I recently have been connected to Helping Hands ministries. I’m going to be getting a package together with some of my art and school supplies. My address is 219 N Eastern Apartment A in Moore Oklahoma 73160. Please help God bless His servant.
You just couldn’t help yourself? Fine, but don’t whine and cry and call me nasty or anything like that. I warned you.
I’m a woman. As a woman I have a monthly subscription to Satan’s river. Through the miracle of modern science and engineering, we women have a selective array of products to facilitate or rather hide the rivers’ flow when it comes.
Okay, last chance guys. Believe me, you don’t want to read more.
One of these ingenious products is a plug, otherwise known as a tampon.
Now, I’ve been off my period for a week or so, but several days ago I became disturbed by a rather offensive odor which seemed to be coming from my lady parts. I did what I could, frequent showers, etc, but the odor persisted and seemed to be getting worse.
I assumed I was dying of some horrible and humiliating disease or something, and began preparing my last will and testament, when I thought “maybe it’s a yeast infection”, so I put some ointment on my finger and it began its trek into the depths of my…well, me.
Suddenly I felt something that didn’t feel like me, and I realized “ahhhhh!!! it’s a tampon! Gross! Gross! Gross! Etc.” for about 10 minutes as I fished the disgusting thing out. It was horrible. Traumatizing. Nasty.
So I looked it up and apparently it happens a lot. Women see their doctor and stuff to have it taken out, so I didn’t feel like as much of a sicko. So that’s it. Told you it was gross.
I’m smelling better now, and it can actually be dangerous to leave a tampon in, so I guess I’m fortunate in that regard that it wasn’t life threatening.
In the future, I’m going to have to make tally marks for tampon insertion and retrieval or something, because this was one experience I don’t want a repeat of.
When we got home, we still couldn’t really think about what had just happened. There was too much to do. Power was out, and my husband immediately began calling people (although cell reception was horrible too), including the company he … Continue reading
I’m not sure what exactly this is, but this morning I felt good. Happy, for no reason. If any of you were writing that, I’d say that is a good thing, but with me, I’m not sure.
I don’t typically get happy. I’m more of a somber person in general. Always have been, which is why I noticed it was weird that I was happy. There is a possibility I’m over-thinking this, but what should I do? I took my kids to school and have accomplished some stuff, but I’m scared.
If I was happy for no reason, does that mean soon I’m going to be more depressed, emotional, angry for no reason? I don’t understand what would make me feel happy. I mean, life is good. I know that, but I don’t usually feel it. This is stupid to be writing about. I know that much, but I don’t care.
Anyway, I don’t know what I’m doing. Sorry for this post, I wont blame anyone for unfollowing me. It’s just weird. I’m concerned my hormones are out of whack, or something’s off, but maybe it’s normal. Do people wake up and move around and feel happy for no particular reason?
I kept it buried deep inside The secret pain was easy to hide. I laughed, I smiled, I loved, I lost, No one knew the infinite cost. Of trying just to stay alive. Of holding fears and doubts inside. It was easy just to fake a smile Easy to pretend a while. But little did the whole world know That loneliness doesn’t always show. My life, my lies, had torn apart The fragile pieces of my heart. I’d been so close to giving up I’d tasted of that poison cup. But then one day I failed to stand. And someone reached out a helping hand. The funny thing, I came to see Was that they were just as broken as me. They needed me just as much As I needed their loving touch. Our pain can be the ties that bind The fragments of our hearts and minds. A life was saved, an illusion tossed Heartbreak might come, but not all is lost.
Sorry, I couldn’t really post everything I wanted to say earlier. Bats is alive…okay…thankful. I am too.
I knew that there were plenty of bloggers who care, but yesterday proved that fact. Over 300 people viewed my posts about Bats, and many of you went on her blog and commented…just incredible things. I don’t really know what to say other than thank you. You have played a huge part in Bats life, and in mine. I have mentioned in the past that over the years I have become quite cynical of life and people in general. I see a lot of the good in people, but I also see a lot of the fake side of people. Since I am disabled, people in general are nice to me. That is good, and I really appreciate it, but watching how people treat me verses others is quite interesting, to say the least.
We all have chains. Some of mine are pretty obvious, like the wheelchair or walker, but others lie under the surface. Those hidden chains can be more painful and destructive than any physical quality I have. As we’ve all seen, other people are struggling to break free of some of their own pain. Their own cages. Sometimes the easiest, and most definite way to break free of something seems to be suicide. That battle to give in to the “escape forever” route is a constant struggle for me, and I’m sure others. It isn’t something that you can just “get over”. It isn’t “selfish” when one of the biggest reasons you want to do it, is because you think people really would be better off without you. Suicide, or other self-destructive things are not just people being freaks, or people being stupid, or whatever. It is an outward manifestation of an internal struggle that goes way deeper than any particular “cause”.
The thing about blogging is that each day people cross our paths that we often don’t think about other than the number of comments on a post, or how many people followed your blog. This is a luxury I don’t want to take. It is hard to connect with everyone who steps briefly into our lives, but sometimes it is good for us to try. My blog is not designed for self-help or a support group. It is not something that people would pull up right away if they did a search for suicide, or pain, or heartbreak; but I have had enough experience with these issues to know how to talk to someone else who is struggling. I also know enough about those subjects to know that sometimes it is best not to talk, but to just listen, or even just be there. I’d like to think that each of us has something that we know a little too well. Our hardships don’t have to just stay buried. They don’t have to be chains that hold us back. They can be chains that connect us to other people who can help us or need us to help them. I hope that makes sense.
blogger number 5,186,209 Rebekah. Another wounded soul.
We have a friend who is hurting. Broken really. She put a cry for help out on her blog last night. Although a few of us saw, and tried to help, she hasn’t been active at all for the last 10 hours or so. She didn’t think anyone cared, but I know that even if you don’t personally know her, we are a community that cares deeply for each other.
I don’t know if she is okay. I don’t even know if she is alive, but if she is, she needs to know we see her. Please take a minute and let her know she is not alone.
Just a quick question…if you suspect you have a problem with something; when, where, and how should you ask for help?
Today, I ventured out on the wheelchair with my little dog running happily beside me. I really am trying to cut back on my out-door excursions, because people could watch me, follow me, come up behind me and punch my … Continue reading