She was using food stamps! Why doesn't she work? Those are MY tax dollars!

I will never forget it.
I was judging!!!

I watched as she absently scanned 2 lunchables, a carton of Capri-Sun, some individual applesauce pouches, a single serving of some soda product and a pack of mixed nuts. ( do you KNOW how expensive those are?? and how processed those lunchables are anyway??)
Come on, wouldn't it be easier and cheaper to make a couple of sandwiches, have some reusable cups and portion containers and get virtually the same meal?  
Her children were a little disheveled and good god I don't think she ever brushes their hair.
They were also not under control but arguing back and forth.
To be honest it was rather annoying and I thought why doesn't she intervene??
But wonder of wonders, they were on electronics.
They have welfare, but still have money for that apparently.  
She had some kind of Vera Bradley purse herself and was dressed rather nice.
Then she pulled it out.  That food stamp card.  Too bad it wasn't still that fake looking monopoly money they use…
The Divorce Chronicles  Healing Takes Time: 5 things NOT to say
Yes I know.  Don't say it.   "Terra, you share too much."
Well, yes.  Yes I do.  I wear my heart on my sleeve.  For so long I have always done what others told me.  I stuffed things down.  I lived my life for others.  I'm 47 years old (almost 48).  I will no longer live for others.  At least in the sense of trying to please everyone.  I don't have to hid.  I don't have to feel ashamed.  AND, I don't have to agree.

I'm getting ahead of myself a bit. I'll never forget the day I knew my marriage was over.  May 7, 2017.   1 year, 7 months, 10 days, 11 hours, 18 minutes, 30 seconds ago to be precise (at the time I wrote this).   The year before that our marriage almost ended.  There was 'forgiveness' and we moved beyond. 9 months went by.  I thought everything was perfect.  Better than ever. That Sunday all I heard was "I tried so hard.  But I just don't love you the way a man shoul…

Open letter to the man who told I wasn't perfect enough to date.....

I get it.  
I really do.
We all have preferences.  We all need that chemistry or spark.

However there is a difference between having a preference and having a cruel outlook and saying things that do not build others up.
I realize not everyone looks at it that way or has the same outlook.
Yet treating others with just a bit of kindness should be common place. 
There shouldn't be excuses made or even things said like "that's a man for you'.
Why?  Because all men (thankfully) are not the same.

But why does it seem that we may receive 100 compliments, yet can't shake the sadness and hurt from just one negative energy?
Now before you say it, let me do it.
Yes, I know it's within myself to not let what others say about me, hurt or damage my soul.

Let's be real though.  Hurtful words and actions/in-actions of others DO affect us.  It's not that there is blame to place, however while I maybe should not dwell on the hurt, the other person needs to understand ownership of…

Stop saying I'm strong! A journey through divorce and the aftermath.

I so understand the sentiment. 
I get it.
I appreciate the support, love, and concern.
I also know it is not true.
I am not strong.
I am not great.
I am not always doing well.
I'm not always happy.

I hide.
I hide behind a smile.
I hide behind "lies" of I'm doing wonderful.
I hide behind the light of day.
I hide behind "happy" pictures posted on social media.
I hide behind "fun" times.

You don't see all the time I'm alone.
You don't see me embracing the darkness and crying myself to sleep so many nights.
You don't see me on my knees crying and cursing and pleading and making deals & bargains with the God I believe in.
You don't see the loneliness in my heart.
You don't see the endless nights.
You don't see me looking into a future that looks bleak.

Though I know encouragement is just that and can be wonderful.
I also know in the midst of pain it is cliched and trite.

Many of you don't know the depression that ru…

The memories that shape our lives and relationships.

I want to say, walk away.   Keep scrolling.
Do not read this.
Why do I feel compelled to give that warning?
Because of the content.  Because of various worldviews, values, beliefs that every person has.
This post deals with working through the grief and the loss of my father.
This post deals with memories that make me smile.  And how is that bad?  Or wrong?
Well, it is not.  To some it will be.  To me, they are simply endearing memories that made my father, my father.   Memories that helped shaped my love for him, my view of him, and my view of the world.

This post is my reality.   Let me be honest.  This post also deals with "drug" use to some degree.  Pot, MJ, 420, reefer.  Whatever you call it, if you feel that in all circumstances, no matter what, it should never be used then this post will not be for you.

It could cause you to look at me differently.  It could cause you to have your own beliefs challenged.  It could cause you to judge my father as a bad person destined for hell…

Surviving in darkness, reaching for light: The toll of depression.

I would have never even given a second thought that I'd still be battling depression 5 years after originally being diagnosed.
I started treatment and felt great for a couple of years.
Now, I *thought* I was doing well the 3 years after that.  I didn't recognize the slip again.  The slip into depression's waves and tides, the grasp it takes and slowly pulls you down, is often subtle and unnoticed until someone or something makes you take notice.

This has got to be one of the hardest posts I have ever done, one of the most heartbreaking for me.

There was no one moment, one day, one week where suddenly I was swimming in the depths trying to reach the top.  It was a slow dissent.  A thought here, a misread conversation there, an over analyzed look from someone, small situations, all that began eating away at simple sanity again.
I wanted to believe that the first time around, the medication treatment, and the attention to it that my mind was brought to, would 'cure' it an…

Marbles as friends.

I stood at the sink absent-mindedly doing dishes.   A million thoughts running through my head of upcoming doctor visits, blood draws, back to school shopping, grocery lists. 
I'm on auto-pilot as David comes into the kitchen.
DAVID: "Mom, have you seen my marble that was on the breakfast bar?"
ME: "Yes I put it in the basket when I was cleaning."
DAVID: "There it is.  I painted a face on it mom."
ME: "Yeah I saw that!  It was cute."
DAVID: "I did it because I don't have any friends, so I made one."

Then he hurried off back to his room and I began hearing the clank of marbles.
I stopped doing dishes and absorbed what he just head.  My heart broke again for him, my eyes filled with tears and all the issues associated with Autism came flooding back, as it does almost daily.
A feeling of loneliness and friendlessness is common among ASD children.  David is no different.  His social awkwardness drives many away.  He doesn't mean too.  …