When Anti-Depressants Fight Back

"That's all I want in this life: for this pain to seem purposeful."
-Elizabeth Wurtzel Prozac Nation

Ok, so I kind of struggle with depression, maybe sometimes I'm a little melancholy, perhaps I crawl into a little dark hole and shut out the world, and there's a chance that's not all that uncommon.

Imagine that. Imagine that I spent a decade feeling like I was unjustifiably sad and had to fake happy as often as I could to balance it out. I mean how else could I explain people calling me "Mrs. Brightside," when I felt so dark more often than not. I was truthfully conscious of the fact that throughout much of my life I had plenty to be thankful for, but often felt so heavy, dark, and full of a sense of impending doom.

In between those times though, were times when things actually were ok, sometimes even better than ok. I had plenty of times I felt insanely happy as well.  I guess that's typical for people like me. I intend to expand more about depression itself in an upcoming blog, but I really wanted to share my most recent experience first.

Paxil.
Pax-hell.
You'll feel better, they said.
Just take it for a little while, they said.

This is why I try to never listen to "they." Yes, I was struggling in 2014. Yes, I had some hurts I had been struggling to get through and my anxiety was worse than it ever had been. Yes, I was losing sleep and feeling a tad unmotivated at work. Yes, after keeping the weight I had lost off for almost 6 years I slowly gained about 20 pounds over the course of the year. Sure, I might have needed a chemical boost, but I did not need self-destruction in pill form. Was I in for a surprise or what?!

Holy where-the-hell-did-four-and-a-half-months-go Batman?!

Paxil.
Pa-devil.
You'll be able to sleep again, they said.
You'll be good as new in no time, they said.

Ok, from February-June:

My anxiety attack count went down,
I got more sleep,
I was writing poetry, and
I met an amazing man and fell in love, but....

I got more sleep because I rarely wanted to get out of bed. I was writing poetry because I wasn't feeling motivated to do ANYTHING else and writing a blog would take a longer attention span than I was capable of having. I was still having some anxiety attacks, they just weren't as frequent. I did meet a wonderful man, and I am lucky he is sticking it out through all the storm that I am hopefully almost out of.  Then, the unexpected bonuses....

Paxil.
Shit-xil.
You'll want to run again, they said.
You'll be healthier all around, they said.

Numb.
I was like a numb, mindless, unmotivated, sleepy, zombie. Oh did I mention I aquired a lovely slew of hives that got progressively worse as the weeks went on. I didn't care about things that normally were important to me. My car looked like I lived in it. Dishes would sit longer than normal. Laundry piled higher. Before I started on Paxil I had just started working on becoming a morning person and was getting up at sunrise and doing yoga, drinking green smoothies, and was on a whole new health kick that I was actually excited about. Guess how many times I did yoga and drank a green smoothie from February to June. You guessed it, zero. Well, I may have purchased one from Jamba Juice, but that doesn't even count. Ready for the kicker? I piled on another 30 pounds in 4 months to the previous 20 pounds I had put on in 2014. The worst part about all of these things was I either didn't notice them, or if I did, I didn't care. I couldn't care.

Am I painting a decent picture for you? I was suffering from mild depression and severe anxiety, so I sought help. Then one day I woke up, looked around my room, couldn't button my pants, looked in the mirror and then the breakdown came. I couldn't live like that anymore. Why didn't I return some phone calls but I would others? Why didn't I feel like going into my office or working out? I was coasting on cruise control down a bizarre road of nothingness. It was a miracle I met my boyfriend when I did because I had so very little to give anyone. I hated what I had become and knew it had to stop or it would get worse. I had 4 pills left and no refills. I had two choices, continue the nightmare and call my doctor to get more meds, or run hard the other way. So, I chopped them in half and began my escape.

