Thoughts on Depression

I've been on the antidepressants for a while now and they are quite definitely helping.

Before Antidepressants Average Day:
Wake up. Cry. Work. Excuse myself to the bathroom to cry. Home. Cry. Watch tv, or read a book, or anything that may get me out of my head. Try to sleep, can't sleep. Start cycle all over again.

Now:
Wake up, Work, Home, Go out, hang with friends, laugh, bed.

Except the last couple of days. The last few have been bad. Really bad. Scary bad. Yesterday, I woke up late, rushed around, forgot I had to get gas on the way to work, was 20 minutes late, felt so awful about being late I started berating myself in my head.

My depression: Stupid bitch. You can't do anything right. Everything you do is never going to be good enough. If you hadn't switched out your alarm clock, this wouldn't have happened. You're an idiot. It's the fucking busy time, you have to get shit done. Now you threw off the whole day.

Then there was a miscommunication about the hours that would be worked on Saturday, where I thought I was getting shorted for the week. I got angry and paranoid and pissed. When the dust cleared and all was well, the boss gave me shit for not taking the time to think things through and acting like a fool. Bam.

Depression: See! You can't think right. You aren't patient enough. You assume the worst. And your boss hates you and if you keep pissing him off there goes your job and then what will you do? Fucking no good, piece of shit. Keep your head down and do your fucking job.

That was when I realized the bad thought spiral had begun and was already snowballing. I texted my friend to let her know I wouldn't be able to make it out to her party and offered a raincheck for a later time. Got back the reply: Noted. Well, fuck me sideways. Everything I touch is just turning to shit.

I can't deal with being around people. I'm already taking any little thing way too much to heart. Now I've let a friend down on top of everything else.

Depression: You're a horrible friend. You can't even suck it up and make it out for one night? The fuck is wrong with you, stupid whiny bitch. And look at you, you weak stupid bitch, crying again. Cry baby.

Text from roomie: Can you let out and feed the dog? I'll be home late.
Reply: Sure. Where are you going?
Roomie: Mutual friend's house.
Reply: have fun.

Depression: You see! Proof again that you suck and no one wants to be around you. Your friend didn't want to spend time with you.

Further texts with roomie where I let her know I was having a really bad day and she was supportive and kind. Then texts from mutual friend inviting me over and supportive kindness.

Started to settle down a little. Home then a little tv then bath then sleep.

Texted the boy to let him know I wasn't going anywhere. Made vague plans for today. Jumped on facebook and was messaged by a friend. At this point my brain just said NO. Let her know I just couldn't and then got a comment from the birthday girl that let me know, yup, she's pissed. Cried myself into a headache. Then messaged her trying to explain a little that if I had it in me, I'd be there.
She doesn't know me that well and has no clue that this is seriously unusual behavior from me.

Took a bath for about three minutes before dropping my kindle in the water. Really?

Depression: Fool! You know better than that shit. Serves you right. Would've been better off if it had electrocuted you. At least then you wouldn't be fucking up everything and other people's lives.

Got the back cover off the kindle, laid it out to dry. Took a pill to help me sleep and alternately stared at the ceiling and cried for an hour before going to sleep.

Woke up late because of the sleeping tablet and rushed through to get to work this morning. This morning, I'm back on my even keel and doing just fine.

Hallelujah. If that nonsense had continued, I would've had to make an apt with the Psychiatrist and switch up meds or something.

I can tell when it's my depression talking. I can argue it down with common sense most of the time. Yesterday was plain awful. Today is pretty good and hopefully tonight will be awesome.






 

New Car!

I'm getting a new car on thursday evening. I can't wait. It's little and cute and sporty and green and I love it love it love it!
No more disintegrating leather on the steering wheel.
No more antenna stuck in the up position.
No more cassette tape stuck in the deck.
No more overheating.
No more disconnecting the battery.
No more trunk that destroys things.
No more chipped paint.
No more florida fade.
No more cloudy headlights.
No more dented bumper.
No more mystery stain.
No more ground in smoker smell.
No more cigarette burns.
No more wondering if I can fit in that spot.
Clean and shiny and pretty and new!
One more day. One more day.

