tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41193731661834354272024-02-19T12:20:38.706-05:00Challenge or Crisis?psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-663892868137108132009-03-29T06:15:00.003-04:002009-03-29T06:27:04.796-04:00My Mind At 6:00 AM...Staying up all night is really tough. It really IS possible to think and worry so much, that you can't even go to sleep at all. I know, because it just happened to me. I tossed. I turned. I read. I turned on a DVD. But nothing. Just more worries, and more thinking. Finally, I logged into the computer. I IM'ed my friend in Israel and explained what was going on. Then, there it was, the pit in my stomach. Is it possible to develop an ulcer from so much stress? I wonder. As I explained the story, the feeling got worse. And then.... there it was. It happened. A tear formed and fell fast down my face, and landed on my shoulder. It felt heavy, like it was big and strong -- just like me, right? Everyone always tells me I'm so strong. I never used to believe them, but now I do. Anyways, the tear felt so heavy as it dropped on my shoulder. And then right away, another one fell. Then, before I knew it, they wouldn't stop. They fell and fell, I sobbed and sobbed. That brings me to this moment. Guess what. I'm not feeling any better. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. :-(psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-75844729136808121582008-09-08T09:46:00.001-04:002008-09-08T09:48:15.804-04:00Get Through The Day...Get through the day...get through the day...all I have to do is get through the day. Easier said than done, of course. But perhaps if I keep telling myself it'll be okay, it will. Get through the day, get through the day, all I have to do is get through the day.<br /><br />Get through the day, so that when it's over, I can crawl into my bed...and just cry.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-66054768512867721042008-09-07T20:12:00.002-04:002008-09-07T20:20:01.327-04:00From Everything To NothingI've lived, and I've lost. My memories have jumbled into a cloud of sadness. While I try and maintain happiness, it always seems to be taken away. The last month I was happy. Really happy! Like, really REALLY happy! And now it's gone. I think I need to just start expecting these things to happen. It's all that I know.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-37868317103340023152008-08-21T23:43:00.002-04:002008-08-21T23:51:27.590-04:00Never Say Never"No matter what," she said, "No one will ever love you like me."<br /><br />"I'll never hurt you," he said.<br /><br />"I'll never leave you," he said.<br /><br />"We'll always help you," they said.<br /><br />"You know we love you," they said.<br /><br />"We'll never forget about you," they said.<br /><br />"We'll never stop being there," they said.<br /><br /><br />But they were wrong. My ex-husband hurt me. He left me. My friends and family didn't always help. My ex-husband's family didn't love me. My friends forgot about me. They stopped being there.<br /><br />She was the only one who kept her word. She told me this before I got married. I was infatuated with my ex-husband and I didn't believe her. But she was right. No one will ever love me like her.<br /><br />That person is my mother.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-80720369784242162692008-08-20T17:43:00.002-04:002008-08-20T17:53:16.527-04:00RejectionRejection is the worst feeling in the world. I know, because I feel it on a regular basis. <br /><br />I've never felt good enough for anything. <br /><br />I couldn't even keep a marriage together.<br /><br />I'm not good enough at work. It's more fun to push me around. I think they enjoy it.<br /><br />Basically, I mean nothing. You'd think after all this time, I'd be immune to it all.<br /><br />But I'm not.<br /><br />It still hurts.<br /><br />Badly.<br /><br />All the time.<br /><br />Now, I can't even date. <br /><br />Will<br /><br />it<br /><br />ever<br /><br />end?psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-57885992920246342292008-06-02T16:22:00.003-04:002008-06-02T16:41:42.643-04:00Thanks To All, And A Whole Bunch Of ApplesTo all my loyal readers:<br /><br />I am sorry for not posting in a while. I am without a computer for the time being (needs to be hooked up after a move). I can't tell you all how many times I've wanted/needed/desperately wished I could blog but did not have the means to.<br /><br />I have a few minutes now, and wanted to just thank you all for your emails, cares, concerns, and loyalty in keeping up to date with my blog. It means a lot to me.<br /><br />Here's my thought of the day:<br /><br />Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy.<br /><br />The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along.... the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-90280546884242111022008-04-23T22:47:00.003-04:002008-04-23T22:54:01.338-04:00Have You Ever. . . . .Have you ever wanted something so badly, it made your head spin...