Blue Girl 208pounds

Crazy lady rants

Picking up the pieces from a mood swing.

I’m a bipolar moody bitch and sometimes my dark side gets the best of me and I end up having to live with the broken pieces my dark side broke. It’s my life. Moments of darkness, moments of light and partly sunny days in between where I’m stuck in both.

I think I know why I don’t hold grudges or why I don’t stay mad at anyone longer than a few minutes. It’s because I myself need forgiveness and therefore I also shall forgive. I need those around me to let go, as I shall also let go.
We all fuck up, we all have bad days, bad moods, bad periods in our lives. We all eventually grow past it, learn from it and sometimes we lose people we care about along the way. That too is part of the growth, part of the lesson.
People I’ve recently pushed away I have to ask myself if they were ever there to begin with. The answer is no, at least in my eyes. Because if they were It wouldn’t even be a question. If they were they wouldn’t have been so easily moved, and their absence wouldn’t feel as relieving as it does. Do I miss the silence? Nope. Do I miss the sarcastic asshole comments? Nope. Do I miss missing them while they pretended to be a ‘friend’ not at all. Do I miss reaching out to dead air? Not one bit. Yet not one of them ever had the balls to let me go. Was I the accident on the highway they couldn’t look away from but also had no interest in helping?
So as I grow through the debris my sensitive dark side left behind, I’m wondering if maybe I should appreciate it more for doing what the light hearted, sensitive light side was/is too scared to do?

Maybe the pieces don’t need to be picked up at all because they were already broken.

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Wild Turkey Shenanigans while driving home…

Driving home from Wal-Mart and I’m cruisin’ down the road admiring the beauty in dying fall trees; when a group of turkeys start running in a field I’m approaching. The front turkey is hauling ass, like he’s about to take flight. So I’m a total idiot and never thought about turkeys flying, I just assumed they were always headless, featherless, smothered in butter & seasoning roasting in an oven. Anyway, so I’m getting closer, he’s running faster and as soon as I start laughing at this turkey running, (’cause have you seen one? It’s hilarious) the little bastard takes flight right as I’m about to approach his take off spot, I’m yelling OMG it’s a turkey, no turkey NOOO! As he appears he’s going to either smack my windshield or bird bomb me through my open window. I start to squint waiting on impact of some kind when I notice his clique not far behind. Now I’m laughing harder cause there are like 5 of these strange Thanksgiving dinner meats hauling ass about to take off. I’m still yelling “NOO! STOP TURKEY STOOOPP!” because again, I’m an idiot and I think these birds can not only hear me but actually obey my commands.
Well, I escaped with no dinner meat beak lodged in my face, my car escaped with no ground turkey stuck in its grill, and all the little roadrunner type birds escaped peacefully having no clue they scared some silly white city chick half to death. 😂🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃🚗
#adayinthelifeoflizzie #citygirlinthecountry #countrylife #idontbelonghere

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Heroin overdose /Narcan and Cancer crisis Part 1 WARNING – this may anger the enablers and drug defenders.

You know what, amazing how “scientists” can find a cure for a drug over dose so quick but can’t find one for cancer while BABIES & CHILDREN are left to die!! Buuuuutt nooooooooo let’s save the life of a drug addict… For free and offer them help for free.
Alllll these foundations and organizations and non profits and the millions of dollars raised to find a cure for cancer all these years and still nothing???? But needle pushers get brought back to life within a short period without foundations of every size shape and color???

If I pissed you off, I can’t say I’m sorry, because I’m tired of seeing innocent children on my newsfeed dying of cancer or fighting for their lives every single day and reading heart breaking words of a mother begging for another day with their child who did NOT choose the cancer life, but the cancer life chose them. Seeing babies and little kids with tubes and ivs, shunts in hospital beds where they don’t have the option to leave and are being fed one drug after another that makes them sick beyond what their little bodies can take… I’m not sorry that you or someone you know made the CHOICE to do drugs. I am sorry that our pharmaceutical investing government keeps approving deadly pills that get you high and make you want something stronger. But you know what, I’ve taken some of those same drugs given to me by a doctor and they made me feel like absolute shit and I didn’t take anymore. Never once did I say “I love how numb my body feels and how I can’t speak or talk, hey I know I want more and more.” no, I prayed to live through that dose and called my DRUG pushing prescription writer the next day and told them about it and said I’m not taking it again.
I’ve had 6 surgeries, was hit by a car, a broken ankle, and deal with back pain on a daily basis sometimes crippling back pain, headaches, bi-polar mood problems .. And I find natural remedies for my ailments. A Tylenol, an exercise, a hot bath, essential oils, loud music, a freaking coloring book and a rubix cube.
You feel bad? Go to any children’s hospital in America and look at the parents broken heart pouring out of their eyes, or the children that just want to go outside.
You needle pushers and tide pod eaters are why I have to talk to my little kids about drugs at such an early age and teach them young what drugs do to people. I educate my children because I never want the streets or their so called piece of shit friends to be their teachers.
Opioid crisis?
What about the cancer crisis in this country?

