, knows I think in the shower, I take a shower when I’m depressed and need to clear things out of my head. It had nothing to do with the routine of soap, shave, lather rinse and repeat but rather the solitary time where there is no glow of a computer screen, the booming music from the headphones, the clicking of the keys on the cellphone, there is just time to reflect. That is something I haven’t done for a long time, or when I do think or tell myself I’ve thought about it I sometimes get irrational and try to make excuses to stand behind what I say or my actions. I knew I had a point and it wasn’t just about showers, but I bet I had you scared for a moment that I would talk all about showers, huh?  Well no, but it was part of the story and offered ambiance for where I’m trying to go with for this blog.

I’ve always been a strong, loud mouthed and overly opinionated young woman. Yeah I threw in young there because I’m slightly freaking out that in a few short months I will be 26 and I won’t be graduating until I’m 27 which is close to 30 and I feel like a failure that I haven’t done this sooner or haven’t started the family life or searching for the man for the rest of my life.  Anyways, that’s for another entry. I’ve always jumped the gun on things and I fail to think about the repercussions and how it could affect others.  That’s not to say..okay this is where my entry gets confusing because I’m literally spewing out what I’m thinking at this exact time and not all of it is planned out, just the overall tone is what is planned. My thoughts and opinions are very much my own and I fully believe in voicing concerns and feelings freely. I hate feeling like I have to be reformed or caged to please others but this is where my father comes into play BIG TIME. He didn’t influence me to write this, he doesn’t even know I am, he doesn’t really know how well his words sink in with his children, but they do!  Alright anyways I’ve realized that I really need to stop and think if what I am say is really what I feel or if it’s in the heat of the moment

I don’t hold my breath, I don’t bite my tongue and I don’t back down to no one but again this is where I play two sides. I’m tough, I push people away considering I’ve seen the worst in people from the time I was younger than 3. People can say I don’t remember things all they want but the memories are imprinted in my brain and I get trust issues like nobody would believe. It’s also why I don’t date, I don’t let anyone in and when I did let someone in; they screwed up once and I shoved them so hard out of my life that there was no possible way they could ever get back. I started building walls as soon as I had him out the door. This is all beside the point and really off topic. I need to learn to be more zen and with holding onto this anger and confusion, these brick walls, these feelings of whatever I have I’m doing more harm than good. Not just to others but myself.  ANYWAYS. I’ve hurt people and I’ve said things I’m not proud of in the least bit.  I locked myself up at the first chance I could from ANY feelings and I never let them in. I love my family, it’s ridiculous how much I light up when I see my uncle (The other uncle I have isn’t in my life) I just have become so good at hiding it that I actually do stupid things like pretend I don’t like him or my grandma. I know they mean well, but I’ve guarded myself so long that it’s hard to let the walls down. I doubt either of them read this, and maybe it’s a good thing they don’t but if they do; I am completely sorry for my actions and words and I will spend the rest of my life tearing down walls and letting you all in and give myself a chance to have a few good moments with people I care about.  I really hope “It’s never too late” counts in this situation, because, my father is absolutely right and I need to learn to just chill out and not everything that is said is an attack against me.  Anyways, I can’t change that I said it and it either did or didn’t offend people, but I can say that I am deeply sorry that I said it and it had to even be a thought in my head.

 And dear father, I know you read these or Penne does, and I want to say thank you to the both of you for being there when it’s needed. I know I don’t really talk to Penne much but I do adore her so much for making you really happy and the best person you could possibly be. I love you very much. 2013 is all about change and being a better person, one step at a time but I will become a person people want to actually be around. Anyone else I have every offended or hurt by my words or actions, I love you and I cherish you for being in my life.

Till next time,  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Amanda.

Reflections of a hectic time.

