My final say.

I don't know what it is about going to the bathroom, but when I enter a bathroom it's like an onslaught of crazy thoughts come into my head and completely take over. It's like an alien abduction without getting taken into space... or an alien for that matter... anyways..

that just happened to me.

but I'm thinking about my break up, the one that happened 7 months ago, and I need to get this off my chest.

As i was peeing, I looked down at my right hand toward the finger that was once home to my Claddagh ring. I took it off a couple weeks ago thinking it just didn't feel right resting there anymore. I mean, I (and I mean my mom bought it, hello I am WAY superstitious when it comes to Claddaghs) bought it out in Colorado, when I was with him, thinking it would just be a symbol of our foreverness.

I don't think I'll ever be able to wear that again.
I need to buy a new one, one that is just for me.

Then, while washing my hands, another thought struck me.... I remember being happy with him.. but I don't remember how it felt being happy with him.

In my mind, its like a sea of pictures screaming at me "HEY ELLA, see that smile? It's genuine... don't you remember that day?" over and over again. Wanting me to remember, wanting me to feel that again.

It hurts to realize I don't remember being happy when I was with him, I mean I loved him. The boy was my first real love.  I will love him forever and for always.

But it is time for the pictures to fade away in a box, in my attic.
Time for the stuffed animals and cards and notes to be stashed.
Time for me to be grateful and happy for the memories I do have.

and definitely time for me to move forward with my life.

As I was adjusting my clothes and primping my hair, I picked up my own chin, forced a smile on my face and will continue to remind myself that this is okay.

It's okay to move forward.
It's okay to feel absolutely heartbroken.
                                                                    but, only for today.

So this is my final say. You will not hear of this break up again.

Tomorrow, I'm getting back to me.


Stupid bathroom.
YOU RUIN EVERYTHING. ;)

2 shout outs and the Zombie Spider that ruined my post.

I want to get this out of the way first and foremost.

You should go and check out The Tall One because she has a thing for combining words and I just have a problem speaking. She is my Stalger (blog stalker) and I am hers. It's really a fantastic relationship we have and she lives less than an hour away..

Meant to be?
I think yes.

Also, if you haven't, go read Blunt Delivery.
She is one of my favorite bloggers/people.
She is a fantastic writer no matter what the topic.
Today's 'bite' is beautiful.
Go read her too if you love me.
If not, don't tell me.. I don't want to be sad today.

Okay, now that those are out of the way let's talk about something else! *cue cheering*

I have officially entered the "floating" stage of the year before your birthday.

WAIT, RANDOM INTERJECTION.

Somebody please explain to me how the Spider *shudders* I just smooshed with my shoe has seemingly come back to life?! UMMM, I am really not okay with this since I am 100% arachnophobic and am quite possibly beginning to have a panic attack if I am not already... Um... somebody please tell me we don't have zombie spiders or that spiders now have a super power to come back to life now.

Great. I'm going to have nightmares for weeks.
This is what I get for being freaking arachnaphobic.

again, I am not okay with this.

So back to me being in the floating stage before my birthday thing...
My birthday is 3 months away and to me, maybe not to you, it seems to be flying by but standing still at the same time. I hate this sensation, its like I come to terms with

OHMYGOD, I'm pretty sure the leg just twitched on the Zombie spider. I don't know for sure since I'm trying ot type this out, but you guys, this thing is in my periferals. I can't not see it. It's like I need horse blinders in order of avoid looking at it.

my birthday being close and I'll just have to wait, but I'm getting SO impatient at the same time.
I'd blame it on the fact that I'm turning 21 this year but in reality, I get this way every year around this time because obviously my birthday is my favorite day.

okay guys, I don't think i'm going to be able to finish this post because that really was a zombie spider. I literally came un-balled from when I smooshed it, sat there tapping its foot and the took off scampering down the wall.

Being an adult, I ran out to get someone to kill it for me.

Now I feel like I have things crawling all over me.
This is awful.
I'm going to go cry in a corner now.

ps - in the editting phase of this post, I seriously looked down and jumped out of my chair because I saw my own hair on me. There is something seriously wrong with me people. Does anyone have any idea how to work through arachnaphobia?? I mean, I know I should just go head on with my worst fear but obviously after the above incident, I can't. I mean, in 6th grade, I got out of taking an open book test because there was a spider on one of the pages and I screamed, slammed the book shut and started bawling my eyes out. It was traumatizing for an 11 year old okay? Yes, I mean both the spider being in the book and the fact that I did that in the middle of a SILENT classroom in MIDDLE SCHOOL.

pps - Don't ya'll wish you could be in my head?

pppss - Also, I'd provide a picture of what I think a Zombie Spider looks like, but then I'd never be able to come back to my own blog.. you guys understand that right? Also, if all the mention of the "spee-ider" (think MegaMind) comes back to haunt me here and shows up in my ads, I might have a heart attack... I am not considering changing all of the "s" words into "spee-ider"... tempting.. but I'm lazy.

