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all I want is…
…my amazing boyfriend to listen and not cut me off, haahaa!
Now, I 100% LOVE that he told me that all he truly wants is for me to stop crying (I have not cried in many days) but his kind words backfire on him; I now feel even more pressured to put a lid on how I am feeling deep down.
I told him ages ago that I sometimes NEEEEED to just bawl or feel down or blue, and that it goes away, but I think he just wants me to be cookie-cutter perfect and HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!!
Completely understandable but 150% unrealistic given my MS. It DOES control my emotions and without his personal research on the ‘ins + outs’ of this disease, I am at a loss of how to express to him what I need. He is truly my ONE (:D) but…
I am thinking…perhaps a book about this stuff? A detailed website? Medical journal?? *sigh*
Couple’s counseling? hahaha…
If you have suggestions beyond what I mentioned I am all ears (eyes, really…).
Holla at your girl,
Sarah
Living in both denial and a state of sadness…
I have made a fantastic new friend who challenges me as well as inspires me.
Her name is Nicole and she is amazingly open and honest. She has a website that is choc full of heart, honesty and commitment. She is wonderfully strong.
She LIVES with MS and admits her struggles + her joys.
I would love it if everyone would read her posts in depth and take them to heart because, like me, she has gone through every hardship and then some……
I never used to take this illness as seriously as I should have but more and more I am living through losing almost everything I love, need, and cherish.
I filed for ODSP and read all of the medical documents regarding my ‘medical situation’. One said that I ought not to go back to UofT, but if I decided to then i would not be permitted to take more than 1 course at a time. “One course! How insulting!! I am way too smart for that!!” In reality, I nap 2 to 3 times per day, get down and depressed more often than I’d care to admit, and have major trouble walking about and standing up to cook. I order out on a consistent basis and/or buy loads of veggies and fruits so I have a plethora at my disposal.
I am going to take a break from writing for now because i am EXHAUSTED and need another nap.
be back later…
*FATIGUE IS A BLEEEP*
posting briefly while I dye my hair…
i am getting rid of the horrid old orange-y, faded out, dead ends of colour and going back to original: the brown the last dye job was meant to be. Last time i went to the salon and came out orange — this time i am doing it myself in my own bathroom while the cat is staring at me wondering what that smell is!
“No, baby, it definitely isn’t YOU. Not this time…”
Be back to let you know if all my hair fell out….
The day Osama died.
Today I woke up to find out that Osama bin Laden had been captured and killed yesterday, Sunday April 1st, 2011. Pczech and I were debating on dinner locations, and then went forth ion our journey. In Pakistan, US military were putting bullets in a man’s head leaving him dead.
I wish I had any celebratory instincts or gusto in me but alas i do not. How can I celebrate a man’s execution regardless of who they are and regardless of their evil deeds.
One of my aunts (Sita, with whom I was closest to) unwillingly left her 5 year old beautiful daughter and died in Tower 2 of the World Trade Center in New York on September 11th, 2001. I woke up to see that event take place then, and I woke up to hear the news of another death today.
I will NEVER get the live images of the planes crashing into the Trade Center out of my mind, not would I want to. They are a part of me too just as she is.
I desperately wish to erase Osama’s bloody death from it.
Today, the world knows Obama’s victory in the ‘war on terror’; they also know that his victory came by means of an act of violence no matter how rational/justified it was.
In suppose ‘an eye for an eye’ has blinded our world entirely.
R.I.P Auntie Sita Sewnarine
I know you are looking down on us all with your angelic spirit.
p.s. I attend church now lol. You win haahaa! miss you.
❤ Sar
changes need to be made…
…and I want to make them on this here BLOG!!! =D
Now, I would love love love some suggestions on what to do to this thing. I want it to be fem but still crisp and clean, and perhaps have some red or pink, black..I just don’t know! :S Happy?? hmmm…
I love acting, singing, bopping around town, and eating my way through as many restos as possible. I also love love love my main squeeze and would like LOVE to be incorporated in some way….
SO I would like some suggestions because I have little know how and would love to share some pics onto this thing but I don’t know how to do so.
Please tell me what you all would like to see and I will try to please y’all 😉
Bring it if you can 🙂
xoxoxo
❤
Sarah
mini-post…
“I [you] made it clear when the line is drawn but now the line is gone”
that is all for now…
also, after watching the young Prince William get married all royal-like, I do believe I just might be having a crisis…*sigh*.
Thank you #Twitter + TCL…
What a life…
Oh what a whirlwind this life has been.