Favorite Songs

1. Mike &the Mechanics - The Living Years
2. Leonard Cohen - Hallelujah
3. Unknown - As the Deer Panteth For the Water
4. Pachelbel - Canon
5. Etta James - At Last
6. Annette Hanshaw - I Wanna Be Loved You
7. Kristy McNichol - Hold On
8. Simon & Garfunkel - Richard Cory
9. Simon & Garfunkel - Sound of Silence
10. Mumford & Sons - Little Lion Man
11. Mumford & Sons - Sigh No More
12. Indigo Girls - Closer to Fine
Why?
Obviously I enjoy sad story songs with good melody and if you give me harmonization as well I'm in heaven

The State of My Mind

I have an appointment with a shrink on the 14th. I keep having imaginary conversations with my shrink-to-be. Explaining that I'm not really crazy and just need some drugs to keep me that way.

I'm depressed. No suicidal ideation as yet. (For the layman that means I'm not making plans to off myself)

I have a personal history of depression starting as a teenager. Then as I grew it stabilized to just ruining my life in the winter.

Every winter, I'd go into hibernation. Didn't want to leave the house or see anyone, talk to anyone, or do anything.

I decided I deserved having my winters back so I moved to Florida.
Year One, no depression at all.
Year 2-7 still good.
Year 8: 2 dead grandparents and trips to cold climate meant about six months of mourning/depression.
Year 9: Melancholy tendencies but no severe problems. Needed a few nudges to get out of the house.
Year 10 aka Now: I've cried every day for the last month and a half and it doesn't seem to be stopping. I'd made and canceled plans because I don't feel capable of dealing with people socially. I got off facebook because any sad post was guaranteed to make me cry. I can't deal well with other people's problems right now. I don't want to and I just can't handle it. I started staying up insanely late to read or watch tv or avoid reality in other ways. This leaves me tired and worn out and doing a shit job at work. I can't concentrate on tasks. I can't get my shit together.

I'm tired, lonely, and don't feel like anyone could understand. Then I started thinking that maybe I just wasn't worth bothering about. That is what made me pick up the phone and make an appointment.

I'd been down that road before. That way leads to  knives and death plans and making really, really bad decisions.

I'm doing what I should be. Get outside, see the sun.
Find activities that make me happy.
Eat my veggies.

I'm trying. Really trying the best that I can.

I started losing my temper and snapping at people.  Swearing at one and hanging up in their face. I haven't hung up on someone since I was a teenager.

I hate getting angry. I keep a lid on it tight 99% of the time. I look at the bigger picture and remember that anger doesn't achieve anything.

But when you aren't being listened to, sometimes you need to yell. And right now I feel like no one is listening.
 

Temporary Fixes

I left Facebook. Half of the people who are in contact with me get in touch via Facebook. I just cut so many people out of my life.

Time to get away from screens and back to living.
 

Lost in my own head

I realized I haven't written in a little while. Why?

I've been busy playing Candy Crush Saga.
I've been reading some decent books.
I've been watching both good and godawful tv.

This is not good. I've been all input and no output. Most times for me that means there's something I'm trying really hard not to think about. Escaping into fantasy to avoid the reality.

So next question is.... What's wrong?

I'm feeling disconnected. I'm feeling fat and ugly and stupid. I'm feeling like life isn't that bad for me so I shouldn't complain. I'm feeling like if I give in to the depression, I won't come back up. I'm feeling like I'm forcing too many laughs and faking too many smiles. I'm feeling like no one can understand because the "Why?" of it all is too nebulous to define.

Progression.
Bad day, temper shortens. Eat comfort food, escape into internet, print, or TV.

