Category: My Thoughts

Two Months

Last night my patient was told she had two months to live. Maybe more, maybe less…

She sat there listening to what the doctor had to say about her poor prognosis, tears building behind her eyes.

He tenderly answered her questions, leaving her no more further scenarios to ponder within her bald head.

He left. I stayed.

I handed her some tissues, helped dry her sunken face, and held her hand as we waited for her family’s return.

She then looked at me suddenly, grinning as she said, “Well… now I have a reason to get cable and sip my fucking margaritas right?”

And I giggled and replied, “Yes… I believe you fucking do”.

❤️🙌

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This Week…

Tonight doesn’t feel like a poetry kind of night…

It feels like a thinking/venting night and fuck… have I been thinking and wanting to vent it out. This week… lord has it been a week. Honestly… it’s been a beautiful disaster of a seven day stretch and I feel as if I’ve somehow done a year’s worth of learning/growing.

First, I lost my best friend (and that basically shattered me). Second, my biggest/worst fucking secret in the world, which I held precariously for years, came to light (and that turned my shatters into dust). Third, the secret ended up not being a secret like I thought (and then complete confusion consumed my said dust particles). Fourth… I learned not to tell my secrets to anyone besides my fucking cats (who don’t know more than ten words of fucking English anyways).

So I’ll break it down into a cute little list of things I learned and discovered this week:

  • Sometimes I have to be strong for just myself (not others).
  • What is meant to be is what is meant to be (good or not).
  • I cannot change the past (no matter how hard I think I can).
  • Time machines are not a fucking real thing (thanks Google for the unrealistic blueprints).
  • Secrets always come out (no matter what you do to hide the trails).
  • Don’t drink alcohol and tell those secrets (then those secrets are then just general information).
  • Don’t get a low blood sugar at work from skipping meals (you will get sick at work, look really dumb, and have eight co-worker nurses stabbing you with needles).
  • I really really really miss my best friend (A LOT).
  • My cats are the most adorable things on the planet (besides otters… I really love otters).
  • I’m going to grow up and be a recluse cat lady (95% likely).

All in all, it’s been a depressing yet gratifying week. Although, I would have appreciated all these events to be in separate weeks… but maybe next time.

Cheers!!!

P.S. Thank you everyone for keeping me going this week with all the positive comments and love. It means more than you can imagine. ❤ Hal

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Self-Help

Current status…

Currently… I’m sitting here on my kitchen floor. Thinking. Writing to you.

In between my batches of chocolate walnut cookies (which smell fucking delicious btw), I’m reading a self-help book with Halsey playing in the background. Yeah yeah. I fucking broke down. Bought myself a damn self-help book from Amazon…

Maybe you have also bought a book like this. So stupidly inspirational that your whole damn life forever changes after the first chapter. I’m skeptical… but apparently fucking completely desperate for any answers or guide to changing myself at this point.

It’s bright yellow. Has basic font. A very cheery looking book. Simply titled, “YOU are a BADASS”. A guide on how to stop doubting my greatness and start living an awesome life. Basically, I figured if I was ACTUALLY going to read a self-help book it was going to have fucking sass and lots of damn cuss words. Please excuse my french.

I’m ready to start actually fucking loving myself. I want to see all the great things that everyone else apparently sees in me that I’m missing. I want to fucking discover myself and be able to mold myself into who I was meant to be. Yeah… I’ve been slowly starting to learn how to love my shitty flaws, but maybe trying something different (something with a zest of cringe) could be the extra boost that I need right now. Cringe.

So here’s to my fucking seemingly impossible soul searching mission. Wish me some luck!!!

Also… praying that the chapter “Leading with my crotch” is not going to be a literal concept… I’ll let you know.

Cheers!

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2020

Fucking welcome aboard 2020!

A new year and a fresh start? Yeah… I think new year’s resolutions are complete bull. We should all be trying to resolve our problems the WHOLE damn year, not just the first two weeks of it. However, I am curious to see what I can fucking accomplish in the next 357 days of 2020.

Will I be able to change all the things about myself I dislike? Will I be able to stop wondering what others think about me? Will I be able to stop myself from seeing myself as just a number on a scale? Will I be able to hold strong to my values, even if it lets others down?

Can I be the strongest I’ve ever fucking been? Can I not make the same shitty mistakes that I’ve made over and over again? Can I love others more than I’ve ever loved them? And… Can I truly and honestly love myself?

2020… Let me give you a go.

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Drinking Buddies

What makes me do the stupid fucking things I do?

I keep making poor decisions… and then carefully walking on eggshells praying they don’t come back to bite me in the ass. I feel like I’m doing these things to punish myself. Which is pushing myself farther into depression.

I have become somewhat of a professional fuck-up over this last year. I keep telling myself… “Dude… you won’t fucking do this shit again… you learned a valuable life lesson today bitch”. I mean… fuck… I’m 26 and still haven’t seemed to learn anything from my mistakes.

Yup.

Bullshit. Here I am, once again, mentally spiraling into a rabbit hole. Drinking vodka, building a model ship, and watching corny romance movies with my damn cats. BTW… “Drinking Buddies” (with the hottie Jake Johnson from New Girls) is really fucking good.

So, now I need to end the year off on the right foot and fix another mistake. I’ve got umm…. holy balls… only 19 more days to make this fuck-up better.

Well fuck. Here’s to hoping I learned an actual lesson today and that I can fix what I regret! Cheers!

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Wounds

Everyone has a story to tell.

Everyday as a nurse, I care for someone who has a story to tell. It could be a juicy romance, a historical non-fiction, or a very fucking dark tragedy. However, in every story I hear… there is a wound, a heartbreak, or a trauma.

