Free Flow Friday: Upon the advice of my awesome critique partner Julie, I completely rewrote the opening scene to my first MS "Prep School Sins". Feedback would be greatly appreciated.
DANI
August 26, 2000. On a gorgeous afternoon the Saturday before classes the students of Stanobia Academy were scattered across the front lawn like ants on a picnic blanket. Since most students were local kids they had already settled into their dorms and were out enjoying the day in their little social clusters. Dani was always the odd man out in her group of friends. Maybe it was because she was the only girl or maybe because the other four seemed to naturally pair off. Regardless she was playing swing quarterback in an informal game of tag football.
She hooked her arms around Caleb and Perry’s necks in a huddle. Before she spoke she glared over at Tyler and Reed a few yards away, “Tyler’s head isn’t in the game. He’s too caught up in the whole bonfire crap. Let’s use that to our advantage.”
Caleb motioned over to Reed, “I don’t think Reed’s head is in the game either.”
All three of them glanced in Reed’s direction. He appeared to be flirting with a group of freshman girls. Dani wasn’t surprised when one of them slapped him across the face and Reed shouted after her as she walked away, “You know daddy likes it rough. Get that sweet ass back here!”
Dani rolled her eyes, “Remind me why we aren’t playing tackle again?”
Perry’s soulful eyes looked at Dani, “The rest of us are so much bigger than you. You could get hurt.”
Dani laughed, “Perry don’t be such a pussy. I’m your girlfriend, not your kid sister and I can take care of myself. Be a man and knock Reed on his ass.” She turned to Caleb, “Go long and I’ll handle the rest.”
Tyler shouted, “Are you guys ready yet? I’m on a tight schedule today.”
Dani shouted back, “Keep your panties on!” She nodded at both Perry and Caleb, then they broke apart.
Reed was eyeing a girl sunbathing on a blanket when Perry ran into him and tackled him to the ground. Dani had to keep herself from laughing as she threw the ball to Caleb in the imaginary end zone. Tyler shook his head at Reed for losing them the game. After Perry got up he offered his hand to Reed, “No hard feelings?”
Reed played it cool, “Hey, I look so good I’m used to getting jumped. I just didn’t expect it from you man. Is Dani not holding up her end in the bedroom?”
As Dani joined them she said to Reed, “Oh believe me I’m more than doing my part. I’m surprised Perry has any energy left over for swimming.”
Tyler changed the subject, “Dani, isn’t your new roommate moving in today?”
She shrugged, “Yeah, I think so.”
Reed’s interest peaked, “New roommate?”
Perry said, “Jesus Reed, she isn’t even on campus yet and you’re already planning on molesting her.”
Reed said, “This isn’t just about me, maybe this is the girl that will finally swipe Caleb’s V card.” It was the running joke that Caleb was the only remaining virgin among them.
Caleb blushed, “There are more things to life than sex.”
Reed laughed, “Says the guy whose never gotten any.”
Tyler picked a clipboard off the grass nearby and scolded everyone with his hazel eyes, “Anyways, it says here her name is Lauren Knapp and she’s a junior transfer from NY.”
Reed tried looking over Tyler’s shoulder at the clipboard, “Damn CIA! What else does it say about her? Measurements? Sexual aptitude?”
Tyler held the clipboard against his chest, “Student Council members are privy to information on new students. Dani, you should bring her by the bonfire tonight so we can all meet her.”
Dani crossed her arms, “Just because she’s my roommate doesn’t mean I have to play babysitter. She's a big girl, a junior just like us. She can fend for herself.”
Reed smirked, “I’d be more than happy to make her feel welcome.”
Dani snapped, “By how? Giving the girl a VD?”
Perry stood between Dani and Reed, “Can you two behave for five minutes?”
Dani said, “Reed’s a pig.”
Reed replied, “Dani’s a dyke.”
Caleb offered, “Dani this is exactly why a female friend might be good for you.”
Dani stated, “What do I need a female friend for? I don’t like girls. They’re completely superficial. Make-up, shopping, oh my god I broke a nail. Whatever! Just because the school insisted on throwing some newbie in my lap doesn’t mean we’re going to stay up all night braiding each other’s hair and planning our future weddings.”
Tyler said, “Dani, you’ve been in denial for sixteen years, but the fact remains you are a girl. Girls need each other to bond over girl things.”
Dani asked, “Like what?”
Reed didn’t miss a beat, “Blow-job techniques.”
Dani slugged Reed in the arm before announcing, “I’m heading back to my room. Perry care to join me?”
A smile crept along Perry’s face, “Yeah, hey I’ll catch you guys tonight at the bonfire.”
Caleb, Reed, and Tyler split off into three different directions. Dani and Perry walked side by side back towards the large brick dorms. She glanced over at the other brick building on campus, the school, and thought about how classes started on Monday. Dani hated school, at least the academic part, but the start of classes meant the start of swim season and that was something she always looked forward to. Perry reached out for Dani’s hand, but she pulled it away.
She asked, “What are you doing?”
Perry reasoned, “I don’t know, I thought after more than two years of dating we could try something new.”
Dani gave him a look, “Yeah, we could try something new sexually because I’m always up for that, but hand holding? Come on, you know better.”
Perry pushed his long hair behind his ears, “Maybe I’m gonna head off and find some of the swim team.”
Dani stopped walking, “Seriously? You’re upset?”
Perry face softened, “Dani, maybe I want more than sex from you.”
Dani joked, “Is there anything else?"
Perry shook his head, “For all the ragging you do on Reed, you are just like him. The difference is that he whores himself around and you only do it with me. It’s still all sex all the time.”
Dani threw his hands in the air, “How did I end up with the only sixteen year old boy that doesn’t like sex?”
Perry moved close enough to her so she could smell his breath, “You know I like sex Dani. The way it feels to be inside you. Your warm body against mine.”
Dani was getting aroused, “So let’s go back to my room and you can show me.”
Perry hesitated, “I don’t know.”
Dani looked down at his crouch, “If you’re not up for it, then I understand.”
Perry took the bait, “Do you think we have enough time before your roommate gets here?”
Dani winked, “If she’s already there I don’t mind, maybe we could teach her a thing or two.” Perry leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away. Then she said, “You can put your lips anywhere you want on my body once we’re behind closed doors.” Dani hated any public display of affection, but it didn’t seem to stop Perry from trying every once in a while.
When they got back to her dorm room Dani was ready to pounce on Perry, but they weren’t alone. On the once vacant side of the room was a short girl and what was most likely her parents. The middle aged man stepped forward, “You must be Danielle.”
Dani cringed at the use of her full name, “Call me Dani, my own parents don’t even call me Danielle.”
The man smiled, “Fair enough. I’m Eddie Knapp, this is my wife Lola and my daughter Lauren.” He put out his hand for a shake.
Dani shook his hand and replied, “This is my boyfriend Perry.”
Dani surveyed Lauren’s side of the room. The bed was made, the computer was set up on the desk, and the closet was filled with clothes both school and non school. It didn’t take long for this girl to settle in. At least that meant they wouldn’t be asking Dani for any help. Then Dani studied Lauren. She had a small frame, but a disproportionately large chest. Reed would love her if she didn’t turn out to be some sort of prude. Lauren had dark curly hair, large brown eyes, and fair skin. Dani could admit to herself that this girl was cute. Dani offered in Lauren's direction, “Hey.”
Lauren immediately got up and walked towards Dani. Dani didn’t give a shit that Lauren’s parents were right there if this girl hugged her Dani would deck her. Lauren replied, “Nice to meet you Dani.”
Lola addressed Lauren, “Honey, we have a long drive back so we better get going. You can call us at anytime if you want to talk.” Lauren hugged both of her parents goodbye. Lauren’s eyes followed her parents as they left the room and then she looked over expectantly at Dani.
Perry broke the awkward silence, “I’m going to head out. See you both later on.”
Dani gave him a pleading stare to not leave him alone with new weird girl, but Perry left anyways. Dani sat down on her own bed clueless for how to proceed next. She had had the same group of friends for her entire life, so this whole getting to know you thing was foreign to her. Most importantly she wasn’t really interested in making any new friends. Dani would stay on her side of the room, Lauren could stay on hers, and they would function as roommates. Nothing more, just as Dani had done with her two previous ones.
Lauren spoke, “The whole switch from public to private high school is so jarring for me. I didn’t even know which version of the uniform to get, so my parents got me a little of everything. And then of course I brought some regular, er I mean, normal, um, other clothes for the weekends you know if I go out and do something. Not that I would have any clue what there is to do around here.” She fell down onto her bed, “I’m rambling, I’m sorry. I’m just really nervous.”
Dani just sat there staring at her. What was she supposed to do? This girl didn’t know the town, the school, or have any friends. Already Lauren seemed like a whole lot of work. Dani replied, “There’s a bonfire tonight. The whole school will probably be there, it’s this kick off thing we do at the start of every year. You could tag along if you want.” Dani’s plan was to show her where it was and then Lauren could figure things out on her own.
Lauren let out a sigh, “That would be great. Maybe you could introduce me to some people.”
Dani shrugged, “Maybe. Listen I just finished running around outside, so I’m gonna shower.”
Lauren stood up, “Maybe I’ll freshen up too. Can you show me where the showers are?”
Dani nodded, “Sure.”
Lauren grabbed her own towel and a plastic basket full of toiletries. Then she grabbed a robe. She started to walk towards Dani, but doubled back to her closet, “Should I bring my clothes too?”
Dani couldn’t stifle her giggle. Lauren needed a shower to wash some of that desperation off of her.
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Fighting an Addiction One Bite at a Time
The Nobody Interview. Today we talk with my good friend Linda Gentile about her struggle and survival with an eating disorder for more than a decade.
1. How do we know each other?
We met at Nyack High School our sophomore year of high school.
2. What is your diagnosis? And when were you diagnosed?
I was diagnosed as a purging Anorexic my junior year of high school(1997). That year was also when I started self-inflicting(cutting). I was also diagnosed that year with Social Anxiety Disorder and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. In 2003 I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. In 2007 I was diagnosed with Bi-Polar Disorder.
3. Regarding your anorexia, what kind of treatments have your undergone?
I was placed in Rockland Children's Psychiatric Center when I was 16 at the weight of 74 lbs. While there I was placed on bathroom restriction to make sure I didn't purge. I also needed to eat a certain amount of food daily. I had a few other hospital stays. I went to weekly therapy and was placed on anti-depressants. In addition I attended eating disorder support groups. Last year after a relapse I was placed on an extra anti-depressant to help me gain weight.
