I sat in that bus, on my way to work, on my way to make a living and I saw you. I have no idea who you are, your name or age; but I know you are someone’s son, someone’s friend, and yet there you are, dying on the street. One person, one out of the dozens all around you – including me – stopped to help you. I sometimes wish I was the type of person to bang on bus doors, to cause a scene, to act in impulse, but I’m not, and I’m sorry. I should have ran to help him, help you. I watched from that seat on the bus as he checked for your pulse, but your skin was so grey I doubt he found one. No one else even seemed to care, I looked around the bus to see if anyone else felt the way I did, and not one person looked phased by the idea that you were dying. There were 5 other people on the side walk where your body laid and they didn’t do anything but stare and walk away. I tried so hard to hold it together, to act the way everyone else did, but I couldn’t. I cried for you, I cried because I know something happened to bring you to where you were, I cried because no one wants to get involved, no one wants to help. No one sees that you are just a kid with serious demons, just a person who struggles with memories of the past. You are so much more then an addict, you are so much more than a junkie, you are a human; you are here for a reason, you matter. It’s not okay, none of it. It’s not okay that someone or something hurt you to the point where you had to find a way to escape your pain. It’s not okay that you ended up addicted to a drug that ruined your life, it’s not okay that you have to use to live. It’s not okay that a drug dealer is making money off your addiction, or that they are cutting drugs with poison. It’s not okay that society labels you, but doesn’t help you. It’s not okay that you died. It’s not okay that people didn’t stop. None of this okay, none of it is acceptable. We need to stop building giant shopping malls, and invest in mental health, in better schools, in affordable homes, in people’s lives. My only hope is that you are now feee of pain. God has you in his arms now, along with all the other human souls that died because of greedy drug dealers, and shitty people. Society, you disgust me.


Remember in elementary school how they would ask everyone what the wanted to be when they grew up, and we’d whole heartily exclaim that we wanted to be astronauts, lawyers, doctors, ballerinas, cowboys, and Princess’. We’d draw pictures of our future lives and proudly hang them up for the rest of the world to see, we’d dream of the day when we would be grown ups and have careers, and homes, and families.

I remember being a child and thinking that I could not wait for the day that I was an adult, when I could do what I want and do it whenever I chose. Little me never understood that you needed money to do things, and that for you to make money, you must work. I use to think as an adult I would have the ability to stand up for myself, that no one could tell me what I could or could not do, I would not have to listen to other people’s rules, or cower in fear that I would be punished. I never feared adults as a child, I respected my elders and worried about disappointing them, but I never feared adults the way I fear them now. I fear the “women” I work with because their catty remarks and unkind gossip is enough to leave me broken and crying by the end of a week, I fear the repercussion of speaking out against the way things are being taken care of at work, I fear that by speaking “out of turn” I will, without questioning, be out of a job. I fear that I will never be enough for the people that are ranked above me.

As a child, I use to dream of being a mother; of taking care of my home and children, while my husband was working hard for us. I dreamed about being a housewife. Its less disheartening to learn that your childhood career isn’t your right fit, for who do we know that grew up to be an astronaut or a Princess? But, a dream to be a mom and a wife is something that comes so easily to others, and for that dream to be crushed, to surpass your own ‘time line” you conducted in your head, is something that can easily destroy you.

I sit here trying to rack my brain, trying to figure out what I want to go in debt to be. People keep asking me if what I’m going to go to college for because being a sales associate is not what I ever wanted or dreamed to be – would you like a gift receipt feels like my own “would you like fries with that” and its equally demeaning. I usually shrug my shoulders when someone asks what I “want to be”, not because I’m trying to be rude, but because I don’t know. Because what I want to do with my life doesn’t come from a university or college, although it almost should, I would rather stay up all night with a sick baby, than stay up all night cramming for a midterm, and I would rather be exhausted from cleaning my house, and caring for my children than be emotionally drained from work. But without the ability to trust anyone, including myself, how do I expect to fall in love and be a wife and a mom?