<br />... your bones ache,<br />... your heart hurt?<br /><br />Have you ever missed someone so much, it made your stomach twist...<br />... your heart pound,<br />... your tears flow?<br /><br />Have you ever felt so out of place, it made your pulse race...<br />... your mouth get dry,<br />... your eyes water?<br /><br />Have you ever not understood why things happen so much, that it makes you want to scream?<br />... cry?<br />... hibernate?<br /><br />Have you ever cared about something so much on one hand...<br />... yet on the other, not cared at all?<br /><br />Have you ever wished? Wished so hard? Wished hard enough, that it made you....<br />feel...<br />so...<br />weak?psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-17439507544669018042008-03-30T13:07:00.002-04:002008-03-30T13:44:38.990-04:00I'm Not Brave, I Just Don't Have A ChoiceThrust into a world unknown,<br />I embrace is with only half a heart.<br />I am happier with my new life,<br />Yet it was hard to leave the old and just depart.<br /><br />Everything taken away from me,<br />The things left are ‘the ones that matter’<br />How I wish I could believe that,<br />How I wish the others didn’t scatter.<br /><br />I want to forget the bad times<br />I want to move on and make the smiles real,<br />It’s such a long process ahead<br />Can’t I just snap my fingers and heal?<br /><br />Lost so much, moved so many times,<br />Which place is home?<br />I thought I had it all,<br />Now I am just…alone.<br /><br />Moving again, a new state<br />New job, new home, new life….<br />I hate change. I hate this. <br />I want to be somebody’s wife.<br /><br />Brave, you say? Not quite.<br />“Not even close,” says a voice.<br />Moving from one place to another?<br />Big deal – I just don’t have a choice.<br /><br />The voice is mine, of course.<br />Who else would it be?<br />I’m just doing what I have to.<br />You don’t agree?<br /><br />I want to be happy,<br />I want to be free.<br />I just HAVE to do this…<br />Don’t you see?<br /><br />I'm not brave -- I'm scared.<br />There, I said it.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-51189005214130766662008-03-19T09:28:00.008-04:002008-03-19T09:47:49.402-04:00Dreaming Of Closure<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDMPr7f8V2cj-k32bT1DwmNRqt5sOubfgQGKZceqrieC98P0_BOzgh1TAAsMiBrN0wLcxV-mB9hK2wt1hVEcwofp93Zv9O5WS7ugFn1vBHHsh_K7D3hKzflrcUSc-ZoHplDQc5BSw-lg/s1600-h/sleeping.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179448943304289938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDMPr7f8V2cj-k32bT1DwmNRqt5sOubfgQGKZceqrieC98P0_BOzgh1TAAsMiBrN0wLcxV-mB9hK2wt1hVEcwofp93Zv9O5WS7ugFn1vBHHsh_K7D3hKzflrcUSc-ZoHplDQc5BSw-lg/s400/sleeping.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Last night I had a dream; they were all there. His mother, his father, his sisters, his brothers, their husbands and wives, even some nieces and nephews. I chased my ex around the room trying to get one word in edgewise. Ironically, that is what most of my marriage entailed. The truth is, my ex was never a husband. But I discovered that I wasn't as mad as him as I was at his family. Aside from the terrible things they did to me, items they stole, comments they made, rumors they spread... why was I treated as if I was some sort of criminal? Why did everyone drop me like a hot potato the minute we separated? Why didn't anyone see how terrible I was treated; how abused I was; what a good person I have always tried to be? Why did I feel like this was MY fault?<br /><br />I yelled at his mother. "How dare you say you know we love you the last time you saw me. How dare you even shed one tear? How could you even take my hand and act like you care. Why is your family just one big lump of lies??" The rest of the family shook their heads in disagreement. They all rolled their eyes. His father stood up, big beard and all, and started cursing me out. Then they closed the doors on me. "NO!" I screamed. "You have to listen to me, you have to believe me, you can't keep acting like animals!" But the sliding doors closed in my face, and I was once again, left alone. I heard whispering, I heard laughing.<br /><br />Then the doors opened. They all moved out of the way and his grandmother -- the only one I ever really loved from the family -- came into view. She looked regal; I thought I saw a faint smile together with the tears that escaped her eyes. I ran over to her, calling her name. At least her love had to be real. I prayed that it was. I studied the look on her face. "Please Hashem," I silently prayed. "I just want the world to know the truth. I want them to fess up."<br /><br />But that never happened. I woke up in a sweat. My heart was beating fast. Then the truth sunk in: I will probably never get that. Nothing even remotely close to it.