It wasn't easy. I had one of the worst panic attacks of my life and almost thought I was having a heart attack. Then came everything else. The past several weeks have been some of the hardest weeks I have experienced. I couldn't think, complete sentences, or make sense of much. I had shocks in my brain that felt like I was being electrocuted and would send shocks throughout my body. They were so intense and painful at first I couldn't even drive and I did end up in Urgent Care. I like to think I deal with pain fairly well, but the part that was hardest to deal with was the uncontrollable emotions. I cry at the drop of a hat. I can't help it. I'm so overly sensitive right now it's absolutely intolerable. I have had my feelings hurt by friends and family recently in ways that I don't think I would've been too bothered with normally. I am still forgetful and get frustrated easily. I am miserable in countless ways, but I have hope. I know I'm going to get through this part and I can absolutely see the light.

Paxil.
Pax-hole.
You'll feel like yourself again in no time, they said.
You'll be happy, they said.

Now I'm 50 pounds overweight, with skin discolorations from wherever I had hives, I feel electric shocks in my brain every few minutes, I cry even when I don't want to, some nights I can't sleep at all, and some nights I fall into a deep sleep leaving people I care about hanging waiting for my phone call, my mind is still a little cloudy, but I know it's almost over. I know I can get through this. I went rollerblading twice last week. I cleaned out my car inside and out, put air in the tires and did some normal repairs on it that it has been needing. I am doing everything I can to stay positive. This has truly been one of the most confusing and frustrating times in my life. On the other hand, I think I learned so many lessons. My anti-depressants actually put me in a state of feeling more depressed with less passion for life in general. (Not to mention the weight, the skin spots, the constant puffy eyes and brain zaps). I should have communicated more with my doctor, the nurses in my life, people around me, etc, but I just kept it all to myself trying to fight my way through it; that's the first lesson. The next lesson was I should've talked to the doctor before yanking myself off of the poison pill I was taking because that could've all been much worse. I also realized that it's so important to pay attention to the little clues around you when battling depression, especially when meds are involved. All the little clues were right there in front of me screaming that the meds weren't working as they should've been.

Now what.

Apologies to those affected during my drugged up ambivalent state.
Get my health back.
Start my yoga practice again.
Feel.
Feel everything again.
Appreciate the darkness, for in it I found my way to the light.
Hang in there through the tears and brain zaps knowing that they won't last forever.
Share my story so that others will know they aren't alone, and maybe some people out there will understand depression and withdrawals on a deeper level than they have before.

In closing, I am not seeking sympathy or pity, I felt very strongly that I needed to share my experiences, because for the first time ever I am truly understanding that I am not alone. I hope this helps someone else realize that as well. Now for some yoga...

Namaste.

When Life Kills You...But Leaves You Breathing...Then What? (My Story)

Title by Steve Spencer, story lived by me.

Where to start? The double divorces? The dramatic weight loss/lifestyle change? The two children? The string of failed relationships where being mislead and cheated on repeatedly by numerous people left me severely co-dependent and broken? The emotional, psychological, and even physical abuse I suffered from both of my husbands? Growing up as a Pastor's Kid with the pressures of being perfect? The breakdown and betrayal from the plethora of "Christians" I called my close friends? The doozy-The Rape? I couldn't choose, so let's just dive in.

~She's a Little Runaway~

I ran away once or twice as a child, doesn't everyone? However, there was one time in particular that I remember vividly. What the situation actually was I can't recall, but the emotion is clear as day, "I'm not good enough." I believe I was in 3rd grade at the time. I pulled out my suitcase, a pillow and a sleeping bag. I told my mom I was running away...she helped me pack. Not in a vindictive or cruel way. More like a parent wanting to let me figure this out on my own. The fact is I am very strong willed and she probably saved herself a lot of trouble handling it that way. I walked myself to my neighbors house and got situated under the tree that myself and the neighbor boys used as a play fort sometimes. I'm sure you could ask my mom how long I was gone and she would know, but to me it felt like days. Eventually the elderly lady that lived there came out and told me I had to go home. So I returned, tail between my legs and everything. This story doesn't play a huge part in who I was or who I've become except for one thing, the voice in my head that said, "I'm not good enough," was a voice that has forever been impossible to silence, and in the times in my life where my confidence was as it strongest point and that voice was a whisper, something broke me and put me back in my place.