My life is at a point, a low point, where it feels like nothing will ever get better, I’m angry, hurt, and ready to throw in the towel. I’m angry at the world, at the fact that I tried so hard to be a good person, to help others, and believed that maybe people would do the same to and for me. I’m angry because for years I asked God for strength and healing, only to come to the sobering realization that there isn’t a man above the clouds that somehow hears our silent prayers. He did not heal me when my grandma passed away, or walked beside me the night I was sexually assualted. He didn’t cure my dad, or help us cope, and he stole my best friend. If he’s the one who created life and death, why didn’t he help Jayda, why didn’t he listen to my cries and healed her? Where are these so called miracles? I went to church and Sunday school as a kid, because I wanted to. I talk to god, read the Bible, I believed. I changed my life, all in hopes that this imaginary person would heal me and yet all I’ve received is pain. I’m hurting, between the deafening loneliness that seems to surround me, the realization that I have no true friends, and the fact that I seem to only be enough for my family when I’m doing things for them. Im hurting because no matter what I do it never seems to be enough; Enough for me, enough for anyone. 

And I know none of this is new, but nothing can change if nothing changes, and I don’t even know where or how to change. 

I wish I knew what drove these people who rise up from the flames, what lies in them that allows them to take large leaps of faith, or courage and keep going. Maybe its something they’ve found, maybe they had to hit their lowest point in order to find a way to reach their highs; maybe the universe thinks I haven’t hit my bottom; or maybe subconsciously I don’t think I’ve hit my bottom. I don’t even know what my bottom is.. I feel like I’ve hit bottom so many times already.

I think, or rather maybe I’ve always know, it’s because I still hold on to the possibility that he might one day decide to love me.

Although I know that will never happen


I know that by holding on to this made up fairy tale I’m sabotaging a love that could be waiting for me out there. I compare everyone to him, I punish other people because of his words, I assume that everyone feels, thinks, and acts like him; I’m smarter than that though, smart enough to know that not all men are the same, not all men are him. Its difficult for me not to, though, after years of telling myself that he was right and that I was not enough for anyone, it kinda sticks with you, you know? I don’t know why I can’t just cut him out of my life like I have so many people, but I’m tired of hearing about other girls, I’m tired of always being the friend, i’m tired of being reminded that I can’t have the only guy I ever held on to for so long, I’m tired of doing this, 10 years is to long..  I’m just so tired of it all.. 

I need to reevaluate my priorities, my needs, my own happiness and maybe reach within myself and find a way to rise from this sorrow I’ve been wallowing in for far to long.

“From the end of the earth I will cry to You, When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”

– ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭61:2‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

(even though I’m having a hard time believing in God.)

 Until Next time xoxox



Dear 2015.

You are ending just as you started, in a flash. I cannot believe we are going into the first week of 2016 in a few days, that a new year is already almost among us.

I can’t say you were my favorite, that you weren’t one of the worst years of my life, but I can say you taught me a lot about life, about myself and the sobering fact that tomorrow is never promised. When you started, in the deepest parts of my soul I knew you would take my dad and that this was gonna be a dreadful year. That you were going to throw things at me, things I would and would not be able to deal with; and of course that’s exactly what you d4630fa22ebc4f95d679fde53cf60648d.jpgid. However You allowed me to grow, and to learn and prosper. You gave me the chance to excel in a position that would lead to a promotion. You showed me that people, even the least approachable, can surprise you in good ways. That you can find friendship and comfort in the least likely places. You discovered the bravery I forgot I had, the courage to speak up about things I use to keep to myself. You helped me heal yesterday’s pain, and you taught me to forgive (Well to an extent, I’ll never forgive my dads egg donor). You showed me that true friendships last, even if you don’t speak often. That people are more caring then my anxious mind let me believe. You’ve taught me that people will reach out to you in times of need, even after years without contact. You allowed me to discover the true colors of the people I looked at through rose colored lenses. You have been a year that I will never forget, not just because you took my dad but because of everything you taught me, everything that came out of this year and everything that helped me grow. I’ll never want to live this year over, but I won’t ever suppress the memories either.


