I'm a mess.

I said it. I am a mess. Life is crazy, and I am an absolute mess.
I've visited my parents twice since I last wrote. It was truly amazing how we have changed, yet remained the same. It pains me to have to leave them. Each time, it's the absolute worst feeling. My family is so much a part of me, and I feel that a huge part of me is missing when I'm so far away from them. But, this is what growing up is about. This semester at school is almost over, and it has definitely flown by. It feels like it was just yesterday that I was beginning my permanent Boone adventure; it's been three months. It's almost hard to believe. I have a new found love for Dubstep. Yes. I have been sucked into the craze. There's something about this music that just lets me be free. I'm listening to it now.
I've been very sick lately. I've always had this problem, but it has worsened. I just can't seem to hold any food down anymore, no matter how hard I try to. Even the medicine doesn't work. In fact, it was so bad on Thursday night, Brittany had to take me to the Emergency Room. They hooked me up to an IV and gave me a saline drip infused with drugs to put me to sleep and end the vomiting. Needless to say, when I woke up at 2.30 pm the next day, I had no recollection of the events that transpired after they injected me with sleepy-drugs. I don't even remember leaving the hospital. It is this recurrent illness that makes it so difficult to be away from home. Not knowing what is wrong with me, and my Mom worried sick about me doesn't help things. All I can do right now is smile, even when I feel like I want to curl up in a ball and sleep for a year.
Everyone tells me to get better soon. Trust me, I want to. I don't like feeling this way every moment of every day. It's unnerving to know that something is wrong with you, but not exactly what. I'm pale, my hair is flat, my eyes are sullen and bloodshot, and my skin is blotchy. I'm exhausted, but I have to smile and keep going. I am sick and tired of going to the doctor and being told, "I don't know why you're sick. I don't know what it could be. I'm going to prescribe you Phenergan and Zofran to help." I don't want anymore damned drugs. I want you doctors to figure out what is wrong with me. I already have a pharmacy, and I don't need anything more that obviously is not helping the problem. I don't see beauty when I look in the mirror. I see a pathetic, sick, gross person who is not me. I am strong, not weak. I am a healthy nineteen year old and shouldn't be sick. Not like this.
Of course, I'm not contagious. I don't have tuberculosis or the flu. There are many possible diagnoses. I won't find out anything until I go to see a Gastroenterologist for more tests. Yippy. I just love being poked with needles all of the time.
But, for now, I am going to self-diagnose myself. Right now, it's just life. And, there's nothing that can be done to fix that because it's life. You just gotta keep living.

Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.

Silent thoughts..

I have spoken to one person today, verbally.
Some random guy that showed me the correct way to swipe my App Card at the vending machine. It was a very short conversation. I guess I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone, mostly because I enjoy time to myself, with my thoughts.
I've been thinking a lot about Boone, and my life. Here's what I have come up with:

I love this place. It brings out a side of me that I've only briefly known before.

Maybe it's the scenery.

Or the weather. 

Or the people. 

Or the football.

I'm not quite sure. But whatever it is, it's good for me. This is the place where I am stress free and happy. This place consumes me in a way. The anger and hostility is gone. In fact, I cannot remember the last time I was angry or hostile. They are replaced with peace, serenity, and genuine happiness. I work full-time and go to school full-time. Stressful? Not at all. Work is fun. Everyone there is really cool, and they all talk to me like they've known me forever. At Appalachian, we have the best professors on the East Coast... I guarantee it. Mountain life is easy-going, and happy-go-lucky.

This is where I belong.

Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.

Forgiveness...

It's crazy how eight months goes by so quickly. Maybe on day one, it feels as though you cannot move forward. You are stuck in a rut, unable to escape. You try so very hard to get past things, but you remain haunted. Day one turns into day two. Day two turns into a month, and you might not know it right away, but you're healing with each passing day, hour, and minute. By the second month, you're functioning again. By the fifth, you can hear that name without feeling sick to your stomach. Time does, in fact, heal all wounds. The more that you hurt, the stronger you become after a period of time. When you feel when you are at your breaking point... That is the moment when it is imperative that you continue to move forward. If you don't quite grasp this concept, please refer to my blog post about strength. Anyway... Where was I... Oh. Yes.. You grow with time as well. Maturity does not happen overnight, but it does come faster than one might think. Pain fades. It never quite ceases, but it does lessen enough to allow you to breathe and function normally.
It takes time to forgive. In order to forgive another for their transgressions against you, you must first forgive yourself. This idea is similar to that of, "You cannot love someone until you love yourself". How do you expect someone else to love you if you cannot love yourself? How do you expect to forgive someone else if you cannot forgive yourself?
Forgiveness is a very difficult gesture for me. I hold grudges, can be spiteful, malicious, and downright mean, BUT, I do forgive. However, like I said before, forgiveness takes time. Although it can be a very difficult gesture, it is an extremely important one. Would you care to know why? (That is a rhetorical question; I really don't care)
It is because unlike violence, stewing in your anger, belittling someone, or dwelling on events that cannot be undone, forgiveness truly speaks to all parties involved in the process. It helps you heal. It puts your soul at ease, (for the time-being), and it lifts that weight that you've carried - that burden - off of your tired shoulders, allowing you to finally be happy. So, really, it's not so bad.