4. Do you know what started it all? Was there an event?
It didn't just happen all at once. I was teased for being a chubby kid a lot. I stopped eating breakfast first around 7th grade. I also got braces my 8th grade year. Due to the pain I started to eat less and in turn lost weight. I received a lot of complaints. My freshman year of high school I stopped eating lunch and lost even more weight. My father died mid freshman year. I didn't know it then ,but this would become a catalyst for my illness. My braces were removed right before sophomore year. You would think I would start eating more, but it became the opposite. I could go without eating breakfast and lunch so I decided to start skipping dinner as well. This year I suffered another "loss" or what later I came to view as another person "abandoning" me. My best friend moved to Arizona. I now know through therapy that my eating or restricting my food intake was a way of having control in my life. I couldn't control what happened with my father and I couldn't control that my best friend moved away. After a while people started to notice I wasn't eating. I decided then I would eat to make them happy and retreat to the bathroom to purge it. I figured that way we would all win.
5. Why do you think this addictive behavior could be considered harder in some ways than a drug addiction?
I definitely think this addiction can be a lot harder than drug or alcohol addictions. You can chose to stay away from people that do drugs. You can chose not to go into places like bars. Food is something you have to deal with everyday. You can't avoid it. It is really hard for me to be around people that are dieting. It can start my mind into the whole: "Why aren't you dieting? You can afford to lose some weight. Skipping a few meals won't hurt." The images I see all over of what women are "supposed" to look like also adds on extra pressure. I will never be cured. I don't believe there is a cure for anorexia. I believe it is similar to being an alcoholic in that manner. I will always be a recovering anorexic. When things get really out of control it will always be there for me to slip back into. I need to fight everday to keep that from happening.
6. Because you have been battling anorexia for so long, have you suffered some long term side effects as a result?
Since I started early on in my adolescence I am a very high risk for developing osteoporosis before I am 30. My bones and muscles are very week. As a result of the purging I have ripped apart my stomach lining. Which makes digesting things harder. I have also damaged my teeth through the amount of stomach acid that came up. Through all of the stress I have put upon my body I have really weakened my immune system.
7. No two people are the same. What coping strategies have worked best for you personally?
Writing has been a huge coping strategy for me. I also listen to music, watch TV, play with my pets. Another thing that helps with me is talking to someone. Out of all the therapy I have had I found group sessions to be the most helpful
8. In what way have you faced prejudice because of your condition?
People have viewed me as "crazy" or not worth their time. A lot of people have past judgments without even knowing me or taking the time to get to know me. I have been accused of trying to get attention which was and is the furthest thing from my mind. You are trying to disappear literally. I just face a lot of ignorance. People just assume you are "crazy" and are a "plague" on society.
9. You mentioned earlier that you are a "purging anorexic". What is the difference between a purging anorexic, a bulimic, and a non-purging anorexic?
I wasn't strictly an anorexic because I did purge. However I was not a bulimic because I did not binge. For example if I ate an apple in a two day period I would feel the need to purge.
10. I want to thank you for opening up to us about something so personal. It takes a lot of courage to go what you go through and talk about it. I always like to end my interviews on a positive note. So, if you could be any breakfast cereal what would you be and why?
I would be "Frosted Mini- Wheats" because they are small like me, good stuff on the inside, and sweet on the outside.
Falling Off Cloud 9 and Right Onto My Ass
Confessional Tuesday (This was taken right from my blog on www.writersmarket.com)
I once had a theory that EVERYONE had that ONE thing they were naturally inclined at. Sometimes there were lucky individuals who had more than one, like this girl I grew up with Vicky.
Vicky was beautiful with long strawberry blonde hair, hazel eyes, and medium toned skin. She had an athletic build with slight curves on her medium frame. Vicky's beauty never went unnoticed, in the 8 years I went to school with her I can't recall a single guy that didn't want her and there wasn't a single time that she didn't end up with her own object of desire. Vicky was an amazing dancer. At school dances people gathered around watching her bust a move. Vicky was athletic, name a sport and she dominated it. Did I also mention she could sing? Snagged school solos like they were meant for her. Academically she was in all the advanced classes too. There was only one thing Vicky wasn't good at and that was being humble. She was the shit and she knew it.
Then you have someone like me. Athletically I was an uncoordinated mess. I was a two-step dancer. Academically I was in all the advanced classes, but there were definitely a number of kids quite smarter than me that made my hard work look ridiculously easy. My singing voice was pretty. And I would say I was average looking although always struggled with my weight. Bottom line, there was nothing I excelled at, just a lot of things I could do okay or somewhat decently.
I started writing poetry when I was seven. Deep down I thought maybe writing was my thing. My essays, short stories, plays, writing assignments consistantly impressed my teachers and peers. Maybe it was low self esteem at the time (who am I kidding, my self esteem is still crap) because I didn't recognize my writing as talent for years. Then when I became a teenager I decided that was what I wanted to go to college for and that was the career I wanted to pursue. I would be a world famous writer. Okay, sure thing Laura. This was probably as likely as me becoming a Unicorn Farmer.
I graduate with high honors from college with a B.A. in English, writing. I go onto multiple jobs that have nothing to do with my degree and I stop writing pretty much altogether. About six and 1/2 years post college graduation I tackle the unthinkable...a novel. As far as my writing had gone previously I was a sprinter too impatient to complete anything longer than a short story. But something compells me to try this whole novel thing out. I feel like I have a story within me. This is what I was meant to do and this is why I have been so unhappy all these years. Writing is my ONE thing! My talent, my purpose, why the hell I'm here.
Maybe not. Seven months later I am somewhere between my fourth and fifth draft of my first MS, foolishly working on other projects to keep the momentum going, but realizing that I just might not have something I naturally excell out. If we look at the law of averages, when people like Vicky have about half a dozen things they do better than most, then some of us out there may have none. I know writing is hard work and I see evidence of that everyday on this website; the multiple re-writes and critiques others go through. Call me naive, but I thought I was special or different. Not saying I was better because I don't think that at all with the array of writing styles, experience, and talent here. Not to mention all the writers out there who have no association with this website. Maybe I let go of the Unicorn Farm and just admire from a distance; write for the love of writing and nothing more.
How do you know if you're good at something? In Vicky's case everyone told her she was. How do you know if you were meant to do something? And if it is true that there is nothing exceptional about me, then where do I go from here?
Takes One to Know One
Trial and Error Monday
The new and exciting thing I tried this weekend was going to the "Open Door Bookstore" event where they hosted 14 local authors, all self published or small press. It was my neighbor who spotted the event advertised in the newspaper and made me promise I would go. Like vegetables, she felt it would be really good for me.
I do NOT like going to parties, events, the mall, anywhere by myself. Although I consider myself a pretty outgoing person, this is where the shy girl I used to be all throughout my childhood comes back to the surface. I still contemplated all of last week whether I was actually going to go or not and when I finally decided the morning of I desperately tried to find someone to go with me. Of course it was Friday night and people had other plans.
But I went after work. The Map Quest directions were a bit confusing, I recently broke up with my GPS, so after a little getting lost I found my way there. Thirty minutes early, there before all the authors, it gave me time to read the mini "bio" cards they had set up for each author on the display table with all the books. There was a variety of work: poetry, self help, a children's book series, short stories, fables, non-fiction/sports.
The first author to show up Rashaun Allen was the youngest and coincidentally a recent grad from my alma mater SUNY Albany. We chatted for a bit mostly about our experiences at SUNY. Then I spoke with Mary Kuykendall Weber who published short stories about growing up in rural Virginia. Her publication was a result of a contest win. I approached Bonnie Wayne, who was the only one representing children's books at this event. Her books were unique in that they combined her love of taking wacky photos of her two poodles and education. I became a fan on Facebook and joined her "petition" to get her dogs onto Ellen. Author Douglas J. Gladstone approached me after overhearing that I was an aspiring writer. He gave me advice that boiled down to confidence and self promotion, he feels his success is attributed to his strong self drive. I told author Bill Giruzzi about some ideas I had for my writing. He wrote a self help book and is currently working on the sequel. Next I spoke with Todd Fabozzi about poetry and anti-poetry. He explained that he self published because he didn't think an agent or publishing company could do anything for him that he couldn't do for himself. He talked expenses and how he turned a profit with me. Last but not least I spoke with Mimi Moriarty about the love of poetry and her fascinating book "Let's Watch a Movie! Using Popular Videos to Enrich Your marriage". I'm a movie nut, so I was fascinated by this idea. We even recommended movies for the other to see.
All in all this was an amazing experience. I got business cards and contact info from some of the authors. And Mimi told me to contact her if I ever wanted some guidance. I am so glad I went and look forward to someday being on the other end. (I ended up buying 7 of the books, but I rationalized that they were books and not shoes.)
The new and exciting thing I tried this weekend was going to the "Open Door Bookstore" event where they hosted 14 local authors, all self published or small press. It was my neighbor who spotted the event advertised in the newspaper and made me promise I would go. Like vegetables, she felt it would be really good for me.
I do NOT like going to parties, events, the mall, anywhere by myself. Although I consider myself a pretty outgoing person, this is where the shy girl I used to be all throughout my childhood comes back to the surface. I still contemplated all of last week whether I was actually going to go or not and when I finally decided the morning of I desperately tried to find someone to go with me. Of course it was Friday night and people had other plans.
But I went after work. The Map Quest directions were a bit confusing, I recently broke up with my GPS, so after a little getting lost I found my way there. Thirty minutes early, there before all the authors, it gave me time to read the mini "bio" cards they had set up for each author on the display table with all the books. There was a variety of work: poetry, self help, a children's book series, short stories, fables, non-fiction/sports.
The first author to show up Rashaun Allen was the youngest and coincidentally a recent grad from my alma mater SUNY Albany. We chatted for a bit mostly about our experiences at SUNY. Then I spoke with Mary Kuykendall Weber who published short stories about growing up in rural Virginia. Her publication was a result of a contest win. I approached Bonnie Wayne, who was the only one representing children's books at this event. Her books were unique in that they combined her love of taking wacky photos of her two poodles and education. I became a fan on Facebook and joined her "petition" to get her dogs onto Ellen. Author Douglas J. Gladstone approached me after overhearing that I was an aspiring writer. He gave me advice that boiled down to confidence and self promotion, he feels his success is attributed to his strong self drive. I told author Bill Giruzzi about some ideas I had for my writing. He wrote a self help book and is currently working on the sequel. Next I spoke with Todd Fabozzi about poetry and anti-poetry. He explained that he self published because he didn't think an agent or publishing company could do anything for him that he couldn't do for himself. He talked expenses and how he turned a profit with me. Last but not least I spoke with Mimi Moriarty about the love of poetry and her fascinating book "Let's Watch a Movie! Using Popular Videos to Enrich Your marriage". I'm a movie nut, so I was fascinated by this idea. We even recommended movies for the other to see.