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Is it me, or is it them? I’m a beautiful disaster.

Depression. Mood swings. Feeling Alone.

Is that who we are or are people in our environment making us feel and act that way?

Is it insecurity that keeps us stuck where we are comfortable even if we’re not happy?

Is it Fear that keeps us from trying?

What exactly causes our mental health to plummet in life? Were we seriously born this way? What actually started the downward spiral? I’m pretty confident our biology has something to do with it, but I’m starting to wonder if unfinished business from our past and how we shaped our lives around that unfinished business has more to do with it than our genes.

I was diagnosed with bi-polar at 15 years old. My fathers girlfriend at the time hated me. I was pretty, I was nice, I was sweet. She hated everything about me but did so silently and with a smile. She started telling total lies to my dad about me doing drugs ( never did) he knew that, he knew me but love will make you do stupid things and so he started acting different towards me. I was a good kid. Even at 15 I was respectful, I stayed in my room listened to music and did my homework. I rarely went out. Anywhere. Fast forward SHE insisted I needed to see a psychiatrist. I was out of control. I laughed at her because I was a dream child. She insisted I needed help because once I noticed her behavior I called her out on it, she didn’t like that.  So at that time my environment made me depressed, I was having a mental battle of wits with a grown woman who manipulated my only parent into believing things that weren’t true. I was fighting to believe I was sane and a normal teenager, a normal daddy’s girl except every day I began questioning all of those things. She would be my best friend one day, reel me into her web and because I was so desperate for a mother-daughter relationship I got trapped every single time. I believed in the good. I believed in second chances. and third. fourth. etc.  It got the point I didn’t know what was up or down anymore. I didn’t know who I was or what I was. What was right or what was wrong. That situation I feel made me ‘bipoolar’, my moods were in fact all over the place. My depression was deep, it was dark and my internal demons were brought to life and had a field day at my expense. At 15 years old, I was diagnosed with bipolar. I gained my label as “crazy”. I became the victim of mental illness.

I won’t go into my current life but I’m seriously questioning whether or not that turning point at 15 set me up for who I am now, why I’m where I’m at in life and how my life turned out. Don’t get me wrong, My childhood was fucked up but after making the early decision around age 9 that I only wanted to live with my dad life got a lot better. Up until the wicked witch showed up.  But that label started a snowball effect for the rest of my life. It set the foundation of  my identity. That label created a whole other person inside me that I haven’t been able to shake. (not multiple personalities, although sometimes I swear it feels that way) The diagnosis was and still is continued. So that just means I am in fact a roller coaster of tornado emotions, and it’s all true.

The events that have taken place over my life has ultimately shaped me. The desire to be accepted yet the world around me is constantly requesting I change, and adjust who I am. Why should I change? I’m not a horrible person. I’m just someone who likes small groups, nights at home, and nature.

Who am I?

I am an introvert that enjoys my own company. I don’t like small talk or meaningless conversations. I have a hard time dealing with the uneducated even though I’m not that smart myself. My grandest intellectual ability is common sense. I’m an analyzer by nature. I think about everything and anything and have scenarios A-D figured out within seconds. I think constantly.   I love board & card games that tap into my inner intellect.  I love puzzles, any kind. I love music and all kinds, I love to sing and dance but only in my own company. I will never sing or dance in front of anyone minus my kids.  I am shy and don’t do well in groups but will smile and say hello to anyone I come across. I don’t like parties, I don’t do drugs and drink only on certain occasions. when I do drink I take my liquor straight one shot at a time, and usually one shot is all I need. Mixed drinks are for late night parties that don’t have an end time. I do not like beer and will not drink it. Champagne isn’t my style and wine is okay on occasion. I love to laugh and talk. I love to help others I care about with blunt advice. They come to me because they know I tell it like it is and I will often apologize in advance for how blunt I’m about to put something. I don’t sugar coat it. I am a Capricorn.  I am a beautiful disaster.  You see a normal looking middle aged female smiling saying hello. Inside I am crying, fighting back visible tears, fighting my demons, inside I am a disaster.

