Hell, Bandaids and Bicycle Crashes

If you’ve heard the Rodney Atkins song “If you’re going through hell” then you know you better run your ass off to get to the other side. RUN FOREST FUN!

“If you’re going through Hell
Keep on going, don’t slow down
If you’re scared, don’t show it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you’re there”.

My thought is, if your going through hell in the first place the struggle is real and you better run your ass off then implement the STOP. DROP. AND ROLL technique because if you made it out of there alive your shit is probably on fire. And just keep going, there is hope on the other side….right? Maybe a rainbow? A rainbow with a leprechaun? A rainbow with a leprechaun and a pot of gold? Nah, I don’t think that sounds right and neither does green beer, that actually sounds pretty gross. What I’m trying to say is, after you get to the finish line of all the hell you’ve been going through there is supposed to be a happy ending. No sir…not that kind, well at least not in this blog! LOL.

It may take time to find your happy HEALED ending and your new beginning. There may be times you regress due to things that RIP THE FUCKING BANDAID OF HEALING right off the bone. But what can you do? Run back through hell, find the devil and kick him the dick for bringing you back to square one? No. That’s just dumb, read the song lyrics again because if you made it out alive the first time that’s #WINNING! Pick yourself back up ONE MORE TIME and start the process all over again. It sucks, but you got this!

OHHHHH…how the bandaid ripping BURNS! It’s like you have the hairiest legs and you let a new student of hair waxing try their technique out on you! Or better yet, the bandaid ripping would be a close comparison to falling off your bike as a kid and completely racking your crotch off on the frame. It’s the bruised black and blue kind, the kind that takes your breath away. And honestly, I don’t give two shits if you’re a chic or a dude getting racked like that will light your parts up for dayzzzzzz. So check out these safety tips and use them for your future well-being:

1. Don’t ride bikes.

2. If you do ride bikes, wear a cup and a helmet.

3. Buy a ton of frozen peas. I hear Hy-vee has them on sale this week.

4. Practice meditation with said peas on your bruises, it turns your mind off and into FROSTBITE concerns! LOL

5. Be careful who you trust with your heart.

6. Do something super uncomfortable. A new job, interviews, new group activities, dance lessons. Whatever is uncomfortable for you. “Just be you, be picky and put yourself out there. What’s the worst that could happen. You make friends.” (JH credit.)

7. Force yourself to laugh and smile, even with people you don’t know and especially when you don’t feel like it. A returned smile and laugh can actually make your day brighter if you give it a chance.

8. Remember, YOU ARE STILL BEAUTIFUL. WANTED. NEEDED. IRREPLACEABLE. There is no one else like you. No matter how many “perfect matches” you see in your head.

9. Keep going, you’re almost to the other side.

STAY CALM…AND FROZEN PEAS ON!

Live. Learn. Rinse. Repeat

TAK

SAME LAME THING!

I’ve heard people make this type of comment about our youth “What is wrong with kids these days?” Uhhh, duh. Let’s start off with one of the obvious issues. MODELING BEHAVIOR. KIDS who make fun of others turn into ADULTS that do the same lame thing. And I believe that parents sometimes model this jerk behavior, and don’t realize what they are doing. Or if they do, they don’t care because they watched the same modeling behavior unfold growing up.

As an adult, I simply can’t wrap my simple little noggin around adults making fun of others but unfortunately just the other night I sat at a table full of adults doing just that. Gross and disgusting.

Let me paint the picture of the event. Inaugural Ball. Beautiful event. Beautiful “looking” people. It was a very cool experience even though I still claim to be a Republican. I’ve shifted over the years to the party of “I really don’t know who or what I am.” As the ceremony came to an end, dinner began, the band started to play and people headed for the dance floor. There was a young lady, I would guess somewhere between 18-20 and she was dancing as the band played. The second I saw her, I smiled. As she was doing something different with zero fear. It seemed like a lyrical type dance. She was smiling and enjoying herself and not being hindered in the least about the opinions of others. She had a confidence that no one at my table shared. That said the “adults” at my table started making comments with twisted facial smirks and the like. My response to this was “At least she’s up there dancing and having a good time.” Which was more than anyone at that table could say.

