When it comes to writing, writing about myself seems to be hard for me. I'm
exactly sure why. I don't want this about me page to a list of facts. I want
this to be a short biography. Putting myself out there. Telling you my life
story up to this day. It's not all butterflies and daisies. I've had a few
things go wrong in my life. Some things that were completely my fault and a
couple things that I had no control over. I do use a few terms in this bio that
some of you may not understand. Those terms are in bold. Just put your cursor
over it and a small window will pop up with the definition. For those of you who
are on a phone or tablet. I don't know how it will work. Try clicking on it. If
that doesn't work, Google it.
I was born in Fresno California on December 31st, 1984. I was given the name
Kristina Elizabeth. Fresno wasn't that big when I was born. The crime rate
wasn't too bad. Like every city in the world, it's grows over the years and the
crime grows. Fresno is no exception. As the neighborhood my family lived in grew
and became cluttered, my parents grew unhappy. The crime grew and they became
concerned about my brother and I. It's was summer of 1992, I had just finished
the first grade. My parents wanted to move out of the city. We stayed in Fresno
County, but not inside Fresno. We moved to Caruthers. Lots of cows and lots
vineyards, and tree. It was the country. Home of a roadside treasure. The gas
station off Highway 41 with the WWII fighter plane above the gas pumps. The
QuickStop. It's a landmark that's been there since the 50's. But you have to be
careful. If you blink at the wrong time, you'll miss it.
|QuickStop Mini Mart
||Caruthers Fair Grounds
|The Walk Up
||Mr. G's Country Store
For such a small town with no stop lights only stop signs. There was a few
places to eat, a few places to shop, a library. We even have Fairgrounds. Which
I believe is the ONLY free Fair in the area. There's an Elementary School and a
High School. I attended both. I graduated from both. Not too much went on here.
Just the regular daily grind of farmers and whatnot. It was great here really.
Others may say different, but for me, I loved it. Went on with my normal kid
life. I ran track, I had good grades, I had friends. Everything was amazing,
until December 1st, 1996.
|Valley Children's Hospital
||Valley Children's Hospital
This year of my life was anything but ordinary. What's odd about this point of
my life, is that I can remember it like yesterday. Like I said, I ran track in
school. It was during practice. I fell and It felt like I had twisted something
in my left knee. I told the coach and I went to the office and called my mom to
come pick me up. The next morning, my knee was swollen and bruised. She decided
to take me to the local Health Clinic in town. He looked at my knee and squeezed
it and all kinds of different things. He said it felt like a pulled muscle.
Nothing he could about it. I had to rest it for a week or so and would go back
to normal. After a few weeks, my knee didn't get any better. My mom took me back
to the Health Clinic and this time he recommended I go to the hospital for
x-rays. The next morning. December 1st, 1996. My mom took me to Fresno Community
Hospital for x-rays. When the technician came out with my x-rays in a big yellow
envelope he tells my mom, I contacted the
OncologyOncology is a branch of medicine that deals with the prevention, diagnosis and treatment of cancer. Department at Valley Children's and they are expecting you. Go now. Don't wait
until in the morning.
|Me, Brother, Dad, 1988
Due to some family history on my mom's side, she knew what the word Oncology
meant. Me on the other hand. I was an eleven year old kid. I had no clue. All I
knew was, I was sick. I was admitted to Valley Children's Hospital the second I
walked into the building. They hooked me up to an IV machine that had yellow
stuff pumping into me. They said it was medicine. I was sick. I was diagnosed
OsteosarcomaOsteosarcoma: A type of bone cancer that begins in the cells that form bones.. The yellow medicine. Was
ChemotherapyChemo: A category of cancer treatment that uses one or more anti-cancer drugs as part of a standardized chemotherapy regimen.
