Being an adult means sticking to your guns.
Having a backbone but being tactful.
It means fighting for what you believe in and
never backing down.
It means following through and not just talking shit.
Sometimes it means standing up to your friends,
sometimes even hurting them.
But it also means you’ll get hurt
but you have to grow up and realize that some
people are worth more than a petty fight.
It has literally been an infinity since someone wrote here. But my dear friend is just starting out and hopefully she’ll read this and know how much I support her.
When you first start out, it’s scary as hell. You are surrounded by intimidating machines and people who appear to be able to lift the weight of buildings. You feel weak and slightly pathetic for only being able to lift small amounts. But you’re already succeeding b/c you didn’t turn around and walk out.
One day you’ll be able to lift at a weight you never thought possible. Your leg muscles will shake and you’ll want to cry from joy. You’ll feel pain but it will only make you want to keep going, see how hard you can really push. You’ll feel strong and sexy and marvel at the cut of your legs and revel in how your arms look as they lift heavier and heavier.
Some days feeling like this will seem impossible but I’m here to tell you it’s not. Greatness does not mean being the best, but being the one who never gives up.
Tonight I had my first gay club experience: Diva’s.
A rock-solid place filled with protruding beer bellies and a man reading Metro.
A place where they play a steady stream of 90’s hits, including (but never ever limited to) Backstreet Boys, Lady Marmalade and Marky Mark.
This is the place where I met a fantastic group of people tonight including the sassiest, funniest, black women I’ve ever seen.
I also said goodbye to my cousin, J, who is leaving to Floh-ida. Sad time because I was spoiled rotten having him in the same city as me for so long. Upside is that it’s Florida: Blue Jays, Disney World, and Harry Potter Land included in seeing J.
A brief but meaningful update. Now off to Bo-Bo Land because I have a meeting at 9 AM tomorrow. Yikes (but secretly, I love my job)
Stay fresh. S
It is just a bad day. Not a bad life.
Keep going because just when you want to quit is when your body finds a little bit more. And that is miraculous.
It has been my constant companion for 13 years.
It has been my own personal hell.
But somedays I love having it.
We have inside jokes that no one but diabetics would possibly find funny. And they are hilarious. We are sarcastic and sassy and we all struggle. And it is calming to know that I am not the only one who has a high A1c or forgets to poke.
I read a blog where the person asked “if diabetes was cured, what is the first thing you would do?” Most people said take a trip or exercise or eat a crazy amount of food. But not me. I honestly don’t know what I would do. Maybe cry? Feel relief at never having another disorientating low or never having to pay boatloads for supplies every couple of weeks?
I would also feel longing. Longing to have it back because it has defined me for so long. It has always been the one thing I have that is unique. The one thing that has made me who I am. I would miss the way all diabetics are connected to each other, even if they don’t know it. We are a giant family of people who have to try harder and be better at doing something as basic as living.
During the frequent times that I feel completely alone and alienated because no one can possibly understand what I am going through or how bloody hard it is, it is nice to remember that there are so many others like me. I take comfort in that and suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a horrible thing.
I’m so mad at myself. I was fine on my own before, why couldn’t I just let that be?
Relationships are great, you gain a new friend to spend time with, share your interests etc. etc. They are great until you get wrapped up in a trap of crazy emotions.
On my own I didn’t have any distractions. I could concentrate in class, spend weekends alone, and not worry about anything else. Now, I find myself in a warp of emotion missing him every other second, mad at him sometimes, sad during the weeks I can’t see him, and thinking about him constantly.
I hate that I get so, so, so distracted by my emotions. I had control before and now I feel like a mess. Why did that have to change?!
I am my own worst enemy. When I’m with him everything is great, but not seeing him for a mere two weeks is overwhelmingly distracting as I question everything. Yet, when we finally see each other at the end of time apart everything is fine again.
My own fault for wasting my time in between I know.
I guess I am just upset that I have lost my ability to be rational. Neither he or I can control the weather requiring him to stay and work, yet here I am with a impending snowy weekend feeling totally defeated. I have a ton of homework to do, but I know my mind will be useless.
I just want to be rational again.
Sometimes I have a desire to sprint.
Run until my lungs are burning, and my body is going to collapse.
Until I feel extreme pain and exhaustion through my entire body.
To feel alive.
I used to feel that when I danced.
To push myself as far as I could until I was better.
Until my toes were perfectly pointed, my turnout was impeccable and my extensions were snappy.
Or when I used to sing at the top of my lungs while I slammed away on the piano and it felt so phenomenal to not hold back.
Lately I have been missing that feeling of being “alive”
I feel like I am missing parts of me…like I haven’t been myself in forever.
Maybe I am holding myself back….
Or maybe I am bored…
Maybe I am just needing a little adventure.
This is the amount of time that passed between March 30, 2012 and March 30, 2013. It is also the amount of time that has passed since my life changed forever.
It seems like in every conversation about moving, someone always brings up how different I am now. It always seems like I can never shut up about it either.
Maybe I never will. But only I will ever be able to grasp the magnitude of the impact that changing schools and moving had on me. No one would recognize the then from the now as being the same Sarah. One year ago, I was a horrible friend, sister and daughter. I was depressed and sad and unable to figure out why. I longed to stay in bed all day and hide. I went days without talking. Quiet is an excellent description of me but back then I wasn’t quiet, I had collapsed into myself.
