There's so much to do but I don't wanna do it but there's so little time but I'm still not having it but I'm gonna do it anyway.

Y'all... I woke up in a weird kind of mood this morning. I don't know what it is... clarity... wistfulness... a mental break that I haven't had yet... TBD really. The point is... it's a weird mood. Not bad... just... yeah.

I feel like I have so much energy that I'm gonna bust. Somehow I feel like I could accomplish the goals of five people in a six month period... but condensed into like three hours.

I also feel like I could curl up in my bed with my babies in jammies and not move for the next seventy-two hours. 

Neither of which I can do. Because WTF is even happening right now.

Honestly, I feel like it has something to do with my anxiety and the emotional roller coaster I've been on (against my will BTW... get me OFF this up and down bullshit). I'm neither here nor there but I'm everywhere all at once. One minute I'm perfectly fine with the mindset "it is what it is" and four minutes later I'm damn near hyperventilating and nauseous. I psych myself up even when I'm trying to talk myself down. I know I'm being ridiculous and unreasonable and too much. I'm literally trying to stop it every minute of every day and failing horrifically. Ask my sleep schedule and appetite, they'll tell you. 

Is this a snap? Feels like a snap.

Speaking of snap... there's a freeze one coming through for us. Which probably doesn't help this weird bubble world I'm living in. It's frigid and lifeless outside. Probably because we're all living that penguin life... without the body index to back it up.

It's been so damn cold... and yet I still walked out of my house without my sweatshirt on lunch yesterday and almost did the exact same thing today... how on Earth did I manage that? I even knew I was extra frozen and STILL got all the way back before I realized it... just shows you where my state of mind is.

As in... running on fumes... can't focus or function correctly... basically surviving on instinct and spite. Hopefully, this weekend is productive and cozy and amazing and everything my family and I need it to be (just us with a side of peacefulness).

Really trying to manifest that good life shit but quite literally just taking it one day at a time. That's all we can do, right? At least, that's what my adoring husband says.

One day at a time, baby. One. Day. At. A. Time.

We're in the process of: get us the f*ck outta here.😵‍💫😮‍💨🥴

Have you ever been... done? Like, I don't like it... I can't take it... I don't want it... done? Happened to us. And why did it happen to us? You can thank this city and all it encompasses. 

Where to start? More shootings and violence down the street from us than you can shake a stick at. It's ridiculous and overwhelming. Do you know how disheartening it is to turn on the radio and constantly hear your neighborhood on the news? And yeah, I know there's violence and horrible shit no matter where you go... but the fact there are almost a million people in this city and people don't give a shit to open their crazy in the streets with innocent bystanders... well... here we are. And I want to get the f*ck OUT. I just picture the life I have... the life I want... and they are very different.

The life I want doesn't include nasty people, or terrible situations, or overwhelming amounts of stress. The life I currently have... does. And I want peace and calm and stability. I want to be able to be my weird self and those around me just love me for me... no other reason or rhyme, no manipulations, no guilt, no judgment, just because I'm me and they love me.

So... I went to my boss. And I laid it all out. Told her about the stress and nastiness of our surroundings being overwhelming. I want out of this city and situation. But... I love my job, so it was the last man standing between me and this decision. I don't want to leave my job... I've built it for going on fourteen years and it's a piece of me. Something I take pride in. Something I have complete faith and confidence in doing. I asked to transition to a remote position. And I asked this with the understanding that it wasn't guaranteed, but with the thought that I was willing to give/take and do so much to make it work, that it could be a very real possibility. I know everyone in a company is expendable. I have no illusions that I run the show (I'm very aware I don't), but I have always done whatever is asked of me and I have exceeded every single expectation that they have ever presented to me. I've helped pull the company back from the brink multiple times. Not on my own, but as a dedicated member of the team. Put policies and procedures in place to ensure the company could move forward and streamlined as much as possible. Again, not on my own... but as a dedicated member of the team. They've quite literally never presented me with an issue where I didn't look at it and say, well, we gotta do what we gotta do and then we got it done.

But... the answer was no. I couldn't really tell you the reasoning why other than it's "not feasible" and comes down to "financial" at the end of the day. I was asked though... could I train this other girl in the office to do my job and then work for my company until I'm settled once I move and then I can figure out my next steps? I mean, sure? I guess I'll just do my job until you decide you don't need me anymore and then call it a day? Thanks for not just kicking me to the curb immediately I reckon.

Fourteen years. Damn near a decade and a half. And here we are. 
Guess they really didn't like the green hair.

Anyways... our will to get the f*ck out of Indy hasn't changed. We're doing it differently than what we imagined and I'm certainly more terrified of this change than I've ever been, but I'm also excited and ready to get the f*ck out of here. I'm ready to have peaceful mornings and be in the country and live a small and quiet life with my husband and our babies. 

Should've cut bait when I lost my Momma. Really should've cut bait when we got tackled by a guy with a knife on our motorcycle going over 40 mph. Should've cut bait when my brother did whatever it is he does. I'm learning I should've done this a long f*cking time ago.

I think people are forgetting the fact it takes very little to make us happy and I don't actually have the need to have a "career." Bro, I love it and I'm proud of it... but... I'll be ok with just a job too. Doesn't have to be a career. We can literally just work to live, not live to work. And Walmart seems to be hiring night shift.

We don't need alot... and we'll figure out the rest. The most important part? It's that we have each other, we're in this together, and one way or the other, we will figure it out. Starting with getting ready to sell this house and bounce.

So... watch out, Florida. Because within the next year (if we can manage to pull this shit off), the Glissons are coming back. And this time, we're coming home to stay. (Not counting the fact we'll see you next week for Thanksgiving).

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” -Anne Lamott

💙My Uncle Wayne was a great man and I will truly miss him.💙💙

My Uncle Wayne was a good man... a fair man. Really... kind of a legend. Seriously, ask anyone that knew him well. He hasn't been in our industry for going on thirty years and we still have people ask about him to this day. That's how amazing and completely memorable he was. He was one of those men that even when you know death comes for everyone eventually, you kind of thought he might avoid it. At least, I kind of did. 

He always seemed so much bigger in life than what I could ever imagine. I've been blessed enough throughout my life that I got to spend time with him... from a child whose uncle made her dreams come true by showing up Christmas Eve with a Barbie dreamhouse... to a preteen who ate fried fish with sunburnt cheeks... to a teenager making his drinks and serving his supper... to an adult when I got to take my husband to his house and just visit and be. There are so many things I want to say and so many feelings I feel... but I don't know how to get them all out at once. Like with most things, I would think this is something I deal with bit by bit. Piece by piece. And manic cleaning and decluttering one step after the other.

I'm going to miss Uncle Wayne. In so many ways. I'm going to miss our random phone calls and how no matter what, he always had some advice and what felt like, my back. I truly hope he's now at peace and the people who were there at the end for their own selfishness, reap what they sow. I hope he can rest easy knowing he's reunited in spirit with Aunt Linda and the girls. And honestly? I hope he's proud of what he left behind. A life well lived and a legacy to rival that of anyone you come across. And maybe, just maybe, a little of me too. Because he was the kind of man you wanted to make proud. And I hope I do.

Harold Wayne Fullen, 79, of Astor Florida passed away on May 20, 2025. He was a loving son, husband, brother and friend. If help was needed, Wayne was there to offer a hand and an encouraging word.

Wayne was born in Clinchco, Virginia on November 29, 1945, to Charlie and Rebecca “Lucile” Fullen. The Fullens then relocated to Indianapolis, Indiana during Wayne’s childhood.

At the young age of 17 in 1962, Wayne joined the United States Marine Corps. He remained on active duty until August of 1965 as an MP whereupon he returned to Indianapolis to his family and friends.

On March 12, 1966, Wayne was married to Linda Lou (Blankenship) Fullen in Indianapolis, Indiana. They remained in Indiana until 2014 when they relocated to Astor, Florida. Wayne and Linda had 2 dogs, Leelee and Tina, who were their 4-legged children. Leelee and Tina were very well-loved. Wayne and Linda remained happily married until Linda’s passing in June of 2019.