  What am I?

I am disabled. Since I was 28. I’m almost 37. 😦  I want nothing more than to go back to work and feel like a human being again. I want my OWN money that I can be proud of. I want friends. I want a purpose. I want to be a contribution to society not a roach. I don’t want to have to lie and say I work when I really don’t. I don’t want to be embarrassed anymore.  Thankfully my husband works 40-50 hours a week , but he busts his ass from 630am to 5pm every day. How do I thank him? …. I racked up $20,000 in credit card debt within one year because sometimes times were tough and we had to buy groceries or pay bills, other times I said well, It already has money on it why not buy this or that. I have nothing to show for any of that $20,000 minus kids clothes, shoes, shoes and clothes for us and last years Christmas.  THAT is how a bipolar brain works.  Shopping is my only drug. It’s my only release. Credit card debt is now my biggest cause of my depression and marriage problems.

I am on disability for my Bipolar because after the birth of my first child my demons were given life and they multiplied to the point I had no choice but to quit my job that I loved. I could no longer walk and chew gum at the same time. I couldn’t function. at all. I took care of my baby, I kept her alive and well and loved her something fierce. But the day she was born, something in me died. Sad huh? I think it is. I have tried getting it back but nothing I have tried works. I even moved 500 miles away thinking a different environment would bring me back. My husband came with us but while the move killed a few demons it brought on different ones. I now fight daily with rapid cycling bipolar, I am at war with myself on a daily basis, all day every day. I’d honestly kill myself but I love my kids far too much to do that. I chicken out every time. I love them and growing up without a mom was the worst part of my life. I would never do that to my kids. I have to protect them. That’s my job. I have to be their mother and their best friend. I have to be their shoulder to cry on when they need it. That’s my job and my heart.

not sure if anyone will even read this far, I just had to get this out before I exploded. I hope if you too suffer from mood issues you will consider your environment, the people in your circle, know you’re not alone, and most importantly find your ONE reason to stay alive and keep fighting. You are worth it. Somebody does love you even if you feel like nobody does, Somebody will miss you, even if you feel that nobody will. Keep fighting. ♥

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what’s considered “crazy”vs “normal”

Why can’t someone have a bad mood without someone saying “you need an anti-depressant” why can’t I have a lot on my mind, need time to myself before I go insane without someone saying “you need a stabilizer”
maybe I don’t feel the need to medicate my problems,maybe I prefer identifying my issues and finding a solution so I can move past it.
I am NOT depressed and I’m NOT experiencing erratic moods. I AM experiencing a lot of financial stress, a lot of relationship issues, a lot of torn feelings, I’m homesick, I was never country and never will be, I feel isolated, alone and used.
No pill will fix any of those problems. A pill will only numb the emotions that as a human being I am entitled to feel. I’m allowed to feel angry, sad, stressed out, emotional, just as much as I’m allowed to laugh, cry, walk or run.
I am a human being with a beating heart and a brain that thinks. Last time I checked having feelings is all part of being alive.
I have no desire to kill myself, I don’t hate anyone or anything, I am simply going through a stage that many other people go through in life. It’s called LIFE! But because I am different than some people I know, they can’t understand my way of dealing with things. They only accuse me of being ill minded and want me to go get pills. NO THANK YOU! been there done that, and unless I feel myself in a dark hole with death choking me, then I will very well deal with my problems head on so I can move forward with my life. Sitting still with a blindfold on never gets anything solved.
So, am I wrong/crazy for thinking this way? Or are these people suggesting a prescription is the answer just want me like them? popping pills to numb the pain and stress even though they wake up just as miserable, stressed, and unhappy as they were 25 years ago?????
somebody help me understand. No wonder I have issues. Being told who you are ultimately defines you. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I am okay and the people that have drilled it in my head my whole life are the ones with the problems???
Maybe my stages of depression are caused by my environment. Maybe my moods are normal. I mean do normal people have bad days? Do normal people ever feel stressed out or sad? Overwhelmed or feel like they need a change???  Or do “crazy” people only experience those things?