All in all this was an amazing experience. I got business cards and contact info from some of the authors. And Mimi told me to contact her if I ever wanted some guidance. I am so glad I went and look forward to someday being on the other end. (I ended up buying 7 of the books, but I rationalized that they were books and not shoes.)
Prep School Sins: What Really Happened Halloween Night
**Free Flow Friday **
Lauren zipped up the back of Dani's skin tight vinyl Cat Woman costume. Then she made sure all of Dani's hair was tucked underneath the mask. Dani turned around, "How do I look?"
Lauren winked, "Like pure sex."
A smile crept upon Dani's face, "Good. Maybe you can let Perry and I have the room for a bit tonight?"
Lauren walked over to her own costume still laid out on her bed. Lauren was currently only wearing white lace panties and a matching A-line bra. She looked back towards Dani, "I don't know, I'm thinking I'll just skip the party and stay in tonight."
Dani scolded, "Lauren Knapp, you better get your tiny ass into that dress before I'm forced to use my leather whip on you!"
Lauren said, "Okay, okay." She slipped the white halter dress over her head, slid into her silver open toe wedges, and secured the platinum bob on her head. As she inspected her self in the mirror, she hardly recognized the girl staring back at her. When you're a teenager Halloween becomes about fantasy and tonight she would be Marilyn Monroe.
There was a knock at the door. Dani opened up to let Perry, Caleb, and Tyler in. Perry was the Batman to Dani's Cat Woman. Dani pulled Perry into her and gave him a passionate kiss on the lips. Tyler as Luke Skywalker took Lauren's hand, spun her around, and whistled. Caleb was Zorro from the neck down, he sat on Lauren's bed.
Lauren announced, "I feel like it's a bit too much, my boobs are practically popping out of this."
Dani said, "Believe me I don't think anyone minds. Tyler didn't you start up a club on campus for fans of Lauren's hooters?"
Tyler nodded, "Not only am I the founder, but I'm a card carrying member. Everyone who loves Lauren's chest raise your hands." Dani, Tyler, and Perry all raised their hands.
Perry teased, "What's a matter Caleb? You don't like Lauren's boobs?"
Caleb seemed distracted, "Huh, yeah I do, but..." His face turned three shades of red.
Lauren walked over to Caleb, "Leave him alone guys. Dimples, why aren't you wearing your mask and mustache?"
Caleb shook his head, "Because I'll look stupid."
Lauren smiled down at him, "Dimples, you're going to look so sexy the girls will be lining up to molest you."
Caleb blushed even deeper, then handed her the mask and mustache from his pocket. She tilted his face upward and tied the mask around at the back of his head. As she leaned into him her cleavage was practically in his face. Dani shouted, "I bet Caleb's a fan now!"
Now Lauren was blushing, "Sorry about that."
Tyler grabbed Lauren's hand, "Come on guys, the party has already started in the student lounge."
Lauren suddenly realized someone was missing, "Where's Reed?"
Caleb said, "He's off in the woods relaxing. He'll probably show up later."
All five of them descending from the top floor of the dorms to the student lounge in the basement. Music permeated down the halls. Everything was dark except for the occasional glow stick or Halloween lit decor. The student body was involved in some costumed orgy on the dance floor, hands were everywhere. Caleb leaned his back against the far wall while Dani, Lauren, Perry, and Tyler danced.
After a few songs Lauren spotted Caleb and walked over in her best sultry Marilyn Monroe strut. She shouted above the loud music, "Why aren't you dancing?"
Caleb replied, "I can't really dance, no rhythm."
Lauren motioned towards the costumed orgy, "It's not really dancing, more like sex with your clothes on." As soon as she said it she realized what a stupid comparison that was, Caleb was a virgin. She tried again, "Come on, I'll show you." She reached out her hand which he reluctantly took and then followed her out onto the dance floor.
When they reached the others she pressed her body right up against his. Lauren took Caleb's hands, placed them on her hips, and began to sway her body back and forth. Caleb's moves were clumsy and awkward as he struggled to keep up with her. He leaned down towards her. "Lauren I need to tell you something."
Before Caleb's words could leave his mouth Reed swooped in, grabbed Lauren from behind, and said, "Thanks Zorro for warming her up for me. I can take it from here."
***THE FOLLOWING SECTION IS RATED NC-17 FOR BRIEF NUDITY AND SEXUALITY***
Caleb retreated with his metaphorical tail between his legs. Lauren tried to push Reed away, but that only made him tighten his grip. He suggestively traced the outline of her right breast as he said, "Wish you had dressed like this while we were dating, maybe we'd still be together."
She swatted his hand away and sarcastically replied, "Yeah cause that was our problem, not enough sexual role playing."
Reed said, "You're right, there just wasn't enough sex."
Lauren rolled her eyes, "There wasn't any sex actually. Where's your costume by the way?"
"I don't do costumes."
Reed dove down onto the nape of her neck starting in on one of his trademark hickeys. Lauren thought to herself how it hurt so good. When he pulled away their lips met in a passionate kiss. Maybe it was the dancing, the music, the spirit of Halloween but Lauren didn't feel like herself tonight. Tonight she was Marilyn. Reed said, "Let's handle this", and to make sure there was no confusion he took her hand and placed it on his throbbing dick.
They left the party together and barely made it into the hallway when Reed slammed Lauren against the wall and began kissing her. She couldn't help getting wet with excitement, she pulled his hand down underneath her dress and white lace panties as she said, "You're making me hot." Reed lifted one of her legs up by his side while he fingered her with his other hand.
He said, "I'd rather shove my large cock inside you."
She pushed him off of her and ran towards the stairs.He shouted after her, "I'm not done with you yet."
She shouted back, "Then come and get it."
At the platform between the first and second floor she pushed him down onto the stairs, straddled him, and began kissing him again. This time he reached into the top of her dress pulling out both of her large breasts. As they kissed he played with her nipples. She moaned. He pulled away from her, "Enough of this foreplay shit, let's finish this." Lauren climbed off of him and they walked the rest of the way to his dorm room.
When they entered his room Reed grabbed her arms, kissed her hard, and pushed her against the wall behind his door. She looked at him with lust in her eyes as she pulled his shirt up over his head. Lauren licked her lips as she undid his belt, unzipped his jeans, and slid his pants down to the floor. Instead of coming back up she playfully fingered the rim of his boxers before she pushed them down. Then Lauren took him into her mouth.
Reed panted, "Oh shit that feels good."
She worked the tip with her tongue, slow circular motions and massaged his balls with her right hand. Then she took all of him in her mouth and began rhythmically working it back and forth at a fast pace.
Before she could finish Reed pulled her up by both arms and turned her around. She bent over and gripped the sides of his desk. He reached underneath her skirt and slipped off her lace panties. He bit her left ass cheek. She screamed, he laughed. When he began to take her dress off she stopped him and said, "No, keep it on."
Reed smiled, "That's hot. Every guys wants to fuck Marilyn Monroe."
She spread her legs, he put himself inside her, and she began to moan deeply. It had been several months since Lauren last had sex and to her this felt like losing her virginity all over again. She bit down on her lip so hard she was sure she made it bleed. Reed wasn't gentle by any means. He reached back inside the top of her dress with both hands and began rolling her nipples between his fingers.
After he came, he said into her ear, "I'm still not finished with you." Reed pulled away, took Lauren's left arm, and threw her down onto his bed. He climbed on top of her, grabbing her right leg to angle himself for a deeper thrust. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Reed shouted, "Tell me how much you like it!"
"Oh god it feels so good."
She clawed her nails down his back making him feel some pain. He thrusted inside her harder and faster as her large tits bounced in every direction. She couldn't help notice this possessed look on his face, like he was fucking her out of anger. Maybe he was angry since she had held out on him all this time, part of her still couldn't believe this was all happening. Reed moaned the loudest when he came the second time. Without withdrawing he leaned back and pulled her on top of him.
A smile came upon his face as he declared, "Round three!" This guy was a stallion, no wonder he had the reputation he did. This time Lauren clawed her nails down his chest and stomach.
Then doubt entered her mind. Why was she doing this? She wasn't Marilyn Monroe, she was Lauren Knapp a girl who was having sex with her ex-boyfriend for all the wrong reasons. She climbed off of him, "I'm sorry, I just can't do this."
Reed was all breathy, "Yes you can. It was so good, damn good. Get back here."
She placed her breasts back into her bra and frantically searched the clutter on the floor for her lace panties. Lauren's brown eyes locked with Reed's icy blue ones. She reasoned, "I should have been honest with you from the start about why we never have sex when we were dating. I owe you an explanation."
Reed sat up, "No bitch what you owe me is a fuck. Now get back over here and finish what you started."
Tears welled up in her eyes. Screw the panties and screw Reed. "You know what? You can finish up yourself!" She stormed out the room slamming the door behind her.
Lauren zipped up the back of Dani's skin tight vinyl Cat Woman costume. Then she made sure all of Dani's hair was tucked underneath the mask. Dani turned around, "How do I look?"
Lauren winked, "Like pure sex."
A smile crept upon Dani's face, "Good. Maybe you can let Perry and I have the room for a bit tonight?"
Lauren walked over to her own costume still laid out on her bed. Lauren was currently only wearing white lace panties and a matching A-line bra. She looked back towards Dani, "I don't know, I'm thinking I'll just skip the party and stay in tonight."
Dani scolded, "Lauren Knapp, you better get your tiny ass into that dress before I'm forced to use my leather whip on you!"
Lauren said, "Okay, okay." She slipped the white halter dress over her head, slid into her silver open toe wedges, and secured the platinum bob on her head. As she inspected her self in the mirror, she hardly recognized the girl staring back at her. When you're a teenager Halloween becomes about fantasy and tonight she would be Marilyn Monroe.
There was a knock at the door. Dani opened up to let Perry, Caleb, and Tyler in. Perry was the Batman to Dani's Cat Woman. Dani pulled Perry into her and gave him a passionate kiss on the lips. Tyler as Luke Skywalker took Lauren's hand, spun her around, and whistled. Caleb was Zorro from the neck down, he sat on Lauren's bed.
Lauren announced, "I feel like it's a bit too much, my boobs are practically popping out of this."
Dani said, "Believe me I don't think anyone minds. Tyler didn't you start up a club on campus for fans of Lauren's hooters?"
Tyler nodded, "Not only am I the founder, but I'm a card carrying member. Everyone who loves Lauren's chest raise your hands." Dani, Tyler, and Perry all raised their hands.
Perry teased, "What's a matter Caleb? You don't like Lauren's boobs?"
Caleb seemed distracted, "Huh, yeah I do, but..." His face turned three shades of red.