~Boys Will Be Boys~

I had my first crush on a boy in 4th grade, I remember his name, his hair cut and his smile perfectly. I attended a year-round elementary school so I had the same kids in my class every year. I liked this boy all the way through 6th grade, even up to the point where my best friend decided she liked him too and they kissed behind the backstop on the baseball field. I never got to kiss that boy...or better yet, he never got to kiss me. It wasn't until 8th grade that I would have my first official boyfriend, (I use the term lightly because the extent of our relationship was passing notes between classes and talking on the phone). This was a big deal, this boy was one of the, if not the most popular guy in school. He uuuuh, grew up fast, was athletic and had great hair. (Looked him up on Facebook awhile back and he's fat now so that's cool, ha). This boy would be the first one in a long list that would make me cry. After months of going out we had our first fight, and during this fight I would suffer the wrath of a pissed off man for the first time. During the class we had together he passed me a note that read, "Why are your boobs so small and your thighs so big?" As if I wasn't insecure enough. ("I'm not good enough.") We eventually made up, he would later become my first kiss, and shortly there after would cease to remember I existed when my family moved 45 minutes away to plant a church. So much for "true love." So there's the groundwork leading up to my string of failures. I started high school in a new city with small boobs, (they were average), big thighs, (they weren't that bad), and poor-ish in a land of rich kids. Perfect.

I used to pride myself on the fact that I didn't care what people thought. Well my high school taught me to care, in fact, it required it. My first week of school a cheerleader that sat behind me grabbed the collar of the back of my shirt and flipped the tag out to look at it. When I asked what she was doing she told me she wanted to see what brands I wore...when I told her I didn't know she looked at me like I had just slapped her grandma. I was in a twilight zone, completely out of my element and less than prepared for what lied ahead. (I'm not good enough.) Long story short, I survived, but not entirely unscathed. My first high school boyfriend would eventually experiment with drugs (I did not), and would make out with my best friend after school one day. I tell you this because I now believe it set the stage for my tolerance on this type of situation later on. I almost view it as like a callus, not to say that it hurts less every time it happens, some hurt worse than others, but the recovery is quicker and it becomes easier to forgive. At least it worked that way for me.

~The Betrayal~

I know, I know, you want me to get to the good stuff. I'm working my way to it, believe me. Meanwhile during all of this high school drama, (literally), my family had planted this church I mentioned earlier. I went to church every Sunday my entire life, when we started this church it became a part-time job for which I wasn't paid. In fact it cost me. Our church was for new believers, or seekers as it was, and I helped with the worship, (I've also been singing my whole life,) my dad preached every Sunday, and my mom helped with everything else. I loved the church, I loved the people, and I loved God. The families became my family, I babysat their kids (usually for free), my mom would cook meals and was basically a friend, counselor and everything else you could imagine, and we would host Bible Studies at our house frequently. This was our life. My family put every ounce of love and devotion into these people for just over 4 years. You know what they say, all good things must come to an end, and there's always a bad egg, well that about sums it up. One man that was a family member of someone I was extremely close to was that bad egg. Why he did things he did I can't say for sure. But, his poisonous ways spread and in church lingo we had our first "church split." This happened just after I barely survived high school. People that I considered family betrayed my family, turned their backs on us, and my entire world was turned upside down. (I'm not good enough.) The emotions that I felt would be nearly impossible to describe, in fact unless you have actually been through something similar, I don't think you could understand. It's like combining the pain from every break-up you've ever had times 250. To be precise, It's 12 years later and I'm not over it, (my parents would get divorced not long after all of this, in part because of this, and I recovered from that faster.) It hurt me so deeply that I moved away when I got the opportunity with my job. Since then I can count the number of times I have been to church (not counting Christmas Eve) without taking off my shoes. I did not survive this as unscathed as I did high school. In fact when I moved back home, almost 5 years later, I saw one of the couples while shopping at Costco and that scab got picked and I bled all over again. This has yet to change, even to this day. (And as far as the bad egg is concerned, well, I actually look forward to the day when I accidentally run into him).