I am very aware of my mental state. There have been times in my life when I’ve been so depressed I knew it was more than just a bad day or a bad week. I knew I needed help and I went and got it to help pull me through. I know my brain is damaged. My whole gene pool has mental issues, I just feel like I have a better grip on mine and a better understanding on life and what makes me tick. I had a different up bringing than my siblings and my parents. My parents know me, but they have no idea who I really am. I was a latch key kid raised by a single father with help from a guardian angel, an earth angel and mothers of my friends. I share their DNA, but certainly not their way of thinking.
somebody who isn’t blood has to be able to make sense of this. Cause now I have it in my head I’m just crazy and need pills to numb me.

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Dieting fucking sucks!

Here we are on day 5 of this pain in the ass journey. I hate every part of it! I am moody, I’m irritable and this is why I could never even get past day 1 in the past. I’m on day 5 and while I’m extremely proud of what I’ve done over the past 5 days there is a huge part of me where the fat girl is winning. I just want to give up and go back to “i’m fat and there’s nothing I can do about it” But that dumb ass skinny bitch inside me reminds me just how freaking miserable I am weighing almost 220 pounds. I’m miserable dieting, and I’m miserable being fat. I’ve reached the stage where I decide which miserable I can live with more. Realistically, I can live with the dieting more so than I  can the fat girl.

I managed to lose 1.8 pounds since last Friday. My goal is 2 pounds so I’m happy that I came that close. 2 pounds a week is hard, and being my weight I know it’s possible to lose 3-5 pounds in the beginning but I’m not forcing that nor focusing on that. I’m happy with 1.8 this week.

Why is that 1.8 loss not motivating me?? It should, but it isn’t. This is a slow process and I’m well aware of that fact. I didn’t gain 30 (82) pounds over night and I know it won’t come off overnight. It’s just hard. very hard mentally and physically.  When your body is so dependent on sugar and the chemicals in your brain lives off of it, it’s a horrible detox to go through for not being a drug addict. The slightest setback makes you want to resort to the one thing that makes you feel good and last night I gave into my “drug” SUGAR.  I went all day long eating well and sticking to my plan, and yes my home made DD FV iced coffee creamer has lots of sugar in it, but I’m not giving that up yet as it’s my only source. Last night, I ate 4 peeps, 2 hand fulls of Cheetos, 6oz of Pepsi and a small handfull of Robins Eggs (Whoppers). It was wonderful, until i realized I just failed myself. Whatever, I went to bed and slept it off, Today would be a new day. Well, today around 1030am I gave into SUGAR. 2 peeps and a handful of robins eggs. grrrr. I stopped myself and put that crap away before I  totally sabotage myself.  I’m just ill.

DIETING FUCKING SUCKS!  If you’re struggling with this journey as well, I’m here for you. We can do this. It does suck. It is hard. We will have times where we fall, but I think it’s important we get back up and keep going. We can’t just lie there and expect to lose weight. We have to work at it, accept our falls, accept what we’re feeling, what we’re going through and trust the process!
Starting weight: 216.8   3/25/16Current Weight: 215.0 4/1/16  -1.8

 

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the straw that broke my back

There comes a light bulb moment that ultimately took a long time to build up, but when the time comes, you’ll know. I can finally say “duh, I know.” I say “duh” because I allowed myself to finally take a hint that I didn’t want to take for some time now.
I’m a little hard headed, I like things literally spelled out in plain english mainly because I’m a forward person myself. I say what’s on my mind and tell people like it is.