I’ve met people who have lost limbs in wars, families who have lost children, and those so sick they have given only days to live… and they all have a story to tell based on their own personal tragedy. And even though they may be telling me the damn worst imaginable story (that make me cry in the bathroom afterwards)… majority of the time they are at fucking peace and have accepted their pasts.

I am coming to realize that everything that makes us who we are… are our dark pasts and wounds. Every scar tells a story. Every trauma that we face molds us into the person that we are. It is up to us, me and whoever you are reading this, to make the best out of the traumas we are dealt. We need to be able to grow, learn, and accept our past wounds to become better people. i mean… fuck… the shit that each of us has gone through or is going through is terrible. But…

We only have one life. ONE FUCKING LIFE. So don’t ignore your fucky past, accept it. Make the best out of every fucking day. Live without regrets. Create amazing memories. Love others and yourself.

Honor the fucking traumas that molded your story.

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Soulmates

Are we truly born to meet one person to share our life with?

Switching it up tonight by talking about something not completely depressing and fucked up. Tonight I’m here thinking…

Maybe in this world we have more than one person we are supposed to connect deeply with. Maybe it’s a past life thing, like two people have known each other before in a previous life. Maybe this is just how the spirit works. Everyone out there has met someone, felt a deep connection, and thought, “I feel like I’ve known them for fucking forever”. Maybe in life we have many people that we are supposed to find, like magnets being drawn to each other though piles of rubble and trash. These people are our soulmates (not always romantic) that are there to help us grow and learn.

And fuck… I’m finding people to help me learn and grow.

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Sometimes I Drive

Some days I wake up feeling okay. I am productive and genuinely fucking happy. Then out of nowhere… it hits. Depression.

Depression is like standing alone in a gray fog of nothingness, in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly being hit by a semi.

I can go from feeling on top of the world to complete emptiness in a blink of an eye. When this happens I drive. Sometimes I drive for fifteen minutes, sometimes for an hour. Driving nowhere. Driving in circles around the lake down the road from my house. Driving past fields of cows and happy little white houses. Driving down roads shadowed by the old oak trees I love. Then I blast my fucking stereo and I sing as loud as I can. I hold my hand out the window as I drive, feeling the air between my fingers, pushing my hands up into the sky. And then…

Then I feel a shitload better. For a little bit anyways. It always comes back though and I have a feeling it always will. However, I am coming to terms with these feelings and figuring out how not to fucking want to die. The feelings of utter sadness gnawing in the back of my head trying to make their way through. I will never be completely “okay”, but in these moments I know I have to push through because I am loved. I have people that count on me and want me to be on this planet. Even when death seems like the best option, I know that I can not let my loved ones down.

Suicide is truly a selfish act when you have people around you that care about you. I think… your death is like a pebble hitting water. The pebble hits and sinks down underneath the surface, never to come back up, and makes little ripples that effect all the water around it. The pebble isn’t just sinking like it hopes to, it’s moving and disturbing everything around it.

I refuse to be that selfish stupid fucking pebble.

Those reading my words right now, who understand, who are pushed to the edge on a damn near regular basis… I want you to read these words. You are fucking loved by someone and you will fucking prevail. Everyday might not be great, or even good, possibly even really really shitty… but you are worth it.

We are so fucking worth it.

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Friday the Fucking Thirteenth

Maybe it’s because of the trifecta today (Full moon, harvest moon, & Friday the thirteenth) that I feel extreme anxiety. Or maybe it’s just me.

No… it’s definitely just me. Although, I do believe that the fucking moon cycles do not help and damn I’m feeling it tonight. Maybe you’re reading this on your screen right now thinking the same thing. Maybe not.

I figured I’d start out this special day with explaining one of my biggest downfalls. That darn mother fucking anxiety.

Maybe you’re reading this, same issue, being able to relate to me. If not, I’ll describe what I feel. When I feel anxious I feel as if a fucking clamp is around my head, my stomach is fluttering, my heart rate speeds up, my palms get so damn sweaty, I’m terrified for no reason, and my mind isn’t stopping. My thoughts spiral. I’m thinking about everything and nothing all at the same time. “Why I’m I anxious?” “What do I do?” “I can’t handle this.” “Maybe it’s about “fill in the blank”.” Anything, everything, and nothing triggers it. It’s just always there, in the back of my head, trying to prevent me from living my life, trying to stop me from living. So, I want you, my reader, to imagine this… you’re standing in the middle of a beach. It’s beautiful. The sky is so blue and the water foams as it hits the sand. Melodic waves kissing your ears. The birds are chatting together in the grass-covered dune behind you. Peace. You feel at peace. You look up. Gazing at the clouds, you’re listening to the sounds of boaters in the sea. You look forward to look upon the happiness of the people in the motorboat and you see a FUCKING BOAT SPIRALING RIGHT TOWARD YOU! Yeah. Imagine that feeling of complete fear and anxiety for more than the 3 seconds it takes for a goddamn boat run up on shore and plow you down.

And guess what usually is the cause for my anxiety. Just guess. Absolutely. Fucking. Nothing. No reason. Nada. Zip.

Well fuck that. I’ve lived with this shit my whole life. Yes I do have panic attacks. Yes it definitely is a reason for some of my depression/unhealthy habits. Yes I hate it. I hate that the majority of the time when someone asks me “what’s wrong?” I don’t even fucking know. So… I say “I’m fine”. Classic right? Then I bury my anxiety and feelings down, so deep, for so long that one day they explode.

So I’m here, still working on controlling my shitlicious (yeah you like that new word) anxiety and learning how to deal with it when it happens. You, that person behind the pixels of that computer screen, either get this or don’t. If you are that person, the one that feels me, I fucking understand you. You are not fucking crazy. You are not fucking alone.

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