</div>psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-1131348821642753252008-03-16T22:44:00.001-04:002008-03-16T22:46:05.115-04:00Back In The SceneOkay, so it's official. I'm back there. Dating - UGGGGHHHHH. <br /><br />How do you guys do it? Only 3 guys, and I'm turned off already! Advice PLEASE.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-74655623256409244552008-03-12T00:47:00.002-04:002008-03-12T00:52:28.139-04:00I Miss My Harry Potter DVD'sOkay, so that may sound strange. But it's true. The other day I wanted to watch Harry Potter and I couldn't. Okay okay, so I may be a Harry Potter fanatic. And I may have seen the movies one too many times. But so what? I wanted to watch it, and I couldn't. So I figured, okay, I'll watch something else instead. Oh, but I couldn't do that either. Whoever has my DVD's....I hope you're enjoying them but not good that you stole. Not good at all. Sorry, fellow readers. I know I haven't posted in a while. And sorry for posting about something as dumb as Harry Potter but hey - it was on my mind tonight.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-67623282072251635182008-02-03T11:41:00.000-05:002008-02-03T11:46:14.995-05:00Sad UpdateWith tearstained eyes, and though I despise sharing bad news, I am forced to inform you all that unfortunately my mom's friend lost her battle to cancer just two days ago. Anyone that was saying Tehillim for her is so appreciated. Whoever even took the time to read her blog means the world to all those who knew her. She was an incredible person who fought till the very end, and I like to believe she is in a much better place now, no more suffering, no more pain. <br /><br />Cheryl knew I was going through a divorce, but unfortunately she passed away before we could tell her the good news that it was over. I realize, though, that she knows it now. She knows it all.<br /><br />May we all only share good news, now and forever.<br /><br />~ Psychedpsychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-41045649424444550892008-02-03T10:54:00.000-05:002008-02-03T11:14:55.096-05:00It Shouldn't Matter When....My heart was beating; my nerves were shot<br />My stuff was finally coming – I’ve waited a whole lot.<br />Almost 7 months later, I couldn’t wait<br />After so much unnecessary and constant debate.<br />I couldn’t wait to see my things again,<br />The boxes finally arrived, but then…<br /><br />Empty shoeboxes, crushed dishes,<br />Crumpled paper towels, shattered wishes.<br />Dusty Tupperware, meaningless things<br />Wondered how I ever wore those rings.<br />None of the things I wanted were there,<br />Not one item of silver or crystal – how unfair.<br /><br />I will never see my Grandmother’s dishes again,<br />I will never hold my silver lighter in my hands when I light candles.<br />I will never be able to put money into the tzedakah box from my friends.<br />I will never be able to look at the beautiful things I once had.<br /><br />The list can continue but why bother?<br />It shouldn’t matter when I have my mother and father.<br />It shouldn’t matter when I have my sisters and brothers,<br />My grandparents, aunts, uncles and so many others.<br />Cousins, friends, people who love me,<br />Those who are happy that he set me free.<br /><br />For it’s the things that matter, the ones that will remain.<br />Those who have been there for me throughout all of my pain.<br />Items will always come and go,<br />But at the end of the day…..I have more to show.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-12139934349904921472008-01-27T19:55:00.000-05:002008-01-27T20:11:04.461-05:00The Night Before...And Then It Was Over.I sat down, got up, walked around, and sat down again. Could it really be happening? It seemed so surreal. I lay in bed and my thoughts overcame me. Feelings flooded my mind. Guilt. Sorrow. Sadness. Relief. Fear of the unknown. I got up, walked around again, then got back into bed. I knew it was going to be a long night.<br /><br />Crazy dreams...my nerves woke me up every hour. Then finally, at 8:00 in the morning, I jumped out of bed. My heart was pounding. Hashem had finally answered my tefillos. It took me extra long to daven this morning. I made sure to say every word carefully, and out loud. I needed to make it known that I was grateful to Hashem for getting me until this point, and prayed He would get me through the emotional event that would take place in the afternoon. <br /><br />I arrived with my father, shaking, yet confident. Happy, yet sad. Excited, yet depressed. As I held my hands out for my ex husband to place the "get" inside them, I looked at him in the eye. He became emotional and it seemed difficult for him to meet my eyes in return.<br /><br />No other words were exchanged. I shakily walked back into the waiting room with my father, who gave me a hug and a kiss when we arrived. "Mazel Tov" he told me, with a shaky voice and a tearstained face. <br /><br />And then I cried.