Wayne was a member of the Scottish Rite, Northern Masonic Jurisdiction, 32° Freemasons and the Murat Shriners since 1974.

Wayne was a founding member of Superior Carpet Installers, Inc. in 1966 and later became owner and president of the company. Wayne will be remembered by many in the flooring industry for his hard work, grit and determination as well as his savvy business sense. He remained in control of the company until 1996 when he sold the company to the employees by creating an ESOP. Wayne then retired in 1998 after 32 years of owning and operating Superior Carpet Installers, Inc.

Wayne was an avid bass fisherman for many, many years. When relocating to Astor, Florida, Wayne and Linda lived on the St. John’s River where Wayne enjoyed fishing and boating for leisure. He is well known to all for this fishing – catching the fish and also hosting frequent fish fries to share his bounty with family and friends alike.

Wayne is preceded in death by his wife, his parents, brother Mitchell “Mickey” Fullen, brother James Fullen, brother Bobby Fullen, sister Patricia “Patty” Fullen and sister Peggy Austin. He leaves behind brother Russell “Rusty” Fullen, many nieces and nephews as well as many more great nieces and great nephews.

Wayne has requested that no service be held. In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to the Murat Shriners at https://www.muratshriners.com/jacoby.

It feels hollow and cold... there's just a massive piece missing.💔

The last four days have been... debilitating. I can think of no other word that encompasses the feeling of this. It's sad and I feel cold... down to my bones and throughout my entire body. There's a hollow feeling in my chest and three out of four times when I open my mouth to speak... tears.

We had to say goodbye to our baby, Xur-Xur. 

My big, strong, cuddly grizzly bear got too sick too fast and there was nothing we could do. Literally... nothing. We tried... I begged... BEGGED the vet to give me any other option to where my baby could have a good life and we could keep him. But... there was nothing.

It all started with that hip... when he originally hurt it we made him take it easy and we iced. It seemed to be getting better... slowly but surely... and then he hurt it again. So... we started over with the rest and the ice and again... it started doing better. But then, last week it reverted and kept getting worse instead of better. So... Thursday we loaded our baby up and took him to the doctor.

We had no clue what they were going to tell us. We assumed he would be loaded up on meds... have to have physical therapy... maybe even surgery. Our "worst case scenario" was an amputation or something, because again, we had no clue what was going on. But, he was in constant pain and getting around was terrible for him... so... doctor.

But the news we got... what the fuck? Our baby wasn't just hurt. Our baby had advanced and aggressive osteosarcoma that had already metastasized to his lungs. Our vet pulled up the xrays and my baby was lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. I went through all the options... everything... trying to find some route that let Xur stay with us, but make sure he could have a good quality of life as well. 

And then that vet had to essentially look me in my eyes and tell me there was absolutely nothing we could do for him that wouldn't make him feel a thousand times worse than he already did. Once we came to that fork in the road and we knew there was no "saving" or "improving" we asked how long we would have with him. And if shit wasn't bad enough, he again had to look me in the eyes and tell me they could give me enough meds to keep him "comfy" so we could "have the weekend" but extending it past that would be... well... not recommended.

With that devastating news... we loaded our baby in the car and brought him home and spent Thursday night through Monday morning together. We did everything we possibly could to make him comfy, shower him with affection and love, and just try to make him see how much we love him. He ate all the foods he usually doesn't get (and was a big fan of bacon), got as many cuddles as we could give (you know, the kind we could give because we had to be careful not to hurt him). He had visitors and even his Gma flew up from Florida on Sunday evening so he could spend some time with her.

By the time we were supposed to take him in on Monday, it was very clear to us why they said not to extend any longer. In a matter of three days our baby had lost even more weight (he had already lost a ridiculous amount in a small amount of time), his leg was six times the size it should have been, he could hardly move, his breathing was labored at best and he was never comfortable. Essentially, he was hurting but holding on for us.

But even with all that going on and knowing what we knew... having to make that decision is fucking haunting. No, I didn't want my baby to be hurt or sick... I wanted him to be the free-loving wild card he's always been and I wanted to cuddle him and kiss him and keep him forever. Once that option was no longer on the table... the anger, sadness, disbelief, and emptiness started rearing it's ugly head.

There are so many questions that we'll never have answers to. The fact that we are very much NOT ok with the circumstances doesn't change them. And I know everybody whose ever loved has to deal with this, it's a fact of life, but knowing that doesn't help get you through it when it's your turn.

I want my baby back. I want my grizzly bear to give me cuddles and keep me warm. I want him to get up with me first thing in the morning and wander the house and check in on things while I'm getting ready. I want to be outside with him in the dark to feel safe and I want about fourteen million more excessive kisses. I want to lay my head on his chest and burrow in.

I am not ok. My husband is not ok. And our other two babies are not ok. Xur-Xur not being with us has left a massive hole and none of us know how to fill it. I know we'll move forward together... we love each other... we're a family... but I would be lying if I said our family didn't feel a little lost and broken right now. He was the glue and the comfort and the warmth and how do you account for that when it's no longer there?

We know we did the right thing. Deep down in our bones, we know. We would never want Xur in pain and only wanted amazing things for him. He was the best pieces of both me and Dev that we had to offer the world. But knowing it was right, and coming to terms with it are completely different. We didn't want this... we wanted our baby. I still want my baby and honestly, I kind of want to crawl into a ball and cry and scream until somebody gives me my way. Except, they can't. Because no one or nothing can fix this. And that fucking sucks.

I don't know what happens from here. I don't know what our family is supposed to do or what the dynamic is or how any of this is going to work. We're all just so very lost and so fucking sad.

We all love our Xur-Xur something fierce, we'll miss him always and there will never be another pup that is like him. He was unique and had so much damn love to give. I miss him... I'll continue to miss him... our family will always love and miss him.

He may no longer be here next to us, but he's very much still here. In our minds... in our hearts. In every decision I have to make where love is involved, that's his sweet spot.

Rest easy, my big ole grizzly bear. Thank you so very much for letting me be your mama... it was the greatest gift and something I'll never be able to repay you for. You keep watching out for us and we'll continue to carry you with us until the day we come to join you. I love you so much, Bubs.

💜If you were here to see sixty... you'd deny you were sixty.💜

Today is Momma's 60th birthday and with that comes alot of emotions. Emotions that I would rather not deal with and so... I've decided to spend the day in happy instead of sadness.

I truly believe Momma looks out for me and still checks in on occasion (or maybe I'm just insane... two things can be true!) and she wants all the happiness for me. While my life looks different... it's because I'm different... I've come to learn and accept and try to process the things I've learned and realized throughout this year. 

It's been alot... and overwhelming. And while I have many things on my mind... the fact that I still love my Momma will forever reign the helm. I can't talk about her without feeling all the things... so I leave it with: 

Happy Birthday, Momma. I know you'd be just as beautiful today as you were the last day we spent together and all the days before that. I love you and I miss you and I hope... even though it's nothing like you raised or thought I would be... I truly hope I make you proud. I love you with all my pieces.

Oh, how the cookie crumbles and gets set the f*ck on fire.🔥🍪🔥

While I initially thought things were smooth(ish) with my brother... I couldn't have been more wrong.

We talked through everything and Dev and I thought we were good to go... time to make changes and figure things out and move forward. I say this, because while my brother stayed at our house all last week, he acted like everything was fine. Mostly stayed in his room... but came and went as he pleased, joked around about things we were watching on the tv... he showed us a couple of houses he was looking into renting... things were a bit awkward (from the intensity of last weekend), but it felt like we were all on the right track.