Can't sleep well, cranky and tired therefore bad day again. Eat comfort food, escape into internet, print, or TV.

Repeat.
Repeat.

I have excellent friends. I can talk to them. Tell them what's twisted up in my head but not if I can't explain it to myself. Besides, everyone has their own problems. People are dealing with illness, death, unemployment, relationship issues, blah, blah, blah.

So I keep my mouth shut. My problems are small. Lonely and disconnected isn't really a big problem.
 For a while.

The weight is increasing. I still can't figure out what is wrong but it's starting to wear me down.

It's not like I haven't been through this before. Every time I slide down this slope, I just get terrified of not being able to climb back up. I've been at the bottom of the pit before. So far down you can't see the sun anymore.

I'm not in the pit yet but the slope is getting steeper and my fingers are getting weaker.

I know what I need to do and I'm doing some of it.
I'm interacting with others, even when I don't want to.
I'm going out in public, even though I don't want to.
I need to do the things that always make me smile.
I need to be outside.
I need to be by the water.
I need to be able to let myself cry this out.
I need to put myself first for a bit.

The horrible thing is that I really really don't want to post this. Because then comes the smothering. And the constant "How are you feeling?" And the fear of leaving me alone. I don't want people to worry about me. I will be ok. I'm just not ok now. But if I don't talk about it and share what's happening then I'll just keep feeling disconnected.

And the very fact that I'm not wanting to bother anyone about how I'm feeling shows exactly how low my self esteem is right now. Back in my suicidal days, that was my modus operandi. I'm not worth bothering about. I knew people loved me. It didn't matter. I wasn't worthy of any of it. Everything I touched turned to shit. All I could focus on was every little thing I did wrong.

The other problem is people believing me when I tell them I'm depressed. You? You're happy girl! Come on. They assume it's a quick get over it or I just want attention or they take me seriously and over react.

I'm not about to off myself. I never will. I'm just struggling a little bit. I need to find my happy again.

Hidradenitis 3- Less Ugly than Before

If you haven't read Hidradenitis 1 &2, please do. Otherwise you'll be totally lost.

So another month and a bit of the new antibiotic has gone by. Another month and a half at least to go.

Vast improvement. Like fantastic. No open wounds at all. No swelling, no infection.

I've been slacking on using the topical ointments like I should. It's easy to forget now that it's so much better.

I'll always have the nasty scarring at this point. This will come back again. But I look back on the years (and I do mean years) of suffering and pain and infection and discomfort and wonder again. Why the hell did I wait so long to get treatment?

For right now, I'm taking my pills like I should. I'll start using the topicals again like I should. I did quit smoking(6 weeks now). The doc said hidradenitis is more prevalent in smokers than non and did suggest quitting. My sinuses are thrilled with me quitting. Only 2 sudafed since I stopped. Yay!

Keeping up the fight. I want to be healthy. I deserve to be healthy. So I have to make the choices to do it.

Wish me luck.

Ex Talk

So my ex called me last night. After midnight and we all know what that means. Amongst other things we chatted about, he asked me a question.

"You know me. How do I treat women?"he asked.
"Holy crap, man. You realize who you're asking, right?" I replied.
"Yeah, I know we have history but you know what I mean." he said.
"Well, you've been a complete asshole at times. Treated me like crap." I said matter-of-factly.
Dumbfounded silence.
"Wow. Really? I feel like crap now." he said.
"What? You want me to lie to you? Not all the time but you definitely had your moments." I replied.
"No, but..... I... I gotta go." he said hurriedly diving out of the emotional wreckage.
"Goodnight." I said a little sadly.

I think it'll be a little bit before he tries to call me again.

Now for the sad part. I feel bad for making him feel bad. I didn't lie. He asked me the question, I didn't volunteer. It's a little sad that I still want to protect him from pain. It's a lot sad that he didn't realize until that second that he treated me badly.

He won't apologize. The boy doesn't do that. I've been so ridiculously easy on him. It must've been like the family dog suddenly turning around and biting you.

