Tag Archives: Memory

The dick

This weekend was a reminder of past pain that I though I was almost over with. But triggers have a way of going off and within seconds your laying on a crying in tears struggling to breathe about all the pain you’ve endeared. I always think about the quote by Joan Didion.

“I closed the box and put it in a closet.
There is no real way to deal with everything we lose.” 

Last night all the way till noon today I spoke to a guy I was starting to really like. Lets call him “the dick.” Not because his penis was large or anything, he just ended up being a dick.

I found out he not only has a girlfriend but I’m pretty sure they have been together for years now. He came over, we talked for a long time about everything throughout our lives. I guess we didn’t want to focus on the real issue at hand.

Which we eventually ended up on, which of course ends exactly how anyone would expect it to. He loves his girlfriend and he doesn’t want to give up on that. Yes, he does really like me. But let’s be honest whenever does someone really leave their relationship for a “like.” Ok, maybe my ex did that. But most guys aren’t going to leave their girlfriend, who I’m pretty sure is also his fiancé.

It was terrible this morning. Absolutely an awful morning. I will never see him again. I mean of course I’ll probably run into him downtown here and there. Which will be awful and of course Valerie will murder him each time she runs into him.

I cried, slept for three hours, eat some food. And I’m feeling much better. It amazing how easily I can move on more and more now. Will I break down a few more times? Yeah, I probably will. Will this fill up another piece of baggage for me. Of course.

But later today everything seemed to changed. The universe of something is looking out for me because everything shifted to a much better day. A bunch of people I haven’t spoken to in a while spoke to me. A few will be in town next week and I cannot wait to be back home for a little bit and enjoy friends and family. I’m so so thankful that something is watching out for in the world. I have never felt more safe and so full of comfort.

Thank you

It gives me hope.

Now “the dick” is just distant memory of how terrible men can be and the test that I made sure that I never do what was done to me. I could have continued on with fooling around with him, but that’s not ok. I told him he should tell her too. To be honest I don’t think he will. I don’t think that’s ok. He will be another lesson, another pain and another reminder that I do deserve better and i will find someone who is going to be so lucky to have something like me in their life and I’m going to be so lucky to have a man someday in my life who is going to give me all the love and care I deserve. 

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Filed under Asshole, asshole dude, Confessions, Ex-boyfriends, Feeling Lost, Hope, Life, single girl problems, thoughts, trust, universe, WTF?

Memories (Written Weeks ago)

Song of the Day: Where did our love go by The Supremes

Quotation of the day: “I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they’re right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.” 
― Marilyn Monroe

Poem of the Day: Stay by Andrea Gibson

Today is an absolutely beautiful day. I stepped outside into this amazing sunshine and gentle breeze on my face. I closed my eyes and it felt like home, back home in California.

I miss my home so much right now. I miss the kids I work with. I miss their energy.

Today is a moving my soul/spirit kind of day, I can feel it.  Late last night I was walking up to my front door and I just stopped suddenly and felt an urge to look up into the sky and stare at the stars. That’s one of the beautiful things about the Midwest, how the stars seem to shine so brightly in the sky.  I could just stare at them for hours and they always reminds me of when I  go motorcycle riding out in the desert in California and at night you can see everything out there.

I’ve been thinking a lot about learning disabilities this week. I was with my special services advisor and I told her that my biggest fear/struggle that I’m facing with right now is for students I’m working with to understand what I deal with. (Now mind you my students back home have never judged me, but I’m not sure if that will be the case with students  out here) And my special service advisor says to me, “You shouldn’t worry about that, you have great social skills, your brilliant, you have so much going for you.

I have so much going for me….

I found out today I got the highest score possible on my reading comprehension and writing on the ACT. I’m not sure how to react to this. I not use to this feeling. I’ve felt it, but just not use to it.

Dealing with a learning disability has created a life full of memories that will forever be imprinted into my mind.

Memory: Being in a hospital, laying down in a cold, darkened room, they put, what can only be described as a swimmers cap with lots of holes on my head and with a paste like stuff and then put metal sticks through the holes, twisting my hair. I remember crying, I remember my hair hurt. I remember thinking to myself, “What is wrong with me.” I remember hearing my mom say to someone in angry, “They think something could be wrong with her brain.”