Him and his BM were supposed to be at the house around one on Saturday to start packing his things. Dev and I were tootling around the house, business as usual and an hour before he was supposed to be there... I got a call from one of our aunts. Informing me that me, her, and my brother needed to have a sit down talk about some things because he "talked to a lawyer" about steps to stay in my house and he wanted to discuss it. I wasn't mad at my aunt... but I was livid at my f*cking brother. 

Why? Because not only has he shown more effort in the last week to STAY in MY house than he has in the last DECADE to move back in with HER... he also felt the need to pull our aunt in to try and "mommy" the situation because it didn't go his way last time. I should've seen it coming... I really should've... it's what he always did when we were growing up. He didn't get his way with me, so he would go to mom and the three of us would have a "talk" which basically broke down to give Katie a bunch of shit until she breaks and gives in.

I was trying to be as respectful to my aunt as possible (because again, not upset with her), but also get off the phone with her asap because I was feeling real disrespectful to my brother and didn't want her to catch any of that by accident (I word vomit when I'm angry... anxious... excited).

Because when I tell you I couldn't control my emotions and lost my ever-loving shit on my brother, it is not a joke. I called him damn near immediately when I got off the phone with my aunt and when his BM answered instead if him, I got real loud real quick.

We ended up screaming and yelling and arguing over the phone and then in person when he showed up. I'm not proud to say it... nor am I proud of myself for the way I acted... but I threw a straight up, 100% tantrum. There is simply no other way to describe it. While I had validity in the argument and made rational points and did well... it was also about 50% of a tantrum that was otherworldly.

And I was this level of angry because I was just so baffled and overwhelmed. I have done everything I could possibly think of and then some for my brother. For my entire life... not just when we were kids... my entire life. I have watched out for him, been there, and provided. Got him out of shit he shouldn't have been in and into shit he should've. Always made sure he had a place to go, food to eat, and had every basic essential I could. While he was off galivanting and shacking up with who knows how many girls, I was at the house taking care of our mother and providing the home he could always run back to. There has never been one time in my life to where my brother needed something and I wasn't there.

So for him to essentially tell me I've never done anything and I'm the worst sister on the planet for telling him to move... fine. I know better and he's being petty. Whatevs. But then, for him to basically lie and manipulate other people and the situation so he can essentially invoke his squatters rights in my home while he's living there, instead of just being an adult and figuring his life out... yes, I lost my shit.

He tried to backtrack and lie his way out... he tried to guilt and shame me into changing my mind... and then he listed all the reasons I'm the worst. Like bro, you're living here and having your shit sent here strictly based off my kindness and loving nature as a favor.

And quite frankly, I hate saying shit like that. I really do. I don't like doing something for someone, whether they ask or I offer, and then turning around and throwing that shit back up in their face. It's ridiculous and mean and nasty and I f*cking hate it. I don't help people or do for people so I can get something back. All I want in return is a little decency and respect. But no, I was forced to bring myself down to a level of petty that made me completely sick at my stomach. And if I didn't have reason enough, this right here would be it.

I'll say it loud and clear so everyone can hear and no mistakes are made... I do NOT want to be the person I was raised to be... I WANT to be the person I am and feel is my true self. And I can't do that when someone is constantly taking me back through levels of my life I have no desire to repeat. I just can't do it. I don't like it, it's not me, and the fact he took it there feels highly disrespectful to me.

Finally, we talked it through and came to some form of conclusion... I think. Basically, my mind hasn't changed, he's looking for a place to move into, and we're trying to move forward from this clusterf*ck that's been this process. 

I don't know if things are good now. I really don't. I hope they are. I would really like to continue moving on with our lives and hopefully have a loving and peaceful relationship moving forward. That's what I want and we can have that, but only time will tell. I can't make someone be someone they're not and I can't change myself for anyone else because I'm tired of not being me.

So, here we are... wish me luck.

Five years.

This day seems to sneak up on me even though I always know it's coming. Honestly, it never fails. I always know when January is looming and know when it's headed towards its end and yet, somehow and someway, it still feels... surprising.

I reflected on where I am in life this past September (Momma's birthday), and I'd say I'm still there. Somewhere between acceptance and moving forward, while still having my moments of crushing guilt, despair, and confusion.

Today feels like every other day and like none of the other days at all. A not so friendly reminder that things are different and life has been altered. A day designed to disrupt my brain chemistry and throw my feelings into turmoil.

But then, I think of all the happy and the good and I try to counteract all the bad juju with the good memories and feelings of love. All the hope and love and life lessons that we're gifted to me throughout my life.

Is it foolproof? No. But does it help? Sometimes.

Because at the end of the day, we're all just human and trying our best. And sometimes all we need is a little grace, even if that grace needs to come from ourselves.

Momma always said, only the good die young.

Today would have been Momma's 59th birthday. It'll be five years this coming January without her and life is so very different than I had ever imagined it would be. I miss her like crazy and think about her often.

I try not to dwell and get stuck in my own head these days, but find I often space out throughout my time. Days like today make me think about how different things are and it makes me relieve my entire life in my head.

Like one big extended flash scene that you would only see in a movie. Images and faces, moments and time. The good and bad... the really good and the terribly bad. 

I'd be lying if I said I'm not a different person than I was five years ago. In fact, when I look back at the person I was, it's kind of hard to imagine I was there. Sure, I'm still me at my core but I'm certainly nowhere near the same. 

I would love to have Momma back. If I had that ability, no doubt. Hell, if I could even talk to her from the other side (whatever that may be), I would. But, I've also come to the realization that I can't. Sure, I've always known that but knowing something and truly accepting it are very different. 

Different moments, different feelings, different places in time and in your own mind.

I miss her. So much sometimes that it's still hard to breathe. 

But, like I said, I'm not the same person I was five years ago. I have my days where everything piles up and gets overwhelming and I just don't know what to do... I feel broken... but once I admitted that I actually had all these feelings and accepted that they were all justified, I found some peace. Not necessarily what I would call "coming to terms with" but my wishful thinking and ever prevalent mindset tend to have a more calming effect these days.

I would say I have my husband to thank for that. While I was very much on the train of bottling up all my feelings until they overwhelmed and disabled me (I was willing to go down swinging), he made me feel like it was ok to actually feel my feelings. I didn't want to, but rather I wanted them to be or not, they were there. I had to deal or I had to surrender and quite frankly, surrendering wasn't an option to me.

I came to a point where I started just feeling ok going on about my life. 

For years, I would make changes or do something differently and then I would feel nothing but guilt. Like, all consuming, can't get out of bed, existential "what kind of person even am I" crisis levels of guilt. I would think to myself, how can I even make these decisions and move forward without her here? It felt wrong and like I was betraying her.

I'm not sure when it happened. I don't recall if it was an exact moment or a bunch of little moments all rolled into one but one day I made a decision and I just felt... I don't even really know what I felt... perhaps relief. Relief that for the first time in a long time, I was ok.

Sure, I'm not what some people would consider ok. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually. I have my bad days and I have those moments where I'm so overwhelmed I can't think straight. I have days where all I want to do is lay down and not get back up until it feels like I should. Days where my anxiety gets the best of me and my emotions are so overwhelming I can't help but let them spill out everywhere no matter the mess it may create. 

I have those days. More often than I'd like to admit, my mental health gets the best of me. I struggle and at times, I feel weak because I can't just "fix" it. I don't know what's wrong with me... sometimes it will be the littlest things that send me over the edge. But, they show up and there I am rocking on the precipice running through every single decision I've ever made in my head.

But then there are the other days. The days where I feel strong and capable. The days that I love just being me and the person that I am. The days that I cuddle with my husband and play with our pups and live my life with the mindset that I only get one and I decide what kind of life it's going to be.

I was talking to Dev the other night, and at the end of the conversation I realized that I had not only been living my entire life with my mother on a pedestal but I had a deep desire for her to be proud of me. Not just proud but I wanted to just be enough for her. I saw so many people throughout my life treat my mother shitty and just be horrible to her when she didn't deserve it. I'm not saying she was perfect but she certainly was better than what people bothered to show her.