Lauren walked over to Caleb, "Leave him alone guys. Dimples, why aren't you wearing your mask and mustache?"
Caleb shook his head, "Because I'll look stupid."
Lauren smiled down at him, "Dimples, you're going to look so sexy the girls will be lining up to molest you."
Caleb blushed even deeper, then handed her the mask and mustache from his pocket. She tilted his face upward and tied the mask around at the back of his head. As she leaned into him her cleavage was practically in his face. Dani shouted, "I bet Caleb's a fan now!"
Now Lauren was blushing, "Sorry about that."
Tyler grabbed Lauren's hand, "Come on guys, the party has already started in the student lounge."
Lauren suddenly realized someone was missing, "Where's Reed?"
Caleb said, "He's off in the woods relaxing. He'll probably show up later."
All five of them descending from the top floor of the dorms to the student lounge in the basement. Music permeated down the halls. Everything was dark except for the occasional glow stick or Halloween lit decor. The student body was involved in some costumed orgy on the dance floor, hands were everywhere. Caleb leaned his back against the far wall while Dani, Lauren, Perry, and Tyler danced.
After a few songs Lauren spotted Caleb and walked over in her best sultry Marilyn Monroe strut. She shouted above the loud music, "Why aren't you dancing?"
Caleb replied, "I can't really dance, no rhythm."
Lauren motioned towards the costumed orgy, "It's not really dancing, more like sex with your clothes on." As soon as she said it she realized what a stupid comparison that was, Caleb was a virgin. She tried again, "Come on, I'll show you." She reached out her hand which he reluctantly took and then followed her out onto the dance floor.
When they reached the others she pressed her body right up against his. Lauren took Caleb's hands, placed them on her hips, and began to sway her body back and forth. Caleb's moves were clumsy and awkward as he struggled to keep up with her. He leaned down towards her. "Lauren I need to tell you something."
Before Caleb's words could leave his mouth Reed swooped in, grabbed Lauren from behind, and said, "Thanks Zorro for warming her up for me. I can take it from here."
***THE FOLLOWING SECTION IS RATED NC-17 FOR BRIEF NUDITY AND SEXUALITY***
Caleb retreated with his metaphorical tail between his legs. Lauren tried to push Reed away, but that only made him tighten his grip. He suggestively traced the outline of her right breast as he said, "Wish you had dressed like this while we were dating, maybe we'd still be together."
She swatted his hand away and sarcastically replied, "Yeah cause that was our problem, not enough sexual role playing."
Reed said, "You're right, there just wasn't enough sex."
Lauren rolled her eyes, "There wasn't any sex actually. Where's your costume by the way?"
"I don't do costumes."
Reed dove down onto the nape of her neck starting in on one of his trademark hickeys. Lauren thought to herself how it hurt so good. When he pulled away their lips met in a passionate kiss. Maybe it was the dancing, the music, the spirit of Halloween but Lauren didn't feel like herself tonight. Tonight she was Marilyn. Reed said, "Let's handle this", and to make sure there was no confusion he took her hand and placed it on his throbbing dick.
They left the party together and barely made it into the hallway when Reed slammed Lauren against the wall and began kissing her. She couldn't help getting wet with excitement, she pulled his hand down underneath her dress and white lace panties as she said, "You're making me hot." Reed lifted one of her legs up by his side while he fingered her with his other hand.
He said, "I'd rather shove my large cock inside you."
She pushed him off of her and ran towards the stairs.He shouted after her, "I'm not done with you yet."
She shouted back, "Then come and get it."
At the platform between the first and second floor she pushed him down onto the stairs, straddled him, and began kissing him again. This time he reached into the top of her dress pulling out both of her large breasts. As they kissed he played with her nipples. She moaned. He pulled away from her, "Enough of this foreplay shit, let's finish this." Lauren climbed off of him and they walked the rest of the way to his dorm room.
When they entered his room Reed grabbed her arms, kissed her hard, and pushed her against the wall behind his door. She looked at him with lust in her eyes as she pulled his shirt up over his head. Lauren licked her lips as she undid his belt, unzipped his jeans, and slid his pants down to the floor. Instead of coming back up she playfully fingered the rim of his boxers before she pushed them down. Then Lauren took him into her mouth.
Reed panted, "Oh shit that feels good."
She worked the tip with her tongue, slow circular motions and massaged his balls with her right hand. Then she took all of him in her mouth and began rhythmically working it back and forth at a fast pace.
Before she could finish Reed pulled her up by both arms and turned her around. She bent over and gripped the sides of his desk. He reached underneath her skirt and slipped off her lace panties. He bit her left ass cheek. She screamed, he laughed. When he began to take her dress off she stopped him and said, "No, keep it on."
Reed smiled, "That's hot. Every guys wants to fuck Marilyn Monroe."
She spread her legs, he put himself inside her, and she began to moan deeply. It had been several months since Lauren last had sex and to her this felt like losing her virginity all over again. She bit down on her lip so hard she was sure she made it bleed. Reed wasn't gentle by any means. He reached back inside the top of her dress with both hands and began rolling her nipples between his fingers.
After he came, he said into her ear, "I'm still not finished with you." Reed pulled away, took Lauren's left arm, and threw her down onto his bed. He climbed on top of her, grabbing her right leg to angle himself for a deeper thrust. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Reed shouted, "Tell me how much you like it!"
"Oh god it feels so good."
She clawed her nails down his back making him feel some pain. He thrusted inside her harder and faster as her large tits bounced in every direction. She couldn't help notice this possessed look on his face, like he was fucking her out of anger. Maybe he was angry since she had held out on him all this time, part of her still couldn't believe this was all happening. Reed moaned the loudest when he came the second time. Without withdrawing he leaned back and pulled her on top of him.
A smile came upon his face as he declared, "Round three!" This guy was a stallion, no wonder he had the reputation he did. This time Lauren clawed her nails down his chest and stomach.
Then doubt entered her mind. Why was she doing this? She wasn't Marilyn Monroe, she was Lauren Knapp a girl who was having sex with her ex-boyfriend for all the wrong reasons. She climbed off of him, "I'm sorry, I just can't do this."
Reed was all breathy, "Yes you can. It was so good, damn good. Get back here."
She placed her breasts back into her bra and frantically searched the clutter on the floor for her lace panties. Lauren's brown eyes locked with Reed's icy blue ones. She reasoned, "I should have been honest with you from the start about why we never have sex when we were dating. I owe you an explanation."
Reed sat up, "No bitch what you owe me is a fuck. Now get back over here and finish what you started."
Tears welled up in her eyes. Screw the panties and screw Reed. "You know what? You can finish up yourself!" She stormed out the room slamming the door behind her.
Life Stuck in Neutral
Bitch It Out Thursday
I graduated college seven years ago. This is not where I thought I would be. I have a trail of jobs behind me, am barely making more with my current job than I was with my very first and I'm unhappy.
I'm tired. I came into each job with enthusiasm and high hopes. I showed up early, stayed late, took on extra responsibilities/shifts/other people's work loads, drafted ideas and innovations for improvement yet it got me know where. It's frustrating when my bosses don't recognize my hard work on my reviews, in my pay, and even verbally. The words "thank you" go a long way with me, but what I got instead were nitpickers who sought out every little thing I didn't do perfectly instead of focusing on the blood, sweat, and tears I put into the job day in and day out. In order to avoid giving me well deserved raises and promotions, I was deemed average.
Maybe my problem is that I try too hard, I care too much, I put too much effort into what I do. After seven years of getting nowhere I'm drained. It may have been a few different jobs, but to me it feels like it's been the same job all this time under the same unappreciative boss.
I'm sick of the excuses I get. "You don't qualify" meanwhile someone who has been there less time with less training and attendence problems gets promoted. "I don't have the money" as you plan your two week carribean cruise vacation with your family. Just shoot it to me straight, I'm your mule and you'll work me as hard as you can paying as little as you can until I keel over and die.
What's my motivation anymore when I see others around me get paid more for doing so much less? What's my motivation when I get snapped at for coming up with ideas to trouble shoot recurring issues customers complain about? My motivation is to clock in and clock out so that my damn bills get paid. If the people above me don't care then why should I? I used to lose sleep over work, making myself physically sick trying to be better than the best. But at the end of the day I am never good enough. My college degree means nothing. And with the economy in the crapper (Thanks Bush) my options are pretty much nothing.
I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't.
I graduated college seven years ago. This is not where I thought I would be. I have a trail of jobs behind me, am barely making more with my current job than I was with my very first and I'm unhappy.
I'm tired. I came into each job with enthusiasm and high hopes. I showed up early, stayed late, took on extra responsibilities/shifts/other people's work loads, drafted ideas and innovations for improvement yet it got me know where. It's frustrating when my bosses don't recognize my hard work on my reviews, in my pay, and even verbally. The words "thank you" go a long way with me, but what I got instead were nitpickers who sought out every little thing I didn't do perfectly instead of focusing on the blood, sweat, and tears I put into the job day in and day out. In order to avoid giving me well deserved raises and promotions, I was deemed average.
Maybe my problem is that I try too hard, I care too much, I put too much effort into what I do. After seven years of getting nowhere I'm drained. It may have been a few different jobs, but to me it feels like it's been the same job all this time under the same unappreciative boss.
I'm sick of the excuses I get. "You don't qualify" meanwhile someone who has been there less time with less training and attendence problems gets promoted. "I don't have the money" as you plan your two week carribean cruise vacation with your family. Just shoot it to me straight, I'm your mule and you'll work me as hard as you can paying as little as you can until I keel over and die.
What's my motivation anymore when I see others around me get paid more for doing so much less? What's my motivation when I get snapped at for coming up with ideas to trouble shoot recurring issues customers complain about? My motivation is to clock in and clock out so that my damn bills get paid. If the people above me don't care then why should I? I used to lose sleep over work, making myself physically sick trying to be better than the best. But at the end of the day I am never good enough. My college degree means nothing. And with the economy in the crapper (Thanks Bush) my options are pretty much nothing.
I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't.
The Insider helping all the Outsiders
This is another "Nobody Interview". Today I have my good friend Gina Schwarz. She has worked for several years with dually diagnosed individuals with some form of mental illness and a developmental disability ranging in age from 13 to 22 years old. She has two Masters Degrees: Social Work and Criminal Justice.
1.How do we know each other?
(We were) assigned as school roomies and then friends for almost 8 yrs now
2.What first got you interested in working in the Mental Health industry?
I took a random job working in a IRA (individualize residental alternative) right before I graduated undergrad. After my experiences with the residents of the house I decided to get my Master's in Social Work
3. What were some of the most challenging aspects of taking a job in this field?
Realizing that nothing is personal and that the smallest accomplishments should be treated like the biggest because most of these individuals will never be able to function or live completely on their own
4.I know a Masters in Social Work provides course work to prepare you, but what did you find you learned from in the field as opposed to the classroom?