A few thoughts flooded my mind about these small minded people who were 35+ years of age and still doing exactly what they probably did in high school….JUDGING & MAKING FUN of people who are different.

I thought they must be so insecure about themselves. I wondered if I recorded them, and did a playback how proud they would’ve been of their words and actions.

I thought they needed people with grace in their lives to help with humble modeling behaviors.

I thought they were so clueless. They didn’t know her. They didn’t know who she was or where she comes from and because of my son I always think beyond the “perfect little human box” (which good luck with that box btw, it’s a fairytale) and maybe this girl had a special need, or maybe she loved to express herself with dance or maybe she just loved to dance in general and she was dancing the only way she knew how and she didn’t care who was watching. I LOVED THIS ABOUT HER!

I couldn’t wait to escape the table for the bathroom. I’d rather wait in a 20 minute line alone than sit at that table.

I regret one thing about that night and that was not getting up from the table and dancing with her.

So here’s to the beautiful young girl on the dance floor doing your thing.

KEEP DOING YOU. KEEP DOING WHAT MAKES YOU SMILE. KEEP DOING WHATEVER IT IS THAT MAKES YOU FEEL GOOD AND DON’T EVER LET ANYONE STOP YOU. YOUR SMILE IS CONTAGIOUS. THANK YOU FOR BEING BRAVE. YOU MAKE ME WANT TO BE MORE LIKE YOU. FREE.

xoxoxo

sexy-girl-dancing

Breathe in…Breathe out.

TAK

BECOMING VULNERABLE

COME AT ME BRO!!!! Hands up, fists clenched, maybe a few moves around the ring like my boy “Canelo” ready and waiting for the next punch to my face. Crazy as that sounds, I look at this self defense as being proactive, not negative. Ready to defend and attack before anything has a chance to hit me first. How old am I, right? Ummm, I’m 44 not 14. It doesn’t seem very mature at all, but that’s how I’ve approached life since my Dad walked out the door when I was 5 years old, after he came back and my parents remarried and they divorced again later after my Mom and my Dad’s best friend were busted having an affair. I was young but very aware of what was happening in front of my eyes, and holding a secret like that as a child is a very unhealthy thing. I remember the night my dad finally wised up and came home early that night. What followed is a memory I will never forget.

Being too open and vulnerable allows people to hurt my heart and break my trust. Frankly I’m just not down with that. Last night I watched Will Smith on Instagram and he said “Life is hard, you might get hurt, your heart might get broke, BUT you gotta COMMIT! Don’t hesitate. Go! Commit! You might lose something but you can’t experience the joy that is intended for you in life if you don’t GO!” His words were a KNOCK KNOCK…H-E-L-L-O…Are you in there? right on my brain. This doesn’t only apply to love, it applies to everything in our lives. The reason I avoid being vulnerable is that I fear what I don’t know, and by nature if things are “ok” I don’t like rocking the boat with change so I stay as stale as a bag of chips left unclipped.

I acknowledged out loud to my boyfriend and to my best friend the other day that I needed help. That I felt I had an addiction for the first time in my life. I’ve suffered from A.D.D. my whole freaking life, not really acknowledging it until August 2015 when I accepted a new position as a Paralegal. I wanted to stop wallpapering my office with post-it notes and furthermore I was sick of living my weekends with TO-DO lists that were never completed and trying to have conversations with someone bouncing around 10 subjects in less than a minute. Try to keep up with that! It’s tough! So I began medication and it has been a whirlwind of clarity and a fantastic ride, but it has also had negative side effects such as anxiety, mood swings, hair loss, etc. I tried to stop taking the medication this summer and that lasted about 2 weeks. FAIL. I never told anyone that I started taking it again, because I felt like such a loser. I felt like I had to keep it a secret because I was weak. The moment I shared that I felt I couldn’t manage life without it and I needed human help, I became vulnerable. How? I asked for help. I asked for patience. I put it out there that I needed someone.

That day, my fists were down, but I felt strong in my vulnerability. GO…COMMIT…be vulnerable.