I took care of her and had a deep need to be everything that she needed. I wanted to make up for the fact she had a less than stable childhood. I wanted to make her see that it didn't matter she had two divorces and both husbands were terrible people in general. I wanted to be enough to where she didn't worry about the drinking and the drugs that she had done in the past. I wanted to be able to make her happy and content and live the best life she possibly could while it was in my capabilities.

And I would do it all again, without hesitation. I have no regrets when it comes to taking care of Momma. People over the years have mentioned the things I gave up, the late start with others. And I would agree. I most certainly didn't live a normal adult life. My world quite literally revolved around her and anything her little heart desired. Was it healthy? Probably not. In fact, it was probably incredibly unhealthy and a therapist would most definitely have a few things to say about it. But, whether right or wrong, I would do it again.

Because she was her and I love her beyond all reasonable explanation. She was my truest friend, greatest champion, and a devoted mother. She had her flaws like everyone else but no matter the flaw, I loved her. She loved me through mine and I loved her through hers and that was that.

But after I lost her, I had to figure out what to do. Where to go. How to move forward. 

It wasn't easy. Hell, it still isn't easy. I don't know if life is ever really easy for anyone. We all have our own problems and stories and whose to say one is a greater tragedy than another?

My greatest hurdle was without a doubt the guilt. The guilt of moving forward in my own way without the nagging feeling of "am I a terrible person for trying to be happy?" The guilt of needing to figure out who I am as a person on my own, meaning I had to go back and examine and think through and make decisions based on my entire life starting with my childhood. The guilt of realizing that I'm not ok with everything that has happened to me and I'm not ok with some of the thoughts that have been put in my head throughout my entire life.

The guilt of coming to the realization I had some major parts of myself that I had always been afraid of changing but felt the need to change. The guilt from realizing that it was fear of not being good enough that made me such a people pleaser and prohibited me from making decisions in my life that I truly wanted to make. And then, the guilt of realizing it seemed like I was painting my mother in a negative light when that was the furthest thing from what I wanted to do.

I lived with this guilt and if I'm being completely honest, it ate at me. Every single day for a very long time. No matter the circumstance or thought, all I felt was guilt. So much guilt that it was crippling and would bring me to my knees. I mean, how dare I have this amazing mother and then have the audacity to questions anything, right?

And then one day I realized it was ok.

It was ok to be the person I wanted to be. And it was ok to think what I thought, have my own opinions. It was ok to make changes in my life to live the life that was going to make me happy and it was ok that I'm not ok with everything. I came to the conclusion... and while this may be whimsical thinking on my part... that just because I have objections and questions to my past doesn't mean that I love her any less. I don't have to agree with everything she said or did, I don't have to live my life according to her rules or principles, I don't have to be who I thought she wanted me to be. I could just be me and that was ok. I could make the changes, and have the doubts, and propose the questions, and do the work and it wasn't for anybody but me. I didn't have to live in this bubble that I had created out of fear of not being good enough. And that was ok. There was no reason to feel guilty about it... it was just... ok.

I often ask myself if Momma would be proud of me. Because I think a little part of me will always want her to be proud of me. And honestly, the answer is always vague. Do I think she would like the decisions I've made, the ways I've changed? The clothes I wear, the tattoos I have, the stance I take with other people? The questions I ask or the opinions I'm now free and easy with? And the answer to that is simply no. I don't for one second kid myself into thinking Momma would like this from her daughter. She was amazing but she was also stubborn and liked things her way. You know that old saying "my way or the highway"? Yeah, Elizabeth Ann coined that phrase, I'm sure of it. So no, I think she would have a whole lot of opinions on the way her daughter goes about her life.

But also, as a person? Someone she just looked at and thought to herself, that's a good one? I could laugh and hang out with and love and be around that person? I think she would look past all of it and see me as a person and like me. The things I've overcome, the way I've managed and dealt, the love I have for the life I live, and the way I choose to treat people. She may not have wanted it from her daughter but as a person? Yeah, I think she would be really proud of me. 

And one day, I realized that was enough for me. I didn't have to be perfect and live in any certain image. Because deep down I try to be a good person. I make mistakes and I have flaws and I am so far off the perfect spectrum I can't even see it in my rearview. And all of that was ok because I not only found my way through but I continue to try and keep finding my way through.

I thought about it and I had never really stopped to ask myself if I was happy. Sure, I felt happiness throughout my life but I had never really stopped to consider if I was happy to my core. I had apparently been in survival mode for so long that basic emotions seemed like a foreign concept to me. And once I decided that the only way I was going to be able to move forward was to try and find my happy the rest kind of just fell into place.

Am I all cured and mentally stable? Nope. But am I happy and trying my best? Yes. And yeah, that's enough.

With all that being said, I feel like I should say I do think Momma is with me on the regular. Whether she approves or not, she's there. Like she always was. Today on my way home for lunch, while driving through an intersection, a woman ran a red light and almost hit me. At the last minute the car in front of me decided to hit their brakes and turn left and therefore, took the hit to their front instead of what would have been my drivers side door. And I can't help but to think, if that wasn't Momma, it sure as hell is a coincidence that I got that "lucky" on her birthday.

Happy Birthday, Momma. I love you so much it hurts and I miss you every single day. I sure do hope my Tayder is keeping you in good company and you're as happy and feel as amazing as you possibly can. Because you deserve it. Any and everything I could never give, you deserve. That and so much more. Don't worry about me, I'm tough as nails and we both know you didn't raise no quitter (and if you did, it was definitely my brother). Thanks for keeping an eye out for me and I'll continue to try and be happy. Because I know no matter what, you always wanted that for me. I love you, Momma.

The last nineteen years of my life replayed in a flash.

No, I am not ok.

On July 26, 2023 I had to do one of the very hardest things that I've ever done in my entire life. 

I had to say goodbye to my Tayder pup.

I can't even begin to explain what I'm feeling right now. I feel empty but also like I need to throw up everything that's not even in my body. I feel numb but my chest aches with a burning persistence. I can't stop bursting into random tears and I feel weak.

Mentally, physically, emotionally, psychologically.

Some people might call it drained, but I don't feel drained, I feel completely and utterly weak. 

Tayder was my true North. No matter what horrible thing happened in my life or what ridiculous circumstance tried to break me, Tayder was always steadfast in his love and loyalty. I never had to question if he loved me and I never had to worry about someone coming along and him taking to them more. I always knew where we stood, because we always stood together.

He's been there since I was fifteen years old. We were both babies but he put all his love, trust and complete blind faith into me. And I know to most people they would think, "oh, you've had a dog since you were a teen, that's cool." But, he wasn't a dog. And I didn't just get a dog when I was a teen.

I received the greatest blessing I had ever received and I truly feel he is my baby. Maybe I didn't birth him, but we've been together for so long and I love him so deeply, that it honestly feels like I lost my child. And I don't care if that sounds dumb to other people or if they never understand, because even I can't explain it.

Him not being here with me just feels completely and utterly wrong.

And I knew our time together wasn't going to be forever. I was extremely lucky, my Tayder got to live until he was over twenty-two years old and lord knows everyone other than me counted him out long ago. But, no matter how much I knew and how much I would try to prepare myself, there was just no way.

Even I couldn't have foreseen how this was going to feel. I knew it was going to hurt, there was no way it couldn't, but I never in my whole life would have been able to know it would hurt this bad. 

Nothing other than losing momma has ever hurt this bad in my entire life. Nothing.

When I was eleven years old, I was with my brother and some of our friends playing in the woods. One thing lead to another and I ended up entangled in some barb-wire. Shit cut me up and was embedded so far into my thighs that a friend had to hold me up while two others had to pull the wire out. He carried me home and I was laid up for weeks in pain, constantly trying to get my legs to stop bleeding everywhere.

And still, that didn't hurt this bad. If it would bring my Tayder back, I would wrap myself in barb-wire from head to toe, light myself on fire and go cliff diving.