The other sad thing is that we were finally beginning to be able to just talk as friends again. Now that I've shown my teeth, we may not be able too.

I can say it's his loss and that would be true but it wouldn't be the whole truth. The truth is it's my loss too. I like him. He's incapable of commitment (at least to me), he's fond of the bottle, and he says some of the stupidest nonsense I've ever heard, but he also is loyal to his friends, always ready with a joke, and has held me when I cried.

Change isn't that scary

                18 days and not even a drag off a friend's smoke. I hereby pronounce myself a non-smoker. So this change went so well, I've decided to make some more.
     
  I've already accomplished one other thing without even trying. No soda or any caffeinated beverage past 2 pm. I'm trying not to drink my calories. Also caffeine is hitting me like a brick nowadays.

          I want to be more active. Kickball, swimming, and taking walks will become a regular part of my life. I love playing basketball, volleyball, tennis and such. I enjoy it. So why aren't I doing it? My friends are great people but they aren't the most active. So I'm trying to get others I know to hang out and play and it's time to meet some new people.
         
        Meeting new people. This is the slightly scary one. I joined a dating website for the first time ever. It's weird. I'm not desperate and it just feels like a desperate thing to do. I know, I know. A lot of my friends meet people online all the time. I don't judge them. They're showing courage by actively looking for what they want. The problem is this. I can't judge how I'll get along with someone until I actually meet them. My gut can't tell who's an ok guy from a picture and a paragraph. It's only been a couple of days on the site so we'll see how it goes.

        I want to be more politically active. Why shouldn't I be standing up for what I believe in? I went to a March Against Monsanto where I knew no one and I had a good time. I've voted Libertarian since I could vote and I may want to get involved in local politics in some capacity. I'm NOT going to run for office but I'd like to help promote the Libertarian agenda.

       Medically, I've been keeping up with my doctor's appointments and taking medications like I should. I need to get back to the dentist for a cleaning. I also need to make and keep an appointment with a chiropractor and get my neck fixed.

        Call it an early mid life crisis. I am the only one who can change my life. So why shouldn't I? If I want adventure and excitement and new and unusual, it's not coming to see me in my living room. I have to go meet it.

Wish me luck.

Hidradenitis 2: The Ugly continues

Please read Hidradenitis first as this is just an update.

So what had happened was....

The medication they first tried me on got me sick.

My side effects: I dealt with the dry skin. I dealt with the dandruff. I dealt with the red and orange pee and poop. I dealt with the constant thirst. I dealt with everything tasting like metal. I said to myself that it would be worth it. Then my back started acting up and I was stiff in all my joints. The stiffness got worse and I was constantly cracking my knuckles and trying to stretch away the... pain. I woke up in  the morning and almost fell over getting out of bed. My hands hurt enough that it was difficult to brush my teeth. I popped six motrin and went to work. Called the doc. She told me to stop taking them. That if the side effects were this severe two weeks in, I would only deal with more severe side effects for being on it another 8 weeks. I'm angry and upset since the meds were working on my skin. For the first time in years, I don't have an open sore. I was so hopeful. Now it's back to the doc on the 15th for a new and different med.

 

 Within 3 days of being off the meds, my joints felt absolutely fine again.

 

Now I'm on doxycline and switching the topicals to every other day instead of daily. Only one inflamed area became an issue and I had a shot of cortisone today to take it down a notch. Two months until my next appointment.

 

Keeping on, keeping on.

Just me. And that's plenty good enough.

I tend to share a lot of myself with the world. My hopes, my dreams, my fears, I put them on display through social media and conversation. I don't hide things.

The other day, I was having a conversation with a friend and she told me I was the least private person she knew. She on the other hand is very private. I told her why I'm not. And now you get to know too.

What is the point of privacy? Hiding your true self and how you feel. Why would you do that? Fear.
Fear of judgement, persecution, resentment.