. It makes you extremely sick. Your hair falls out. All of it. Eyebrows,
eyelashes, under arms. Anywhere your body has hair was gone. Your immune system
is basically nothing. I couldn't be around anyone who was sick. I couldn't even
go back to school. When you have no immune system, and you get sick. You can
die. Chemo kills everything. Including the good stuff in your body that you
need. It causes tooth decay and it causes infertility in both, men and women. By
the end of the first month, my weight was around 80 pounds. Maybe even less. You
puke literally every hour on the hour. At least that's how it was for me. I
learned to eat simple food that wasn't so bad the second time around. This was
my life for a year. I would go to the hospital on Monday, go home on Friday, and
repeat. Minus the first month. The first month I was heavily treated. I was
there the whole month. They did let me go home for Christmas, but the 26th I had
to go back. I didn't get to go home for my birthday. But the nurses did get me a
cake. This cake was big enough to end hunger. It was so big. They even bought me
birthday gifts. My Barbie collection that year was pretty impressive. Barbie had
a mansion, she had a horse, and she had her Ken, and her Skipper, and her car,
and a wardrobe of the rich and famous.
|Broviac (Hickman Line)
||I Save Money On Socks
January 1997, options and decisions were made. One, I had a
biopsyBiopsy: Examination of tissue removed from a living body to discover the presence, cause, or extent of a disease. done on my knee. Two, I got a Broviac (Hickman Line) put into my chest. It's a
semi-permanent IV. These two things were all done in the same surgery. With a Broviac, you have to be extremely careful. As you can see in the photo above,
it's two lines coming out of your chest and it can easily be pulled out with a
good tug. It can also get infected very easily. Which I did find out later that
year. The broviac wasn't an option to decide on. Just about everyone who has
chemo treatments or any treatment that's weekly, your doctor will most likely
put one of these things in you. The biopsy on the other hand. Wasn't good. At
all. The cancer had grown from four inches above my knee, down to my knee joint
and basically exploded. Option one. Remove the rest of the bone and put in a
metal rod. Con, I wouldn't be able to bend my knee. Option two.
AmputateAmputation: The removal of a limb by trauma, medical illness, or surgery.
the leg four and a half inches above the knee. Con, I would have to learn how to
walk again. Option three. Do nothing. Con, I die. Not one option is good enough,
and I'm sure my parents wished for a brighter option. But there wasn't one. My
parents chose option two. Amputate the leg. My doctor wanted me to do a few more
rounds of chemo before this surgery. Then a few days later came and told us that
my surgery was set for February 14th at 6:30 am. This was an eight hour surgery.
They gave me an epidural and put me to sleep and did it. This part I don't
remember. I'm glad I don't. But somewhere within those eight hours, my epidural
wore off. So when they woke me up in the recovery room, I was screaming in pain.
My mom told this. I remember getting the epidural and I remember waking up in
ICU. For some odd reason, all I wanted to eat was Froot Loops. I literally ate
them every day, all day, for about four months. I'm not exaggerating this. I was
in the ICU for two weeks. After I was transferred back into normal room on the
cancer floor, I met an awesome man named Gavin. He was the one who made my leg
for me. All three of them. And yes, I was fitted that soon after surgery to get
my leg made. I wasn't casted for it right away. But he did do measurements and
he put this thing on me called a shrinking sock. Basically to shrink my residual
limb. Skinny residual limbs get better fitting
prostheticsProsthesis: An artificial device that replaces a missing body part, which may be lost through trauma, disease, or congenital conditions.
. Now here's the odd part about having one leg. Your brain will never realize
that your leg or your arm is gone. Example, I can flex certain muscles in my
residual limb and it feels like my knee is bending or my toes are wiggling.
Here's the even more odd part. I can feel the toes move where my foot should be.
Weird right? I feel my leg there. I sit down and I can feel my foot on the
floor. The best way to describe what my leg feels like is, the numb tingling
feeling you get when your foot falls asleep. That annoying feeling is what I
feel every day. It's odd and sounds non believable, but it's true.
|5 Year Old Me.
I was doing really well for a few months, then all the sudden I got extremely
sick. My temperature was 108. Remember when I said when you get sick with no
immune system you can die? I was at that point. I remember ice baths and thick
heated blankets. They eventually found the problem. My Broviac had got infected.
