White Chocolate Bar

Tomorrow I’m getting my tooth pulled out and getting it replaced for a few months until my mouth is completely ready to get “work done”.

Tomorrow I have a test for my statistics class at the Uni. That is probably the least of my preoccupations right now because, hey, it’s “just an exam”. An easy exam.

Tomorrow I’m meeting my father after 15 years of not seeing him. The man that messed my mother’s life, as well as mine. The one that never bothered to call, or come visit me.

My smile is what gives me a bit if actual confidence in myself. And it may or may not ever be the same. It is pretty and white. Two of my teeth are half porcelain, half bone, and did not have a nerve in them- but they were beautiful teeth (after tomorrow, one of those will not be the same). My smile is my feature. I’m scared to have that taken away… call me vain. Call me stupid. I don’t care.

And I have no intentions on letting my classmates copy my answers again just because “I am sweet and look like I studied” and I am too much of a coward to say back off, but I’m also too much of a coward to let the professor find out and null my test due to fraud and marking negatively my student record. I’m a good student. I am a good student. Or at least I try to be? Call me a smart-ass and an egocentric self serving prick. I just think it is different to share knowledge and help people, than just getting manipulated to give an easy way out to succeed and have your own ass exposed to a possible fire just because you’re too much of an idiot that does not know how to say no.

I am not sure if I will actually be able to look at that man and forgive him in person. I am not sure I will not yell at him for not actually being a father. I have no clue if I will cry when I see him, or if I will want to stick a foot up his ass. I thought I was ready to see him after all these years, but now? Now I’m not sure. I am not a good daughter to my mother, a good granddaughter to my grandma, a good nothing to noone that has tried to be good to me, so why would I be good to the man that was nothing but poison for 15 years? I am not sure if actually seeing him is going to change my mind on forgiving him. I am afraid… not just of meeting him, but of my reaction towards him.

So right now, I guess I will just eat some white chocolate and continue watching Grey’s Anatomy till I fall asleep and wake up at 6 and prepare for the day.

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Tooth Story

Who is the little Gremlin you see as the cover photo for this post? His name is Luke. He is now the size of a chihuahua, fluffy as hell, but can be a mischievous little bastard.

He decided it would be a great idea to jump projectilely towards his mommy’s mouth (my mouth) and hit his head as hard as he could against my teeth.

Why, oh why did you not cover your mouth if you were playing with your dog, you ask? A fluffy dog. The size of a chihuahua. Was calm a second ago. How was I supposed he was aiming my face? How?!

Three. THREE DAYS I waited for the swelling to go down and continue my life eating normally. The third night my mouth became a duck’s beak. I was literally taking Acetaminophen each 30 minutes due to the pain. The fourth day a huge ass swollen-blood-filled-ball appeared on my gums. I had had it. It was Sunday and no dentist was open. So I decided-after avoiding it for so long, I would get checked out the next day first thing in the morning. I would finally go back… to the dentist.

So there I was. Monday morning. Explaining to the doctor what had occurred a few days ago… she took an x-ray and went to her boss to show him. Her boss came, looked at my tooth, moved it, came to the conclusion I needed a TAC. Had it done… And discovered I have no bone. My tooth was chipped thanks to my Gremlin -that’s why the pain, swollen lip and gums, but we would’ve never discovered that my tooth was basically being held by my gums if he hadn’t hit me.

You know teeth are supposed to be surrounded by 4 walls of jaw bone? Well, i had a nerve treatment done poorly on that same tooth years ago (i fell on my face, broke my tooth, killed my nerve), that made the walls for that tooth to wear off over time. If we had not discovered that soon, that tooth would’ve fallen off while talking to my mom, eating a pudding, or kissing my boy.

Two out of four bone walls were gone, one is porous and the last one is fine.

Ten. TEN months to get it fixed. Sadly, there is no way to save that tooth… and will need to completely extract it, transplant par of my jaw bone to where bone is missing, and then get a hopefully durable tooth prosthetic.

But hey, bright side is that maybe, just maybe the tooth fairy will visit again? Well, not the tooth fairy… in latino culture we have the tooth mouse. El Ratón Pérez -Pérez the Mouse.