I will not live in fear. I want people to like me for who I am. Not for the image I project. If they don't then oh well.

We live by so many arbitrary rules everyday, many of which are antiquated and useless.

Let me give you a quick and easy example.

Clothing.
It is acceptable on a hot summer day on the beach or a park or a basketball court for only one gender to take their shirt off.
Why?
It's immodest for a woman to show her body?
It's to keep the woman safe as all men are sexual predators waiting to attack once they see bare flesh? Boobs burn easy?

So if a girl and a guy are both walking around without a shirt on, why the hell is only the girl going to be arrested for indecent exposure?

Now I'm not saying, "Hey ladies! Let's all walk around topless!" I'm just pointing out basic pointless traditions which became rules and laws.

We follow the trends. We "Just Say No!" to acid washed jeans. We will wear painted faces everyday to work because THAT is what makes us professional. We wear shoes that hurt our feet in ten minutes of wear because that is "Appropriate" office apparel for women. (It's ok. The big strong men will take care of us.)

We are lied to about our worth as women and as human beings on a daily basis by TRADITION.

Tell me if any of this sounds familiar.
1. You aren't married? Don't worry you'll find someone.
2. No kids yet? Tick tock.
3. Don't hurt yourself picking up that 15 lb box. I'll take care of that for you, little lady.
4. What's the problem? Is it that time of the month?
5. You can change a tire? By yourself?
6. What are you reading? One of those romance novels you girls like?
7. You know you should wear shorter skirts if you want to get a guy.
8. I'll bet you're a great cook.
9. Can you sew on a button for me?
10. All you women are crazy.

According to society, at my age I should be married with kids and spend my day with cooking, cleaning and needlework.
According to society since I'm not, I am not worth as much as those who are.
According to society, I must be either: A. Unable to keep a man because I'm deficient in looks. B. One of those damn feminists. or C. A psycho hosebeast.

You can be a Nobel Prize Winner but if you happen to be female your life just isn't complete until you're married and breeding.

Screw that noise.

I work 40 hours a week. I pay my own bills. I can change my own tire. I can put together a shelving unit. I cook my own meals. I have no kids. I don't want any kids. I TAKE CARE OF MYSELF.


I'm not married and don't know if ever I will be. But I can tell you one thing for certain. Unless I meet and fall in love with a guy who sees, accepts, acknowledges, and appreciates my strength of body, character, mind and heart.............. I won't be.

I am complete by myself. I don't need someone else to complete me. I am not less because I am not part of a couple. I am not less because I don't want children. I am not less because I'm not beautiful.

I reject those lies. I AM ENOUGH.

Screw you society. You're a jerk. I don't have to listen to you.






 

Unsent Letter

I hate finding out important stuff from other people. It makes me feel like you don't think about me. It makes me feel like you don't trust me.

I don't want to have to be the one to pick up the phone and call you. I certainly don't want to be handed off to someone else to talk to. That just makes me feel like you don't care about what I have to say.

I am not an inconvenience. I am part of your life. I'm someone who will always love you.

But right now, your actions are making me feel like I'm not important to you.

That hurts. And pisses me off.

You will always be a part of my life. This isn't new. You acting this way. So I have to either accept it or throw a fit about it.

You went into the hospital. I heard about it a week later from your someone else. You wrecked your car. I heard about it 12 days later from again someone who isn't you.

This is unacceptable.

I know I live in another state and out of sight is often out of mind but come on.

And then my dad walked in (ADULTS ONLY)

My boyfriend and I had the house to ourselves. Mom was at work. Brother off at college. Dad at a computer fair. So one thing led to another and we were "Having fun" in the living room.

On this particular occasion, having fun included a "massaging device". You get the picture.  If you don't then you are too young to be reading this anyway.

So there I was on the couch in a skirt and nothing else and there he was mostly clothed and busy.

Rattle went the doorknob.
"No!" came out of our mouths in unision.