Anyways, a person can only be hurt whether intentional or unintentional so many times before they finally just say fuck it, and walk away. Hurt comes in many forms but tolerance comes in one. People think because you grow quiet that you have already given up, however the quiet phase is the thinking phase, the sit back and watch phase, considering your options and weighing the pros and cons phase. The person just hasn’t given up completely yet.  You sit back and take notes of everything that is being said, or maybe there lack of. They say actions speak louder than words but I’m not so sure. I’ve seen actions say “yes” and words say nothing.  But,  what I’ve learned over my 36 years of life is to really pay attention to the in between the lines stuff. The words they don’t say, the actions they  don’t take. Just like a photograph can speak a 1000 words, I see 1000 words in between everything people say or do and it’s rare I’m wrong. I’ve been that way since I was little, I call it my personal 6th sense. I can read people in a heart beat and tell you whether they are good people or someone you should avoid.  I only wish I’d take my own advice and listen to my inner sense.

I love to help people, I find great joy in making others feel good about themselves. I suppose it’s because on a daily basis I drown in self hatred and criticism and I never want anyone to feel the way I do. So, I like pointing out people’s good qualities and helping them work on their bad. If a stranger smells good, I make a point to strike up conversation and tell them. If a mom is struggling with their kids in the store but I see she’s doing the best she can, I’ll smile and tell her she’s doing a great job and it’ll be ok. You should see the way their face lights up, and feel what I feel knowing I put it there. It’s a beautiful thing.

In my case, my kindness is my weakness. I feel so much of other peoples emotions that I get lost in the process. Eventually my inner bitch breaks out and people closest to me begin feeling my wrath.  I just get tired of being treated like a nobody by so many people when all I do is care. My mood shifts and I stop caring for a while. People I miss, I can no longer give a second thought, things that used to upset me just goes away.  you get my point. Well, today is one of those days.  I can only take so much before I break and the final straw was laid on my back. It’s been a long time coming, a wall that has been slowly building and I think I finally got the “hint”. I have been freed from something weighing me down for a long time now and it feels great.

Today, I’m embracing this new sense of lightness and running with it. March 2016 is starting off to be wonderful. Today is going to be 75 and sunny. Winter was long and difficult for me as it usually is; but this one I chose to fight alone without medicine since last time I gained 20 pounds and I still haven’t lost it. To realize I made it through this winter alive is an awesome feeling. I literally was at war with myself every single day and for once in like 5 months I feel like I won. My demons are still loud within my mind, but with this new sense of “fuck you” I can say I feel great. I feel strong. I feel like I can and will shut them up and make them a little quieter. My demons will always be with me, I’m 100% aware of that and until the next dilemma shows up in my life I’m going quiet them.

Who knows, maybe now since this thing won’t be weighing my down anymore, I can finally stop eating my emotions.

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I deleted all my friends on facebook! (except my husband) Part 1

Before you read this blog or any other blog I’ve written I must forewarn you that while I pick on other people’s grammar, punctuation, and spelling… mine isn’t all that great when I write. I can easily pick up on the mistakes of others.   I do know the difference between are, our, there, their, and they’re, and, an, then, than…etc so give me some credit.   (ok, now enjoy yourself breaking out the red pen and circling, “x”ing out the mistakes and fixing it all. Better yet, start scribbling)

On September 26, 2014 I made a decision, one that most people in today’s world would consider CRAZY! or maybe unheard of, an unspeakable crime in the online world; I deleted all my friends off Facebook except my husband.

I always kept my friends list at 100 or less. I have never been the type to collect “friends” as if they were cute little pocket fuzzy pets, nope not my style. So, periodically I would go through my friends list and make sure those on there are people I actually care about.  Leading up to 9/26/14 I was getting annoyed at what seemed like everything. The completely insane world news that I just couldn’t wrap my God-fearing head around. The local news here in the USA was keeping me up at night. Some of my friends were chronic profile picture changers, like once a day to 2-3 times a week! talk about attention seeking??!! ughh gag me! This friend was sick, this one liked a page for another cancer baby or really ill child, This one’s xxxx died, this one was constantly referring to their dead family member as if they could read Facebook, this one hated their job so badly my newsfeed heard about it a few times every shift. Another one liked slutty twerking videos or booty pictures thinking nobody would see it, well I saw that they “liked” it.  The list goes on and on. Before I go any further let me explain all that. The sad news stories didn’t really annoy me as much as they broke my heart. I found myself praying constantly for friends and family and strangers, the city, the state, the country the world. I desperately needed a break from all of the heart ache.  I also got tired of Facebook telling every one of my friends exactly what I was doing on other sites. I’m sure there was a setting somewhere and most I changed to not tell Facebook, but Facebook has a peephole. (no, seriously it’s this little hole that the mean gremlins of Facebook look through, laugh and post your shopping, music, private photos, likes, comments so that ALLLL your friends see it and find out what a weirdo you really are!)