You've been [semi] warned. I should probably divulge a little more information than this...

I was going to write about how I have serious anger managment/temper issues.. but I'm getting too pissed off because I can't find the right way to put it.

Bottom line, I have a temper.
Don't egg me on.. or do and see what happens.
Your choice.

Obviously this face is much better in person because I'm not trying to pose for it.
also, I got mad that I couldn't get a good picture but I'm at work and this is the best I can do. SO I'll just have to live with it.

Basically, things make me fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. It's bad. I'm constantly working on not getting so angry or worked up over stupid things, but usually I just get frustrated, which makes me angry, then I stress out over being angry all the time. It is a vicious cycle.

Will this make you like me a little more?
No?
I can deal with that.

[insert segway here since I've got nothing good to say as a transition]

Something awesome happened this week.

Blunt (Brit) over at Blunt Delivery told everyone that I'm better than Ke$ha.. or something like that. :]

She made me blush immensely in all kinds of weird places.

So if you are travelling here from over in Blunt's world....

Don't ask.. I have been playing with picnik.. okay??

*****

More to come this week (and probably next) when I talk about my need of acceptance and my epic laziness.

Get excited.

Baldy McBALD.

You guys.. I had (kind of still have) a bald spot.

It happened last year, around the time a friend of mine passed away.

I woke up one day and BOOM.

BALD.

I absolutely panicked. What the hell was going on with me?

WHY WAS I GOING BALD SINCE MY ENTIRE FAMILY HAS A VERY FULL HEAD OF HAIR?????????????????????????????????

obviously, I was irrational, I mean hello, what 19 year old wants to start going bald? Okay lets be real, who wants to go bald period? That's right.. the ones that do are few and far between.

So yeah, I was going bald.

Thankfully, its growing back now, as you can see from above. I wish I had a better picture to show just how bald that spot was. It was scary and embarassing. I'll look through pictures and see what I can find.

Anyways, I debated on whether or not to tell the internetz about my bald spot.

and since this my week of confessions, I figured I might as well.

To get back to where I left off, you know, realized I was balding, freaking out...

OO! OO! Ella, what did you do next???

Well, of course I cried to my mother and she immediately started looking to the internet for answers. I tried to avoid that because I don't want to think I have cancer before I have reason to think I had cancer.. if that makes sense. Then she started asking people. Apparently, its pretty common for women to get bald spots.

UMM... THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE.

So, I did what any rational person would do and I made an appointment with my Gynecologist because obviously my lady bits were making me go bald. Logic was not my best friend during these days people.

Turns out I stressed myself out to the point of losing my hair.

Yeah.

I was told to relax.

take a bath, read a book, write, walk.. whatever

I'm all, how am I supposed to relax when I know that my stress level makes me lose my hair which is stressful in and of itself because I really don't want to be bald, I like having my own hair, I don't want to wear wigs.

Yes, just like that, my stress level went through the roof.

and while my hair may be growing back, my stress level hasn't gotten any better. Some days it seems like I just shed endlessly and I am bound to go bald any moment. Others, I lose one or two strands and my hair calls it good. But the only common factor is that I stress over everything. Which I can relate back to yesterdays entry about me being a masochist (and an alienator).  

If I would stop putting myself in these awful positions ALL THE TIME, I might just be able to relax and probably stop losing my hair.

After I had this realization, what do I go off an do?

Throw myself into a pit of drama snakes and scream like hell.

Yes. I know, I'm brilliant.

How do you unwind/relax?

It's something I definitely need to work on.
My stress levels are constantly through the roof.
Help.

Editor's Note: Can I just say that I am very frustrated with the fact that this is all center aligned? I am, its stressing me out looking at it and yes, I tried to fix it, but it wouldn't take. I kind of want to punch Blogger.

The Alienator and the Masochist.

For some reason, people tell me I am good at things. Possibly because I am, or maybe its just because they want me to feel good about myself. Either way, people continue to tell me I'm good at things.

I know there is one thing I am particularly good at.
Okay maybe 2 things.. neither of which are terribly positive.

The first...