If it hadn’t been for my mischievous little baby boy, Luke the Gremlin… if he had never projectile-jumped towards my face and chipped my tooth… the situation could’ve been much worse.

So thanks, Luke D.R. … thanks for hitting my mouth, causing a huge ass amount of pain and helping us discover a bigger issue on time.

Pretty

You know what would be great?

If I could be like one of those girls that take pictures of themselves and have many, many thumbs up on social media and get validation by a lot of people because they’re considered beautiful.

If I could be one of those young women that get hated on and criticized for being proud of their perfect hourglass figure, and posting pictures of themselves in a bathing suit.

I would even love to be one of those girls that share a picture of themselves in a simple sweater and sweet smile, and instantly get validation from everyone due to their sense of style and pretty face.

But I was born “normal” -there is nothing that makes me stand out from the crowd. I tend to be very awkward in photos, and rarely have people comment on my appearance other than my family.

And I know it is dumb, and I shouldn’t be looking for people’s approval of my looks. I’m aware I may seem ungrateful with who I am. But for once, it would be nice to know what it feels like to be like one of the pretty girls in school. What it’s like to be noticed when you enter a room. And what it’s like to be confident in yourself.

15 years later

After 15 years of hating my own father, and not wanting to contact him, I finally grew a pair and gave him a call.

I didn’t say much – I just cried on the phone.

He sounded so -American. That typical US accent with no latino in his words whatsoever. I had forgotten his voice. And his wife’s voice too. I was so nervous I forgot how to pronounce my own name, or have a decent conversation in English heh.

I hated him -he was not a great husband to my mom, and was an absent dad.

No need to go into details… at least not today. (Still processing all of this)

I told him how much resentment I felt against him. But I also told him the good things my mother told me about him. Because I didn’t want him to have the wrong impression of me. And didn’t want to rub his mistakes on his face after all these years.

It’s not like I was going to call him and say “hey, i know we haven’t spoken for many years. But just wanted to call and say you’re a real piece of shit and I hope you die”. Maybe I used to fantasize saying that to him… but truth is, it’s not healthy to live on hate.

Hate is poison. And it’s only poisoning yourself.

He stated he had made so many mistakes he would like to fix, but can’t. And said he would like to meet me -to which I said yes.

Of course I want to meet my own father. Get to know him and try to build a real father-daughter relationship.

He said he was not prepared for my call even though he has prayed for that moment with his wife and said that he will try to make things up.

We exchanged phone numbers and emails and are currently writing to each other and catching up. Maybe he will eventually come to my country and we can finally meet.

I thanked him for giving me time to finally call him, and finally feel at peace with him and myself.

It feels weird… in a good way.

Mom says “everything in God’s time”… I’m not a believer but maybe she’s right.

Untitled

Have you looked at yourself in the mirror and actually feel happy with what you see? Have you ever checked yourself out and said “you look good!”… Maybe not because you actually look good in that precise day, maybe you just woke up and look like a mess… but you feel good; therefore you look at yourself and genuinely think “hey, good-looking piece of heaven!” and proceed to take a shower, brush your teeth, and then do whatever you do in the day?

How’s that feel? How’s it feel to love yourself? How’s it feel to smile and mean it? How’s it feel to look at yourself at the mirror, and being able to look at yourself in the eye? Or look at yourself without feeling deep disgust?

How’s it feel?

The voices are still there… the ones that keep telling me I’m not good enough. The ones that constantly yell how I will never be loved. How everyone will eventually leave. Will they ever stop? Is it part of growing up? Is it just part of the metamorphosis “growing up” is?

How does it feel to be sane? I’m aware not everyday is a good day. I acknowledge the “ups and downs of the roller coaster” life is… but how does it feel to have a good day, and that your own mind doesn’t later destroy that moment by reminding you that you’re worthless.

I’ll tell you what losing your mind each day feels like… if you explain how it feels to be “OK”.

Nursing school

So, guess who’s in nursing school?

Long story short, wasn’t allowed to study art, hated CISCO, like helping people -let’s become a nurse.

Yes, there is a longer explanation but let’s leave that for another day.

Hey!- I’m back!