Inhale…Exhale…

Vulnerable

TAK

FORGET IT! YEAH, YOU READ THAT RIGHT!

STOP REMEMBERING THE SHIT THAT DOESN’T SERVE YOU. Insert my best Italian “FORGET ABOUT IT” right here. If I had a dollar for every post-it note or journal note on my phone used to remind myself of “something” I need to do or not forget, I WOULD BE FREAKING RICH AS SHIT $$$$$$ CHA-CHING! Wait, shit isn’t rich is it? Whateve…you get my point.

This ridiculous topic of choice today is the feeling that I need to remember every little thing that happens in my life. Good and bad. Who has time for that? Clearly me if I could physically wallpaper a room with all the flipping post-it notes I have surrounding me at work and home.

Recently my goal driven boyfriend and I completed the monster task of cleaning out my mother’s home. She passed in February 2015. The hoarding alone took (2) 40′ dumpsters and a few crazy months of work to flip the home for sale. I realized before the project started that I would be extremely overwhelmed by so many different emotions. It was both mentally and physically exhausting. I needed to take in every memory good and bad that came with this task. Those moments and memories have made me who I am – past and present. We started at the beginning of April and the final work was completed on June 24, 2018, on the market the same day and an offer the next day. #WIN

I struggled with the loss of my Mom and denial of that favored me. There were so many memories that brought anger and tears as well as laughter and smiles. The one thing I learned from this experience by reliving and remembering so many memories is that I never wished I was little again. “Oh there are so many wonderful memories in this house, I loved being a kid, I sure wish I was 5 years old” NO…NO FUCKING WAY. WOW…what does that say about the childhood fun? Tons. Maybe, and that’s a HUGE maybe, I’d crank back time to say, 10 or 11 years old. Old enough to make some different choices in my life for my future self, but not young enough to go through some of the ups and downs that I’ve put out of my mind. Being forced to spend this much time at my childhood home helped heal my soul and in some ways say goodbye to her. I know she would be very proud of what we accomplished.

When I think about all the time spent on memories of the past (even if that past is last week or yesterday) I could slap myself. Yet I’ve caught myself over the past few days doing the same thing. Especially the memories that are not worth spending precious time on or holding on to negative memories that only bring negative thoughts into my mind. I wrote the following note to myself just now. #keepinitclassy

Dear Jack-Ass Self,

If you can’t remember the shit clutter without journal notes or post-it notes…IT MUST NOT BE WORTH REMEMBERING.
Get a clue & you’re welcome!

Yours truly,
Jack-Ass Self

Today, with my favorite 5 second rule (I love Mel Robbins, “The 5 Second Rule”) I’ve decided to PURGE notes and screenshots from my phone that do not serve me in a positive way. If I feel the need to write down bad shit or shit memories and the good shit or amazing shit is not WINNING in my life at least 90% of the time then HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM. This pattern of habit needs to evolve and not by writing more notes or keeping more negative things to remember. If it doesn’t serve me in a positive way, it’s time to say goodbye. It’s time to make room in my MIND and free up my TIME for the things WORTH remembering.

I still love post-it notes btw, but they will be used for store lists and maybe a cute little note to myself that says “Don’t be a dick by keeping track of stupid shit that doesn’t serve you!”

Inhale…Exhale…

TAK

Don't be a dick

My life is a bit of a shit show and it’s okay.

There are days when I wake up and automatically feel like a total and complete badass. Then there are the days I wake and think, please please please let me wake up again, hit restart and make this shit show disappear. Yep, call me a dream chaser, because that doesn’t happen. EVER. I can choose to struggle with the day or I can embrace the shit show for what it is and make it positive. This morning in the shower, which is like my meditation time to myself, no kids, no thinking, no drama, and I can hear my music playing through my cell phone being interrupted over and over again with work emails, regular emails, texts, notifications etc. What do I do? I yell at my phone like it’s the phones fault for doing its job. It only reiterates to me, I need to be in therapy once again.