I am the QUEEN of alienation.
____________________

al·ien·ate

   /ˈeɪlyəˌneɪt, ˈeɪliə-/ Show Spelled[eyl-yuh-neyt, ey-lee-uh-] Show IPA

–verb (used with object), -at·ed, -at·ing.

1.

to make indifferent or hostile: He has alienated his entire family.

2.

to turn away; transfer or divert: to alienate funds from their intended purpose.

via

_______________________

 

I am ridiculously good at pushing people away, turning my back on people, and just vanishing for long periods of time. I don't know why I do this. I don't want to do this, but it happens ALL THE TIME. Its a wonder I have friends anymore after the bullshit I've put them through again and again. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm running out of time with some of these people. They are getting fed up with my antics and I can't say I blame them. I try so hard to be a good friend and to make everyone happy, but then I have this overwhelming urge to just run like hell and do the "loner" thing all over again.

 

What the hell, Ella?

 

Actually, I'm in one of my alienation phases right now. I want out, but I can't bring myself to just face my friends.

 

The second thing I'm UNBELIEVABLY good at...

 

I am a Masochist.

 

Throwing myself into the drama.

 

It's like I feed off of it. Sometimes, it seems as though I won't make it through unless I become involved with some sort of drama.

 

"Ella, its like you purposely throw yourself into the bullshit. You like the drama, you like hurt. What is the matter with you?"

 

Someone very dear to me said that to me recently. And they are right, for as much as I hate drama I am just absolutely drawn to it. Apparently, my mind treats it like it is air and I won't survive without it. It makes me feel like a masochist. Why do I get such pleasure out of the immense amount of pain I feel?

____________

mas·och·ism

   /ˈmæsəˌkɪzəm, ˈmæz-/ Show Spelled[mas-uh-kiz-uhm, maz-] Show IPA

–noun

1.

Psychiatry . the condition in which sexual gratification depends on suffering, physical pain, and humiliation.

2.

gratification gained from pain, deprivation, degradation, etc., inflicted or imposed on oneself, either as a result of one's own actions or the actions of others, especially the tendency to seek this form of gratification.

3.

the act of turning one's destructive tendencies inward or upon oneself.

4.

the tendency to find pleasure

via   (we are going to focus on definition #2 people)

_________________________

 

Yeah, I'm good at those things and I am not proud. I want to work through them. I want to get better.

 

I want to be the best friend I can be, because lately... I just haven't been.

 

So, this week, in an attempt to regain what little dignity I feel I have left, I am going to be writing out my issues. I'm going to turn to you, and hope you have words of advice or encouragement because frankly, I need to man up here.

 

I just hope I can salvage the friendships I have left.

I am beautiful... right?

Photo by Mo Hnatiuk

This is me.
Vulnerable.
In this picture, beautiful.

It cracks me up how beautiful I feel I look in this picture when the day it was taken, I was bitching about how I hadn't showered (gross) and had yesterday's make up still on my face. I stood in a bedroom of an apartment, covering up the naughty parts and stood there listening to my best friend snap photo after photo of my back.

It takes a lot for me to feel beautiful.
I, like so many others, struggle to find the beauty in myself.

People tell me I'm beautiful/pretty/hott/kablammy/whatever all the time.
But rarely do I see what they are talking about.

When those rare moments happen, and I can look in the mirror and cat call to myself, I find myself feeling radiant and ready to strut.
In fact, I do strut. Right on down the stairs to my mom and say "LOOKY LOOKY!"

Then, I go out and am immediately faced with self doubt and my inner voice. 

"No one is looking at you"
"You really thought you looked good? HAH?!"
"See that girl? You couldn't look like that if you tried."

Just like everyone else, my inner voice is an asshole.
and it makes me feel like tar ALL THE TIME.

I'm good at hiding my insecurities with being funny and witty.
I'm able to put on a good face and pretend to have a good time when I'm out.
Until someone gets me on my own and talking and I word vomit my insecurities all over them. Seriously, I get myself into a lot of messy conversations because I can't shut my effing mouth. EVER.


I'm scared for Florida.
All those people and their judgy eyes.
Who have been toning their bodies for months to have that perfect Florida look or a beach body if you will.
But, I will just go, do my thing, and enjoy because I'll kick myself later if I don't purely based on how icky I think my body/face is.
I don't want to be looked at like that girl who is trying to hard or the girl who could use a little more effort.

I really just want to be seen for me.

This is why I'm so grateful for this new project happening out on the interwebz.
I love what The Curvy Girl Guide is doing.
Talking about Real Girls with Real Curves.
I subscribed the moment I found out what they were doing.
You probably should too.
What they have to say is beautiful.
and real.