Everything is learned in the field. Coursework teaches you how to document whats occuring in your clients lives and how to get paid for the services you provide. Most of my training while in my position is what taught me how to de-escalate crisis and get to the bottom of whatever issue presented itself.
5.What specific tasks were you required to do at some of these places?
Basically, the every day was that you were someone's parent...you took them shopping, helped them bath, taught life skills, how to brush their teeth, clean their room, how to socialize...all the things we learn by watching our parents or having relationships with our peers. I also had to perform restraints and help my clients remain safe even in their most unsafe mental states.
6.Were you ever hurt on the job by one of your patients?
There was only one time that I was hurt. This was an adult male that was diagnosed bipolar, paranoid schizophrenic and developmentally disabled. I was put in a situation where the staff I was working with was inexperienced. When the resident starting having a crisis, my support froze and I was required to perform a restraint on someone that required three people to restrain him due to his strength and flexibility. So, to assure that he would not hurt his mother, sibling, or the others in the residence, I performed the restraint myself and was bitten badly. We both went to the ER...me for a tetanus shot and him to the Behavioral Health Unit. They said he had a psychotic split due to something that happened on his home visit that day and they sent him home. Well because of his reputation, no one would work in my house so I ended up staying another 10 hours to work with someone that just injured me and was unpredictable.I often did 18 hour shifts in the house because of low staffing and this was one of the days.
Then I went to my primary care the next day where they gave me this awful antibiotic that made me horribly sick so that they could ensure that I would not get some awful infection
Lucky for me, this was a resident that was there since 13 so they knew his entire history including that he did not have TB, HIV, or anything else so serious that it would change my life forever
7.Can you tell us about one of your most positive experiences working in this field?
Its gonna sound crazy but my most rewarding time was definately when I taught the same resident that injured me how to put his shoes on the right feet, wash his own private parts, and when I was able to bring him to almost ANY public place with no crisis or outbursts at all.
8. How do you prevent yourself from forming attachments with the patients you work with?
you cannot prevent yourself from forming attachments with those that you work with daily and see even more than your own famaily. you have to remind yourself regularly that they are clients, but we are all human and we are bound to make attachments that can be helpful or harmful...just have to be sure that the attachments we make are positive
9. From an "insiders" perspective, what are some chances you would like to see in this field within the next 5-10 years?
The field has moved to focus too much on the dollar and how much money can be made from serving these individuals instead of focusing on their needs and the support of their every day lives. I would also like to see the educational requirements or hiring policies to be more strict when making a selection on who will spend all these hours with those in need of positive guidance and not just any warm body.
10. As always, my version of the happy ending. If you can be any breakfast cereal, what would you be and why?
Cap n Crunch cause it makes me happy...even in my body's crazy state of pregnancy I can eat it everyday and still not feel sick!!
1.How do we know each other?
(We were) assigned as school roomies and then friends for almost 8 yrs now
2.What first got you interested in working in the Mental Health industry?
I took a random job working in a IRA (individualize residental alternative) right before I graduated undergrad. After my experiences with the residents of the house I decided to get my Master's in Social Work
3. What were some of the most challenging aspects of taking a job in this field?
Realizing that nothing is personal and that the smallest accomplishments should be treated like the biggest because most of these individuals will never be able to function or live completely on their own
4.I know a Masters in Social Work provides course work to prepare you, but what did you find you learned from in the field as opposed to the classroom?
Everything is learned in the field. Coursework teaches you how to document whats occuring in your clients lives and how to get paid for the services you provide. Most of my training while in my position is what taught me how to de-escalate crisis and get to the bottom of whatever issue presented itself.
5.What specific tasks were you required to do at some of these places?
Basically, the every day was that you were someone's parent...you took them shopping, helped them bath, taught life skills, how to brush their teeth, clean their room, how to socialize...all the things we learn by watching our parents or having relationships with our peers. I also had to perform restraints and help my clients remain safe even in their most unsafe mental states.
6.Were you ever hurt on the job by one of your patients?
There was only one time that I was hurt. This was an adult male that was diagnosed bipolar, paranoid schizophrenic and developmentally disabled. I was put in a situation where the staff I was working with was inexperienced. When the resident starting having a crisis, my support froze and I was required to perform a restraint on someone that required three people to restrain him due to his strength and flexibility. So, to assure that he would not hurt his mother, sibling, or the others in the residence, I performed the restraint myself and was bitten badly. We both went to the ER...me for a tetanus shot and him to the Behavioral Health Unit. They said he had a psychotic split due to something that happened on his home visit that day and they sent him home. Well because of his reputation, no one would work in my house so I ended up staying another 10 hours to work with someone that just injured me and was unpredictable.I often did 18 hour shifts in the house because of low staffing and this was one of the days.
Then I went to my primary care the next day where they gave me this awful antibiotic that made me horribly sick so that they could ensure that I would not get some awful infection
Lucky for me, this was a resident that was there since 13 so they knew his entire history including that he did not have TB, HIV, or anything else so serious that it would change my life forever
7.Can you tell us about one of your most positive experiences working in this field?
Its gonna sound crazy but my most rewarding time was definately when I taught the same resident that injured me how to put his shoes on the right feet, wash his own private parts, and when I was able to bring him to almost ANY public place with no crisis or outbursts at all.
8. How do you prevent yourself from forming attachments with the patients you work with?
you cannot prevent yourself from forming attachments with those that you work with daily and see even more than your own famaily. you have to remind yourself regularly that they are clients, but we are all human and we are bound to make attachments that can be helpful or harmful...just have to be sure that the attachments we make are positive
9. From an "insiders" perspective, what are some chances you would like to see in this field within the next 5-10 years?
The field has moved to focus too much on the dollar and how much money can be made from serving these individuals instead of focusing on their needs and the support of their every day lives. I would also like to see the educational requirements or hiring policies to be more strict when making a selection on who will spend all these hours with those in need of positive guidance and not just any warm body.
10. As always, my version of the happy ending. If you can be any breakfast cereal, what would you be and why?
Cap n Crunch cause it makes me happy...even in my body's crazy state of pregnancy I can eat it everyday and still not feel sick!!
Missing Someone Who Has Lost Herself
Confessional Tuesday
Dear Alexis,
I miss you even though I shouldn't. I miss the girl I met my sophomore year of college who stood by me when almost everyone else turned their backs on me. I miss the girl who said after my suicide attempt, "What can I do to be a better friend to you?" I remember the nights we'd laugh so hard I'd pee myself: quote book, playing in the fountain at SUNY, movies nights...
I remember when Mark and I went to visit you in Spain. You were spending the year studying abroad, but you seemed like you belonged there. We met your international friends, you played translator and in my case match maker, and we explored Sevilla together. Being overseas with you felt just as comfortable as being in my childhood home because you made it that way.
I remember all the trips I took to the other side of the Hudson River to hang out with you and your friends, who then became my friends. Slumber parties, chillin' in Jarod's basement, driving around aimlessly, and the diner where I got drunk off of water. You introduced me to the world of Harry Potter, the movies anyways. I still haven't read any of the books.
I remember the trip to Six Flags that we took with Elliot and Mark. I remember the New Years Eve/Dave's birthday party at my house. I remember my farewell party when I was going to Australia for the summer. I remember Jarod's graduation party. There were apparently a lot of parties...
So when I think back to the years of memories we built together, it pains me that you didn't care enough to try. When I called you that day to ask you to be my Maid of Honor I was so nervous that you would refuse me, I don't know why because you hadn't refused me once in our entire friendship. Because of the distance, me in S.C. and you in D.C., your traditional duties were severely shortened. In the end you had a year and half to write a speech, buy a dress, and show up. You showed up in the dress, but what happened to the speech?
You stood up there and summed up our entire friendship in about two minutes. You confessed after a few drinks to a some people that you hadn't written a speech at all. You even asked a mutual friend months earlier to write the speech for you. You broke my heart. I don't know who you became, but I don't miss that person.
Part of me questioned if I ever knew you at all. A year after my wedding the truth unfolded from several sources: you took all the credit at the time for my bachelorette party yet in reality had nothing to do with it but paying your way, you never made countless phone calls and email attempts to the various bridal party members like you had claimed (some of them said they had never even heard from you once), the long speech you said you spent more than a year working on but changed at the last minute because your boyfriend told you it was too much about me (no shit, I'm the bride) was never written at all.
You never gave me a single reason why when I asked you.
After our falling out I made several attempts to reach out to you and repair our friendship. You were going to visit me two summers ago, but had to cancel for work obligations. Then I find out you made five or six trips to NY that summer never once calling me to make plans. I leave you voice messages which you don't return. I send you emails, yet get no replies. You tell my husband and some of my friends how you miss me and regret the way things went down, but do nothing to make things right. I gave you so many chances to start fresh with me and you threw each one away like it meant nothing.
I miss you and I know I shouldn't. More than three years later I still hurt even though you probably don't. And I will never completely close off that part of my heart that you belong to because I just can't. I think our friendship is a buried treasure and maybe someday we'll find it again together.
Sincerely,
Laura
Dear Alexis,
I miss you even though I shouldn't. I miss the girl I met my sophomore year of college who stood by me when almost everyone else turned their backs on me. I miss the girl who said after my suicide attempt, "What can I do to be a better friend to you?" I remember the nights we'd laugh so hard I'd pee myself: quote book, playing in the fountain at SUNY, movies nights...
I remember when Mark and I went to visit you in Spain. You were spending the year studying abroad, but you seemed like you belonged there. We met your international friends, you played translator and in my case match maker, and we explored Sevilla together. Being overseas with you felt just as comfortable as being in my childhood home because you made it that way.
I remember all the trips I took to the other side of the Hudson River to hang out with you and your friends, who then became my friends. Slumber parties, chillin' in Jarod's basement, driving around aimlessly, and the diner where I got drunk off of water. You introduced me to the world of Harry Potter, the movies anyways. I still haven't read any of the books.
I remember the trip to Six Flags that we took with Elliot and Mark. I remember the New Years Eve/Dave's birthday party at my house. I remember my farewell party when I was going to Australia for the summer. I remember Jarod's graduation party. There were apparently a lot of parties...
So when I think back to the years of memories we built together, it pains me that you didn't care enough to try. When I called you that day to ask you to be my Maid of Honor I was so nervous that you would refuse me, I don't know why because you hadn't refused me once in our entire friendship. Because of the distance, me in S.C. and you in D.C., your traditional duties were severely shortened. In the end you had a year and half to write a speech, buy a dress, and show up. You showed up in the dress, but what happened to the speech?