I ran to the bathroom. He zipped and straightened up and tossed the "massaging device" under the couch.

I tried to think. I didn't know what was seen. I splashed water on my hair and threw a towel around myself and tried to play it off. I walked back out to the living room and grabbed my clothes off the couch.

"Hey, Dad! You got back early. Hey, sweetie. I'm just gonna change and then I'll be ready. Sorry about the wait." said I blushing furiously.

My guy was sitting on the couch, his face bright red. My dad in the armchair, face hidden behind a newspaper.

I changed into fresh clothes and went back out to the living room. I sat beside my guy on the couch.
He looked at me and mouthed silently "It's under the couch."

Well, no quick escape then. We had to retrieve the "massaging device" before my parents found it.

He moved to sit on the floor as did I to block some of the view. My dad was just sitting reading the paper and smiling.

"So Dad, no new computer this time?" I said, trying to divert his attention while my guy was trying to grab the wayward device.

"Nope. Not this time." he said and continued reading.

All of a sudden, I hear buzzing. Loud buzzing. He almost had it and it turned on while it was against the wood frame of the couch. He got it and shut it off and shoved it in his jacket pocket. He just looks terrified.

At this point we are both three shades of tomato red and are praying he doesn't ask what that sound was.

Time to make an escape.

"Ok, Dad. We're supposed to meet up with some friends at the pool hall. I won't be home for dinner but I'll be back by curfew. Ok?" I spat out quickly while standing up and grabbing my jacket.

My father put down the paper and looked at us. Just looked at us.

"Ok?"I asked.

"Well, that must have been very embarrassing for both of you." said my dad. And then he started laughing.
"Be home by curfew."

My dad is awesome.

The Freedom of not being Pretty

I am not pretty.

This isn't me being down on myself. I'm not saying I'm ugly or deformed or anything. I'm not fishing for compliments. I'm just not pretty.

It used to bug me. We are taught that we need to be pretty. Dye your hair, lose the weight, get the surgery. Screw that.

My worth does not lay in the way I look. It is in what I do and who I am.

I scratched my finger yesterday on a needle. When checking it to make sure it wasn't getting infected, I noticed something. I have a scar that runs paralel to it. I kept looking. I have a scar on every finger.

What does this say about me? I'm not scared to get my hands dirty. I'm a worker. I have calluses and hangnails. I also have silver nail polish on cause I'm contradictory like that.

I'm short and solid. Wide shoulders, wide hips, wide feet and a wide smile. I'm built sturdy. I won't blow over in a wind.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, I had two little girls talking about me.
Sarah " Miss Kristen, why do you have so many freckles?"
Cynthia "Sarah! They aren't freckles. They're beauty marks. And since she has so many, she must be the most beautiful girl in the world."
I laughed so hard.

I figure that this saved me some pain in life. And tons of maintenance. I don't straighten and blowdry my hair everyday. I wear makeup maybe once or twice a week. I shave my legs on a monthly basis. Even when I was thin, my hips had me in a size 12.

Gracefulness was never an option, delicate is not who I am. I'm not a Princess who needs protection. I'm capable and strong and independent.

I'm good with that. People want to get to know me for my personality. Now my personality is pretty damn good. Or at least I think so. I have a lot more friends than enemies. And my close friends are some of the best people I've ever met.

Besides the truth is this. If someone really loves you, they think you're gorgeous. They see the beauty of your kisses, not the freckles on your lips. They see the flash in your eyes and not the circles underneath. They fall for your soul not your body.



 

The Ugly Disease - Hidradenitis

I finally went to the doctor. I had an open lesion on my inner thigh and one on my rear end. None in the armpits for once. I've had so many there that my armpits and the skin just below are a mass of scars and pitted skin. Not to mention the blackheads that no amount of scrubbing gets rid of. My inner thighs are almost as bad. Friction from walking generally makes those boils burst quicker so I don't have to deal with it as long. I also have some light scarring under my breasts from some popping up there ocasscionally as well.

