Friday, April 29, 2016


I'm chatty today... as well as currently avoiding people who have managed to piss me off.

We're on the eve of the fifth month of the year, and I can say, I'm still riding pretty damn high. The further we get into the year, the clearer the picture becomes of the goddamned mess that was 2015. The huge discrepancies in feelings and behaviors and... everything-- the magnitude of the depression, it's so much easier to spot, to describe them... to know I have finally cleared that stretch of seemingly-never-ending hurdles.

My body has also bounced back. My face is clearing up and my exhaustion is almost non-existent. I find myself with a renewed enthusiasm and energy for the gym. While last year it seemed as though just sniffing a fucking cookie made me gain five pounds, this year I've been dropping inches off my waist without my body putting up much of a fight (I haven't been weighing myself in years, since it made me extremely neurotic).
All of these discoveries I'm sure have a lot to do with my fantastic mood. Seeing my face return to looking like MY face brings a joy to me I thought was lost forever. Forget getting my work-out body back, that shit is fleeting... but my face? The face I know can be sweet and innocent and... my fucking face? I was scared it was going to be scowling, wrinkled, and reddened for life-- an angry, bitter face... that ISN'T me.

I am more ME now than I have been since 3rd grade.
I have done and said things I haven't done or said in decades. It's not like it's a new behavior, it's an OLD behavior I thought so many years of torture had killed.
My family members have noticed the return of KidAnomalie, often times smiling and staring at me, usually remarking on how I used to do or say what I just did-- a glint of happiness at the return of the witty, silly little girl I used to be.

It's almost May and I'm STILL happy... fucking unbelievable. 

Wednesday, April 27, 2016


Today marked the Ninth anniversary of my grandfather leaving this place like a lightning bolt.

There are days when I miss him terribly... when I remember funny little moments I shared with him. I'll think about riding my grandpa's horse, playing with his assortment of cuddly farm animals, and see the images in my mind with the rosiest of filters.

There are days when I still feel incredibly angry and resentful towards him... even if he is dead.
I still have moments where I feel my blood boil, and my head feel lighter, from holding in my rage when someone speaks of him as though he were the greatest human to have ever lived.
There is no doubt in my mind that he was a good guy, that he had his great moments... but it makes me angry to know he placed me in this predicament... where I have the power of completely annihilating this image others have... to taint his memory in the minds of others... but I choose to shut up and walk away. I HATE that I have to deal with that. I WISH I could be like everyone else and whole-heartedly say "That man was such a fucking badass, that fucking amazing HeMan," without the back of my mind screaming "BULLLLLSHIIIIIIT!"
I also hate that I bite my tongue, shrug my shoulders, or raise my brow when others wonder why the fuck I'm such a weird, quiet girl.
WHY the hell can't you be normal? What the fuck is so terrible?
Well, fuck me if I know...
But I know... and I choose to stay quiet... and not blame others... and wonder if others can really be THAT fucking stupid to not put two and two together... to figure that "Well, someone hurt this poor chick."

But I'm not here to talk poorly of my grandfather.
It still feels weird to know I can no longer see him, or hear his stories.
It scares me to think that he could be out there, unable to rest his soul because I'm still so resentful of him.

Everyone has a story, and my grandfather certainly had one that is worthy of a movie saga. The amount of suffering he had to endure is something we continue to learn about to this day, with discoveries of all sorts of historical data.
I've learned to forgive, and sort of understand that he was a damaged person... that had numerous redeeming qualities.
He was my grandfather.
I possess many of his traits-- I have his skin tone, his smile, his explosive temperament, his stubbornness, his susceptibility to fall for a sob story, his charitable tendencies. Thanks to him, I love animals, I'm adventurous (really, I am), I love scary stories, I love nature, I know about farming, I love music... I love storytelling... I have thicker skin.
He prepared me for this world. He prepared me for the harsh realities this life slams upon others-- whether we looked for them or not, whether we deserved them or not.

I miss him.
Besides that night nine years ago, the first night after he died, I haven't dreamt of him.
I'm not sure I'm ready to see him again... but this entire month I kept thinking about today, his anniversary. I kept thinking "Like a lightning bolt... death came for him and took him out with a flash... a quickness... like he wanted."

As I walked outside to head out earlier tonight, I looked to my right and saw a storm brewing in the city's south side... lightning bolts lighting up the sky.

Fucking lightning bolts.
I see you.

Friday, April 22, 2016

No harbors

I'm disappointed in the lack of writing this month... but things are so depressing, I don't find it very conducive for my emotional wellbeing to constantly update.
No, I am not depressed, and the depressing things are not happening to me.
It's still that very bizarre thing where I'm standing quietly as I watch the world of others come crashing down.
People are dying-- YOUNG people. Young people are dealing with health scares.

I'm watching friends deal with the looming death of their loved ones... watching them watch their loved ones succumb...

It is surreal. It is scary. It is... so tragic.
SO MANY of the people in my circle are dealing with this... it's hard not to feel my heart break... and frustrated that I can't do more for them.

There's also that fear in the back of my mind-- don't let this trip you up... don't let this be what reels you back in... don't let this shake your grip on that lifeline you were given.

But I'm ok, it's not that type of sadness I'm feeling.My current sadness actually guilt trips me in a way... for ever wanting to end my existence, while ALL THESE PEOPLE are battling so fiercely to keep their own.

It's all stuff I'd rather not delve into... so I just paint-- that's where I am.

Friday, April 8, 2016

Su dia