You stood up there and summed up our entire friendship in about two minutes. You confessed after a few drinks to a some people that you hadn't written a speech at all. You even asked a mutual friend months earlier to write the speech for you. You broke my heart. I don't know who you became, but I don't miss that person.
Part of me questioned if I ever knew you at all. A year after my wedding the truth unfolded from several sources: you took all the credit at the time for my bachelorette party yet in reality had nothing to do with it but paying your way, you never made countless phone calls and email attempts to the various bridal party members like you had claimed (some of them said they had never even heard from you once), the long speech you said you spent more than a year working on but changed at the last minute because your boyfriend told you it was too much about me (no shit, I'm the bride) was never written at all.
You never gave me a single reason why when I asked you.
After our falling out I made several attempts to reach out to you and repair our friendship. You were going to visit me two summers ago, but had to cancel for work obligations. Then I find out you made five or six trips to NY that summer never once calling me to make plans. I leave you voice messages which you don't return. I send you emails, yet get no replies. You tell my husband and some of my friends how you miss me and regret the way things went down, but do nothing to make things right. I gave you so many chances to start fresh with me and you threw each one away like it meant nothing.
I miss you and I know I shouldn't. More than three years later I still hurt even though you probably don't. And I will never completely close off that part of my heart that you belong to because I just can't. I think our friendship is a buried treasure and maybe someday we'll find it again together.
Sincerely,
Laura
I can hear clearly now, the grammar's blech
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Natalia (Free Flow Friday)
Preface: Natalia is a secondary character in both Prep School Sins and the sequel. I am contemplating if I could give her her own spin off book.
The youngest of four daughters, but without a doubt the most beautiful. Long flowing dark curly hair, deep olive skin, and penetrating hazel eyes. Her body had more curves than a roller coaster, but there was no height requirement for her ride. From a distance she looked like a princess born into a shining castle with the world served up on a silver platter. Those who knew her best would say she was all seven deadly sins wrapped up in a pretty little bow.
Natalia Fazio was unhappy and she didn't know why. The powers that be had given her a life most others would have envied: a loving family, money to buy anything her heart desired, a natural athleticism, intelligence, and a gorgeous outer shell. Despite all this she felt hollow and sought solice in drugs and sex. She craved sex the way someone would crave air after holding their breath underwater for a long time. Natalia needed to feel that physical connect with others in a way only sex could provide. And then when she prefered solitude she turned to drugs for an escape.
She resented when people called her actions thoughtless because she put lots of thought and effort into anything she did. What they didn't understand was that she just didn't give a shit about anybody but herself. While her siblings were sitting lined up like bastard puppies craving biscuits of affection, Natalia was off serving her own interests. What was her motivation? She simply did what she did to prove that she could. The best way to get Natalia to do something was to tell her she couldn't.
When she was sixteen she started screwing her younger brother's best friend. Sure she had other options, a beautiful girl like Natalia had countless options, but she wanted Reed. What initially drew her to him was that forbidden fruit concept. Reed was only fourteen; young, impressionable. She was the stranger in the white van offering him her candy. Reed was so eager to please Natalia that she could get him to do anything, anywhere, and at any time.
Thanksgiving 2000 Natalia gave herself something to be thankful for when she looted the family safe and skipped town. She traveled the country for years stretching that money and holding down odd jobs. It was amazing the path she could create for herself when she was no longer held down by the Fazio name. It was a daily dose of act now think later. Drinking, smoking pot, and sex with random strangers. Natalia was purely driven by her animalistic senses. She was Eve throwing a house party in the Garden of Eden.
The youngest of four daughters, but without a doubt the most beautiful. Long flowing dark curly hair, deep olive skin, and penetrating hazel eyes. Her body had more curves than a roller coaster, but there was no height requirement for her ride. From a distance she looked like a princess born into a shining castle with the world served up on a silver platter. Those who knew her best would say she was all seven deadly sins wrapped up in a pretty little bow.
Natalia Fazio was unhappy and she didn't know why. The powers that be had given her a life most others would have envied: a loving family, money to buy anything her heart desired, a natural athleticism, intelligence, and a gorgeous outer shell. Despite all this she felt hollow and sought solice in drugs and sex. She craved sex the way someone would crave air after holding their breath underwater for a long time. Natalia needed to feel that physical connect with others in a way only sex could provide. And then when she prefered solitude she turned to drugs for an escape.
She resented when people called her actions thoughtless because she put lots of thought and effort into anything she did. What they didn't understand was that she just didn't give a shit about anybody but herself. While her siblings were sitting lined up like bastard puppies craving biscuits of affection, Natalia was off serving her own interests. What was her motivation? She simply did what she did to prove that she could. The best way to get Natalia to do something was to tell her she couldn't.
When she was sixteen she started screwing her younger brother's best friend. Sure she had other options, a beautiful girl like Natalia had countless options, but she wanted Reed. What initially drew her to him was that forbidden fruit concept. Reed was only fourteen; young, impressionable. She was the stranger in the white van offering him her candy. Reed was so eager to please Natalia that she could get him to do anything, anywhere, and at any time.
Thanksgiving 2000 Natalia gave herself something to be thankful for when she looted the family safe and skipped town. She traveled the country for years stretching that money and holding down odd jobs. It was amazing the path she could create for herself when she was no longer held down by the Fazio name. It was a daily dose of act now think later. Drinking, smoking pot, and sex with random strangers. Natalia was purely driven by her animalistic senses. She was Eve throwing a house party in the Garden of Eden.
Customer Service is biting your tongue until it bleeds and falls off
Bitch it out Thursday.
Yes, I chose a job in customer service. Yes, part of the job entails dealing with irate customers. Yes, I know when they are yelling at me I shouldn't take it personally. Now that we got all that out of the way...
Insurance is a highly regulated industry. My company has additional regulations and procedures on top of that. I'm at the forefront of the battle that sometimes ensues between company and customer. The messenger often gets shot at.
Yesterday a Customer X gave me a verbal beat down over the phone. I have no problem getting what I deserve when I foul up. I'm human, it happens. I'll apologize profusely to a customer while they lash out about my short comings. However I get annoyed when the customer is clearly at fault but feels the need to put it all on me. Customer X can't pay her bill. I'm empathetic, but not my fault. Customer X wants to cancel her policy, but doesn't have the paperwork from DMV that we require. I understand her frustrations, but once again not my fault. Customer X screams, yells, belittles me. When I try to offer an explanation Customer X lectures me for not listening. When I stop talking she gets angry at my lack of response. Finally Customer X requests to speak with my boss because "She's the only one out of all of you with any sense in her head." Fine by me. I was fighting the urge to hang up on her at this point.
I was fuming because I am pretty sure a synonym for customer service is not toilet, so stop shitting on me.
Today is a new day. I have said my piece. Time to move on. Thank you.
Yes, I chose a job in customer service. Yes, part of the job entails dealing with irate customers. Yes, I know when they are yelling at me I shouldn't take it personally. Now that we got all that out of the way...
Insurance is a highly regulated industry. My company has additional regulations and procedures on top of that. I'm at the forefront of the battle that sometimes ensues between company and customer. The messenger often gets shot at.
Yesterday a Customer X gave me a verbal beat down over the phone. I have no problem getting what I deserve when I foul up. I'm human, it happens. I'll apologize profusely to a customer while they lash out about my short comings. However I get annoyed when the customer is clearly at fault but feels the need to put it all on me. Customer X can't pay her bill. I'm empathetic, but not my fault. Customer X wants to cancel her policy, but doesn't have the paperwork from DMV that we require. I understand her frustrations, but once again not my fault. Customer X screams, yells, belittles me. When I try to offer an explanation Customer X lectures me for not listening. When I stop talking she gets angry at my lack of response. Finally Customer X requests to speak with my boss because "She's the only one out of all of you with any sense in her head." Fine by me. I was fighting the urge to hang up on her at this point.
I was fuming because I am pretty sure a synonym for customer service is not toilet, so stop shitting on me.
Today is a new day. I have said my piece. Time to move on. Thank you.
Slaying the Stigma
This is my first "Nobody Interview". The subject is Kellie Roylance- Canestrari. Since May is Mental Health Month I felt inspired to kick off the interviews talking about Mental Illness. I would like to thank Kellie for agreeing to participate and being so open about her condition with all of us.
1. How do we know each other?
We have a mutual friend and used to work together
2. Have you been formerly diagnosed?
and if so, what is your diagnosis?
Yes - previously diagnosed with depression.....recently in December diagnosed with PTSD and Bipolar Disorder
3.What is the hardest thing about living with a mental illness?
The stigma associated with it. The misconception that I cannot live with a mental illness and be a good mother to my children. That I cannot handle any "stress"......that I need someone to take care of me.
4. You have two young children. How much of your condition are they aware of?
Chaz (her son) especially knows that I have a therapist as he does - I tell him that this is someone that I go and talk to about how I feel - it's someone that is not my friend or my family.....they just listen and help me stay strong. As far as my actual diagnosis, they really don't know anything......when I attempted suicide, they were told that I was very tired and needed to take a rest to get stronger. They see me take my meds and I tell them that they help me stay strong so that I don't have to go into the hospital again.
5. No two people that suffer from Mental Illness are the same, even if they are suffering from the same condition. What has personally helped you along the way? What hasn't?
My spirituality has helped me tremendously. It keeps me focused on what really matters. It keeps me in touch with my body. My children are an amazing source of strength to me - just looking in their eyes or hearing their voice. It is immeasurable.
"Friends" who are judgemental of me or my behavior while "cycling" down has never helped me. After all is said and done, and the dust has settled, I look around and see those still standing by my side......that is what really matters. Not those who treat me like a mental patient even when I am not in the hospital.
6. How many times have you been in the hospital? Why do you think in general so many people that suffer with Mental Illness end up hospitalized several times?
Twice. For people suffering from conditions like depression or bipolar, I think it is an issue of medication. The medication either stops working or the person stops taking it. For more severe conditions like schizophrenia, I honestly don't think our society knows how to handle these people. The police see them as out of control and treat them like criminals. That ends up in another hospitalization.
7. You told us how you explained to your children your condition, but how do you explain it to the adults in your life who don't understand?
I tell them my brain has a short circuit somewhere......my highs are really high and my lows are really low. My medication helps to regulate this so that I can live a "normal" life on an even keel.
8. How did you find the right medication? Are you on the right medication in your opinion?
I believe it was thru trial and error. Working with my psychology team to find the right "cocktail".......and I don't know yet if I am on the right medication. The side effects of Lithium are exactly my favorite - weight gain, trembles, did I mention weight gain? Dry skin, weight gain. But mentally it has given me some balance.