I haven’t written in a while mainly because these past few weeks have been difficult. Christmas, the beginning of a new year and dealing with depression and anxiety that would kill me if I gave it the power to. However, I’ve decided that I need to escape from this funk I am in. A few months ago I wrote a post titled 25 things I’ve learned from life in light of my 25th birthday. 2015 has been a year of change and growth for many people including my self, and because of this I am going to write about 5 things 2015 has opened my eyes too.


  1. Life doesn’t follow your plan – We go through life with a plan, a made up to-do list that we think will fall gracefully into place because we want it to. This doesn’t happen, Life has its own agenda it will not follow a set plan, it will not be predictable and of course it will throw you off course.  While this is insanely hard to deal with, it will teach you something eventually.
  2. It’s okay to show emotions – People aren’t able to read your mind and often just want to help. By expressing what you feel you will be astonished at how much better and less alone you feel.
  3. You are not indestructible – You are just a fragile being in a world of hurricanes and natural disasters. You will be thrown and stepped on, you will acquire bruises and scars and hopefully you will live through all the terror the world throws at you.de0c761fa2e90c5ef00dfc2eb3aee61a.jpg
  4. The people who you love the most have the power to hurt you the most – Read that again, The people who you love the most have the power to hurt you the most. The people you give your heart to, the ones that know you would bend over backwards for them will acquire the power to break you. Without warning, and sometimes without them knowing they will rip your heart into 10,000 pieces. Don’t become cold because of this. Learn to be selective with your heart, with your love.
  5. And lastly; Never, ever take a single person or day for granted – We are only given a certain number of days, a life with numbered pages; everyone’s book ends at different times and sometimes it ends in a “cliff hanger”. Remember this because although your days are also numbered, and your book may be nearing its end someone you love and care about could be one chapter closer to the end. You will kick yourself, everyday for not spending more time enjoying them, enjoying the story of your life, the story of their lives. I know I do, I wasn’t around enough to make lasting memories with my dad, I allowed my anxiety and depression to steal so many pages of my story and I hate it. So Please, Never take anything for granted. Be thankful for your lows and highs, be thankful for each sunrise and feel blessed that you are able to greet the moon as the sun sets.





My hope for this new year is to become the person I want to be, the person I was destined to be. I know I’ve said that many times before, and every time I disappoint myself and retreat back into my old destructive ways but this time I hope I’ll have the courage to see it through.



Happy New Year Everyone, and I hope your dreams come true this year.



Change can be scary. 

‘The bad news is, your choices and intentions, some people and places, those nights spent awake and all you’ve done, can lead you to the bottom of the pit. The good news is this wouldn’t be the first time someone’s crawled, tooth and nail, out of hell.’

I, now, know nothing is permanent, nothing stays the same; no matter how hard we wish, hope or dream. tumblr_mezu7x36r01rh85cao1_500.gif

I think, while its quite late for this realization, I am finally understanding that life is this never ending, never predictable, never planned lesson. We have to experience pain, depression, change and hardships in order to grow as a person. Like an addict that hits rock bottom before asking for help; I feel as though I have fallen as well. I’ve lived – stayed – in the past for far to long, a choice that is killing me slowly, a choice I made. I have known the same people, same places. I have relived the same days over and over. I have wallowed in the same self-pity, the same hardships that happened many moons ago, and yet I allow them to continue to beat me down. I have kept the same feelings towards certain people, held grudges that aren’t helping me, nor effecting them. I have been through things that should help me grow, but sadly I would rather let them fester and become infected.

I have allowed myself to become a prisoner to feelings that I don’t even really believe in anymore, nor do I feel the way my mind makes me think I do. I allowed myself to believe I am comfortable being alone, that I am holding out for someone who is never going to be mine. I have, for far to
long, been obsessed with the idea of one person, one life, one name, one dream. But sometimes we need to grow and learn that a dream is just a sugar coated, rose colored nightmare that will rip us apart if we let it. I am merely a pawn in this game of life, my wants, my needs are not going to be granted just because I cry, scream or get angry about it. I am tumblr_mbp4633Vev1qlccb8o1_500.pngthe only person, in a interpersonal selfish way, that will give me the things I desire or need.