I didn't mention how they work. It's a line that goes into the main vein,
straight to your heart. So, that infection was pumping through my body faster
than a normal person. I was fine and then I wasn't in about 2 minutes flat. I
remember that, and I vaguely remember the car ride. Again, I wake up in ICU with
an IV in each hand and one in my arm, and my Broviac was gone. They had me on
pretty strong antibiotics, which is why I was in the ICU. I had to be completely
separated from everyone else on the cancer floor. They didn't want me to infect
anyone else who was doing chemo. After they finally got rid of the infection and
my charts looked pretty good I went back into surgery to have another central
line put in. This time I got one called a Mediport. Which is in the chest still.
But instead of two lines coming out, it was this small little round thing under
my skin. This is probably what I should have gotten in the first place. The risk
of infection and it pulled out was a lot lower. It almost never happens.
Obviously. It's under the skin completely cover and safe. I finished up that
year of chemo and in February 1998 I was put into remission and I was sent home.
I still had to stay away from people for awhile while my immune system built
back up to normal. Once that happen, I was able to go back to school.
|Caruthers Elementary School
||Caruthers Elementary School Rally
When I finally was able to go back to school, I was so excited. I missed a whole
year. I missed my friends, I missed my teachers. I actually missed everything
about it, so I was happy to be going back. Now, at this point I was still bald,
I was still skinny, I was still going to a physical therapist every Friday to
learn to walk on my prosthetic. It was against dress code to wear hats to
school, but in my case, it was just fine. I was walking with crutches. Everyone
knew I had one leg. Everyone was prepared for it. I still had my group of
friends. They occasionally asked me to take my leg off so they can hold it while
we were in the bathroom. This happened all the way through High School. But
being back at school turned out to be a little harder than I thought. I always
had one of my friends carry my tray at lunch, and they never mined. They wanted
to help. I was always last to go into class and last to leave. I was on
crutches. I didn't want to trip anyone. Again, I always had one of my friends
stay behind with me. I had one friend who always stuck safety pins into my leg.
We had a new kid and I was like, check this out! After that, my friend would do
it. She didn't care. This goes back to the whole, my brain will never register
my leg being gone. I can feel it when someone touches it. No matter where. I get
a tingling feeling. My friends knew this, and they would poke at it and ask if I
can feel it. Now! The safety pin did not hurt. I fell it like a normal tingle.
Not a pain. But sometimes I'd be like, OW! What the hell? Just kidding. I had to
get a rise out of them. Hard parts.... Just before I trailed off. Food....
Check. Last in.... Check. The new kids and the older kid who should know better.
Bullies. Yes, I got bullied and I got called names. Stuff like, I could work at
IHOP and my name tag would say I lean. Today I use that joke to make fun of
myself. With a long list of other one leg jokes. The thing was. I knew It would
happen. I knew I couldn't stop it. That wound of losing my leg was still fresh.
Those jokes that I find funny now, hurt so fucking bad. Yes, I said, fucking. I
had one friend in particular. She was a tomboy and she was mean as hell, and I
loved her to death! She was my protector in a way. She could throw a punch and
she could take one. She didn't care. She was like this with all her friends, not
just me. She knew the jokes hurt and she stood up for me. I mean, what could I
do? I say something back and they can just bump me and I'd fall over. Over time,
the comments just went in one ear and out the other. You want to think you look
cool calling a disabled girl baldy. Fine. You do you and trust this.... You
didn't look cool. You looked ugly, petty, and pathetic. There's a saying, if you
throw a plate on the floor and it brakes, will saying I'm sorry fix the plate?