I think the main reason I feel overwhelmed by life sometimes, is because I don’t prioritize the crazy train. In fact I know that’s the issue. There’s a ton going on in my life as with most people. Work, training in the gym, raising good kids, kids and school, dealing with an idiot ex-husband who makes everything under the sun difficult, trying to learn BJJ, maintaining good relationships and friendships, pursuing passions, trying to establish boundaries in my life I’ve never had and the other 50 billion other things I want to accomplish that never get checked off the list.

Every whiney piece of me, wants to cry out “what about me?” “I need to be the priority, I need to be happy. If I’m not happy how can I be a good mom, or a good blah blah blah”. Frankly I caught myself saying that in my head a few weeks ago, circling the wagons with the same round and round logic of “Hey jackass, you are going to get your shit in order starting tomorrow, you are the priority and everything else will fall into place. You’ve done it before, you can do it again.” But then I thought no. No, I will not get my shit together. Why not? Because I just won’t. THAT IS THE REALITY. Not in this moment of time. And guess what, for the first time EVER, that’s ok. #REBEL

I have created so much additional pressure trying to stay in the same previous pattern priorities that I haven’t allowed myself to evolve, which has denied me the ability to come to terms with the fact that IT IS OKAY to just be. Stop with the countdowns for a minute. Stop with the pressure to “get on track”. Stop with the negative talk to myself that I need to be this or that. JUST STOP. JUST BE. It really is okay. Inhale…Exhale…

LET IT GO…(kinda like Elsa)

Six years ago I woke up and thought to myself “I never want to feel this way again!” Six years later I’m finally able to come to terms with INHALING the good shit and EXHALING the bullshit. I also crave PURPOSE, and I’ll be honest I am a strange flavor of purpose. I’m a mother of two wonderful kids with one being diagnosed OCD/Tourette’s/Neuro Difficulties, IFBB Professional Athlete, Paralegal by day, and at times, let’s be real, I’m a roller coaster of bat shit crazy. The one thing I am not, is available. Positive K sang it best…”I got a man.”

I find myself to be a random bouncing ball with goals on fire and ideas of change. The one thing I know without a doubt is, I want more in life. I don’t necessarily want more material things. I want and need PURPOSE. Purpose of all kind. I could be wrong, in fact there’s probably a good chance of that but regardless I feel if I can somehow help other humans by sharing some of my life experiences, I’ve found purpose.

LET IT GO… I have always been the kind of person who hangs on to STUFF. Stuff can be mental in my head or maybe material junk. For example, my father gave me a cheap ass laundry basket for Christmas one year that I cared nothing about, but when my father died that cheap ass laundry basket suddenly became gold. One day my ex-husband launched it down the stairs and it cracked. I remember going nuts and crying like it was the end of the world. Why? Because my dad gave it to me and he was now dead. He would never be able to buy me a cheap ass anything ever again. My thoughts today, why give a shit, let alone two shits. It was a damn dollar tree basket. He should have made more real memories with me, rather than me hanging on to this basket. But I was young, stupid and apparently I couldn’t wait to start investing in Botox for the many wrinkles that all this little STUFF would cause in the coming years. Looking back now, I should have let so many things go in my past.

Today, I’m 44 years old and it has literally taken me years to learn how to inhale the good shit and exhale the bullshit. Why do we burden ourselves with so much useless drama? It gives me anxiety, a shit ton of wrinkles and frankly it just blows. #lifesucker. For years I’ve heard “You need to experience failure to know success” or “You must have storms to appreciate the rainbows”. Blah blah blah. Whatever. I’m not trying to pop the positive train balloons here and while I do appreciate success and rainbows I would rather tell the bullshit to fuck off because it’s a waste of time and the way I see it, the clock is ticking. The quicker I end useless drama, insecurities and bullshit, the more value I’m adding back into my life. Oh did I mention joy? That too.

I tested out my theory a few weeks ago by literally writing out a note that said I’m “breaking up” with the bullshit that was stealing my joy. And guess what? So far those bastards haven’t texted, called or reached out. YES!!! That’s the break-up we all want to have. And trust me, I don’t miss it one bit.

Yeah, it’s true, it took me 44 years to join the “no fucks given” club. Better late than never but it still feels like a VICTORY to me. Do yourself a favor and let it go…just like that super annoying Elsa and start living life. Inhale…Exhale….

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

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