This disease, what it does to me, is not new. It's just newly diagnosed.

I didn't know what it was for years. It started slow. I had a blister or something under my arm. Oh well, my bra just rubbed me wrong. It healed. Then I'd get these boils that felt like there were little peas under my skin. Oh well, I need to lose weight so my skin won't rub together like that. Bring on the baby powder until I realized I couldn't use it at night without waking up with a sinus headache from breathing it in. No sleeveless shirts and must have a skirt on the swimsuit. Whatever you do you mustn't raise your arms in public.

It started getting worse. It got to the point that I pretty much had an open wound at all times.

I still didn't go to the doctor.

Then I had a conversation one night at the bar. Chatting with a friend, she told me about her skin condition that she was going to have to have surgery for. Hidradenitis Suppurativa. It all clicked. I asked lots more questions and did some online research. Then I went on Google and did an image search. Trust me. It is not pretty. But one of the moderate cases looked exactly like what I had going on. She gave me a bunch of helpful hints on using special cleanser and bodywash and of course told me to get to the doctor.

I still didn't go to the doctor for 2 more years.

Why?

Fear.

Fear of embarassment. It's ugly and raw and there is puss and blood. It's gross.

Fear of it being true. Hidradenitis is incurable. Treatable but incurable. If I went to the doctor and it was true then I would have a "pre-existing condition" What if I switched jobs? Would I be covered? What if I have to have surgery? I'm too young to have a disease I have to deal with for life.

Fear of the unknown.  So much of what I read about it was vague. They don't know what causes it. They don't have a solid treatment plan. Worse case scenario is they would have to remove sections of skin that are too infected and scarred to be saved.

Fear of worse down the road. Hidradenitis is often paired with some other fun diseases. Crohn's, Hashimoto's thyroidosis, and a few other immune disorders.

So what finally made me go to the dermatologist? 

My butt. I'd never had a boil there before. It was spreading.

No more excuses. No more delays. No more giving in to the fear.

March 21, 2013- I went to my appointment.

I have Hidradenitis. It's confirmed. No samples, no cultures were needed.
Since I haven't had any treatment ever for this, they started me on a 10 week course of antibiotics, two topical creams, and a high dosage of Zinc. They hoped that it would shock it into remission for awhile. Remission. That's a scary word. It means they hope to buy me some time away from the pain and infection. But that it'll probably come back. Just wait and see.

There is more of this tale to tell but it'll have to wait for another day.

If you want more info on what I'm dealing with, this link is a decent one to check.
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/hidradenitis-suppurativa/DS00818

I miss you, my friend.

I miss you. I miss the crazy conversations we've had. I miss us giggling like fools over something silly. I miss your smile. I miss the simple fun we had together. I miss the drives just because. I miss the comfort of your prescence. You still are my friend but life changes. We grow apart.

We make new friends, who are great people, but that little spark isn't there often. The little spark that tells us, this one is my true and good friend. That even though we may fight and fuss, we will always be there, always love each other come hell or high water. The one that we trust completely and know entirely.

We know each other's secrets. We've seen the worst and the best of each other. That's so rare and special.

Maybe it's just harder to trust when you get older. It's harder to push yourself forward and tell someone, "You're cool. Wanna be friends?"

I'm glad you are my friend. I'm glad you accept my own personal brand of crazy and feel free to share your own. I'm sorry I had to move away. I know you understand why it had to be done. I know you know how damaged and broken I would have been if I stayed. And you know exactly how hard it was for me to leave.

No matter where we are, I will always love you. It makes me crazy that all I can offer you is my words. Long distance is always hard on any kind of relationship.

I'm ok. I really truly am. I just wish that when I'm celebrating something or mourning something, that you could be there. You have a room in my heart that will never be filled by anyone else. Every now and then, I have to open it up and look at all the memories we have together.