Let that saying sink in. Do you understand now? Do you understand the scars it
creates? Not only did this affect me, it affected my brother. He was the
freshman in High School with the one legged, bald headed little sister. My
brother has always been a big guy. Very quiet. Mean as hell when you piss him
off. He heard you guys. What happen when he heard you? He got suspended for
fighting, didn't he? Like I said, over time I just shrugged it off. Nothing I
can do about it. The following year was better. I was in eighth grade and most
of the other kids don't pick on the big kids. I had short hair that I could do a
little something with. I wasn't on my crutches anymore. Normal kid who walked
with a limp.
|Caruthers High School
||Caruthers High School Football Field
High School! What can I say about High School? Same shit, different school. It
actually wasn't too bad. I had the same set of friends, which was good. We all
got reunited with the friends who were older. We made new friends who came from
different middle schools. For the most part, we all stuck together and had each
others backs as usual. I was a tech nerd and a band nerd. This is how I built
this website. But High School was different. Ears everywhere and stories got
twisted. I've had girls come up to me crazy, why are you talking shit about me?
What did I say? My hair is nappy. I have no problem kicking your ass. I beat up
girls like you. Disabled girls? Are you disabled? Yeah, I sure am. *lifts up
pant leg* The one leg saved me from random fights a number of times. I guess no
one wanted to be that person who beat up a disabled kid. So I milked it. A lot.
As for being bullied about it. It never happen in High School. Not that I was
aware of anyway. When I fell down people laughed. But they laughed at everyone
who fell down. I'm sitting her trying to think of something exciting that happen
in High School. The only thing that really happen was I drove a cool car that
all the boys wanted to drive. It was a 1964 Chevy pick up. My dad built it
himself. It was beautiful. It was a pain in the ass in the winter because it
would not stay running long enough to warm up. My mom had to sit in it and keep
it running while I got ready for school. You had the rich kids who drove brand
new cars, the middle class kids who drove used cars or their parent's car, then
there was me. I drove a truck my daddy built. I lost my virginity in High
School, like most kids my age did. Is that too much information? No. It was....
Surprisingly good. It was not his first time, but it was mine. He and I grew up
together basically and it wasn't weird at all. We are still friends and we still
talk. Everyone else says their time was quick and weird, and they never looked
at the guy again. I actually didn't really date in High School. I think I had
four boyfriends my entire High School years. The guy I had sex with. Wasn't even
my boyfriend. He was with someone at the time. But we dated after, and we stayed
together for a while. My whole Junior year to be exact. I was pretty mellow. I
didn't go and party on the weekends. I didn't drink or anything like that. I
wasn't a loser and I defiantly wasn't popular. Just your middle of the pack kid
trying to make her way out of High School.
||Senior Year With The Other Band Geeks
Senior year wasn't too exciting either. It was pretty busy actually. From
picture days for the yearbook to college testing, to slacking off and doing
nothing. I was part of the yearbook club my senior year. I also was in
Leadership. Still in band. Which wasn't good anymore. Our old teacher was fired
and every replacement just wasn't as good as him. Here's the thing. Our football
team and band were in the top 5 of the valley. When class of 2003 graduated, the
football teams after haven't been as good. Band was cut completely. Ask anyone!
There was one thing that a handful of people did in High School. Including me
once or twice. The High School has this fountain in the front. You can see it in
one of the photos above. Well, us students enjoyed throwing bubbles in it. Come
to school the next day and the bubbles would be higher than the fence and going
into the street. A sandwich baggy filled with Dawn dish soap never failed to
impress. Morning announcements would include, please stop putting bubbles in the
fountain. Other than bubble mountains Senior year flew right by. I blinked my
eyes and it was over. Some of the staff were surprised when I told them I wasn't
going to walk in the graduation ceremony. I don't know why I chose not to. I
just knew I didn't want to. I got my diploma the day before and I was done. Bye
High School, hello college.
|Fresno City College Library
||Fresno City College Administration Building
I was accepted to go the Fresno State because of my English testing scores.
However, I didn't get a scholarship because my overall GPA wasn't high enough.
Fresno State wasn't for me. It's a big college and I wanted something smaller.
This is why I chose to go to a city college. English major with a side of
American History. Just about everything I've done in English, even from
Elementary School has always been praised. I had a knack for writing for a
really long time. One page essays were always two pages. I tend to go into as
much detail as I can. Which always worked out for me. Before I went to college,
I took a year off and did nothing at all. I felt like I need a break I guess.