.....So, there's the beginning...check back soon because this story isn't even close to being over. (I promise there's some good parts!)

Decide; Taking Desire to the Next Level pt 1

“Everything you want is out there waiting for you to ask. Everything you want also wants you. But you have to take action to get it.”
― Jack Canfield

“What's the world's greatest lie? It's that at a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what's happening to us, and our lives become controlled by fate."
― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Deciding...


This is a topic that is close to my heart, (in theory, I suppose that could be said about the majority of what I write, but trust me, this one is special). You see there have been many times in my life where I felt powerless, stuck, and that joke of a light was so far down the end of the tunnel I'd have to hitchhike to get there. Somehow or another I made it through all of those low moments and I have become a better, stronger person because of them. You wanna know the secret of how I did it? I took the first step.

I suppose that's not a very big secret is it? Yet, at the same time that first step can seem like such giant leap. I always picture that scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade when Indy is standing on the edge of nothingness looking at an impossible gap between where he is and where he needs to get. "Only in the leap from the lion's head will he prove his worth....Impossible," he says, "No one can jump this." He pauses, "It's a leap of faith." Then he sticks his leg out in dramatic fashion and lets go and allows himself to fall forward. Thankfully there is that convenient invisible path that leads across to the other side, but the point is, he didn't know that.

It is absolutely impossible for us to know the outcome before we take that leap of faith, but it is a certainty that we can't reach the outcome if we never take the first step. You know how much I like talking about myself so I figured I'd expand on a subject I briefly touched on in a previous blog(This one) to explain my process of taking a desire, and deciding to make it a reality.

Back story- my family on my dad's side is of the athletic build and my father and grandfather both played in the NFL. My mom was a beautiful, super thin cheerleader. I was built like my dad, minus the height, so I'm 5'6" with large hands, feet, and muscular thighs. I remember my first thoughts of thinking I was fat happened in elementary school when I noticed my legs were much thicker than most of the other girls. Thus began my insecure feelings, and an overactive "I'm fat and that's that" mentality. High school was the worst, I was on the tennis team, which meant short skirts and those ridiculous bundies that covered your underwear while cutting off your circulation. From my recollection, I didn't have a speck of cellulite, but I knew I would've traded my larger smooth legs for any of the girls with the thin ones despite any imperfections. Next came graduation and my first job, I like to think of it as an upscale burger joint. Thanks to two years of free burgers every time I worked, and being in a relationship with a partner who was obese, the pounds slowly piled on. I did more diets than I care to count, took every new quick fix pill there was, had gym memberships that went unused, and never lost more than 5-10 pounds at a time, which always came right back in half the time it took to get them off. You see, I had the desire to be thin, but I didn't decide to be thin. To give you an idea, I was probably about 150-155 in high school, and easily acquired an extra 30 pounds before I met the man that gave me my children. When I got pregnant with my first child I was 187 at my first Dr visit. Two weeks after the birth of my second child I was pushing 230. I was miserable, no beyond miserable. I was a stay at home mom at the time and would always see the nutrisystem infomercials. Finally I convinced my ex-husband to let me try it. I owe the first 30 pounds to their plan and system, after that I got burned out and lacked motivation. I could fit into many of my pre-pregnancy clothes and I lingered in that zone for over a year. My marriage had been falling apart before the birth of my second child and my depression wasn't helping. I knew some of it could be attributed to my weight, so I started buying some books. Many different kinds, everything by Jillian Michaels, different diet books, and even some magazines. I started forming ideas of which parts of what diets might be do-able for me. One of the books I read was all about veganism, now it was asking too much for me to give up cheese and chocolate, but I thought if I could really boost my weight loss by cutting out meat for awhile I could live with that. I remember the night I decided as if it was yesterday. My ex-husband and I had our neighbors over for pizza, as I was eating the giant slice of pepperoni I mentioned at the table that I was considering giving up meat. My neighbor gave me 3 weeks, his wife gave me a month and then my ex-husband said, "Joc, you won't make it through the first week." BAM! I have this saying I came up with years ago and it goes like this, "Tell me I can't and you'll be the first person I tell when I do." Right then I decided. I decided to prove them wrong, I decided to follow through, I decided I was ready to be thin and healthy, and I decided to begin immediately.