I love you. I miss you. Now and always.

My Friend the Writer!!!

http://anablaze.blogspot.com/

Cover Design by Suzannah Safi! Isn’t it pretty?

Beth Chase is too busy planning perfect weddings to worry about the lack of action in her own love life. But if she was looking for a man, she wouldn’t be looking at Colin Pratt. Her boss swears that Best Man Colin is a quiet scholar and science fiction writer who couldn’t possibly cause a fuss at his own brother’s wedding. He’s clearly never met the man in question. Snarky, sexy and more than a little inebriated, Colin is the final obstacle between Beth and the last perfect wedding she needs to make partner. Of course, when she helps him into a taxi at the end of the night she has no idea that he’s only just begun to poke holes in her professional exterior. Colin might have the skills to seduce a romance professional, but can he convince her that he’s the best man to share her happy ever after?

Available from Entranced Publishing in Summer 2013!

To keep on top of news about The Best Man and other books from Ana Blaze and for the chance to WIN a $10 E-Gift Card for Amazon.com, make sure to Like Ana Blaze’s Facebook Page.

About Ana:

Ana lives just outside Washington DC with her very supportive husband and three rather demanding cats. She loves the ocean, Indian food, Ikea, and cooking. Ana admits to watching too much television and she swears that someday she’s going to learn how to play the guitar resting on the bookshelf in her office.

 

Blog: http://anablaze.blogspot.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AnaBlazeLove

Twitter:@ana_blaze

 

The Year in Review

It's been a challenging year. It started off in mourning and that definitely flavored the rest of it.

 I finally finally finally stopped messing around with the wrong guy. I'm ashamed that it took so long. I'm ashamed that I kept running back. I deserve better and I'm trying to be open to that idea.

Work was good then bad then ok then "Why am I putting up with this garbage!?" then back to slow and steady okayness.

Home is still peaceful. It's almost time for me to start looking for a new home though and that is something I'm not looking forward to. Times change and so do circumstances. I'll get over it.And on with it.

The car is amazingly still running with only minor repairs. I'm crossing my fingers that it stays good for a while longer. I have vague hopes that it'll make it to 100,000 miles.

I've made some new friends. That's always a good thing and getting easier for me to do.

I didn't touch my craft and paint stuff at all until October. Then I painted four in a night. My creativity has finally started to return. Mostly because I'm not scared of what will come out now. As I said the beginning of the year was bad and sad and mad.

I got to visit with family for christmas and that was good and right. I hadn't seen them in years and I did really miss them all. I saw my grandfather, my only grandparent left, and he is starting to fade. I probably won't get another chance to see him and that has been weighing on my head and my heart.

Now the new year has begun. I'm sure it'll be filled with hope and loss and joy and sadness and laughter and tears. I hope the good outweighs the bad. I hope that I can help make it good. With any luck, it'll end up being the best year of my life.

Again, thank you to those who read my blog. I'm glad you want to know me and what goes on in this noggin. I'm sure there is more lunacy and stories and rants to come.





 

The Rules of Secrets

 

I am bad at keeping secrets. Horrible.

Why?

I try to be as open and honest as I can. I don't think it does any good to hide things away. I'll tell most anyone everything that want to know about me.

After all, I only want to be loved for who I am, not loved for who I pretend to be. 

I have many good qualities as well as some not so great ones. It took me a long time to reach the level of self confidence I have. I came to the conclusion that I'm basically good but always human.

Meanwhile some people in my life are very private. I don't get it. Is it fear of rejection? Is it simply prudent?

Keeping things to yourself all the time can't be healthy.

I can keep a secret if I must. If you need me to this is how you need to tell me.

"Kristen. This is not to be shared. Period."

Implied confidences don't always get through my skull. You MUST tell me to keep my trap shut.

I'm not great at thinking before speaking. As most of you know firsthand.  I speak my mind probably more than I should. Thankfully, my friends and family love me regardless.