Once I did get enrolled, for some reason when I took my prerequisite test for
college my English section was not good. I didn't start at basic English, but I
also wasn't where I wanted to be. These English classes I had to take were
incredibly easy. I'd be the first one done with my tests and my class work, and
the teacher would look at me like I was crazy and just writing whatever down.
One day my teacher asks me, why are here and not in 1A? I didn't test high
enough. She always gave us assignments for topics that the school newspaper were
researching. I guess you can say we were the writers of the paper. If our paper
was picked, we got a gift card or a shirt. Nothing really good. The one thing I
regret is how I did my schedule. I had all my English and Writing classes in the
morning and my History class was at night and it was three hours long. I wanted
to be able to go home and take a nap. I learned my lesson. The following
semester all my classes were in the afternoon. No morning classes, no night
classes, and one Saturday class. It was perfect. I got to sleep in and go to bed
a decent time. That was my daily grind for almost three years. I was close to
meeting all my perquisites for my Bachelors. Bachelors in English. I worked hard
and filled my schedule. English this and English that. I was on my game. I
didn't have time to waste really. Well, I did. But I didn't want to. 2007 going
into 2008 was my year. Or years. I was so close to my BA I could taste it. BA I
could transfer with a scholarship to a State College and get my Masters. That's
what I going for. That's what I worked so hard for. Then out of nowhere, I met
someone. On Facebook. He found me through a mutual friend we had on there. I
don't even remember meeting the guy. I probably thought he was cute and sent him
a request. But this guy I met was a nice guy. Up until we got married in 2008.
He was a different man. I lost all my friends. I lost.... Everything. I dropped
out of college in the middle of a semester. I didn't want any to see what he
done to me.
||Before The Storm
This part of my life, I've kept locked up tight. I was ashamed. Ashamed that I
let myself become a victim of domestic violence. He was a good guy. I'll give
him that. He had a job and he provided. He's a good father and I took care of
his son like he was my own. There were anger issues throughout our relationship
before we got married. I never thought twice about them. They never lasted long
and they weren't too bad. They didn't make me see red flags. My mom on the other
hand. When I told her his name, she got wide eyed at me and had me call him. She
wanted to talk to him. She knew exactly who he was before I even knew him
completely. No, she didn't date him or anything like that. It's a family history
thing. She knows a few people in his family and she basically told me to stay
away from him but didn't tell me why. She said I had to ask him. That's what I
did. I mentioned the names my mom told me, and ask why do I need to know these
names and what do they have to do with you. He said, your mom knows way too much
about me and my family, but I'm not like them. I believed him and I let it go.
Mistake number one. When he asked me to marry him, his mom sat down with me
while he was at work. She asked me if I was absolutely sure about this. Then she
told me why she wasn't with his dad anymore and asked if I sure about this
again. Mistake number two. We got married. His mom refused to go. Not because of
me. But because of him. She didn't believe in the marriage. She knew what was
going to happen. Everything changed when we got married. The secrets came out.
The drugs he was doing the whole time we were together. The women he was still
talking to behind my back. His past, his families past. I told him no. I'm done.
I'm leaving. I was packing my things and he back hands me in the mouth. I backed
down. I unpacked my bag and I stayed. I believed I was safe if I just stayed.
Mistake number three. This went on for over a year. I was being hit and beat
over nothing. It got worse when he went to jail. That was my out. But I didn't
leave. He lost his job and we barely had money. He had habits he didn't want to
let go. My money supported that. When it really should have been going to rent
and food, my car payment. No car, behind on rent, and electricity, and very
little food. I made sure his son ate what little we had. I didn't care if I
didn't eat. He was high all day and night and never ate. I woke up one day and
had enough. By this point I hated him. I was leaving and I didn't care what he
did to me. I didn't care about my clothes or my things. They can be replaced. It
was a perfect time. His son was at his grandma's house. He wouldn't see this one
last fight. I had to become just like the person I despised to survive. I fought
back. He said I don't need a woman who is going to hit on me like that. And just
like that, he was gone. I was Standing in a house with no power and no food.