Since I last posted I have been either kicked out/ran away from my childhood home and into my boyfriend’s home. It was one final night too many between my mother and I. I packed some items and took myself out from the line of fire and into someplace emotionally safer.I’m 26 going on 27 but still…
After my meant-to-be-amazing Wine&Cheese Fundraiser for EWB-UofT (utoronto,ewb,ca) a few weeks ago, I chose to spend the night at Pczech’s. Overnight, things took a drastic change. I woke up to find out that nothing would ever be the same.
I wrote a poem 2 months or so ago about feeling torn between my obligations as a daughter and as a life-partner, that she (mother) misinterpreted. That poem was obviously to be interpreted as you wish but I was 100% not singling her out to be evil or a monster or bitch. She claimed that I am disloyal and untrustworthy because of that and so much more.
After being called a ‘prostitute’, ‘hooker’, and ‘a two-cent whore‘, I knew I had had enough. Oh wait, there is more…She said that I crossed the line by reaching out to one of my aunts and telling her what my mother, the saint, called me over and over again. I was told that I was no longer her daughter and that she’d ensure that I had no more family.
Her siblings were her’s first and I was nothing.
Oh, there is STILL more. She claimed that I called her names online and also stole $300 she had saved from work. All lies… Could I defend myself? Of course nor. Not only that, I am through fighting because it is detrimental to my health.
I write this because I am a mess. I’m hella lucky to have someone who loves me (Pczech) and somewhere to rest and call ‘home’. He loves me and loves calling his little former bachelor-pad ‘our home’, but I must confess, I still feel lost, drained, and deeply saddened. I ought to relax and be grateful and perhaps at peace n feel calm, but alas I still feel like I don’t belong. Being hated by one’s mother tends to make you feel like you don’t belong anywhere. I also write because if not I will keep crying for yet another week.
I went to my GP to seek help for my current state of being – the lack of sleep, failing to take care of myself, not getting out of bed for days and days. She handed me a tissue and showed me out.
Heartbreak had been familiar to me but only when it came to men; mother’s are not supposed to do worse.
You all know that i have MS that keeps getting worse. I was supposed to be in a coma this past Christmas but the docs saved me from that fate. Easter is a few days away and here I am crying over the computer keys praying I don’t have another relapse.
Back to my whiskey sour I go…
peace, love, and happiness to you all,
love, Sarah
someone like you…
…but who is the You I speak of?
I fill my ears and my head with voices that keep breaking my heart but yet I cannot stop.
The noises in my head bang around time and again.
Like pounding rain, they drown out all other sounds, even you beating of your kind heart.
When you’re broken apart you just can’t let people in, not even people like you….
Taking space, taking time, running away from it all…
from you, from her, from me…
the pain in the tears I cry night after night, used to feel like home
but with you is the only home I now want and love.
My pieces don’t fit anymore,
no they don’t seem to fit anymore…
I did my best and I’m leaving now,
I am tired of fighting with my feelings
and using you to catch me as I fall…
Know I love you to death and all I want is all of us
but I can’t keep struggling and the aches are so consuming.
I could give in to you or give into me
and the sorrow I feel deep down.
I don’t always know what I am doing but I am tired of trying all the time….
She’ll never let me go, no
she’d rather see me fail then let me go.
Please know I choose you but right now I must step back into the fold…
reach out and touch me…
P and I went out last night and I had a few too many ‘martinis’.
Why? because I have been drowning my brain in all that is going on at the moment in Libya and I needed a break, and so did he, frankly. I vented to him my frustrations and anger regarding our gov’t and their so-called leader. I just HAD to or else I’d crack.
BUT I really didn’t want to drink or pretend to be happy… wasn’t in the party mood; my heart was breaking into a million pieces…
But, we went out and had a nice time (he loved it, I couldn’t care less).
What I wanted to do was reach out and hold someone out there in the middle east and tell the Libyans who are being terrorized that we care and that we are going to fight for them. Thing is, very few people with any kind of power give a rat’s ass about their strife. They deserve so much better than that!! shit…
I wonder if this was occurring in Canada, would the world be as equally APATHETIC? Would anyone truly care?
P’s thoughts on the argument all revolve around oil and agendas, and ‘why’ any country who claims to care actually does. He has valid points but MY point is always about Humanity and Dignity AND STAYING ALIVE.
T’is better late than never and that we all should never forget that we are all deserving of someone to help us when we cannot do so ourselves. It really doesn’t matter if the people ‘could have, should have, or deserve’ something when it becomes a matter of life and death. I know I would want to be saved or at least remain alive. period.
I use Depeche Mode in the blog title because I played this sing a bunch of times last night, even when we got home. Reach out and touch SOMEONE and be happy that you have the opportunity to do so. Do it While you can, Since you can.
ciao for now…
sarahspov 