I have not felt a thing for weeks.
But getting up and going to work on time
I did what needed to be done, then rushed home.
And even the main streets, those ancient charmers,
Failed to amuse me, and the fight between
The upstairs couple was nothing but loud noise.
None of it touched me, except as an irritation,
And though I knew I could stop
And enjoy if I wanted to
The karate excitement and the crowd
That often gathers in front of funeral homes,
I denied myself these dependable pleasures,
The tricks of anti-depression
That had taken me so long to learn,
By now worn smooth with use, like bowling alleys in my soul.
And certain records that one can’t hear without
Breaking into a smile, I refused to listen to
In order to find out what it would be like
To be cleansed of enthusiasm,
And to learn to honor my emptiness,
My indifference, myself at zero degrees.

More than any desire to indulge the numbness I wanted to be free of the bullying urge to feel, Or to care, or to sympathize. I have always dreaded admitting I was unfeeling From the time my father called me ‘a cold fish,’ And I thought he might be right, at nine years old And ever since I have run around convincing everyone What a passionate, sympathetic person I am.

I would have said no poetry can come From a lack of enthusiasm; yet how much of my life, Of anyone’s life, is spent in neutral gear? The economics of emotions demand it. Those rare intensities of love and anguish Are cheapened when you swamp them with souped-up ebulliences, A professional liveliness that wears so thin. There must be a poetry for that other state When I am feeling precisely nothing, there must Be an interesting way to write about it. There are continents of numbness to discover If I could have the patience or the courage.

But supposing numbness were only a disguised disappointment? A veil for anger? Then it would have no right to attention In and of itself, and one would always have to push on, Push on, to the real source of the trouble— Which means, back to melodrama. Is the neutral state a cover for unhappiness, Or do I make myself impatient and unhappy To avoid my basic nature, which is passive and low-key? And if I knew the answer, Would it make any difference in my life? At bottom I feel something stubborn as ice fields, Like sorrow or endurance, propelling me.

–Phillip Lopate

My Tears Do Not Mean I Am Weak

Do not equate my tears with weakness.

The tears equate to the screams that occur in my head daily.

The yelling of obscenities I tell myself I am.

The tears are little verbal jabs that I tell myself.

Jabs that tell me I am worthless and pointless.


The tears are physical punches of anger that I pass out to all those that made them occur.

The tears are my apologies to myself for being……simply…….myself.

The tears are my anxiety laughing at me.

Cackling at the ability for me to look weak to those around me.

Smiling that I am not strong enough to push through it.

Laughing at my attempts to façade my life to those around me.


Similarly, the cuts provide strength and release.

A false sense of strength, but strength nonetheless.

The viral development that forms within me is released so that I can get back to being stronger.

That is what I tell myself, at least. Every time.


Crimson allows me to breathe deeply and feel the cleanse of my thoughts.

Released. Purged. Absolution.

The fog lifts and the tears dry just as quickly as they formed within my eyes.


So do not equate anything weak about me as such.

Because eventually, eventually, my strength will re-appear.


These past few weeks have been a super struggle. I am exhausted. I am emotional. All I want to do is sleep and cry. There are the few moments within the days that are good. But, a majority of them are just shit. I do not remember the last time I had such a struggle to get out of a funk. I do not want to go to the gym. I do not want to go to work. I do not even want to speak to people. I just want to hide any way possible.

Taking lots of breaths and just kind of letting my emotions happen is the best way I can figure I can get out of this. I know holding things in will only eventually make me explode, which just cannot occur.

I am disliking my job more and more every day and just wish I could stop all things around me.

I need a breath.

I need a day.

I need some time where I do not have to answer questions, about anything, for 24 hours. JUST. STOP. TALKING. TO. ME! I can’t even get a word in edgewise to myself in my thoughts.

I am overwhelmed.

I am lost.

I am anxious.

I just want to see where I went so I can get back to my normal.

Unfortunately, there is absolutely no light at the end of the tunnel.

Dear Chem Imbalance……..You Need to Vacate the Premises.




Can you please just get your invasion over with?

I get that you want to remind me of your being within my brain.

Believe me…..I have not forgotten you.

But is it completely necessary to overstay your reminding welcome?

I got things I need to be prepared for, man.

Life, you know, that thing that you always want me to no longer focus on?

Well, fact is, I kinda like it sometimes.

I kinda like participating in it.

I got goals. Plans. Believe it or not, even people.

So, if there is any way you could vacate my mind and allow those happy chems to return

I would appreciate it.

No worries, I still know plan on following.

Just keep your sad shit at a distance, will ya?

canstockphoto14539757 Smaller

We Need to Talk…..You Need to Do You, Baby!



Finding your groove can be difficult. Your body does not agree with your plans. Your brain boycotts its job to move and follow through. And then there are the people. You know who I mean. The people that question what you’re doing. Why you’re doing it. What is the point?

“That is all you eat?”

“You work out how much?”

“You do what for a living?”

“How can you handle all of that?”

“Are you crazy? You must be, cause I could never do all of that.”

Well that’s good. Cause that is you, not me.

Fact is, we owe no explanations to anyone. Especially those that question our life choices. So, for the sake of this post, let me set something straight…….

I barely sleep.

I get up between 3:00am and 3:30am every workday morning.

I go to the gym from 4:00am-5:30am

I then do CrossFit from 6:00am-7:00am

Then I go to work until 5:00pm (sometimes later). My job is stressful. Emotionally draining. But overall very gratifying when everything works out well.