I knew I was going to neglect this thing, but really I couldn't be blamed! I put full blame on life. I've been prepping whole heartedly into gearing up for my first year of college. I'm twenty-five and I haven't been in a class room since grade twelve ( seven years!!!) I'm nervous to be going back at such an older age but it's really to my benefit. You are never too old to go back and change your life to make your future better. Put in the application for my student ID. I had to make sure I got my immunizations up to date and a dreaded check up- I haven't been to the doctors in six years so I had to suck it up. I had to get a police record check, which now takes four-six weeks to get to you and no you can't pay extra to get it right away anymore and I start school in a month and still no police record in the mail! On top of that I had to take a first aid and level C CPR class for a weekend. I can now save people's lives from infant to adults! I had to do a blackboard class and register for orientation. The to do list before there are actual assignments thrown into my lap are chaotic. I still need to buy books (I have to wait for OSAP to kick in) and a book bag for school. There is also the joyous pain in the ass of spending roughly $100 on a bus pass + picture for next month. The whole reason I even went back to school or at least convinced myself to at least try and see what the stars align was the fact that I got laid off in May. If it wasn't for them letting me go I would never have had the courage to see if I could do better with my life; I would forever be working as the office bitch.

Another thing I've been too preoccupied with is Christmas. The shopping, the decorating the celebrations it's all so hectic even when you have nothing planned. I seem to have to plan for the planning of whatever it is I'm doing.  Last year I didn't feel the Christmas cheer but this year nothing excites me more than Christmas movies and decorating. I wanted to decorate starting December 1st weekend and REALLY deck the damn halls but I had my CPR training so I've been counting down to the weekend of the eight. Today (The seventh) we're relaxing before the big day tomorrow. I still have to pull everything out from storage and get the music ready, hot chocolate and everything else. The dogs are getting their Christmas on with their collars and as hectic as it is, I've never been more excited.  I'm even happy to sit there awkwardly and get back handed compliments from my dad's mom about my weight, hair, color of clothes, school, etc. No matter what I do, I know I have to ignore it and I really don't care what they say or think, but no matter what I always feel like I'm the black sheep, the outcast of the family. I'm looked down on or I don't do good enough by them because I don't have the same mom as my brothers. It's disheartening and I have voiced that feeling; but people seem to sweep it under the rug like I forgot to feel that way this year. Hells no; there's a reason why I refuse to spend Christmas eve or any family holiday with my Uncle and Grandmother under the same roof for longer than a few hours.

You can't chose your family and I do endure the one day to be able to see my father; who I can guesstimate that out of my entire life excluding the two and a half years I lived with my dad I have seen/been with my father collectively under ten years and it got even worse after he left the city and moved to Vancouver before he moved to New Brunswick. Now I'm lucky if I see him three times a year. I know as I grow older and my brothers do to we all have lives with school, work and life but a daughters first relationship with a man is her father and I sometimes feel like I really missed out. I love him more than I can ever express to him. Then there are my brothers. I would do anything for them and I really don't get a chance to see them if I don't see my father.  My youngest brother I see more than I see my middle brother. I'm the oldest just to clarify that.  My youngest goes to the college and lives in the same city as I do. My other brother lives with his mom a lot further away so to see him is harder. The youngest and me are a lot alike. We tell each other just about everything and there isn't much I don't know about him and he doesn't know about me. We view things the same way and both have a hard time with that side of the family.

The last ordeal I've been having to deal with is my hair. I've bleached my hair starting in September I think, roughly around there anyways. It was going great for a while then my friend who did my hair used a blow dryer on my hair while there was bleach on it and well it dried the bleach; making my hair instant straw. So I had to get a haircut, so my hair went from around my bust to my chin. Then as I'm trying to repair my hair  and deep condition it starts breaking off it random and lots of places to the point I can't even comb the hair I do have over to hide the spikes. So I had to shave my head. I will be taking the three week progress photo this Saturday (The eighth). I don't like my hair being shaved and it had nothing to do with it being socially unacceptable or unpretty for a girl to have no hair. I just don't like myself with short hair.  But I must say my hair is growing really fast, super healthy and I really love the color of my natural hair. So what do I do to cover up the fiasco that is my lack of/slowly growing in hair? I wear a wig of course! It's been three weeks and I wear my wig when I go out. I've learned not to wear it when home and to wear a tuque over my head. My great aunt was the one who came over and I had a hat on-refused to take it off. She asked what it was and coaxed me out of it so now I don't run into my room to shove a hat on my head every time someone knocks on the door. Not all of my family has seen me without my wig on, and I'll keep it that way until I get to a reasonable hair growth. For now-hello family that is reading this, my father has more hair than me and no you wont get to see it!

Until next time,
Amanda.