Shit thrown everywhere and I'm thinking to myself, all I had to do was punch him
a few times? That's really all it took. He left me and he did not come back. I
was so confused. I laughed at myself for over an hour. The whole time I thought
I was the weak one. Mistake number four. I thought I was the weak one.
|During The Storm
||After The Storm
I was lost for awhile. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to go back to
school, but I wasn't quite ready. I wasn't ready to be around hundreds of people
on a daily basis. I was scared. My self-esteem was just about nothing. I
eventually found an online college that would take my credits I've already
learned and I was able to continue with my BA. Unfortunately, because I dropped
out of college mid term I lost my financial aid. This is because all my classes
got marked as fail. To keep getting financial aid you have to keep a good GPA.
Getting financial aid back was pretty hard. Almost impossible because I was no
longer a single person. I was married. I tried every way to fill out these forms
and still was denied. I eventually lost my SSI because I was married. My life
was at a stand still. I couldn't get a job because one. I had no car. Two, most
places won't hire a disabled person. I applied for online jobs as web design,
and blog writer. Nothing. Zip. The only way I could move forward and get my
money back was to file for divorce. How can I do that when I have no clue where
my husband was? I living back home with my parents and they helped me out money
wise the best they could. I was able to drive my mom's car when I needed to. I
talked to lawyer after lawyer, for divorce advice, and how to get my disability
payments back. It was a struggle. Eventually, I got a call from a.... I guess
some sort of police officer. My husband was wanted for drugs and theft. He was
stealing credit card information and printing out checks. She not only called
me, she called my mom, my brother, one of my aunts, and my grandma. She was
looking for him. First, she played bad cop, telling me all these charges were
going to fall on me. Then I told her the truth, we are not together anymore, he
beat me daily and when I fought back he left. I also told her I been looking for
him myself because I needed a divorce. I told her I'd give her the names and
numbers I had in an old phone he left behind. That was the best I could do. Then
she played good cop and was very sorry about my marriage and what I had gone
through. He was eventually found. He was arrested in Utah for driving with
expired tags I think it was. It was something stupid. But he was sent back here
to California. The nice cop lady was kind enough to tell me he was in the county
jail and this would be the best time to serve him divorce papers. I did, and the
divorce was denied because the property and assists page was blank or missing. I
didn't fill that page out because there were no assists or property. There were
no kids, nothing. The divorce should have been simple. I wanted nothing from
him, just out of the marriage. I said to hell with it. I paid for my online
college credit per credit with my parents help and I finally got my disability
back. I was able to prove to the disability judge that I have been separated for
over a year and he reinstated my payments with a nice back payment amount. It
was enough to pay for a full semester and get a nice used car. Back on track.
|My Awesome Dad
||Daddy's Girl For Life
I was back on track. Still married. But I was okay with it. Back to my
schooling. It was going slower than a normal campus college. I got things done
faster it seemed. Maybe I just wasn't full on into the online college yet. It
felt slower even though the webpage said half the time as a normal school. It
was okay. It gave me time to fix myself. I wasn't the same person after I got
married. I still felt like a weak person. An ugly woman. And everything in
between. My friends. The same group of friends from High school. They helped me
get back to my normal self. From taking me out to a bar, to just coming over to
keep me company. One friend would actually stay the night and just cuddle my bed
while I cried myself to sleep. Slowly but surely, the old me was coming back. I
was the pure joy, weird ass, no filter, fuck your opinion, person. I never took
life too seriously. But the life lesson I learned from being married, was a
lesson I shouldn't have needed to learn. But it's good I did. I saw myself as
weak. When I was actually strong. I thought all the bad stuff was behind me.