After work I go home (although sometimes I go running with friends). Then it is the fur kids’ time with me. Laundry, housecleaning, yard work, etc.

I get to bed around 9:30pm-10:00pm. Then produce a series of 20 minutes naps throughout the night before I start all over again.

The weekends involve Roller Derby, races, triathlons, the gym, yoga, grocery, more house cleaning, a movie, and so on.

School is done, so no more homework and thesis papers to develop throughout the week and weekend.


Now, still with me? You tired from it all yet? Me too. But I am allowed to be tired from it all. BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE AND MY CHOICES.

Mixed in there are pet sitting for some people that need it, meal prepping for the work week, and an all- around need to actually relax.

I know what you’re thinking……

“Ummm, when is the relaxing?” For me, it is at the gym, at CrossFit, and sometimes at Al-Anon meetings so I can decompress from my job and continue to understand and develop skills to help my clients. But all that is irrelevant….TO YOU. Why………. BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE AND MY CHOICES.


So think about how you respond to people who make these choices. Are they asking you to participate in their crazy life? If not, how about you simply support their endeavors. Their choices. Instead of criticizing them.

I know my life is crazy and dramatic. I will be the first to admit it. Which is why it is okay for ME to talk about my life as crazy. Fact: I make it work. I am an animal of routine. Of schedules. I am learning to say “NO” to some things that would overwhelm me……but if I say “yes” it is because I like it. I want to do it.

There will always be critics. Always be those that want to tell you how bad “xyz” is for you. But remember, those people have their own lives too. So take their criticism with a grain of salt (unless you can tell them to fuck right off), and continue to do you. Because there are people here for you. There are people that support you. That circle may be small, but it is there. And if someone is not worthy of being in that circle…..turn and walk away.

So if you need some support from me…….I am here. Much Love.

Why We All Should Brag (but especially WOMEN)

So, I just read this interesting post regarding Megan Rapinoe and some comments that were made about her “loving herself” (presumably too much in a braggy way) and I got kind of frustrated. The link below is a fabulous response to this assumed insult (made by none other than Piers Morgan) and I think it represents a good understanding of why it is important for women to let those around them know that they are proud of their accomplishments.

In a world where, still in 2019, it is the basic understood custom of a”woman needing a man” and a “woman being their for her man” as what is, we as a society need to realize that is BULLSHIT.

Fact: Women don’t need men. Likewise, men don’t need women. Does it help having each other? Sure. Is it a requirement? No.

Fact: Women can, in fact, perform the same actions as men if we choose to do so. And, aside from the whole giving birth aspect, this is also true for men being able to do that of women.

Men and women are treated differently, paid differently, expect different things of each other, and honestly, do we need this drama on top of the other drama we have in the world at this time?

Men are expected to be strong and stoic; women to be weak and over-emotional. I have attached another link to a YouTube video that I had watched of men reading comments that were written about female sports writers. The women were aware of what the comments said, but the men (those reading the comments to the women aloud) were unaware until they were to read them. Why do people have to be at a level of cruelty because they do not like the fact that a woman writes about sports. That a women interviews football players. Why is this something that is seen as uncouth in a man’s world?

Men can brag about what they can accomplish and it is “manly”. Women brag about their accomplishments and it is “cocky”. Just brag about your shit people, and let it be what it is!

I bought my own home at 24 years old.

I have an Associate Degree, a Bachelor’s Degree, a Master’s Degree, and am working on a second one.

I am State Certified to perform substance use assessments and perform substance use counseling.

I built a treatment court program from the ground up, and run the entire thing, basically, on my own. AND got the program certified by the state as a valid and productive program.


Own it, people! You work hard at something and someone recognizes it, never call it “little”.


Also, make sure to read this quick article below.

Link re: Piers Morgan comments on Meghan Rapinoe



Drugs are Quick….or Why it is important for me to remember my meds……

No one likes taking medication. Whether it is one pill daily or multiple pills daily, no one enjoys adding yet another reminder of something into their day. Especially if you are Type A, like myself, once something new needs to be added, you then have to make sure everything else is still good with the “new addition”.

And sometimes it is okay of people don’t remember to take their meds, or if they are on a schedule of taking them only as needed. But my meds are not like this. Mine are daily necessities. Not only for daily function, but also for what I like to refer to as “everyone else’s safety that is around me”.

Weekends are hard. Those days are the two days of the week I do not have a consistent routine and schedule. And the days I do not take them, boy can I feel it. I am sooooo lazy. All I want to do is sleep. All. Day. Now, I know those of you that know me well will say that I should take advantage of it as I rarely sleep during the week as it is, but back to that Type A personality thing…….I could feel fine sleeping the day away, and then, come night time be up thinking (what follows is an actual running brain thought):

“about how fucking lazy my fat ass was all fucking day when I could have done all these activities and overall felt better about myself and my fitness goals, but noooo, I decided that I wanted to just sleep and sleep and now I can’t get any extra workouts or other stuff in because tomorrow is work and that schedule is limited and always full and now I gotta wait until next weekend where I can try this over again and now I need to make sure that I meal prep so I don’t eat like shit tomorrow and then just allow that to follow through the whole week and continue this until it all starts over again because I was a fucking idiot and did not do what I needed to do and DAMNIT WHY DID I NOT TAKE MY MEDS!!!!!!!!!”

So yeah, drugs are quick and wonderful for me, when I remember them. But the struggle is real, people, it is real. 

Much love……..A