Time Wont Erase

It's been a while, or well a while for me since I last wrote anything in here and I swear it's for good reason, or well partial good reason. Part of me was unsure if I should keep writing because nobody out there reads it, then I remembered that this was going to be an online, open book journal that rather than spring for a book to lock everything away in a book and hope it beats having to pay for therapy I'd do it for free. The theme I'm giving this blog since everything seems to need a theme is "The inner workings of my eclectic mind." That sums up everything that will go in here. I must say, considering I'm writing another entry shows I'm sticking with this. I know people must think "It's only the second one." True, but if you know me, you know I either stick with something or give it up, I'm not half and half I go all in or all out. A lot of the time I go all in and end up getting hurt, but that's another entry for another time. When I ramble it usually means I'm trying to kill time, hoping people would forget what I was supposed to talk about and move onto other things. It's a safety mechanism I've held close to me for so many years. The title should give it away that I have something somewhat serious to talk about. What's the subject that's going to haunt these following paragraphs you might ask? Death, of course.

*DISCLAIMER: This entry deals and talks about very heavy subjects such as death, pain and suicide. If you can't handle it, please refrain from reading. You've been warned*

Not too long ago, I don't want to give dates and too many specifics to save my friend in case they don't want to be spoken about on such an open forum. I know, one follower only, but still, you just never know who is out there. Anyways, my friend lost her husband one day that deserved a much needed sleep in from both of them. Now I must tell you, before I go on just how much I love these friends. They were my salvation, person of humor and comfort when I needed it most. They opened my heart to so many things and showed me just how amazing Ohio really is. We lost him all too soon, now I can only tell you how I felt as I read the private message she sent me; I can't even begin to feel or express how she felt. I was in utter shock, I was actually on skype talking to one of my other friends when I was reading it. I went white in the face, my head began to spin and I had to reread and reread the words over again just to make sure I was grasping what was in front of me. I thought it was a joke, a sick joke or a hacker. Then my best friend called me to ask if I got the private message and it became all too real.  I went from promising them I would make it out to see then soon to no longer being able to have burping wars with one of them.

I cried myself to sleep that night, and a few more nights after that. I cried right up until the following Sunday actually. He was in my life such a short time, but the impact he had on me shook me to my core and I have a hard time fighting back tears as I right this. He was such a good man and had the kindest heart, he was always so positive no matter what hand was dealt to him. You laughed within moments of talking to him. The most amazing thing about him, that makes me have the most love and respect for him was how much he made my friend happy. Their road to be together was a long and tough one, but their relationship made me believe in true love and happiness. I can only hope to have what they had. So until next time my friend, "Everywhere I go
Every smile I see
I know you are there
Smilin back at me
Dancin in moonlight
I know you are free
Cuz I can see your star
Shinin down on me"

The next person I want to talk about is the hardest person to talk about, and yet the person I talk about the most. I believe in God, and I talk to him every night, and I beg him to send me this person in a dream or in spirit form, anything for a night just to be able to feel her around me. I believe in God whole heartidly but I have my demons I must battle. I'm talking about my mother. I don't have many memories about her, she was taken from me when I was six. I stopped living with her when I was three so the few memories I have are before I was three and very detailed. I hold onto those memories more than I hold my own safety. When you lose someone you love so much, you hold onto what you can so you never have to forget. My mother was far from perfect but she was damn beautiful. My family- my mother's side of the family anyways, have nothing but nice things to say. My father's side, well that's for another entry. She was a fighter and a strong willed woman. She was the first girl in her high school ( St. Paul's) to be on the all boys football team. She was proud of her family, loved her parents dearly and from what I'm told and have read; loved me and my brother Eric to the moon and back.

She was killed, I know it and I will always say that. She was pushed out of the car she was in and the man who did it, who called it in to the police was called a good upstanding citizen. It makes me sick what has happened and the injustice that happened to her. Her name was rung through the dirt and was never given proper closure. The case was closed and dropped, why I don't know and parts of me want to figure out a way to open the case again and find out what happened, she deserves that. I know parts of the story and  who had a part in it, not their names but in the hiarchy of things, I know it well. How did she get from such an amazing woman to being some news headline for a few weeks before she was forgotten again? Well people she loved and trusted turned her onto drugs. I know who they are, they make me sick for doing it. They simply introduced her to drugs, she lost control and got deeper. That's when they stop, and my mother losses her battle.  From what I know she got deeper and deeper into it and knew things she shouldn't have. She wanted out and the position she was in, they couldn't do it. They couldn't have her leave so they did what they had to.  She got out, but on their terms. 