What has this girl been up to? Nothing much, really… painting a few show-related-commissions for friends -and earning around $10 for each fan-art I’m asked for, whoop whoop!

I’ve also been sleeping, eating and pooping.

Yesterday was my first day of nursing class. It was fun. Well, we didn’t actually have a nursing related class. Let me explain:

A class called “techniques of investigation“, To which the professor stated he was highly worried why nurses did not have enough recognition in the scientific world, thus we need to learn how to research, study and then publish our own papers and become recognized as not just a doctors assistant, which has been a dispute since for ever, and we, the “millenials” are the ones to change that for the nursing and scientific community.

Then, there was a class called “history and philosophy of nursing“. This, tall, serious, very big dude came into class and said basically none of us have what it takes to make it. He then explained “you get to class late 3 times? That’s an absence. You’re absent thrice? You loose the course. Don’t pay attention to my class?? You loose the course. You don’t bring homework, or fail my weekly quizzes? You loose the course. And if you loose my course? You’re an idiot because this is the easiest course you’re getting while studying how-to-become-a-nurse”

He was nice…

I now have my first project due in a week, and made 2 new acquaintances. Slowly getting out of my shell, wohoo…

Next class is statistics, and anatomy. Gotta also sign up for solid wastes course aaaand the one about how-to-poke-someone-with-a-needle-without-harming-the-person (yes, inyections and all that jazz)

I’m quite excited, scared, and not sure what to expect.

And I’m absolutely sure this is not going to be easy…but I’ll make it.

So expect many rants about my class, also expect no posts for a while because maybe I’m in finals, and expect updates from time to time on this journey called university.

Wish me luck, and I salute you all.

Forgiveness

My mother attempted suicide a few weeks ago, and was rapidly diagnosed with PTSD due to two very traumatizing marriages. Yes. Two. Two different marriages. Two different years. Two different men. Same result.

She's always been very judgmental regarding people with mental disorders such as being bipolar or depressed such as myself -she was literally embarrassed of even admitting I am a bit mentally unstable and need medication. But as soon as she finally accepted she had a problem as well (after…the incident), she started to understand it can happen to anyone and not because you want to "get some attention".

I'm currently trying to forgive her. Not because she constantly asks for forgiveness for previously not understanding what being constantly sad, to the verge of fucking insanity and desire to succeed in suicide attempts… but because I need to heal the anger I feel towards her.
Because everyone told her to be careful. Everyone advised her to think better, to be cautious with her decisions… and what did she do? She just stomped on all of us, did what she wanted… and was not able to face her consequences. I'm trying to forgive her because she left her family for a man that did not treat her well. I'm trying to forgive her, for letting herself get lost in an extremely abusive relationship, again.

And I'm trying to forgive myself, for not being able to be the best daughter I should be, and being the best support a mother can get in situations like these. I'm trying to forgive myself for not knowing how to act correctly.

Blue Sky 

First off, i must thank Mr Hushhush for liking my blog enough to tag me on a challenge. I may also add, you may want to follow this dude: he’s got really good posts about personal matters, that are actually quite relatable and worth reading.

So, after reading these questions I’m about to answer, check this guy’s blog out!

 1. Why do you blog?

Why not? Heh…

Well, I’m not quite a talker -so this is a fun way to express myself to random people and pretend people actually care about what I have to say.

2. What is your favorite topic to write/read about?

Favorite to write: don’t have a favorite… I think.

Favorite to read: I’m a horror junky. I also like reading about depression, suicide, eating disorders, mental illness in general… traveling, comedy and food (even though I’m completely inept at cooking… but reading about cooking recipes makes me feel like I actually will cook someday)

 3. Are you happy in this moment of your life?

Define “happy”

 4. Are you in love?

Yes. Very. It’s a great feeling -even though sometimes you want to throw your significant other (or yourself) from a bridge.

 5. How do you cope when feeling lost or empty?

Fun fact. I never actually coped -until i turned 18.

I have a history of suicide attempts, due to feeling lost and empty.

Now I just sleep. Or sometimes play Zelda because Zelda is love. Zelda is life.