Memory: Speech therapy. Learning vowels, learning how to sound words out.

Memory: Flash cards with my tutor after school, learning to spell look, there, their, where,. I will remember the word “LOOK” especially Because it was on a little card, white, and there was just the word and in between the O’s were two eyes,. That’s how I remember to spell look and still see that picture when I see the word.

Memory: My parents and tutor fighting the school to keep me in Special Education, the school didn’t think I needed it. Basically I was costing them money.

Memory: 1st grade, picking out books for reading time, always reading the same books, over and over, because those were the only ones I could read by myself.

Memory : falling in love with reading. It was after reading Dracula in 7th grade. Then The Hobbit.

Memory: Falling in love with Shakespeare, junior year of high school, we read Julius Caesar

Memory: 5th grade, wrote my first long story, ended up being about 20 pages. Even got to read part of it to my classmates. That was the moment I fell in love with writing and I didn’t even know it yet, Shit I don’t think I realized that was the moment until this year.

Memory: Meeting a writing mentor that would shape how I write and do my job for the rest of my life. Wrote a story and performed it. If you’re reading this, I want to say thank you for everything you have given to me in regard to writing and my job. You set down a beautiful foundation and stunning examples for me. Thank you. You are one of my favorites writers of all time.

Memory:  My senior year English teacher. I not only fell in love with the Beatles even more but I fell in love with poetry. Wrote some of my first of poems in that class.

Memory: Senior year of high school, last IEP meeting of the public school system. I will never forget these words, “You have found a way around your disability.” I have found a way around? I was then told that my reading comprehension was that of a college grad. Students.  This was a moment in my life where I understood that the universe was looking out for me and that great things to happen for me. This was the moment I realized how strong of an individual I am.

Memory: my third year and my junior college, realizing I wanted to become a teacher. And believed I could become a teacher. Someone like me could become a teacher.

Memory: Amy cohen, her words changed my life. She connected to a pain at the time I thought I couldn’t handle. She has done so much for me without ever meeting me. She has helped open up the flood gates of my heart.

Memory: Terry Galloway, I healed from my disability because of her stories. Performing her work, each moment, each time she was there with me, when I cried I felt her pain, she felt mine. We have never met, but she is an author that has changed my spirit. Thank you for the gifts you have given the world. You are a gifted writer. I am healed because of you.

Memory: This summer, July, Realized I knew who I was, what I wanted to do for the rest of my life and  how much I’m in love with my job.

Memory: My coach, my boss telling my how amazing my performance was and how real it felt. And telling me not to let others bring me down and get in the way of the success I’m going to have.

Memory: Another wonderful coach telling my how beautiful my performance was.

Memory: My University has let me take sign language as my foreign language, understand the struggle I have faced trying to learn a new language and that sign language would be something to benefit me as a person.

Memory: Receiving the highest you can on the reading comprehension and writing on the ACT.

Memory: I read and write everyday, I still sit here and struggle everyday, but I’m doing what I thought was the impossible, I write and people can understand me.

These are memories that I carry throughout my day, some may be sad, still hurt, and may be a scar thats healed, but regardless of what I feel from each memory, they have all shaped me and have helped me become who I am today.

These memories define me.

When you ask me why I’m so happy. It’s simply because I have lived. I have felt the darkest, saddest, moments  in my life. I understand others pain better because of my own, I will always have more compassion then needed and I will never take reading for grated and I will never take writing for granted, because there was once a time where I was lucky to spell look right.

-I know exactly why I’m a compassionate person, I know exactly why I love so much and so freely. And yes I know sometimes I forget it myself on a bad day but on a day like this, sitting here I remember the reasons why. I remember the great aspects of all these memories, and that they are the reasons why I want to write, why I want to become a teacher, why I sit and struggle and fight through the tough days

Here, in these posts, all through my blog you can see my Learning Disability shine through, from misspelling, word placement out of whacked and terrible, terrible grammar. My learning disability shows my character, shows who I am and what really matters to me. A misspelled word isn’t the definition of a poor writer, a poor writer is someone who isn’t willing to take a risk, who won’t themselves out into the world.

auditory processing disorder

I am not my disability

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Filed under Disability, Struggles, thoughts