Two days before she died she wrote a letter to God to take her away from the pain and protect her children. She wanted out from the pain and sorrow she had. The drugs had too big of a hold on her and there was on way out. She had tried rehab, so when people like my so called "good friend" says they find drug addicts disgusting and have no sympathy for them, it makes my blood boil. I know first hand how hard it is to battle it. I lost my own parent to it. I am a good person, I am a nice person but I do have a lot of weight, a lot of anger and darkness in me. I know to let it out we must forgive.  Forgiving is not saying what happened was right, it's letting them know cosmically they no longer have that hold on you. I am not there yet, but one day I will. It's just a lot harder of a journey to take than one thinks. I love her more than anything, I wish she was with me physically to hug me, to love me to tell me if she's proud of me, to wipe my tears away, to be there for graduations and weddings. It kills me inside and makes me want to scream not having her around me. I tried to take my own life on a number of occasions because nobody noticed me, because I'm empty, I want my mother. I am 25 and just told my grandma that I sliced my wrists and I haven't spoken about my near overdosed on pills. I don't condone self harm, if you are having those feelings, please seek help, ask someone to talk to you. The scars heal but the pain and wounds you have inside  run deeper and don't disappear. 

"God knows how I miss you,

All the hell that I've been through,
Just knowin' no-one could take your place.
An' sometimes I wonder,
Who'd you be today?"

-Amanda

First step is always the hardest

So since I'm not exactly full of exciting things to talk about I thought a blog would never really be for me. However I found myself creating one at 1:30 am none the less. Now why would someone like me make a blog? Well I can't really say why I chose to do it, other than it is just an extension of me. An online journal where I can voice my opinions, likes, dislikes and so on. I can have my very own scrap book of my life that I can look back on when I'm older and either regret the hell out of it, or be proud to reminisce about starting a blog at 25 and how I evolved from there.

Now will I care if anyone reads this other than myself or my very supportive grandmother? Not exactly. I wold be grateful if I got a response, but I didn't sign up for it. I have no direction and I have no theme for this blog, so it will more than likely just be me giving a snap shot of my current life for my older self, like those notes you wrote to yourself in grade 8 that you couldn't open again until grade 12. I'm not usually one for hiding my thoughts and opinions much topics so I may end up getting myself in trouble later down the line with this little blog, but it just weeds the good from the bad in my life, I guess.

So I guess in case there happens to be followers I should write something about myself so I don't come off holier than thou. I'm 25, and since publishing this first entry I am awaiting acceptance or rejection from college. I'm sure that will be a future blog entry for sure. I love most of my family with a fierce loyalty. I fully believe you can pick and chose who you love and have in your life when referring to your family just as you can with friends. They say you can't pick family, now granted that is correct; but you can chose to have them in your life or not. You always have a choice. I'm not a feminist but I do believe that no man should ever hit a woman or assume her place is in the kitchen. This is not 1915, the woman's suffrage was not in vain. I don't mind the jokes about it, it's when a man is serious about those views that I walk away faster than I thought I could. Love is not blind to me. I have a select few friends that I cherish more than anything in the world and I would rather have that than hoards of people. I stay in mostly, I love video games and chatting with people. I'm shy when meeting new people in public, and when it comes time for holidays with extended family you don't know, I can be quite people wont remember me being there when they think back on that occasion. I have two dogs. Kazooie:  a miniature schnauzer and Gizmo: Chihuahua. I rescued Kazooie when he was two months, the vet told me he wouldn't live past seven weeks. He's now four and on May 20th 2013 will celebrate his 5th birthday. Gizmo I rescued January of this year. He was used in a puppy mill and beaten by the male owner. It's a slow process but he is very protective of me and is warming up to people and other animals all the time. Yes they are my life and chances are I will even pic-spam them in here from time to time.  I'm allergic to Mushrooms and Eggs, odd combo I know. I'm scared of bees and tarantulas will literally stop me in my tracks and I will  lose the ability to walk. I can't watch jaws because I'm scared of sharks and that music makes me cover my ears and start singing really loudly.

I think that last paragraph was way too long, but I needed to give parts of me away so people can walk away with a better understanding of me. So if this gets some views, if it doesn't all I can say is, till next time. Stay classy.

-Amanda