I cannot go on with life expressing how sorry I feel for myself, for the things that life has tested me with. Yes these things, some anyways, require my attention, my sadness, my emotions but not in the way that I have been allowing these things to rule my life. Yes, I have been hurt, I have insecurities that eat me alive, and I have expectations but who hasn’t, who doesn’t? We all have our shortcomings; things that make us scared or unsure, things we wish we could change and things we keep buried in the deepest parts of ourselves. We aren’t broken or different because of these things, it is human, it is the way the world teaches us and it’s the things that help us. I have so much life to experience, so many hardships and glory to go through and I cant let the things of my pass hold me back any longer.

2016, the rest of 2015, I am going to resist the urge to revert back to the past as I always do, instead I will marvel in the present, look forward to the future and learn from the past. I’m going to throw away my “plan” of how my life was suppose to be. I’m going to change, change for no one but me.


My insecurities could eat me alive

I have been, and I think I always will be an insecure person. I always feel judged, which is a part of my social anxiety, I have this over powering feeling that I’ll never be good enough, or as pretty as other females my age. 

These worries, these insecurities make me so cut off from relationships because I’m positive he could and will find someone better then me. My anxiety makes me over think everything and my depression makes me moody and even more cut off. 


I haven’t wrote in a while cause I hate where I am emotionally. 

I feel like all I do is repeat myself, my worries seem so minimal when I think of what the people on the other side of the world must be going through. Yet every little thing sets me off, but not into anger but sadness. How can I even begin to live a life, heal, when I can’t follow a schedule because my hours at work change? How can I even think about putting myself first when I have things and people that come before me because they are more emotionally distressed then I am? How do I break down my walls in order to be happy when I built my walls so high and thick even the deepest love can’t seem to penetrate them. 

My life changed a lot when I was 14-16, and I feel like I ended up frozen in that time, in those feelings. It’s been over 10 years of being afraid to love, afraid of that broken hearted feeling. My grandma dying, my dad getting sick and my ex coming out all happened so closely together that I didn’t have the time to grieve each thing individually and I think that’s a huge reason why I’m so gaurded. When my dad was diagnosed with ALS the guy who said he “loved me” was no where to be found. When my grandma died he wasn’t around, I found comfort in my guy friends instead of someone I gave the most personal thing you could ever give someone. How could he claim he loved me, give me a promise ring, allow me to become the most vulneralable I’ve ever been just to come out and tell me he’s always known. I understand that coming out is hard, and 11 years ago it was even harder but he was the one who persuaded the entire relationship; and then cheated on me with men. Risked my health by engaging in anal sex and then having unprotected sex with me. It’s not even him being gay that bothers me, it was that he was never honest with me. He was never there when I needed him the most and yes I understand love when your a teenager and love when your an adult is different, but in my city most of the guys never really grew up. My pain was disregarded and made fun of by teachers and other students at school, the pain I was going through at home, not having my grandma anymore, watching my dad drop things and get more and more frustrated killed me but because all people saw was him being gay those things didn’t matter. 

No one was there for me when my world was falling apart, I was trapped in my own hell. I was scared to tell anyone anything because I told people one thing and the next thing I knew it was all over the school.

A year and a half later in the middle of the night I was touched, his hard penis pressing up against my back, and no one believed me. I asked for it, I lead him on. I was blacked out drunk for the first time in my entire life, and if I had been leading him on I wouldn’t have grabbed my friends hand to wake her up for help. I wouldn’t of told him no and pushed his hand away. I wouldn’t be forever tormented by the smell of beer. 

In what world would I want to trust someone or be vulnerable when everytime I was, I was hurt. 

How am I suppose to move on from that? Everyone who promised to be there for me, told me they loved me has walked away, lied or betrayed me in some sort of way. 