I have tried leaving Facebook before, but found myself logging in again after about 10 minutes. So this time I had to do something more drastic as a way to punish myself and make it more legit…I deleted everyone. Out of respect for my husband I kept him on there so he can still see what  I’m doing, it’s only right.   I need (need? really?) Facebook for this and that because the genius ass who invented this demon site made it so E-V-E-R-Y-thing links to it for a rather one click, no password to remember convenience. (Thanks Mark Z!)

Anyways, here it is a week out, wait, no… it’s only been 6 days! OMG 6 days!! that’s it??? uughhh

it’s not that bad, really. I get my fix (Hi, my name is Lizz and I’m a Facebook junkie) by still using Facebook and reading the awful news everyday and all my funny sites like Ellen DeGeneres and Kevin Heart, Fluffy and so on but I have to admit it is kind of lonely.

My boredom now gets bored! Is that even possible?  Here’s where it gets interesting, as I’m going through a slight withdrawal, I’m realizing I’m spending my time doing other things. I’m a stay at home mom and I’m not a very good one. My house is always a mess no matter how hard I try to keep it clean, my laundry is always piled to my eyeballs, my toddler finds a new canvas to draw on quite daily, (I need stock in Magic Eraser, cause those things are miracle workers)  I’m kind of a strict no fun lazy mom so “playing” is just something I don’t do. As a child nobody ever played with me, I had to entertain myself and I survived just fine. (that’s another story) Anyways, without Facebook friends I’m getting more around the house done. I’m looking up more often so I’m seeing the little things I may have missed before with my kids, (sad truth isn’t it?)  Most importantly, a life without Facebook friends is truly beautiful. I mean those who I mean something to will find a way to stay in touch and without them knowing what I’m doing all the time gives us something to talk about.  Those who mean something to me, I will reach out to and again we will have stuff to talk about because we don’t know each others business anymore.

This was a very hard step for me because 2 years ago I moved from my lifelong hometown in Pennsylvania to a little hole in the state of Virginia. Yes, it’s beautiful here in the mountains, yes it’s more peaceful and the people are a hell of a lot nicer, but truth is… it sucks! It sucks big fat monkey nuts! No Target! how can anyone live without a Target? OH but we have a Wal-Mart and TONS of fast food places. YAY! again, gag me! NO malls, no rap music, no rock music, just bluegrass and the good ol’ depressing broken heart love songs of Country. …BLAH!     I used Facebook as a way to keep in touch with all my peeps back home, but because I don’t work or have ways of finding new friends down here I used Facebook as my “world” my outlet, my only source of connection and it became my crutch. I had a bad day- Facebook was there.  I felt lonely or depressed, Facebook was there.  There was only one problem though… Facebook was, but 99% of my friends/family weren’t. Not because they didn’t care, but because who wants to hear about somebody’s negative moods? NOBODY! I became dependent on finding confirmation of almost everything I was doing, as if the opinion or “likes” really identified who I am as a person.

HOW did I allow myself to become so dependent on a social network to decide my self-worth? My beauty on a scale of how many “likes” or comments a photo received? I was one to never give a crap about what other people thought of me, now all of a sudden I fear a hair being out-of-place in a picture, or looking fat, or a double chin!  I realized that none of that matters. A post showed up on my newsfeed one day “those who mind, don’t matter & those who matter don’t mind”  DAMN RIGHT! That’s when I kept repeating that to myself and a few months later came to the conclusion that I have nothing to prove to anyone.  My REAL friends wouldn’t care how crazy, moody or ugly I am and those who had a problem with any part of me…didn’t matter! 
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I miss my Facebook friends/family, 98% of them were very close to my heart, question is… how close to THEIRS was I?  If you think about it, friendships and families survived decades without social media. Those friends and family members who didn’t belong in our lives in the first place that social media brought together, well…. I don’t have that problem anymore either.

This is only week 1, I have plans for my children, my marriage and myself. Bare with me.  This is a healing process and I’ve taken the first step of acknowledging I had/have a problem.

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