9. Many remain "closeted" about their conditions because of the stigma and judgments that you talk about. I admire your bravery about being so open. Were you always this way when it came to your Mental Illness? Any advice you can give others who may still be trying to find the strength?
I suppose I was always so open. It was a part of me - I had to own it in order to be able to live with it. If I hide it and stuff it down, then I am living a lie, aren't I? And I refuse to do that. My advice would be just that - to own it. To accept it as a part of you. Love yourself - all the parts, even the mental illness. It makes you who you are.
10. I want to thank you once again for not only being part of my "Nobody Interviews" on my blog, although you a definitely a huge somebody to me, to end things on a lighter note I have a silly question I will end all my interviews on. If you could be any type of breakfast cereal, what would you be and why?
Honey Bunches of Oats - Not only am I good for you but I am sweet with a little crunch too! :)
1. How do we know each other?
We have a mutual friend and used to work together
2. Have you been formerly diagnosed?
and if so, what is your diagnosis?
Yes - previously diagnosed with depression.....recently in December diagnosed with PTSD and Bipolar Disorder
3.What is the hardest thing about living with a mental illness?
The stigma associated with it. The misconception that I cannot live with a mental illness and be a good mother to my children. That I cannot handle any "stress"......that I need someone to take care of me.
4. You have two young children. How much of your condition are they aware of?
Chaz (her son) especially knows that I have a therapist as he does - I tell him that this is someone that I go and talk to about how I feel - it's someone that is not my friend or my family.....they just listen and help me stay strong. As far as my actual diagnosis, they really don't know anything......when I attempted suicide, they were told that I was very tired and needed to take a rest to get stronger. They see me take my meds and I tell them that they help me stay strong so that I don't have to go into the hospital again.
5. No two people that suffer from Mental Illness are the same, even if they are suffering from the same condition. What has personally helped you along the way? What hasn't?
My spirituality has helped me tremendously. It keeps me focused on what really matters. It keeps me in touch with my body. My children are an amazing source of strength to me - just looking in their eyes or hearing their voice. It is immeasurable.
"Friends" who are judgemental of me or my behavior while "cycling" down has never helped me. After all is said and done, and the dust has settled, I look around and see those still standing by my side......that is what really matters. Not those who treat me like a mental patient even when I am not in the hospital.
6. How many times have you been in the hospital? Why do you think in general so many people that suffer with Mental Illness end up hospitalized several times?
Twice. For people suffering from conditions like depression or bipolar, I think it is an issue of medication. The medication either stops working or the person stops taking it. For more severe conditions like schizophrenia, I honestly don't think our society knows how to handle these people. The police see them as out of control and treat them like criminals. That ends up in another hospitalization.
7. You told us how you explained to your children your condition, but how do you explain it to the adults in your life who don't understand?
I tell them my brain has a short circuit somewhere......my highs are really high and my lows are really low. My medication helps to regulate this so that I can live a "normal" life on an even keel.
8. How did you find the right medication? Are you on the right medication in your opinion?
I believe it was thru trial and error. Working with my psychology team to find the right "cocktail".......and I don't know yet if I am on the right medication. The side effects of Lithium are exactly my favorite - weight gain, trembles, did I mention weight gain? Dry skin, weight gain. But mentally it has given me some balance.
9. Many remain "closeted" about their conditions because of the stigma and judgments that you talk about. I admire your bravery about being so open. Were you always this way when it came to your Mental Illness? Any advice you can give others who may still be trying to find the strength?
I suppose I was always so open. It was a part of me - I had to own it in order to be able to live with it. If I hide it and stuff it down, then I am living a lie, aren't I? And I refuse to do that. My advice would be just that - to own it. To accept it as a part of you. Love yourself - all the parts, even the mental illness. It makes you who you are.
10. I want to thank you once again for not only being part of my "Nobody Interviews" on my blog, although you a definitely a huge somebody to me, to end things on a lighter note I have a silly question I will end all my interviews on. If you could be any type of breakfast cereal, what would you be and why?
Honey Bunches of Oats - Not only am I good for you but I am sweet with a little crunch too! :)
When Envy Met Gluttony
This is my first confessional Tuesday. I was wondering just how personal I should get here, but then again I don't even know how many people are actually reading my blogs on a regular basis. (Aside from Claire and Gina who consistently leave comments).
Antonio and I have been trying to conceive for more than two years. It was last August I started to see an OBGYN who specialized in reproductive issues. And it was that appointment in August when the word "infertility" first came up.
Antonio was tested: green light, good to go, have fun!
I was tested: sounds of car coming to screeching halt
The doctor says, "You could have all the unprotected sex in the world and you wouldn't get pregnant."
I joke, "Well I wish I had known this when I was younger!"
All joking aside. It is my fault we can't conceive. I undergo further testing as to the exact reason why my body doesn't like to drop eggs. The tests don't tell us why. So I start my first round of Clomid. I'm couch-ridden day one I'm so violently ill. Then come the cramps, nausea, extreme mood swings (even extreme for me folks) and overall body aches. I think of the positive "my body must really be taking to this drug." But the sad fact is my body only took the negative effects of the medicine and none of the positive. An ultrasound confirms my body still didn't release an egg. So next month Doc will up the dosage which means upping the side effects and we'll try again. Meanwhile there will be some stupid teenager accidentally conceiving a child in the backseat of a beat down Chevy.
If it doesn't work out you guys should adopt! Can't. First of all it is much more expensive to adopt a child than to pop one out. We can't afford the lawyers and red tape fees involved. Second because of my history of mental illness the powers that be would never give me a child. They do extensive background checks and I have had three hospitalizations in my adult hood. So once again it's my fault.
Consumed with guilt over our circumstances I start to overindulge in ice cream, cake, cookies, fill in the blank. The majority of the time I don't even enjoy the food I'm eating, I barely even taste it. I'm eating to make myself physically sick. I'm punishing myself for being infertile. Funny enough it took me nine months of binge eating to realize this. It was never about the food, it was about another method for hurting myself. This is no different from when I used to take a knife to my arm.
First step is realizing why. Okay, done. Next step is figuring out how to change it.
Antonio and I have been trying to conceive for more than two years. It was last August I started to see an OBGYN who specialized in reproductive issues. And it was that appointment in August when the word "infertility" first came up.
Antonio was tested: green light, good to go, have fun!
I was tested: sounds of car coming to screeching halt
The doctor says, "You could have all the unprotected sex in the world and you wouldn't get pregnant."
I joke, "Well I wish I had known this when I was younger!"
All joking aside. It is my fault we can't conceive. I undergo further testing as to the exact reason why my body doesn't like to drop eggs. The tests don't tell us why. So I start my first round of Clomid. I'm couch-ridden day one I'm so violently ill. Then come the cramps, nausea, extreme mood swings (even extreme for me folks) and overall body aches. I think of the positive "my body must really be taking to this drug." But the sad fact is my body only took the negative effects of the medicine and none of the positive. An ultrasound confirms my body still didn't release an egg. So next month Doc will up the dosage which means upping the side effects and we'll try again. Meanwhile there will be some stupid teenager accidentally conceiving a child in the backseat of a beat down Chevy.
If it doesn't work out you guys should adopt! Can't. First of all it is much more expensive to adopt a child than to pop one out. We can't afford the lawyers and red tape fees involved. Second because of my history of mental illness the powers that be would never give me a child. They do extensive background checks and I have had three hospitalizations in my adult hood. So once again it's my fault.
Consumed with guilt over our circumstances I start to overindulge in ice cream, cake, cookies, fill in the blank. The majority of the time I don't even enjoy the food I'm eating, I barely even taste it. I'm eating to make myself physically sick. I'm punishing myself for being infertile. Funny enough it took me nine months of binge eating to realize this. It was never about the food, it was about another method for hurting myself. This is no different from when I used to take a knife to my arm.
First step is realizing why. Okay, done. Next step is figuring out how to change it.
Nightlight
Welcome to my first "Trial and Error" Monday Blog.
At 29 years old I still sleep with a nightlight. Sometimes it's not a literal night light that you plug into the wall, but a lamp or a hallway light, just something to keep the Boogie Man away.
I'll confess, although I am supposed to save that until tomorrow, that this "Trial and Error" was completely accidental. I wound up so consumed by editing my MS and Mother's Day weekend that I forgot to try something new. And coincidentally I forget to do something routine, turn on my nightlight before I went to bed.
Huddled up in bed by myself I felt safe. As many of you know I have pretty graphic nightmares about dark events from my past. When I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart racing, drenched in sweat, and gripping my sheets for dear life it helps to see that glimmer of light to guide me back down to reality.
The results are mixed. I had a horrible night of sleep because I woke up probably every thirty minutes. Maybe I have grown addicted to that light. My mind knew something was off and couldn't completely relax because of it. I do think it's an experiment worth repeating though. After all I still have my blankey and stuffed animals to protect me from the things that go bump in my head.
At 29 years old I still sleep with a nightlight. Sometimes it's not a literal night light that you plug into the wall, but a lamp or a hallway light, just something to keep the Boogie Man away.
I'll confess, although I am supposed to save that until tomorrow, that this "Trial and Error" was completely accidental. I wound up so consumed by editing my MS and Mother's Day weekend that I forgot to try something new. And coincidentally I forget to do something routine, turn on my nightlight before I went to bed.
Huddled up in bed by myself I felt safe. As many of you know I have pretty graphic nightmares about dark events from my past. When I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart racing, drenched in sweat, and gripping my sheets for dear life it helps to see that glimmer of light to guide me back down to reality.
The results are mixed. I had a horrible night of sleep because I woke up probably every thirty minutes. Maybe I have grown addicted to that light. My mind knew something was off and couldn't completely relax because of it. I do think it's an experiment worth repeating though. After all I still have my blankey and stuffed animals to protect me from the things that go bump in my head.
Pimp my Blog
A therapist once unofficially diagnosed me as having "Obsessive Compulsive Order". I have this dire need to organize by color, shape, alphabetically. It's true at one point I hung the shirts in my closet on hangers that matched the color of the shirt (black hanger black shirt, pink hanger pink shirt). It's also true that I once alphabetized the magazines on the coffee table of a waiting room. And yes I have a filing cabinet at home with hanging folders for various household paperwork.
So thanks to Claire, I have furthered my compulsion with my blog. I want a theme to keep me on track for what I post when. It'll also help when I am at a complete loss for what to post.
Monday - Trial and Error. I'll explain something completely new I tried over the weekend whether it be cuisine or activity and how that experience went. These might be somewhat comical.
Tuesday- Confessional. This will be a personal blog much like the one I posted yesterday. Something in depth about me. This is about getting out of my shell.