<br /><br />Tears of pain. Tears of joy. Tears of relief. Tears of greatfulness. Tears of sorrow and worry. As I hugged my father I recited the words of tehillim beginning with "shir la'maalos ma'ayin yavo ezri.." I prayed for Hashem to guide me as my new life was about to begin.<br /><br />A new life. A new start. After so much pain and suffering, I still have mixed feelings. I am relieved, yet sad. Sad that all the good times got washed away with the bad. Sad that it all had to happen to me. Yet, it did, and I will never know why.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-32212175598000020452007-12-31T15:50:00.001-05:002007-12-31T15:56:58.150-05:00Doubting My RootsI was never one of those girls who rebelled against Judaism. I grew up in an accepting home, always tried to what was right (most of the time), always believed Hashem took care of us.<br /><br />Now, in my high twenties, going through a messy divorce, though it hurts to admit, I have doubts. I struggled to grab onto all the emunah and bitachon my heart can handle. I've done all the hishtadlus I thought I can do. I've spoken to Rabbonim, attended Shiurim, cried tears into my siddur....and for what?<br /><br />Orthodox Judaism -- a beautiful heritage. Yet, it seems backwards to me. Why is it that a man who has caused me a countless amount of suffering, has power over me? How can it be that no Rav, though they know he is wrong, can override the fact that he won't let me free? Why is it that I feel like I'm more imprisoned now, then I ever was throughout many unhappy years of marriage?<br /><br />HOW is this allowed? Nobody seems to have this answer. All the Rabbonim, all the Chashuv people, all those with long beards who learn all day.... what's the answer? So it's OKAY for me to be held hostage? It's OKAY for me to silently beg him to just let me free? It's OKAY for someone to torture another human being, and then throw salt on that open wound? It's OKAY for me not to be worthy of a life of happiness? A loving husband? A family?<br /><br />Is this really what Orthodox Judaism is all about?psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-21588299452311441422007-12-31T01:08:00.000-05:002007-12-31T01:09:28.364-05:00Comment From The SourceThanks to everyone for your comments. I decided to throw my own comment in here because I see that my most recent post has caused a little bit of confusion.Unfortunately, it wasn't referring to a friend, or my ex... but does refer to someone who has caused me pain on top of pain, without meaning to. I like to say it's kind of like pouring salt on an open wound. All of your chizuk and advice has meant a lot to me, and I thank you for that. Unfortunately, when a person is in such emotional pain, it's hard to see a way out. It's hard to believe things will turn around when you look around and see those who are happily married, pushing their strollers, sharing shabbos meals with their children. It just makes me wonder why I wasn't deserving of that.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-33735467149245781822007-12-23T16:24:00.001-05:002007-12-23T16:27:56.678-05:00How Did I Lose My Chance With You?Remember when, we called each other<br />You made me laugh more than a sister or brother<br />We understood, we'd never be,<br />Alone<br /><br />Those days are gone, don't know what to say<br />I never meant to feel this way<br />What can I do, to make you mine?<br />I'm falling so hard..so fast, this time.<br /><br />What did I say, what did you do?<br />How did I lose my chance with you?<br /><br />I cannot pretend, that we can still be friends<br />But I don't want to be,<br />Alone<br /><br />I want to say this right<br />And it has to be tonight<br />Because I just want you to know...<br /><br />I don't want to live this life<br />I don't want to say goodbye<br /><br />Everything's changed, we never knew<br /><br />How did I lose,<br />my chance,<br />with you?psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-39713130429929510392007-12-09T12:28:00.000-05:002007-12-09T12:32:03.932-05:00Cheryl's StoryI added a new link today called Cheryl's story. I felt it would be appropriate to post her page on my blog. Cheryl is a dear friend of my mom's and has gone through so much over the last few years. Her husband keeps her webpage up to date in the form of a journal. It is beautiful, yet heartbreaking. She is one person who truly believes life is a challenge and not a crisis. Her disposition remains upbeat and I think she, as well as the rest of her family, are incredible people. Hope you have a chance to read and be inspired.<br /><br />~ Psychedpsychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-54242003226223300142007-12-03T14:13:00.000-05:002007-12-03T14:15:21.006-05:00The Tightrope<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCAbTHCJ_udWvwGUNNfRC0oW43xHcCx9tzsm-UI0UF8pEp5F5VfGnmrWlgrq2uM9hxhr0Shdmi6w_zLW_8zJz3xoDt8dVFJCukbZUzre_rfZP5OjHb8tPJFj3WpnSwVmnXqMa0OTSyuAE/s1600-r/tightrope.