Because you are not good enough, Donna. 

All these things and everything since then has turned me into someone I hate I can’t look in a mirror at myself without noticing everything wrong with me. My teeth are over lapped and not white enough, the bridge of my nose has a bump that needs to be removed, my eyes have dark bag underneath them, my breasts aren’t as perky as I wish they were. I could go on forever. 

I’m not blaming them completely though even though it seems like I am. If I didn’t make stupid decisions like thinking I was mature enough at barely fourteen to have sex and to continue to drink after knowing I was already intoxicated I would have never been in the position to be hurt. 

I wish, every single day, that I will be able to use the pain of the past to strengthen me and not pull me deeper into this angry place; this depression. That I will find a man, or rather have a man come into my life that shows me that not all men are like the ones I’ve encountered and that I’ll open my heart to the possibility of loving someone other then my family (and my dogs).

But who knows how long that’ll take. 

I’m sorry for the poor quality of writing today, I can’t find the motivation to form proper sentences or use the correct terminology/adjectives.  

Kinda angry today PT.2

You just need to move somewhere with a bunch of religious people, they’ll have the same mind set

– my mom. 
Having morals doesn’t mean you have to be religious. Being religious doesn’t mean you have morals. 

The most talked about religious family; the duggars, have preached and praised God on TV for years only for their son to be exposed as not only an adulteress but as someone who sexually assaulted his sisters and a family friend. People that believe in God, people in my own family that attend church, have less strict morals then I do and I haven’t attended a church service in over a decade. 

I’m not saying I don’t believe in something, some bible verses do provide me with comfort especially lately, but I don’t believe to be holier then thou, I don’t think the morals I have are unreasonable. 

Women shouldn’t sleep around, parents of young children shouldn’t do drugs recreationally, and people who abuse drugs don’t deserve the care and attention they get. I understand we are all humans, we have needs, but every man you meet doesn’t need to meet your vagina ladies. A man that doesn’t respect you enough to wait isn’t a man that deserves to be inside you. As rude as that sounds we need to protect our bodies, the way we are built we literally let someone put a part of their body inside of ours. Shouldn’t we know, trust and feel respected before allowing a man that type of privilege? Men should respect themselves too, they need to know that a woman that gives it up easy gives it to many other guys. That a part of your body will be inside a woman that has been with more guys then years she’s been alive. 

Even with HIV and AIDS being “treatable” now why would you want to chance it? Why would you want to have to get sti/std tests multiple times within your life? Why has it become the norm to have 1-5 children with different partners? That isn’t how I believe life should be lived. I’m not saying be like the duggars, no touching until marriage but we need to pace ourselves; teach our sons and daughters to respect themselves and their partners to wait until they’re both emotionally ready. 

Recently in my city a spike of fentanyl over doses have occurred because dealers have been cutting/lacing street drugs with it. Although I do feel for the families that lost their loved ones I do not believe the people that lost their lives deserve the sympathy or attention they are getting. They injected, smoked, popped or snorted the drug no one forced them to do it. Why would you put something your body that comes from someone you don’t know. 

My biggest thing is why don’t we respect our bodies enough to NOT put things the came from or belong to people we barely know.

Why is a person that overdosed on a street drug important enough to publicly mourn? We have so many more important things we should be focusing on. In my city especially, drug addicts and homeless people are encouraged to use the resources available which varies from shelters to needle exchanges yet they still chose to live on the streets, in the bush, because they do not like rules. 

And before I get ANY hate two of my uncles are addicted to hard drugs and live on the streets and no matter what we do for them they won’t take help. 

My best friends house got trashed by a girl addicted to herion, which he did not know, that was renting a room in his and his roommates house. They lost everything including hunting rifles, personal information and cheque books. Yet this girl gets unsupervised visits with her son, lives off welfare and still scams good people. 

These people do not deserve sympathy, they do not deserve media attention. 

Can we PLEASE start respecting ourselves, reporting good news, giving attention to people who deserve it.