Unfortunately, no matter how much I want or wish, that's one thing I can't have back. It's so surreal for me to know I will never hold or cuddle Tayder again because even though I know it's completely real, it still doesn't feel like it is.

I still look for him every single time I walk into our house. I still watch for him every time I come around a corner or step down off our bed. I still listen for the little click-clack of his toes for when he wandered to the ends of the house and back.

Empty. Numb. Void. I wouldn't know what the word that I'm feeling is. I'm lost but know exactly where I am. I'm devastated and somehow have an endless supply of tears. Quite literally the only thing I want to make me feel better is... well... Tayder.

And I know I'll be ok... I think.

And I know what happened couldn't have been prevented... I think.

And I know I did the right thing... I think.

Somehow, someway, I can't help but to feel I have betrayed him. I don't think he would see it that way and I don't think anybody else does... hell, I wouldn't think that about anybody else in the exact same situation. 

But... it wasn't someone else. It was me and Tate. And to say the decision I had to make will haunt me for a long time... perhaps forever... would be an understatement. Because I know it will, it already does. And I would do it again for him in a heartbeat, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Maybe this is the price I have to pay for having him as long as I did and for loving him as much as I do. 

He gave me so many wonderful and blessed and special and amazing years and I never felt I could ever repay him for everything he gave to me. And maybe that's why it hurts so bad. Maybe this is the price at the end of the road. You know, when all is said and done and the final say is said.

But, you know what? If this is the price that has to be paid, then I guess I'll pay the toll. Because I wouldn't trade all the years and memories and moments that I have with my Tayder for anything. 

I'll cry and I'll grieve and I'll keep going because I know the little shit was training me for it. Always making me stronger and more caring and filling me so full of love.

I love you, Tayder. 

I've loved you since the first minute I looked up into that crate and you gave me a kiss on the nose. I was a sucker for you then and I love you more than I ever thought I could love another living being. You're my rock, my heart, and forever ingrained into my soul. I'll always have a piece of you with me and I know you're never too far when I need you. Thank you for being there for me at my worst times and pulling me through the deep end. I honestly don't know where I would be or what kind of person I would be without you.

You taught me patience, understanding and the true meaning of unconditional love. You're my baby and will forever be my little trooper.

I love you. So very much. And I'm gonna miss you so damn much more than I already do. But, I got this. You've done all you could do and now it's up to me to keep going through. I'll figure it out because if you've taught me anything over all the years we've been together, it's that I'm stronger than what even I think.

And I feel that because of you, Tayder. I love you.

People literally tried to make me throw in the towel on the first day.

Y'all, people didn't even wait until we were a little bit into 2023 before they decided to make me lose all faith in humanity. Like seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people? 

On Sunday, D and I decided to spend the day on his bike. We took a ride out to my aunts house in the morning and by the time we got home, Travis and Mace showed up so we could all ride up to my brothers and hang out together.

We all had a fun day and couldn't wait to get home and spend the last "free" evening before we all had to prepare ourselves to reenter the world of our regular jobs and everyday life. 

We decided to use the GPS on our way, because traffic has been a nightmare with all the construction and holidays, and it took us a route we had never been before. Sure, we've driven that way in our vehicles, but never on the bike. 

About twenty minutes from home, we were driving under a bridge coming up and we had to make a left. There was a man on the left side of the road and when we came up on him it looked like he was waiting for traffic to pass through so he could cross the street. D got into the opposite lane to ensure we wouldn't be close to him and all of the sudden he charged at us full force and tackled us.

I'm not even shitting you, he tackled us while we were driving down the road and sent us into the guardrail/almost the concrete barrier. If that wasn't enough, he proceeded to loop his arm around me and try to yank me off the back. Oh... and he had a knife. You know, in case this wasn't escalating enough to fucking begin with.

Luckily, my fight or flight instinct kicked in and my first reaction was to tighten my legs around Dev as tight as I could and just start punching the dude in the head. I don't know how D managed to keep that bike up and get us away from the man, but he did.

He didn't stop though. He chased after us and then started throwing beer bottles and pieces of concrete cinderblocks at us, Travis, and another dude that just so happened to be passing by on a bike. 

I called the police and of course Dev and Travis made sure that Mace and I were far enough away to be safe and then kept an eye out on our surroundings and where the dude took off to make sure he didn't get away. Once the police showed up I had to tell them what happened (a very short description of events as they were in pursuit immediately) and they caught and arrested the man.

I would be lying if I said this turn of events didn't freak me out a little bit. I feel like I'm usually a pretty strong person and while I have fears, I'm usually pretty good about keeping myself together. However, it's not everyday you get sucker-punched into a motorcycle accident and possibly abducted and/or assaulted. At least, I don't and if this is an everyday occurrence to y'all, please send tips.

I'm jumpy now and more on edge than I'd like to admit. My paranoia has gone up about four notches and honestly... I don't want this to affect me, but I think it is. The whole way home afterwards I couldn't get my legs to stop shaking and when D asked if I was cold I thought it through and said no. I wasn't cold, but I also couldn't stop shaking and I'm smart enough to know that's adrenaline... and possibly shock.

We're all ok. Dev hurt his leg when we went into the railing and we're both extremally sore, but considering the turn of events and how it could've went down, I'd say we're grateful to only be sore. Luckily, Travis, Mace, and the other guy weren't hurt at all. 

And while I am thankful that we're all ok and the man was arrested (thank you, nice policemen that showed up and helped even though I know I was on edge and freaking out some), I honestly just want to know what the fuck is wrong with people.

I mean, what possesses someone to tackle a person they've never met and try to assault them with a weapon for absolutely no reason at all? And I know this happens all the time and we should all be more prepared, because people just keep proving that they're the worst, but... COME ON, DUDE.

Is this really where we're at?

The only people in my family that know are my brother and Dani. The only people in D's family that know are Travis (and Mace) and his dad. We didn't want to tell alot of people, because then all they'll do is worry and freak out and honestly, I feel like my mental health is hanging on by a loose thread, so maybe let's not deal with all that right now.

Dani said she probably wouldn't ever get back on a bike again. I can't say I blame her and I would be lying if I said that thought hadn't crossed my mind at first. But you know what? I enjoy riding with my husband and spending that time together and I'll be damned if I let some asshole with an anger issue and a small dick complex ruin that for us. People aren't going to stop being horrible and doing what they do, so we all have to find a way to keep living our lives all the same.

It's shitty, but it's accurate.

Instead, I have to say I'm thankful for my husband for making me feel safe when that was the last thing I thought I would feel again. For protecting me and loving me. I'm thankful for our cousins that were with us that stood by our side and had our backs. I'm thankful for the stranger who stopped to help even though it put himself in danger. And I'm thankful for emergency personnel (from the amazing dispatcher on the phone to the patrolmen that showed up). This was an incredibly shitty moment and feeling, but we're ok. We're together and safe.

And at the end of the day, that's all that really matters.

A little catchup on life in general and the daily struggles of mental health.

Life has been... I would like to say good, because it really does feel that way, but I also don't want to jinx myself or anyone around me either. I'm not sure what it is, but life has had a kind of calm around it lately. Things are very go with the flow and I find myself reflecting on memories or thoughts in a peaceful kind of way.

Don't get me wrong, there's every day normal stress... daily personal problems, work, health, financial. But, life in general has felt a bit serene. I find myself on edge less and it takes more than usual to make me panic.

Perhaps it has something to do with my surroundings... D and I finally managed to get our house and yard cleaned up. Don't get me wrong, more could definitely be done, but for the most part it's clean and doesn't look like a swarm of crackheads came through and had a field day. It actually looks like normal people live there... well, mostly normal people.

I don't think anyone would accuse us of being too normal. Or, normal at all really now that I think about it.

Also, I find "normal" to leave a bad taste in my mouth. I'm not sure who decided what was appropriate and what wasn't, but the fact that we live our lives how we see fit and let ourselves be happy is good enough for me. I don't really care if other people don't find my way of life to be acceptable.

