09'

So much has happened this past year. And at the same time, so little has happened.
I almost died.
Like, holy moly.
When I was younger, I always said I wanted to be in the hospital on my death bed, with everyone worried sick, coming to bring me flowers and cards and kisses. And I wouldn't feel an ounce of pain, and I would look beautiful with perfect hair and make up, and in the end, I would survive.
Only my family and a few close friends were informed of the incident on February 16th. I didn't look beautiful. I was a mess. I drooled, kicked, twitched, seized, sang, danced, and talked nonsense. I wasn't in pain, but the people that loved me were in agony.
I think the reason I was saved was because the people that I had hurt didn't deserve to lose their daughter, sister, and friend.

So, I could list 5 or 10 resolutions about diet coke and cursing, and while I do know I have so much room to improve in those areas, I really only want to make one resolution.

This year, I want to live my life for all the right reasons. Because for nothing else, would I deserve each breath I am given.

happy new year

Madi here. I am on my papa's iPhone. So this is going to be short. But hello,I'm in colorado right now, I had a great Christmas and I hope you all did too. New years is in two days!! I can't believe how fast this year went by! Soon me and molls are going to be 21! Agh were getting old we should be married by now! Haha but seriously. So I don't know if you knew, but Colorado is stinking cold! I can't believe I used to live here! Okay well I'd better run, love.

Love you molly

bas;kfja;slfjka;lfkja;sdkgjaoejsldk

But I think it has ceased working.
Suddenly I'm yelling and cursing and having migraines because I have so much anxiety that I think I might stop right in the middle of this post just to run down stairs to my room and scream into my pillow.
Deep breaths.
In, Out.
Suddenly I care that the house isn't perfectly clean, disinfected, dusted, etc.
Suddenly I can't listen to my brothers talk about sports for another moment.
Suddenly I am bitter at my parents for absolutely no good reason that I can come up with right now.

I guess the real question is,
"Did I really just use the word, curse?"

Prozac, please work. I like me better when my bathroom gets uncomfortably dirty before I even notice it needs to be cleaned.
I like me better when I don't care what or how much I eat.
I like me better when I can laugh or at least blow off my brothers when they talk about how amazing they are at sports.
I like me better when I think my parents mannerisms, stories, lectures, are so adorable.
I like me better when I'm not biting my nails.
I like me better when my heart doesn't go boom boom boom too fast.
I like me better when my mind isn't making all this damn damn damn noise!

So, friends, acquaintances, and strangers.... Incase you had wondered. Now you know. I'm a coo coo girl with horrifying anxiety attacks. It's hereditary. I take prozac and I believe it has stopped working.
This just might be the end of the world.

Okay, so I joke about it, but really, my anxiety is always on my mind. Even when my medicine works fine. You see, My Nana..... well she had it bad. Then she had my mom... and gave it to her. Now, when I say she gave it to her.... I mean two things. The anxiety is a real disorder. My mom was passed the same chemical imbalance, but she was also given an example of a way to cope with it.... or not cope with it.
Anyhow. She passed it to me. My amazing father can't fix an appliance to save his life, but he is a miracle worker in the field of medicine. When I was still so young, he helped her to get all the help she needed. I should mention, it doesn't just take a pill and wahlah, it requires so much discipline, patience, mind control, self reflection, and some good therapy. My mom is amazing. So anywho, I was only exposed to a little bit of the craziness.
Now I'm on prozac and I have seen two ways of dealing with anxiety and stress. What I am terrified of, is having the responsibility, possibly, of teaching my daughter(s) to cope with it. It is so hard. And so stressful. I might just have an anxiety attack thinking about anxiety attacks.

Okay, really... this post has put me in the most irritable mood. So I'm ending it. But now you know. I am crazy crazy. And I loved prozac, until now. And now I am mad at it. And I don't want to switch to any other anti-anxiety medicine because they often make you a fatty. And I don't want to be a fatty.
yuck.