I'm not going to walk you through the entire process, neither of us have that kind of time, but I'm going to give you a highlight reel of sorts. I was too fat to go to the gym, (how's that for logic eh?) so I knew I had to do the first few phases on my own. I counted and tracked everything that went into my mouth. (Get your mind out of the gutter). I bought workout clothes and running shoes. Now, I should tell you, I didn't run. I hated it, in fact I was the girl in high school that flirted with the PE teacher to get out of running the mile. However, Jillian Michaels said run, I said how far. I remember my first run, I had my headphones in, I was super pumped, stretched out and made it around the corner before I wanted to die. I made it down the street and my sides felt like someone was trying to tear me in half. I called my dad almost in tears, surely he would know what to do, "Dad, I have a side ache in both sides, I want to die, I'm trying so hard, what can I do to get rid of these side aches?!"

"Joc, here's what you do, you scream, shout and holler, and keep going." So I did. I threw up twice in one mile, sweat like a pig, cried like a baby, and kept going. I made it home and collapsed, but guess what....I went back out two days later, and a few days after that. Before I knew it I was jogging 3-4 miles like I had been running forever. I also invested in some Jillian DVD's, (30-day Shred for starters) and that really helped keep my enthusiasm up. Here's the best part, I didn't quit. I kept running like Forrest Gump until I reached my goal of 150, and then something strange happened, I realized I wasn't done yet. I had a system and it was working, and what if this time I could be in the best shape of my life? What if I could look better at 26 than I did at 16? I decided to find out. Today I am sitting here at a comfortable 137, and have been a bit lazy lately. But I have stayed pretty much within 10 pounds of my best weight since I lost it.

Here's the risky thing about choosing to decide....once you make that decision and attain your goal you have to maintain it. I'd be lying if I said staying at this weight has been a piece of cake for the past 4 years. (Mmmmm cake) However, I've been through a divorce, two break-ups, one heart break, and have been in a non-stop financial struggle with cars that are out to get me, and although I have my weak moments where I want to stuff my face, I can assure you I won't ever be the old me again. Why? Because I fought too hard to get here, and now, I've decided to stay here. I often joke and tell people that I have getting-fat-again-phobia, and truthfully, I do. However, fear isn't enough to prevent me from doing something, but deciding not to is.

So what is it you desire? Do you want it enough to decide to take that leap of faith and make it happen? You are the only person that can take the necessary actions to achieve your goals. No one is going to hold your hand. Jillian Michaels wasn't running next to me yelling at me to keep going, I was talking myself through it. I truly believe if you want something enough and decide to make it happen, you will get there. Do you remember where you were sitting when you decided? Where are you sitting now.....

Damn Regret....and Resolution Conflicts

“Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.”

― Richard Siken

Oh the clarity that comes with a new year. December 31st is a huge production and we get sloshed out of our minds, whine over our years worth of misfortunes and screw ups and make a ton of empty promises of all the things we want to change and accomplish the coming year. When in fact, January 1st is nothing more than the day after December 31st. The clock doesn't reset when the ball drops, time just goes on, and so does life, one day after another.

