Whispers in the Night

I think that God is talking to me. I can hear Him whispering.. I just can’t make out what He’s saying though I’ve tried.

I keep thinking back over what’s happened; the sickness, the fire, the past couple years – it’s all crazy and grossly unclear.. and I’ve had these moments where I’ve felt so alone, but I see it now – He’s been right here..

And now this..

What’s He telling me?

I must be missing something pretty damn big for Him to riddle me with bullets like He’s been. I don’t know what to think about the way things are here anymore, but I don’t like it and I’d like to go home now.

It’s like no matter how much or how hard I can try, nothing ever works out anymore. Things can be better than ever and still there’s a hitch to it all..

What did I do? Am I being punished for something? ‘Cause I just do not understand… I mean, everything seemed so damn perfect but now it’s all gone..

My whole life is gone…

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Too late..

F. Scott Fitzgerald, “it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same; there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.”

Over it..

DEVASTATION – Severe and overwhelming shock and grief….  What an amazingly accurate description.

I love my momma. Everyone does. She’s always had that.. that something that draws in people and she knows it. She uses it to get what she wants or what she needs. I didn’t see it until about halfway through my teenage years, but she’s probably been doing it forever….

She was here this past week, in Mississippi with my family. Her and Grams flew out semi last minute since Uncle Wayne was having surgery; The doctors had to remove his colon and large intestine due to the recent discovery a few rather large tumors growing there – it was kind of a big deal.. Anyway, mom stayed with me of course, while Grams stayed at Wayne’s in town. It was an awful visit. It’s hard to believe how much negativity a person can carry around without realizing it. 

How suffocating..

She hasn’t always been this way though. A while, yes, but not always.. And it almost always has to do with Grams. I guess some stuff happened a gazillion years ago and my momma just can’t seem to let it go.

I don’t know..

(This is probably going to be left unfinished for right now but I’ll get back to it..)

What it is.. (and what it isn’t..)

My ex husband was an asshole. Plain and simple. He was rude and he was mean and he had a raging temper that he couldn’t control. Not at first, of course, but the signs were all there. I just couldn’t see it.. or maybe I didn’t want to. I don’t know.. But even now, ten years later, I can remember being thankful that at least I always knew what he was feeling and what to expect. I can still hear his mom saying, “Hey, are you married? Then you’d better learn how to deal with him.”

I tried. I really did. I stuck it out for a long time in ways I never will again. I almost lost myself before I found the strength to walk away. 

Lately I find myself looking around at how much things have changed since I left. How much I’ve changed.. I’m not even the same person anymore. It took me 30 years to realize I had any worth at all, and I won’t go back on that for anyone no matter how much I love them or want their attention. 

I matter. 

What I want matters. 

How I feel matters. 

If it doesn’t.. then I guess I’m not where I should be. 


I’ve been remarried for a while and now and live a different life.  My husband and I have our moments, of course, but we’re a team. A package deal. We just work..

Postaday • Vice

Having vices is like having little quirks, if you ask me. Okay, so maybe not the meth-head, serial killer, nazi-kind of vices, but the simple ones.. Small-ish and harmless (more often than not) like a personality trait or a personal preference… 

My vices live down deep inside the center of my being with near my unfulfilled dreams and the memories I hold closest to my heart. 

A cup of coffee and a cigarettes, some candy now and then.. Turning my phone on silent just because.. Watching my girls while they’re asleep to name a few..These are the things that keep me grounded when my days are long, the small addictions that I crave within my soul.. Things I’d go batshit if I had to go without for very long.. 

My guilty pleasures. 

My shot of happiness.. 

My vices..