 6. What’s a special memory you often flashback to?

IMy grandpa had forgotten who I was for about three years, due to a series of medical issues. He was at a nursing home since we could no longer take care of him, and couldn’t afford a stay-at-home-nurse. On Christmas eve, 2012, i was taking him back to his room from lunch. Nurses helped grandma and me put him in his bed. He looked at me right in the eyes, and said “gracias, mi chiquita. La quiero mucho” (thank you, my little girl. I love you very much). I was the only one in the house to which he called that way. He had remembered me.

That was the first moment in years he had remembered me, and it was the last time he would before he past away.

 7. What are you looking forward to?

Saturday, 4:30. That’s when I go back home from class.

8. Do you see an overall goal in life you’re hoping to reach? If so, what?

A small house, and a happy family consisting of my husband, a big dog, a small dog and a cat.

 9. What is your biggest fear and how do you rationalize it?

I was actually thinking about this when I was taking a shower. My biggest fear is myself. I’m not sure why, or how to rationalize it…

I just, live in constant fear or myself

 10. If you could recommend a book to me, what would it be?

TWIST BY DELPHINE BERTHOLONE

 11. If you could give advice to your younger self, what would it be?

Breathe. Life gets harder. You will get stronger. Love yourself. Be the best version of you. Don’t get that software technical degree. Be patient. You are smart, capable and pretty. Embrace who you are.

Thank you for reading, hope you might learn new things from me.

Check out this blog, whose write was kind enough to want to ask me these things (and gave me the perfect excuse to write tonight)

Sweet irony 

Disclaimer: Karma is a bitch.

You’re complaining about the same things I complain. Difference? You’re 47, but you’re acting like a teenager -I am a teenager. (19… still counts as teen -technically a young adult, but you get the point). Oh, and grandma? She’s 75 and suffers dementia.

You’re going through your second divorce now. You married another aggressive piece of shit who never treated you as a girlfriend/wife/human, and who had again the enough balls to be unfaithful to you countless times, call you names, harrass and control you for 5 whole years. Despite the warnings your own mother, brother, and daughter gave you.

Two times, the same thing. Let’s not count your ex boyfriends… but you blame them. You blame all men, instead of blaming your inability to recognize a good from a bad man. 

You complain about your mom not understanding or supporting you. You complain about her asking you for money for some extra support, and that all she thinks about is making you feel bad about yourself. You complain about her criticizing everything you do. 

How many times have you downgraded me? Want me to remember the night you called me a whore? Want me to remind you when you said you wished you had an abortion, or left me with my dad? Want me to remind you how you stated I’m useless and can’t do shit in life? Or the time you kicked me out of my house, and then called me on New Years saying you were going to kill yourself if I didn’t come back?

But hey, everyone but you is a bad person. You’re the only one with problems. You have so many problems, you explode on your own daughter and use her as your sand bag. And when she says to please stop, now she’s the enemy too.

You say grandma is going to die alone… and that you’re afraid of ending up the same. She won’t die alone, don’t worry about her.

The only one that will die alone is you, because you can’t chose correctly who to be with, you push your own family away, and blame anyone else but yourself.

Dead Fly

Disclaimer: This is a rant – and the title has absolutely nothing to do with the content

I’m in the middle of collapsing. I’m not sure if I’m crazy and just overreacting about dumb things that shouldn’t actually affect me.

I’m afraid of being alone. And I’m afraid of leaving everything behind and not get anything better. I’m afraid I’m taking things for granted, or maybe that I’m just putting them all on an altar and think that if I loose them, I’ll lose everything and everyone and even myself.

Maybe I have already lost myself?

Why don’t I trust anyone? Why can’t I trust I won’t be left alone or betrayed?

Not all men are the same -or so they all say.

Why can’t I even trust myself? Why do I just constantly doubt myself and capabilities? Why am I so afraid of my surroundings?

I’m not that stupid, nor unable to make something out of my life… right?

Im worthy of being loved, and going out, and doing normal people’s stuff. I’m worthy of having friends, and going out from time to time to drink (responsibly) and smoke with friends -not just get drunk at home until I fall asleep with tears soaking my pillow -unnecessary info? Ugh.

I hate who I am, and I’m not sure who I’ll become… 

Wait -who am I?

Shit.