I don't know what's worse, the false hopes and promises we make for ourselves, (I'm going to drink less and work out more. I'm going to spend more time on myself. I'm going to get up earlier and work harder. Diets. Diets. Diets. Or the one that seems to be "trending," I will fall in love this year-as if that's something we need to strategize for). Or perhaps the way we look at the past year and are overcome with regrets. Since I like to end on a positive note, I will begin with regrets. The "Why Didn't I's" and the "What If's" and the doozy, "How Could I Have Been So Dumb." Am I close? Sound familiar? Of course it does. If we sat here and I told you all of the things I should regret you would beg Mike Tyson to chew your ear off before I could finish. The truth is I have chosen to not live that way. That doesn't mean I don't occasionally look back and wish I would have made different decisions! Hell ya I wish I would have made different decisions. However, that is not the same as having regrets. "Regrets, I've had a few, But then again, too few to mention, I did what I had to do..." -Frank Sinatra, My Way. That sums up how I look at my so-called mishaps. Some of my biggest downfalls have come when I found myself in between a rock and a hard place and I did what I had to do. Guess what....it wasn't always a bad thing. You see, had I taken one different step, returned one less phone call, stayed at a job, left a job, went to college after graduating, didn't kiss that boy, or would've kissed a different one, I wouldn't be here, right now where I am. I have to believe I am here in this place in life, with what I have and what I lack, for a reason. I may have momentarily wondered to myself, 'How could I have been so dumb!' but I never get comfortable there. It's like I said in my first blog entry,  "I may not be able to tell you what to do in all situations, but more than likely, I can tell you what not to do."  That is the very reason so many of my friends and/or family still come to me seeking relationship advice. I had an ex get irritated that my friends would call with their relationship issues, so irritated that one night he said, "Why would they call you for advice, you've been divorced twice and well, how about the rest of your track record." I thought about it for a moment and realized it's because I've screwed up in almost every way possible, I can at least prevent them from doing things I've done. So, on December 31st, while the world was thinking of their regrets, I was thinking, "Thank God I got all that crap out of the way, what's next!" I recommend giving that a whirl. Now...as for the future....

Happy New Year! Let's all get skinny and healthy and happy and rich! Sounds good right? Sure. If it were that easy our country wouldn't be in the middle of an obesity crisis, and our economy wouldn't be in the pooper. I will start by telling you right now, I don't make New Years Resolutions. I make along the way resolutions. I was overweight when I met my second husband, and fell off the rocker (or broke it) after having two babies. In 2007 I weighed in at a whopping 230 something pounds. I have news for you, I didn't spend December 31st 2008 joining the gym, weight watchers and on hold with 1-800-29Jenny, what for, I had dieted several times, got to a comfortable 180-190 and if my jeans zipped it was whatever. I woke up in April 2008 and decided. That's the key word-DECIDED! I decided to make a change. I educated myself, found what worked for me, (more about this later), and did it. I currently weigh about 135, (130 if you see my Driver's License-don't act like you don't do that shit), and I make the decision daily to stay this way. Ryan Seacrest, midnight on January 1st, and an enormous sparkly ball had nothing to do with it. So what's my point in all this? Stop waiting for a new year to better yourself, and don't set goals that are so unrealistic you'll kill yourself trying to achieve them. I didn't wake up in 30 days with all that weight just miraculously gone. I had to work at it constantly for almost a year, and truthfully, I still work on it now. That is the real world. You want success? Educate yourself. You want to be skinny? Educate yourself. You want to be happy? Educate yourself. You want ---Fill____in___the____blank____---? Educate yourself!! Then put it into action. Now, today, tomorrow, next week, until you make it happen. No one is going to do it for you! Money will never grow on trees, brownies will always have calories, and happiness is a choice.