Until my dad started losing weight. I took a trip to NoHo. North Hollywood. I
was there for a week and when I came home, he was noticeably skinny. In just a
week! I told my mom, and she said, he's not skinny. I asked when the last time
my brother was here to see them and she said about two weeks. Perfect! I called
my brother and I told him, dude come see dad. They worked for the same
construction company, my dad, and brother. But! They worked at different sites.
But yes, I told him to come over, dad is super skinny and mom says he's not.
When he got there he told my mom the same thing I did. She didn't notice this
because she sees him everyday, goes to bed with him every night. I'm a daddy's
girl. I don't like seeing him sick. And he's the type of man who will not go to
the doctor unless he's dying. But I got him to go. I went with him and my mom,
they did blood work and it came back that he had Type II Diabetes. It was in
full swing. His eye sight was bad already and he never mentioned it to my mom.
They put him on all sorts of medication to help, but his eyes wouldn't get
better. The damage there was done. He went on a special diet. We all did. We all
lost weight and got healthy. Which was good for me! I was getting chubby there
for a minute. Type II Diabetes is a tricky thing. You need the perfect balance
of medication and diet. There were times where he had a hold of it and there was
a time he didn't.
|The Last Picture Of My Dad
||My Dad Today
My dad got pneumonia and died on May 21st, 2013. I was living in Tulare County
at the time. I knew he was sick and my mom thought it was just a cold. In a
matter of two days, he couldn't breathe or walk or even talk in full sentences.
He said he needed to go to the hospital. My mom agreed to take him. She had to
run a quick errand. Pick up my nephews from school and drop them off at home.
Took her ten minutes tops to do this every day. Ten minutes is all my dad had in
him. My mom got back and thought my dad had fallen asleep. He was saying he was
tired, but he couldn't lay flat or even on his side because he felt like he was
suffocating. My mom did a few things around the house. Cleaned up a bit and then
went to wake him up to take him to the hospital. He didn't wake up. She called
911 and they couldn't revive him. He was DOA when he got to the hospital. My
dad. My best friend. My go to guy when I needed cash, or a hug, or a shoulder to
cry on. Was gone. I called his phone for weeks hoping he would answer. I've had
dreams about him. I have this friend who is sensitive to things spiritual. I've
seen her do crazy things to strangers. Described their dead mom or family member
and it would freak them out. So when I had these dreams I would contact her. The
dreams are the same every time. Just a normal dream of whatever and then it goes
black and it's me and dad sitting on the couch. He's sweating and tired like he
just went for a run. I ask if he's okay and he says, I'm tired. That's all. I
wake up. I always wake up. I've had this dream a hundred times. I want to know
what he wants to say. Is there something else? I don't know.
||Yosemite Snow Man
A lot has happened to me since my dad died. I now live in Oakhurst. Literally
ten miles away from Yosemite. I love it here. I don't love the tourists. They
have no clue how to drive up and down these mountains. I now suffer from Anxiety
and have panic attacks on a daily basis. Just came out of nowhere one day. I
don't why. I don't seem to live a stressed life. No one really knows what causes
it besides stress. I have it under control. It doesn't bother me too much
anymore now that I fully understand it. For those of you who have no idea what
it's like to have a panic attack. It feels like a heart attack, and you become
extremely tense. They can last one minute to an hour. Sometimes longer. And they
drain you. After it passes your body feels like you just got done at the gym.
You feel sore and weak. Most of the time I fall asleep after an episode. You
know how you feel after having Thanksgiving dinner? You just want to lay on the
couch for a little nap. That's me. Just a little nap and I'm good to go.
|Quotes To Live By
||The Harder You Fall, The Stronger You Rise
No one ever said that life was going to be easy. There is no instruction manual
or Life For Dummies. You live day by day and learn. Has it's up's and downs. For
some people mostly up's and for some mostly down. We were built to withstand
life and what it throws at us. We wouldn't be here if we couldn't survive the
hardships and the pain. A quote to live by. When you fall into a dark hole, you
have two choices. Dig it deeper or climb to the top. It's not how many times you
fall, it's how many times you get. Because the harder you fall, the stronger you
rise. How strong you rise is what will eventually define who are.