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139827347010412130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvG_GnkQ_sycLNP8q6pphyphenhyphenKg88lzGcAyZq6bv05l7beBwT1Z8tHJBOylaQaPgZ7LQ_lsU42HmK8i5JcIjb35kLKKWXaGIeN6LMGUz9er00NzhSWHtwwb7ZmSgfrakDsr7qjky-hSmajY/s400/tightrope.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>There’s a tightrope, not sturdy at all<br />Just one slip and one may fall<br />Balancing poles don’t help that much<br />The rope is so fine; they are hard to clutch<br /><br />Carefully she walks; every step so cautious<br />One step out of place will make me feel nauseous<br />Because, you see, the tightrope is the finest line there is<br />I don’t think there are many who can play it like a whiz<br /><br />But there are those select few<br />Who know what to do<br />Perhaps a special being<br />Who is talented at seeing<br /><br />Who can speak without pity, yet fail to ignore,<br />Not ask stupid questions or seem like a bore,<br />Validate my feelings, not disregard reality,<br />One who makes decisions using pure morality.<br /><br />To hurt, she never does intend<br />She never fails to comprehend<br />The relationship indeed is far from pretend<br />And she’d never, ever, EVER offend<br /><br />That is,<br />Because,<br />She is my friend.</div>psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-2100554358134716132007-11-26T14:38:00.000-05:002007-11-26T14:45:21.522-05:00Would You Make A Shidduch With Someone From The Torah?Well, let's see.....<br /><br />There's....<br /><br />Avrohom Avinu: He seems to be frum but really he's a BT and his father made idols, not our kind...next.<br /><br />Yitzchak Avinu: Well his grandfather made idols, there was all that nastiness with Lot and is half brother is an Arab.<br /><br />Yaakov Avinu: His great-grandfather made idols, his brother went off the derech, his mother comes from a very traif family and he wasn't shomer negiah with Rachel Imeinu before they were married. Oh, and he spent a lot of time with his uncle, who's a rasha.<br /><br />Yosef HaTzaddik: His mother had an idol once and she died early, plus he's a slave and his brothers don't like him, must be something in that and with all the issues with Avraham Avinu and Yitzchak and Yaakov Avinu...better not to.<br /><br />Moshe Rabbeinu: His parents separated, then they got back together, his parents abandoned him, put him in a basket, he was raised by goyim...not our kind for sure. He may be close to Hashem but his background is so problematic, we wouldn't want him in OUR family!<br /><br />Calev's descendants: We don't want to marry into that family. Enough said.<br /><br />Dovid HaMelech: Descendants from a Geyoret, not our kind of people. Sure a few generations have gone by but all things being equal shouldn't we look for someone with more 'Jewish' background?<br /><br />Shlomo HaMelech: See above, all his mother's marriage was very dubious, he is rich though but the yichus and family background is very tricky.<br /><br />So what does this seem like to you all? IMHO? Seems like we all need a kick in the butt, people.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-65411433330730161612007-11-25T23:32:00.000-05:002007-11-25T23:36:01.990-05:00Struggle Of The DayEver feel like you made a mistake but don't feel bad for it? Ever feel like you lost your morals because you can't control yourself anymore? What if you can't remember what is right and what is wrong just because you feel like your life is to hard to take?<br /><br />I'm not asking for much; just happiness. When will the pain stop? When will the tears cease to flow? I don't even care about him; just what he is doing to me. How much torture..how much more will I have to endure? When will I be left alone? When will G-d say, "now you can move on, it's okay. Now I will grant you happiness."<br /><br />I can't stand the pain anymore. I feel like it's never going to go away.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-40434249925008849352007-11-21T20:55:00.000-05:002007-11-21T20:56:44.477-05:00Next Time Will Be Different...Love…like a road that never ends<br />How it leads me back again….to heartache<br />Ill never understand.<br />I put my heart up on a shelf<br />till the moment was right, and I told myself…<br /><br />Next time I fall in love,<br />Ill know better what to do.<br />The next time I fall in love...<br />It will be with you.<br />…you<br />…..whoever you are.psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-86022500581827036342007-11-19T22:59:00.000-05:002007-11-19T23:22:08.304-05:00Even Though YOU Don't Think So.....Others DO!