There were times last year where I wanted to stop. No heart beat, no eyes opening morning after morning. My biggest fear was that I would remain unchanged. Bad days are a thing of the past now. Everything is brighter and shinier. Every day is full of new, wonderful opportunities and I think it is safe to say, that my mind has healed.
It seems like everyone and their goldfish knows this story so I won’t ramble but I wanted to acknowledge the significance of this one day and its profound effect on my life.
Just saw this article: http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/young-people-who-believe-marriage-should-be-between-a-man-an and I had, had, had to respond. I respect the fact that we are all entitled to our opinions and faith and beliefs but come on! Didn’t any of these people read what they wrote on their cards! Don’t know what is more disturbing: their small-mindedness or their spelling mistakes.
1. You don’t see yourself being with a woman? Good for you! You don’t have to become gay just because others are and want the right to marry who they love.
2. It’s not a deadly sin. They are: lust, pride, greed, gluttony, sloth, envy and wrath. Don’t see ‘being gay’ in there.
3. The sex of your parents is not what makes them good parents. It’s like picking breakfast cereal based on its colour (to quote John Green).
4. You can still love God and be a decent human being.
5. I’m pretty sure God, if he even created humans, didn’t create them for the sole purpose of marriage so it should be irrelevant who is getting married.
6. Stop protesting and go back to class. You used ‘its’ incorrectly.
7. Once again, I doubt it has to be taken this literally. I’m sure God just wants you to honour your parents. They raised you, fed you, put you to bed and loved you. They deserve some respect! Who cares if they both have the same reproductive parts.
8. You’re right. There are men and there are women. Once again, I don’t think marriage was the overall goal.
9. You’re right, we do need parents. And you need a serious lesson in grammar and reproduction. If we are segregated to islands, the last thing on our minds is going to be “who is going to knock me up!” Pretty sure it will go like this: FOOD > SHELTER > FOOD > FIRE > SHELTER > SEX
10 - 13. Bluughh
14. The best of the 20. I’m glad she has some common sense. And what she’s saying may be true: we do need a mother and father figure but that doesn’t mean it has to infringe on the rights of others.
15. Considering this isn’t 1500 AD. and we are no longer in the medieval times, I’m going to assume, regardless of if you find a king and queen, you won’t ever become a princess. And technically, you just need a king to become a princess (or someone to bestow the title). Now get back to history class!
16. The best part is the YOLO. Like that will somehow make up for your ignorance.
17. You’re right. Everyone comes out of a vagina (or Petri dish) but sometimes the person you’re here because of isn’t the person who is parenting you. There’s a difference, learn it.
18. Finally someone clears it all up. We were put on this Earth to marry! (Actually scientists believe human beings evolved with the purpose to reproduce and that monogamy is not the predominant mating system and probably never was.)
19. Actually what we deserve are PARENTS. People who will love us unconditionally, give us a home, feed us good food and buy us the occasional present. It doesn’t have to be so sex specific.
20. What about the people who never have children? What institution is marriage then? Shouldn’t it be a People Who Are In Love-centered institution?
the weekends are the absolute worst
at night especially
no one should be allowed to get this bored
it’s not healthy
all i do is think about how
everyone else is out there
having the time of their lives
and i’m here, being forgotten about
Update: This was a total “pity me” post. And I’m no whiner. It’s something I can control and change so enough with my babyishness.
Life, hand me that remote,
because I want to relive this moment
for the rest of my life.
I want to post this, but I want to be diplomatic, but every time I rethought this and social media avenue I considered, it still seems too…snarky. I considered forwarding this to the opposition party, tweeting Bill himself, and even posting to the Daily Townsman, but no option seems correct. I need to get it out of my system, so until I can decide, here it is:
So happy to see all of the youth in pink shirts yesterday demonstrating leadership and taking a stand against bullying! Too bad our liberal leaders couldn’t do the same. theprov.in/ZLNUNf
@KootenayBill. I wish I could say I was surprised by this article. Your consistent distasteful representation of the East Kootenay is incredibly disappointing. theprov.in/ZLNUNf
I may have realized a new life goal to run Bill out of office…
Bye, bye Bill.
I think the best thing about this week was not just the experience, but hearing all the stories about my grandpa. I never got to see him in action and I love hearing about it. He was and will probably always will be the greatest person and veterinarian I’ve ever known. I wish with every cell in my body that he was still here so he could teach and show me everything he knew.
This week has also shown me I have a high tolerance of the bloody and gory that come along with being a vet. I can deal with decapitating calves, cutting off frozen tongues, or watching blood gush out of a cow’s abdomen.
I love, love, love parasites, and diseases and blood and organs and dead things and finding out why they died. Seeing a canine heart filled with heart worm is my Christmas morning.
Another thing I’ve discovered during this week: I was born to wear scrubs and coveralls and rubber boats. Preferably covered in some sort of bodily fluid and standing ankle deep in blood and placenta.
Back in BC listening to some soft acoustic music, this is my sanctuary.
Looking out at the river I have grown so accustomed to seeing, this place has seen me at my best and my worst.
A year ago today I was struggling to keep my head above water, but being here again I am in a much different place.
I am once again standing on my own two feet, more balanced and forever changed.
The anxiety I have been battling for years has not disappeared, but it seems to have subsided if only slightly.
I feel more grounded and strong, and for me this may be the greatest thing I have overcome.