But yes, our house being clean was like a giant weight lifted off my shoulders. It may sound insane, but I had so much anxiety that constantly ate at me when our house was a mess. 

And yet, I couldn't find any motivation to do anything about it. It was a real Catch-22 situation. I didn't like it a mess, but couldn't find the effort to do anything about it. Ironic, huh? It literally took me four hours to scrub our shower down.

FOUR. And don't get me wrong, it probably didn't need that thorough of a cleaning (yes, it did) and I could've probably stopped long before I did (no, it definitely needed all of the attention it got and probably then some), but it looks so much better now... and I feel so much damn better about it. 

I've talked about not cleaning or maintaining a house like Momma used to... I'm just not that person. I've thought about it, accepted it, and moved on. However, there are some things that are forever ingrained in my brain and while I may not keep house like her, I do still like to keep house. Or yet, I like having a kept house. It doesn't have to be perfect or immaculate, but it does have to be comfortable 

And I do like cleaning house... mostly. I find it comforting to toodle around mopping or cleaning... making sure laundry is caught up. Once everything is cleaned, the windows are open, and the candles/incense are lit, I'm at my most calm. Remember when I said I sometimes wake up early in the morning and stand in my kitchen with nothing but silence and coffee and contemplate the day ahead or my life in general? Well, it's even more peaceful surrounded by cleanliness and comfort items.

D did the entire back yard by himself and I am entirely impressed. He hacked down all the crazy tomato plants and vines that had taken over and put everything back in its rightful place. Even our firepit is standing at the ready to take out all the hang around stuff that shouldn't be there. He blew off the sidewalk and the pups are so damn thrilled. Spart and Xur love to run around and play in the openness and even little Tayderbug appreciates not having to scour the jungle looking for a place to pee.

We've been meaning to do this for quite some time, but always lacked the motivation to do so. I always joked with D that something like his mom coming to visit would have to happen before it actually got done. I mean, something would have to kick us in our asses to get the ball rolling, right? Well, something did apparently.

D's cousin, Travis, is staying with us for a bit. I love the guy like he's a little cousin or brother so when D said he needed a place to crash and asked if he could stay with us, I didn't mind at all. In the span of one day he... lost his job, house, fiancé and dog. Honestly, I'm just glad the guy has a newer truck, because I had a feeling it was going to be turning real 90s country love ballad soon. He started staying with us last Thursday (? I think it was Thursday) and it's been going real good. We don't mind having the company and we've seemed to find a somewhat routine with each other for now. D and I have a very calm and "hippie-esque" vibe about our lives and that's how we live it... and he seems to be ok with that and fit into it nicely. We all go about our own business, but also co-exist and hang out.

With that said, that's the motivation we needed. Trav is currently crashing in our spare room, so we rearranged to fit his stuff, but that also kickstarted our cleaning weekend. And honestly, I'm glad it did, because I love our house even more now. 

Other than that, we've just been relaxing and trying not to get too stressed about anything. D's been taking me for rides on his bike (and got me all decked out in gear-helmet, gloves, jacket) and it's something that we both have fun doing together. Between that and the random fishing trips we've been taking down at the river, life has just been... nice.

Cleaning, cooking, reading, relaxing... I know it all sounds ridiculous and you're wondering how any of that could possibly make me happy, but it does. Because I feel like me and I feel happy and I feel peaceful. I have an amazing, loving, caring, compassionate, adoring husband and three of the most adorable and loving pups that were ever put on this planet.

Sure, I have everyday stress and worries, we all do. I struggle with my mental health on a daily basis and there are times I feel so overwhelmed I don't know which way is up. I have moments or thoughts that are sad or unsettling, but I also have wonderful moments full of laughter and light. 

Things aren't perfect, they rarely ever are, but if this is the feeling I have for the rest of my life, I'll take it. Because while it may not be someone else's perfect, it feels pretty damn great to me.

Ich liebe dich Papi. Bis wir uns wieder treffen. Ich kümmere mich um sie. Das verspreche ich.

"I love you, Papi. Until we meet again. I'll take care of them. I promise."

This morning we received a call that we knew was coming, but had been dreading. My MIL called to let us know that my FIL had passed away at one o'clock this morning. 

He was a fantastic man that made me smile whenever he was around or would talk to me. I seriously could not have asked for a more loving and caring person to be my surrogate father and to say he took me in and loved me as his own would have been an understatement.

Because that's just the kind of man he was. He took you in and once he had you in one of those infamous bearhugs, you were a goner. A giant man whose heart was as broad as his shoulders that he felt the need to carry the weight of the world on. It didn't matter what was happening or if something negative was said, he could somehow turn it around and make you feel ok. More than ok... loved.

There are no words to describe what we're all feeling right now. Devastation. Loss. Grief. None of those seem to even touch what this is. Bafflement would be the one I would think would encompass us all the best. Mostly because none of us can quite believe that he's gone. 

Sometimes when something devastating like this happens, it almost feels selfish, because you have all these thoughts you can't seem to stop... and you're wondering if that makes you a bad person or if everyone thinks these things? Things like... How can he not be here to congratulate D and I on our second anniversary? How can he miss Christmas? Whose going to teach me random German phrases and how to cook authentic dishes from his home? Whose going to make sure my MIL is getting enough rest and tell her to calm down and take a load off? Whose going to let the kids climb all over him and laugh until he almost pees his pants? 

It's not that I think it's truly important to know all these things, it's just that I honestly don't know what to do... or think... or say.

How do I look my MIL in the eye and tell her I'm so sorry about her loss when I have my amazing husband standing next to me? How do I comfort not only her, but my husband and SIL and BIL? He was the most dad stepdad that I have ever seen in my life. Didn't matter that all of my MIL's kids were older when they got together. Didn't matter that he had never had kids in his life. Once he realized he loved her, he immediately loved her children as his own as well. And they all love him. You would honestly never know they're a blended family unless someone told you.

And now, it all feels kind of... empty. No more picking him up at the airport on work trips. No more getting random phone calls to help out with trying to surprise his wife with a special present. No more watching him cook while he tells me stories about Germany. It's just all... gone. Like that, in the blink of an eye.

My father-in-law loved not only his wife, sons, daughter, and grandchildren, but also genuinely loved me as a daughter. And quite frankly, that is a gift and feeling that can never be replaced. He can never be replaced.

I remember the first time I met him. He had flown to Indy for a work convention and D and I picked him up in the middle of the night so we could all hang out. It was not only the first time I was meeting him, but also the first time he would see our house, as he hadn't seen D since he moved to Indy. I was sitting there and a giant of a man walked over to the car. I would be lying if I said just from the sheer size of the man and his baritone voice... that I wasn't a bit intimidated. But then, he got in the car and smiled at me and I just knew it was all going to be good. He had that way... a way to make you feel at ease.

From that moment on he was family to me and I was family to him. He even made sure to wrangle as many people as he possibly could to get them here for our wedding. He did whatever he could for his family and nothing made him happier than seeing the people he truly adored be happy and taken care of. 

He was always the first one to ask me how I was doing and how work was going. He was quite essentially the father figure I never had. And while it should feel weird to say that, it feels more strange to not acknowledge it. Because it's the truth.

I can't imagine what it's going to be like moving forward without him at our side. Like with all things in life, and how he would want us to, we'll find a way to keep going, but it doesn't make the situation any less devastating and unfair. Of course, with moments like this it can all seem unfair. Because it is.

I will never understand why a good kind man had to go through something like this, and there are a million bad people out there living their lives like nothing affects them. I know you shouldn't question it, because you'll never truly find the answers you're searching for, but it doesn't make the feeling of defeat stop. Because when you lose someone you love that's exactly how you feel... defeated.