If you don't believe me, test the waters. Make your silly New Years Resolutions, but instead let's call them goals. Then make daily goals, weekly goals and so on. Call it whatever you want, but I can assure you, if you limit yourself to "What I want out of the year 2013," you and I will both be disappointed. And as for the box you've labelled "Regrets of 2012," I invite you to shove that sucker under your bed with the missing sock partners and God knows what else and forget about it. Let's spend a little less time looking back, and more time moving forward. You are where you are right now because of your failures and your achievements, embrace it, and strive for more. I am a huge Jillian Michaels advocate, and own most of her DVD's, but in one of my favorites she says, "You are capable of so much more than you even imagine," and I hear those words in my head all the time. We are capable of more than regrets and resolutions. We are capable of achieving the success we value most. The moment you start believing that is the moment things will start to change.

PS: Happy New Year ;)

When the End is Actually the Beginning

"Very occasionally, if you pay really close attention, life doesn't suck." -Joss Whedon

I didn't really know how to start, instead of wasting time dwelling on it, I decided to jump in and see what happens. Before I could expect anyone to read anything I write, I suppose it would be appropriate to know a little about me. (At this point you should understand that 'a little about me' will just be the tip of the iceberg, the rest of me will have to come as we go along.) I woke up recently and found myself 30 years young. I'm not really sure how this tragedy happened without my ok, but nonetheless here we are. Alright, some of you argue, 30 is the new 20, PERFECT! Except, that doesn't change my situation in the least. I am a "single" mom, (the quotes are to be later defined as "it's complicated"), twice divorced, (Yes, twice), and have had a love life resembling an album compilation somewhere around the ballpark of Taylor Swift meets Adele meets P!nk with a large dose of Alanis Morissette. In other words, You Oughtta Know it's a Love Story that Set Fire to the Rain....huh, Who Knew?! (Isn't it Ironic? Ok, I'll stop). Back to the summary, from the first marriage I acquired the desire for a second marriage. From the 2nd marriage I acquired two amazing daughters, and an extra 50 lbs to my already 40 lb overweight frame. (I have since lost it all, TY Lord and Jillian Michaels). Since that divorce...or lack thereof as fate and the State of California would have it, (if they are going to make it so difficult to end a marriage don't you think it should be a little harder to get one?!), I have "dated" a player, a bartender, a guy with a Harley and more tattoos than regular skin, a "recovered" drug addict, a thumb war champion, and when I was ready to throw in the towel at 27 1/2 I fell in love with the sweetest guy I had ever come in contact with, he was kind, not tainted, caring, sensitive, attentive, (I'm going to spare you, but the list of his qualities could go on,) and he was aaaaaaalmost 20....but he adored me. To be honest I was at a point where it was easy for me to think that guys my own age (at every age) had screwed me over royally, and perhaps this was my answer. I don't want to get into this too much now, as this is the reason for the previously mentioned "it's complicated," but you can't understand where I'm at unless you know where I've been. So, there you have it. Now you know a little bit about where I've been, I can't wait to tell you where I'm going, and I'll share with you some pretty cool shit along the way. I'm just saying, if you find someone that has failed as many times as I have and is still smiling, I'd probably want to read what she has to say. True, I may not be able to tell you what to do in all situations, but more than likely, I can tell you what not to do.


Side Note--- 10 Things I am Known for:
1. Making jokes in uncomfortable situations
2. Saying "shit" more often than I should
3. Finding the Bright Side in almost any situation (which can get annoying, ask my friends)
4. Owning every color of the $8 Target tank top and wear them year round
5. Drinking Sugar Free Red Bull like water
6. I don't believe in strangers
7. I love birds. Yup, and not just like a little....
8. My cars are always falling apart
9. I have spent the last 4 years of my life almost always being on a mini diet
10. If I had a dollar for every time I wondered if I was on an episode of Punk'd in the last 5 years, I could buy Ashton Kutcher.

There you have it...the introduction into the life and mind of JFox....To Be Continued

-JFox