For Christmas

I got $2,500.00

It's Christmas Eve, and I'm feeling so emo.
Weather, please leave.
Mannheim Steamroller, I'd like to put you in the toaster and see what happens.
Christmas presents that say "To Molly", where the heck are you?
Sinusitis, get the heck out of my life and stay there.
Neighbors, enough with the treats. My tummy is so over them.
Chevy, I hate you. You embarrass me when people around town have to pull you out of the snow.
Christmas movies, you're all the same. So predictable.
Santa, my family leaves you carrots every year because you are FAT!
Dishwasher, you picked the worst week of the year to malfunction. DAMN YOU for ruining my manicure!
Everyone my age who is home with their spouse, I'M NOT JEALOUS! I'm not sure if you think I am or not, but I just wanted to make it clear...
Shoe collection, I'm sorry I am not letting you see the world. It's Winters fault.
Fire place, I think you've given me black lung and I want you destroyed.
Coats, I hate you. Your unflattering, bulky, uncomfortable, too short in the sleeves, and I hate getting you out of the closet and hanging you up every five minutes.
Bank account, Christmas is making you shrivel up and die.
Leg hair, quit it! I can't keep up.

Jesus, Happy Happy Birthday.
Thank you.

scrubs

3 years. 3 years. 3 years.

I'm going to be here for 3 more years.

That means no love, no social life, no roomies, for 3 years.

I don't know how to tell Madi. Once again, I ruin our plans! Luckily, she is a good friend. She will understand.

3 years. Being responsible is so boring.

But just between you and me.....
I wouldn't have it any other way.

mommy dearest

Raising X number of children...
making time to keep up my hawt bod...
holding a church calling...
maintaining a good marriage...
keeping up with friends...
keeping up with family...
paying bills and budgeting...
CLEANING...
having 'me' time...
throwing the best birthday parties...
attending endless meetings (church, PTC, etc)...
sorting, rotating, folding, and putting away laundry....

It scares the heck out of me.
I have absolutely NO idea how mothers do it... (with out a nanny, which I refuse to do)
It's very common in my culture to have large families. Amazing. Honest and truly, I don't think I will EVER be fit to have a large family. I'd be that horror story you hear about occasionally on the news... you know the one. What's ironic is that in my patriarchal blessing it says, "From this union (marriage) will come MANY children." And I kid you not, ask my family, that when the Patriarch said this sentence, he said it like he was having an outrageous vision. He emphasized MANY in a confused and impressed tone. I sure hope that one has a hidden meaning.
I like to relax. I like to lay down on my bed for hours and stare at the ceiling. I like to sit on my computer for hours and add items to online shopping carts. I am terrified that I am going to be that crazy lady that does nothing and lets her children wander around dirty and wild. What gets me is that there aren't more women like me! Both afraid of being that person, and women that actually ARE that person.
I commend the mommies out there.
I hope someday I can grow up and not be scared of mommyhood.

jealous, squared.

Atleast once a week, she was in my dreams. Atleast once a day, my thoughts would find her. One time, when I came out of a coma, I told the nurses and my mom about her, and what she had done to me. I knew why I hated her, but as much as I wanted to forget about her, I couldn't. Because she would find me in my subconscience. For over a year, I have run from her, and sought after her. I hated her for hating me. I hated her for what she did. I hated her for not forgiving me. I hated her because it was easier than forgiving her.

Finally, I stood up for myself. I got it all off of my chest. I let her know just what I thought of her.
I expected the usual. I expected more contention, from a person who seemed to love contention so much.
I couldn't have been more blindsided by her comeback.
When she apologized, for everything, my heart burst.
The good kind of bursting heart.
When she allowed me to apologize, my heart burst again.
When we were both able to set our pride aside, and forgive eachother, and acknowledge the remorse in the other person, my years worth of hate, and anger, and bitterness, and confusion, and disgust, all went away.

I am so proud of this person, and I am so proud of myself.

Finally, I believe in others.