Wednesday- The Nobody Interview. It's easy to interview someone whose famous for something, but how about someone who is currently a no one? Maybe it'll be about their job, a hobby, or their basic view on life. After all almost everyone who is famous now was a regular Joe Schmo once upon a time.
Thursday- Bitch It Out. Every once in a while I just need to vent. It might be about the guy who cut me off on the way to work or the on-going love/hate relationship with my GPS. This is to allot myself 1 day to rant and prevent me from doing it more regularly.
Friday- Free Flow. It could be a short story or poetry, but something original to keep those juices flowing.
If I post on the weekend it'll be off the cuff and free format. I'll let my hair down. Now as good as I am at making road maps, I am horrible at following them, at least long term. So we'll see how this goes. Program set to initiate Monday 5/10/10
So thanks to Claire, I have furthered my compulsion with my blog. I want a theme to keep me on track for what I post when. It'll also help when I am at a complete loss for what to post.
Monday - Trial and Error. I'll explain something completely new I tried over the weekend whether it be cuisine or activity and how that experience went. These might be somewhat comical.
Tuesday- Confessional. This will be a personal blog much like the one I posted yesterday. Something in depth about me. This is about getting out of my shell.
Wednesday- The Nobody Interview. It's easy to interview someone whose famous for something, but how about someone who is currently a no one? Maybe it'll be about their job, a hobby, or their basic view on life. After all almost everyone who is famous now was a regular Joe Schmo once upon a time.
Thursday- Bitch It Out. Every once in a while I just need to vent. It might be about the guy who cut me off on the way to work or the on-going love/hate relationship with my GPS. This is to allot myself 1 day to rant and prevent me from doing it more regularly.
Friday- Free Flow. It could be a short story or poetry, but something original to keep those juices flowing.
If I post on the weekend it'll be off the cuff and free format. I'll let my hair down. Now as good as I am at making road maps, I am horrible at following them, at least long term. So we'll see how this goes. Program set to initiate Monday 5/10/10
Coming out of Hiding
Hopefully people will respect what I am doing rather than judge me.
When I was seven years old I ran into the bathroom of my babysitters house with tears streaming down my face. Charlotte, the babysitter, had just brutally reprimanded me in front of the three other children she watched. Behind the closed door of the bathroom I could hear the children laughing at the whole situation. "There goes Laura again. What a cry baby." I wanted to scream or throw something, but I didn't.
This time it wasn't just tears. Consumed by the emotions inside me I scraped the skin of my left hand with the jagged short nails of my right hand. As the warm blood crawled to the surface I felt relief. As I held my left hand over the sink I watched the blood drops go down the drain. I lost a part of myself that I could never get back.
Everyone has a way to deal with their inner demons. Self mutilation was mine. I could do it anywhere any time when life became too much for me. The vast majority of my damage was hidden underneath clothing. No one taught me how to do this. I can't blame TV, videogames, or hanging with the wrong crowd...this was just the way I was wired.
I have lived in shame thinking I was the only one. Like you can't understand the appeal of smoking unless you're a smoker, you can't understand the euphoric effects of mutilation unless you're a mutilator. It was like I was two different people at the same time: the logical part argued why I did this in the first place while the emotional side argued I needed the pain on the outside to justify all the pain I was feeling on the inside.
People who did find out thought I was a freak. But what makes my method of destruction so different from those who take their violence out on others, drown their sorrows in alcohol, or overeat? None of these are particularly positive, but in the moment they work. I guess mine is just less socially acceptable. I'm not proud. And to this day I still blame myself for the way I am.
In and out of therapy since I was eight, four hospitalizations, two suicide attempts, and countless medications later I am still here.
I am done being silent. I am done feeling ashamed of a condition I didn't ask for. Mental Illness has this horrible stigma attached to it. People don't think it's real. Why can't I just snap out of it or get over it? Isn't there some magic pill I can take? For me I have been fighting this battle for over twenty years. There are no cures, only a multitude of treatments, and believe me when I say from personal experience it's a grueling trial and error process. But it all starts with me.
I need to stop blaming myself. It is not my fault. Maybe someday I'll actually believe it. I have decided the best story I can write is my own. Call it non-fiction, memoir, autobiography, ect. Next month I will start the healing process by putting down on paper what I have gone through. I think it will not only help me, but so many others out there like me because as it turns out I am not alone.
When I was seven years old I ran into the bathroom of my babysitters house with tears streaming down my face. Charlotte, the babysitter, had just brutally reprimanded me in front of the three other children she watched. Behind the closed door of the bathroom I could hear the children laughing at the whole situation. "There goes Laura again. What a cry baby." I wanted to scream or throw something, but I didn't.
This time it wasn't just tears. Consumed by the emotions inside me I scraped the skin of my left hand with the jagged short nails of my right hand. As the warm blood crawled to the surface I felt relief. As I held my left hand over the sink I watched the blood drops go down the drain. I lost a part of myself that I could never get back.
Everyone has a way to deal with their inner demons. Self mutilation was mine. I could do it anywhere any time when life became too much for me. The vast majority of my damage was hidden underneath clothing. No one taught me how to do this. I can't blame TV, videogames, or hanging with the wrong crowd...this was just the way I was wired.
I have lived in shame thinking I was the only one. Like you can't understand the appeal of smoking unless you're a smoker, you can't understand the euphoric effects of mutilation unless you're a mutilator. It was like I was two different people at the same time: the logical part argued why I did this in the first place while the emotional side argued I needed the pain on the outside to justify all the pain I was feeling on the inside.
People who did find out thought I was a freak. But what makes my method of destruction so different from those who take their violence out on others, drown their sorrows in alcohol, or overeat? None of these are particularly positive, but in the moment they work. I guess mine is just less socially acceptable. I'm not proud. And to this day I still blame myself for the way I am.
In and out of therapy since I was eight, four hospitalizations, two suicide attempts, and countless medications later I am still here.
I am done being silent. I am done feeling ashamed of a condition I didn't ask for. Mental Illness has this horrible stigma attached to it. People don't think it's real. Why can't I just snap out of it or get over it? Isn't there some magic pill I can take? For me I have been fighting this battle for over twenty years. There are no cures, only a multitude of treatments, and believe me when I say from personal experience it's a grueling trial and error process. But it all starts with me.
I need to stop blaming myself. It is not my fault. Maybe someday I'll actually believe it. I have decided the best story I can write is my own. Call it non-fiction, memoir, autobiography, ect. Next month I will start the healing process by putting down on paper what I have gone through. I think it will not only help me, but so many others out there like me because as it turns out I am not alone.
No title seems fitting
The results are in from my ultrasound this morning. The clomid didn't work. I asked my OBGYN if my husband and I should still go forward with the sex schedule this month. She said, "It won't hurt, but I don't see anything happening either." The game plan is to increase the dosage next month, run another test, and see if that round works.
Do I even have a right to be angry? And if so, at who? It's no ones fault I am infertile. It just is what it is. So screaming and kicking things might feel good in the moment but they won't bring me a baby.
Should I cry? I have cried so many times over this already. The pain is so deep when I realize there is a chance that I may never be a mother. Crying won't bring me a baby either.
For reasons I can't get into right now I am unable to adopt. I would love to adopt, but the system won't allow me. So if I don't have a baby by my own means, then it just won't happen.
Those who have known me a long time know my life has been a constant struggle. Nothing comes easy. Everything is some epic battle. An incurable health condition since I was three, more than a decade of bullying and torment in school/professional world, and now this whole baby thing. Am I perfect? Far from it. But I would like to believe that I am a good person who lives my life being honest, respectful, and kind. When do I get my turn in the sunshine?
It is what it is. I am what I am. It'll be what it'll be. And I'll forge forward because I don't know any other way. I just wonder if it'll ever get better and if so when? I've been waiting more than twenty years for the answer to that question.
Do I even have a right to be angry? And if so, at who? It's no ones fault I am infertile. It just is what it is. So screaming and kicking things might feel good in the moment but they won't bring me a baby.
Should I cry? I have cried so many times over this already. The pain is so deep when I realize there is a chance that I may never be a mother. Crying won't bring me a baby either.
For reasons I can't get into right now I am unable to adopt. I would love to adopt, but the system won't allow me. So if I don't have a baby by my own means, then it just won't happen.
Those who have known me a long time know my life has been a constant struggle. Nothing comes easy. Everything is some epic battle. An incurable health condition since I was three, more than a decade of bullying and torment in school/professional world, and now this whole baby thing. Am I perfect? Far from it. But I would like to believe that I am a good person who lives my life being honest, respectful, and kind. When do I get my turn in the sunshine?
It is what it is. I am what I am. It'll be what it'll be. And I'll forge forward because I don't know any other way. I just wonder if it'll ever get better and if so when? I've been waiting more than twenty years for the answer to that question.
Where My Heart Is
Judgment
I stand before you to state my case
Although the verdict had already been branded across my face
Guilty of destroying my innocence in one single act
Please place compassion where my own judgment lacked
Pleading for a second chance despite my shameful crime
When I realize all the faces on the jury are mine
When I started writing around seven years old it was poetry. Gradually I moved onto short stories, plays, and eventually my first novel. During the process of writing my novel I found myself inserting original poetry just like the one above. It reminded me where my heart has always been. Although I love the journey writing this novel has taken me on, I want to get back to my roots. Over the next several weeks I will be scouring old journals, notebooks, and computer drives for my poetry. Unfortunately most stuff before college will be lost, but that will only compel me to write new stuff. I want to gather about 50 pieces and put together an anthology. This is not INSTEAD of editing my first novel or working on my second, but in ADDITION to.
More writing might mean less of the negative things I do in my spare time.
I stand before you to state my case
Although the verdict had already been branded across my face
Guilty of destroying my innocence in one single act
Please place compassion where my own judgment lacked
Pleading for a second chance despite my shameful crime
When I realize all the faces on the jury are mine
When I started writing around seven years old it was poetry. Gradually I moved onto short stories, plays, and eventually my first novel. During the process of writing my novel I found myself inserting original poetry just like the one above. It reminded me where my heart has always been. Although I love the journey writing this novel has taken me on, I want to get back to my roots. Over the next several weeks I will be scouring old journals, notebooks, and computer drives for my poetry. Unfortunately most stuff before college will be lost, but that will only compel me to write new stuff. I want to gather about 50 pieces and put together an anthology. This is not INSTEAD of editing my first novel or working on my second, but in ADDITION to.
More writing might mean less of the negative things I do in my spare time.
About Me
- ElbieNy25
- "Scars are proof that we were brave enough to fight the battle and strong enough to survive it"-me 2008 Unfortunately/fortunately I have many scars from life, but I'm still here. I've been writing for over twenty years and just recently finished my first manuscript entitled "The Journey". I love peopl; they fascinate me with their stories, quirks, and mysterious ways.