Then again, I've learned over the last three years that it doesn't really matter how much you question something, because that something is what you'll be searching for forever and never find. Therefore, while we all have a million questions, with the most prominent being "why?!" I choose to think of all the good things. It doesn't make it better, but if you're going to be thinking about it either way, you may as well remember the good instead of the terrible.

So, that's what we'll do. We'll remember and love and cherish and try. Because that's what he would've wanted. And I know that, because he made his feelings very clear.

I love you, Dennis. You're the best father-in-law a girl ever could've asked for and you will be missed more than I can ever say. You are so damn loved and I'm going to miss seeing that bright as all holy hell smile. You will never truly be gone, because your spirit and love will live on through all of us. We'll miss you and think of you always, and I truly hope you have found some form of peace. Whatever that may be. 

In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.

Let's go ahead and put it out there so people know and move on with their lives. *this is my opinion and you are more than welcome to walk away*

I have been asked more about my uterus in the last week and a half than I have my entire life. 

In fact, people are increasingly concerned about the decisions we (people that possess a uterus) make, guns, and somewhere in the back folks keep hollering about Jesus.

The only thing I have to say to that last one is if y'all don't think Jesus is rolling his eyes right about now, you're sorely mistaken. But, that's an argument that I have no desire to partake in. Also, I'm not exactly yearning to have a conversation about guns either. In fact, its ridiculous that I even have to say anything about any of this, because people can't quit acting a fool and mind their own fucking business.

Seriously, if people could just mind their own business, stop shooting/stabbing/raping/maiming/harming each other, and just get on a mutual level, life would be so much simpler.

Alas, that's not ever going to happen. Because who would want to live a peaceful life and be happy while doing it? People are too busy plotting how to hurt someone or screw them over and the rest of us have to deal with the repercussions. Assholes.

Remember a couple years ago when the pandemic first hit and we were all hunkered down in our houses, trying random TikTok hacks, binge-watching Netflix, experimenting with exercise (or in my case, drinking), not wearing pants, and honestly wanting everyone around us to be healthy, but also keep their distance? Can we please go back to that? 

Not the pandemic part, but the quarantine and generally trying not to be a terrible person part? Let's do that.

I say all that so I can respond to the constant questions that are on loop everywhere in our country (and I'm assuming with some instances, the world). Let's just jump right on in.

Do I believe in abortion? Medically, yes. Do I think it should be used as the first form of birth control? No. Do I think there are circumstances that call for abortion? Yes. Do I think every single person has the right to make a decision about their own body no matter their age, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or religious beliefs? Absolutely. Do I think it's ok for someone, whether it be politician or passerby to shame someone or make a decision for that person that has absolutely nothing to do with their life? Absolutely not. And also, fuck you.

I don't care where you stand with your religious beliefs. Honestly, I couldn't give less of a shit. I was raised smack dab in the middle of the Bible belt. I know scripture and I've been around "the gospel" my entire life. They drill that into you and if you don't believe everything exactly how they think you should, you are shamed for it. There is no understanding or discussion, it is simply you are shamed. Period. Every mistake you have ever made, every unfiltered thought you said out loud, all the most devastating moments and events in your life will be thrown in your face and there will be no remorse from them, because you don't fit into their belief system. As an adult, I would not say I'm religious at all. Spiritual? Yes. Religious? No. 

Basically, what I'm saying is, you can stand there and yell and scream at me until you are blue in the face about how I'm a sinner and going to hell, because I'm "pro-choice." Well, guess what? I wouldn't say I'm "pro-choice" or "pro-life." I would however say I am pro mind your own fucking business and quit thinking your beliefs are the only thing acceptable in the universe.

How about you keep your church out of my fucking vagina and I'll keep my vagina out of your church? Is that a deal that can be made? If so, sign me and about fourteen million other people the fuck up.

Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole. Honestly, it just comes natural. But, I'm having a real hard time with people right now.

I mean, the government decided to regulate my uterus and nicotine consumption within two days of each other and honestly, I feel like I might be treading in dangerous waters. Frankly, I picked the wrong year to stop drinking and taking crazy pills. And yes, I can say crazy pills, because I am not shaming anyone with mental health issues. I call them crazy pills, strictly for myself, because I felt as though they kept me from going crazy for awhile. So before you get pissed off about that, let me go ahead and stop you right there and say once again, you don't like it? I don't fucking care.

On the other side of Roe v. Wade being overturned, I've heard many people discussing gay marriage and how the right to that may be taken or re-evaluated as well. Where do I stand on that?

Well, first off, can we stop calling it gay marriage and call it what it is? 

Marriage. Just marriage. That's legitimately all it is. Just two people married to each other, making decisions, sharing bills, caring for each other, and never knowing where to go out to eat for the rest of their lives. 

I'm going to my little cousins wedding in a few weeks. When she sent me the invitation did she say, "Katiedid, would you like to come to my gay wedding?" Hell no. She simply asked, "Katiedid, would you like to come to my wedding?" That's all she needed to say, because its not a "gay wedding" it is just a fucking wedding. A wedding that she, her fiancé, and every single other person should have the fucking right to have if they so please.

I have a hard time with people having such a problem with this. Like, why in the actual fuck do you even care? I certainly wouldn't invite your opinion into my marriage and I'm fairly certain you're not taking your marital decisions to the polls to ask everyone else what they think. So again, why in the actual fuck do you even care? 

And before you answer that with the same thing I've heard a million times, remember, I don't give any shits where your religious beliefs lie. Again, I'll say it for the people in the back, YOUR RELIGIOUS BELIEFS SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO AFFECT THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU WITHIN THEIR OWN LIVES. 

Furthermore, if you feel so strongly about other peoples relationships or marriages (you know, the ones that quite literally have nothing to do with your life), where are you to help out all the people in abusive situations? Oh wait, let me guess! That's not your business. Why isn't it your business? Because it's not your relationship or marriage? Guess what? No relationship or marriage you're not an active participant in is your business.

You'll turn a blind eye to Steve beating the absolute dogshit out of Brenda, but Lord forbid Brad ask fucking Rick to Prom. I will never understand some people.

You believe what you believe, I'll believe what I believe, and we can still coexist without shoving our opinions down each others throats. We could probably even be friends. Because I actually have friends and we have different opinions about many things. And you know what? We're still friends even though we think about certain things differently. I don't try to get them to believe what I believe, they don't try to get me to believe what they believe. We actually just have adult conversations and continue on with our own lives. Fucking wild, right?

However, I cannot, and absolutely would not want, to be friends with someone who doesn't think every single person deserves their own basic fundamental rights. We can disagree on a whole lot of things and continue throughout our lives, but this is a hard limit for me. You think you have the right to tell someone else how to live their life, because your opinion and structured belief system is the only thing that matters? Seriously? 

Must be exhausting being so fucking entitled all the time.

Speaking of entitled.... guns. Look, I don't even want to get into this shit, because honestly, why would I want to? However, it seems ever prevalent in today's world, so I might as well just say what I'm gonna say since everyone seems to associate gun control with my uterus. 

2022 is fucking wild, dude.

Look, I am very much not anti-gun. I own guns and have been around and used guns my entire life. I was taught from a young age to handle and respect every single weapon as if it's loaded and the safety is off at all times. I've used them to hunt and I am a firm believer in the right to have weapons to protect your home, your family, and yourself. Not only that, but I understand gun collection/use as a hobby. And my stance on "the right to bare arms" holds firm.

However, if you think for one second that I'm perfectly fine with the amount of mass shootings that have occurred and continue to occur, you are sadly fucking mistaken. It is absolutely appalling to me that people have to live in constant fear every time they step in public. It makes me physically ill that everyday I watch people send their children to school and they have to consistently worry that it may be the last time that they see said child.

I was a kid when Columbine happened. I remember the absolute overwhelming fear and anxiety that I felt watching that unfold and then going back into school after it happened. I was absolutely petrified before my nine year old brain could really process exactly what I was so petrified of or even what I was feeling. I had no idea what those feelings were or how to deal with them. And now, that feeling is something that kids don't just have to deal with, but is such a common occurrence, have to actually prepare themselves for.