<strong>Recently I had a conversation with a friend who doesn’t even know me personally. What she said put tears in my eyes. Please, readers, don’t think I’m trying to brag here. That isn’t it at ALL. I’m so far from perfect. But what she said really validated my feelings and I want to remember this conversation whenever I feel hatred around me for no reason at all. I have to remember that someone said this about me…someone who never even met me before.</strong><br /><br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;">”Think of the love you give the children you work with, don't let the anger push that away - it is too precious. I know a different part of you that others don't know. I know how even though it is hard and you are struggling, you aren't giving up. I know the love and devotion you feel for those you work with. I know how strong you are becoming (you can't see it yet ;) ) and I know that you are more sensitive to others…<br />I know now how much you are working on yourself…<br />I know how much you care…<br />I know how much you don't want the arguments and want a peaceful existence.”<br /></span></em>psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-12051085652362140482007-11-19T21:59:00.000-05:002007-11-19T23:24:09.364-05:00Not Worth My Tears!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIc-fgKpDb3QEhjXCVI4sFzopA5VRQRL4b3QLMxqE_nFpxC6cnAOqlw4vdE7KFmS-hzFZUAW6ljgO4u0jXw2QsPUxIoffZiJbOb30JrmJLsQ8KXi4VutuyiFiXZOea6sDBlsIiyT73K64/s1600-h/no+crying.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134754616060501202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 136px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 85px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="85" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIc-fgKpDb3QEhjXCVI4sFzopA5VRQRL4b3QLMxqE_nFpxC6cnAOqlw4vdE7KFmS-hzFZUAW6ljgO4u0jXw2QsPUxIoffZiJbOb30JrmJLsQ8KXi4VutuyiFiXZOea6sDBlsIiyT73K64/s400/no+crying.jpg" width="65" border="0" /></a><br /><div><em>Living here without you is not an easy way of life</em> (only because of the torment you are causing me now)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>I spend my time without you; I try to make it all worthwhile</em> (it is)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>Standing in a rainfall coming down from the sky</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div><em>Why should I cry over you?</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div><em>I keep on thinking about you</em> (and all the pain)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>I've got no private pride to hide</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div><em>I've built my world around you</em> (but I’ve rebuilt a new and better one)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>Like a call without reply</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div><em>My love has lost direction; she's got the sun in her eyes</em> (but one day I will..I will trust again)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>Why should I cry over you?</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div><em>I’m living without you.<br /><br />- Roxette<br /></em><br /></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Mr Ex, I’m living without you, and I hate to burst your bubble, but it’s GREAT! :D</span></strong></div>psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4119373166183435427.post-24793689752922102262007-11-12T17:53:00.000-05:002007-11-12T18:13:29.291-05:00The Eyes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMnreDWgDzyg_ja3sBSkTNvgSEF4zeIgq1zgzhll68i4tv8jcl9U94KjJGG7zIbtyFzRn8Z14uRN60Jeiu6ypbZcPV4OuGOaQb5ugGuv1Ruy7FV_lZZSh7FdtAqfkav5Ix3Cj7kbfTUjc/s1600-h/eyes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132094211076529586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMnreDWgDzyg_ja3sBSkTNvgSEF4zeIgq1zgzhll68i4tv8jcl9U94KjJGG7zIbtyFzRn8Z14uRN60Jeiu6ypbZcPV4OuGOaQb5ugGuv1Ruy7FV_lZZSh7FdtAqfkav5Ix3Cj7kbfTUjc/s400/eyes.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I can't explain it, but it's a look. A look of pity. As if to say, "aww, I'm so sorry for you..." or "nebach...how sad."</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Why would that make someone feel good??</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Question: Has anyone else experienced this? How do you handle it? It's such a horrible feeling, and I dread it. I'm almost afraid to meet certain people in the street because I hate the way they make me feel about myself. Being confident and knowing I did nothing wrong should be enough. Having so many people who love me should suffice.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>...How come it doesn't?</div><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">***THANKS to a special someone (you know who you are) who gave me a pep talk before my cousin's wedding tonight. You saved the day :)</span><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div>psychedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05127404496251418714noreply@blogger.com6