How fucking sad is that? No, not sad. Devastating. 

I've always been open about not wanting to have children. And while my stance on marriage has significantly changed, my decision on children has not. D and I are simply happy with it being just us and our pups. Don't get me wrong, we love children. We have many nieces, nephews, cousins, and friends with children. We just don't want any of our own.

The morning of Uvalde, TX, I quite literally cried in public. I couldn't fathom how something like this had happened yet again. Honestly, I was relieved to not be a parent. I've never wanted to be a parent, but it was the first time in my life that I was actually thankful I wasn't. Maybe that makes me sound cruel or something, but I honestly don't know how people do it. And I certainly didn't envy my brother, sister in laws, or brother in laws for having to wait for their children to get home that day and send them into school the next.

Do I think something more can be done about gun control and the violent situations arising? Yes. Do I think that taking peoples guns and outlawing a bunch of things is going to stop the problem? Absolutely not. Do I think we can somehow find a solution that works for everyone with some understanding and a little follow through? Yes. Just because something is going to be hard, or no one knows where to start, doesn't mean we shouldn't start somewhere. Something needs to be done. What? I don't have all the answers, I really don't. Maybe this is coming from a place of naivete, but I feel like there is a solution out there. We simply haven't found it yet. Doesn't mean we stop trying. 

The majority of responsible gun owners feel the exact same way I do. Just because you are ok with, like, or appreciate a weapon, does not automatically make you a criminal with some kind of agenda. Nor does it make you strange for having the interest.

With that being said.... Do I want to take anyone's guns? No. As I said, I own guns and have absolutely no problem with someone having them if they are responsible adults that have respect for the weapons around them. But, do I still want a solution to the horrible events happening in our country and justice for the victims? Abso-fucking-lutely. 

And before you say some stupid shit like, "making it harder for people to buy guns legally won't stop people, they'll just buy them on the street!" let me say, I am fully aware of that. I didn't say "punishing" innocent people was going to stop criminals. In fact, I didn't say I had any solutions or answers whatsoever. I simply stated the fact that this current situation needs a resolution of some kind. 

Before I move on from this topic, I feel it needs to be said, if you have somehow sought out to micro-manage my words and came to the conclusion of "she says she's sad about children losing their lives, but she's pro-abortion so what about those babies?" I would just like to say, you're a fucking bag of dicks and the exact problem with society. I don't have to explain my feelings or thought process to you. Just know, your opinion on my opinion means less to me than what your religious stance does. And trust me when I say, that's a whole lot of not giving even half a shit being accomplished.

Did I miss anything? I feel like I've covered all the topics that people are discussing right now.

I'll leave off with social media.

The only reason I felt the need to write anything on this is simply because I'm tired. I'm tired of people constantly asking and trying to justify themselves for thinking and doing horrible shit to other people. I'm tired of accepting people into my life that are more fitting to be a Disney villain. I'm tired of "letting shit roll off my shoulders" because it's uncomfortable or confrontational. It's simple really. I don't accept that kind of behavior from people in my everyday life and I'm not about to accept it on any form of social media. I simply delete and block. Childish? Maybe, but I honestly don't care. 

While watching this shit show implode social media you would not believe some of the nastiness coming from people. I dealt with this for about.... oh, I don't know.... fifteen minutes and came to the realization I don't care about any of those people enough to actually stay "friends" with them.

Seriously. I'm a thirty-two year old woman. Why the fuck would I care what my fourth grade teachers opinion of the way I "turned out" would be? I thought about it and realized I didn't. I didn't care at all. There were no fucks to be given. So.... delete-block. The guy who didn't even speak to me until we were well into our twenties even though we quite literally have known each other almost thirty years? Delete-block. The girl I met through an old friend of mine that was just kind of hanging out on my friends list even though we don't like each other? Delete-block. 

Social media has tricked us into thinking that we need the approval of other people and I simply don't agree. I have cut people out of my physical everyday life that have made me feel a certain way and my feelings towards social media are now no more different. I can't just continually cut people out of my life? Snip.... snip.... snippity snip, motherfuckers.

And you know what? That's fine. People are more than welcome to accept or remove me from their life as well. 

I don't crave approval. Not to mention, that's my entire point for this post.

What I'm saying is, this is my stance on these topics. I'm not asking for your opinion. I'm not demanding you accept mine. That's why this is my opinion. It's for me, myself, and I. Not only am I not asking your approval, but I'm outright telling you I don't care about it. Not that I don't need it, or I think I'm too good for it, or my mind can't possibly ever change about anything, I just honestly don't give a shit.

I am human. I am flawed and I make mistakes. I'm not the same person I've always been and my opinions at times contradict themselves. I'm not saying I'm a great person or that there are things about me that aren't unusual. I'm not even saying I'm right and you're wrong. 

I am simply saying, this is my opinion on it. We don't have to talk about it and the chances of me talking about it again are slim to none. Hence, the writing it out once and for all and letting sleeping dogs lie.

I am not going to fight or argue with you. I am not going to shame or get into some kind of grand debate with you. But, I am also not going to stand idly by and allow you to treat me or the people I care about like shit. Does it have to be confrontational? Am I threatening to fight you over it? No. I'm calmly telling you that's fine, we're adults, we can quite literally go our separate ways and never have to speak to each other again. Isn't that grand?

You spend your time with people you want to be around and make you feel good about yourself and I'll spend my time with the people I love and make me feel comfortable being the person that I truly am.

Because snip.... snip.... snippity snip, motherfuckers.

It will always be a struggle, but we try to help my mental health with activities together and a stress free home life.

Ever since we went on vacation and came back, D and I have had an avid "chill" about our lives. We do everything that we're supposed to do (ie: work, pay bills, be semi-productive members of society), but I would be lying if I said we weren't in a zen state. And it would also be a lie to say that we hate it. Because we don't. 

Sure, there are things that bother us. Things that make my anxiety go through the roof and things that make his temper flare, but for the most part, we've accepted that we're happier just being together and whoosah about life. 

Honestly, I don't know if it's marriage or my thirties, but whichever it is, I am here for it.

I go to the dentist tomorrow to look into having some pretty extensive dental work done and I've been a bit (I feel justifiably!) nervous about the whole ordeal. D has assured me that it's all going to be fine, because I'm tough and there's nothing we can't handle together (yeah, we treat all things in our lives to be equally important!). I'm going to a new dentist (that my cousin Jen recommended) and he's apparently real nice and effective, so hopefully we'll get this handled and it won't cost me our first born (because those bitches ain't getting my Tayderbug!). 

Nerves, anxiety and stress aside, at the end of the day, I get to come home to my loving husband and amazing furbabies and they do shit like leave me a trail of flowers from the front door of our house into the kitchen (to the steak), so I officially know my little Gatorbaby is cooking me dinner. 

And that, my friends, is what they call balance.

I've been spacing out and using all of my energy to get through the day.

Have you ever had one of those days where your mood is all wonky and you have no idea why? Well, that's been my mood for the last two weeks. 

I'm not in a bad mood. 

I would say that I'm in a good mood, but everything just feels.... off.

And maybe that's just my mind playing tricks on me or whatnot, who knows really? The fact of the matter is, things have been weird lately and D and I have been trying to take our downtime easy and spend all of it together. 

Work has been hectic, so when we get home in the evenings, we like to relax and just be with one another. Even if I'm reading and he's playing COD, we're still next to each other. Just us and our pups.

I find comfort in the fact that I look next to me and see my best friend and husband wrapped up into one sexy-tree like package. I don't know why and I don't really care. 

I've accepted that while I struggle with my mental health every single day, it's a struggle that I'm willing to fight. 

I don't know what I've done to deserve the bad things in my life. I don't know what I've done to deserve the amazing things in my life. But, f*ck me, if I'm not gonna grab onto it with both hands and just keeping running.