Just another thing that I have learned today.

Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.

Strength

In life, we all have trials. We all have tragedy, loss, pain, anguish, and anger.
We lose our parents, spouses, siblings, and children. It is never easy to accept, especially within the first year of the loss. On the anniversary, each month, then each year, a ripple of pain and fresh hurt washes over you, bringing back the most painful, vivid memories. Each person reacts differently. Some may shut down. Others may break into tears at the most random moment, unable to stop. Some may pop a pill. Others self mutilate. And some people, well, they're all one in the same. Yet, no matter how much the amount of pain, anguish and anger, it is important to remember to stay strong. Strength does not mean how muscular you are, how many pounds you can bench press, or how well you can fight. True strength comes from within. It's forgiving the person who hurt you the most. It's stretching yourself beyond your own means in order to help another person. It's when the whole world seems to be crumbling around you, but you get your ass out of bed and KEEP GOING. That is true strength. Sometimes, one cannot be strong by themselves. It takes friends who won't turn their back on you, even though everyone else has. Meditation and prayer also seem to be helpful.

In my time of need, one person in particular helped me to keep my head up and move forward. Grace Whitworth has been one of the best friends that I could ever ask for. For her, I am truly blessed. You see, we barely knew each other, but she spent every waking minute with me when I thought I was alone. I tried to shut everyone out, but she kept pushing in. She refused to leave me alone, even though that's all I wanted. She still calls on the 20th of the month, to make sure I'm okay.
True strength comes from within, yes. However, sometimes, it takes someone else to brave the war within you, and help you find it.

"I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me."
Phillippians 4:13

Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.

I've got a dentist... Dr. Longjohn, and he's over seven feet tall.

Okay, so he's not seven feet tall. His name is Doctor Allen, and I am a new patient of his, and he has got to be the best dentist I have ever been to. You see, when I was a little kid, I was traumatized by my dentist. He once forcefully held me down while drilling my teeth; another time, he had to pull a tooth as the result of an abscess, and was extremely rough with the numbing shots. Not to mention he was a real ass. So, needless to say, I've hated the dentist ever since. My last cleaning was kind of embarrassing; I had cavities and hadn't been to the dentist in three years. The cavities were very small, and borderline cavities, but they were cavities nonetheless. I had the work spread out over two visits; right side, left side. Last Tuesday, I went for my right side, and they brought out the nitrous oxide. I'd never been drugged up for any dental procedure.
My dentist was very gentle, understood my hyperventilation about the whole ordeal, managed to calm me down, and hit me hard with the gas. So hard, in fact, that I "high-called" my best friend. I had no clue that I'd called her and left her a voicemail; this was told to me two days ago. Yes. The nitrous was that good.
Today, I went back to the dentist so that my mouth could be finished. Doctor Allen was nowhere to be found. Panic slowly began to set in. Who was going to be working on my mouth? Where was Doctor Allen? I want my doctor! You are not touching me until Doctor Allen is here. (kind of sounds like labor). I began to hyperventilate once again, and they hit me with the nitrous. You see, nitrous gets you super high. No wonder why cars with NOS go so fast. It doesn't numb you, or knock you out, but it makes you calm, and you stop caring. It's a nice feeling. However, when the patient is so panicked that they're hyperventilating, and it's a new, strange dentist drilling IN YOUR MOUTH, it raises concern. Not to mention there was not enough of the famous topical numbing gel that lessens the pain of the numbing shots they inject your jaw muscles with... Well, I'm sure if you know me, you know I was ready to swing on the new dentist. Jiggling my cheek while giving me a shot does not make it less painful; it makes me think you are really spastic, and it concerns me. When I get concerned, I start taking deeper breaths of nitrous, which, in turn, boosts your state of complete euphoria. Not so sure how healthy that really is. I don't blame the dentist today; she didn't know she was hurting me. But from now on, I will ONLY be seeing Doctor Allen for any more dental procedures I may have to endure.
So I went home today with a prescription of muscle relaxers, a throbbing jaw, and a lesson learned.
Don't repeatedly pass out drunk after throwing up. It doesn't matter if you brush your teeth as soon as you wake up; the acid had already damaged your teeth. Also:: floss like a madman. Otherwise, a week's worth of pain shall ensue.

Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.

My Grateful Blog...

I am currently indulging in a bowl of Summer Berry Ice Cream. It kind of tastes like the crunch berries from my favorite cereal...

........... Anyways. I asked my Mom what my next blog should consist of. Her reply was simple: "What are you grateful for?" 

That's a little ridiculous, I think.

There is so much to be grateful for; I don't even know where to start.

I think I will only choose one thing today, for the sole reason of being exhausted and not wanting to ramble on forever. So here it goes.

I HAVE THE MOST DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY. 

We fight like cats and dogs; Most of the time for no reason other than being cats and dogs. Here is the lineup:

Mom: Pitbull

Dad: Jack Russell Terrier 

Grace: That annoying little prissy cat

Nola: Ankle Biter

Me: Rottweiler 

I think the above is quite accurate, based on the demeanor and overall behavior of each family member.  But, that's just for fun.

My parents have done SO much for me, and I thank God every day that I have them for parents, no matter the ups or downs we have. They teach me life lessons every day. 

We fight like it is World War III. We slam doors, stomp around, scream until we need to catch our breath, pack our bags, and drive away angry. We say things that we cannot unsay and do things that cannot be undone. We don't need swords to fight; our tongues cut each other deep enough. But, at the end of the day (or week), we all put our grown up pants on and deal with it. Through the rough times, my parents have taught me how to argue, fight, yell louder than you can, stomp around, break things and pay to fix them, and be angry. However, they have also taught me to love, forgive, hold my tears in and my head up, stand my ground, laugh it off, and brush my shoulders off at the end of it all. They have taught me that life is too short to stomp around angry. They've given me wisdom through their words and actions that I could not have gained anywhere else. Through the life they have given me, my parents have instilled depth in me; something I otherwise would lack if not for what they have shown me. I am grateful, I love my parents, I learn something new every single day, and my Mom and Dad greatly contribute to it; to me.

And yes, my friends, life lessons and arguments that can be heard around the block are things to be grateful for. It means it's real.

Signing off for now, 

Simply Sam.

I'm a slacker.

It's been too long to have not written.
My life has been crazy the past few weeks with my parents' move to Virginia.
Excuses, excuses.
Anyway, I've learned a lot over the past few weeks.
First, don't sit in the bathtub for an hour and a half with all of your clothes on and the shower running... It's very unattractive.
Second, and I've known this, your "friends" are not your friends. What is my definition of a friend? Someone who you can call at 2 am when you need them and they come with no questions asked. When you're having a panic attack, they call you and talk you down.
Friends never throw things in your face, or deliberately dredge up the past in an attempt at a low blow. They help you when you're drunk and ill, make you laugh when all you want to do is cry, and grab hold of you and never let go, no matter how badly you don't want anyone touching you.
Now, with that being said...
This week I went to the outer banks to meet my parents and a large group of their long time friends. I had lots of fun in the sun, had great company, and felt totally at peace for the first time in a long time. Each night I spent on the beach with someone engaging in psychological evaluations, drunken laughter, and philosophical conversation. The sound of the waves, the moonlight on the water, the stars lighting up the sky, the salty ocean air, and even the sand in my hair and nooks & crannies was all very breathtaking and surreal to me. I'm not talking about the company I had while I was out there; just the environment. These nights on the beach helped open my eyes to certain things, including certain behaviors of mine. It was refreshing to have a conversation with someone who never talked down to me or belittled me; instead, he spoke to me as his equal, an adult with an adult mind. Very blunt, yet caring in a way, and always respectful towards me... I realized that I am better than what I allow myself to be. I don't think he knew that he was helping me. I hope to remain friends with him and stay in touch.. Again, it's refreshing to be content with conversation, laugh at your own stupidity, and let someone see who you are without judgement and without an agenda.
Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.

People repeat their behaviors.

Each and every day I learn a little bit more; about myself, others, and the world.
After putting some thought into it, here is what I have realized today:
People never change. Situations do. Yes, their actions and preferences may change over time, however, the person remains the same. What is done to one person will be done to another, by the same one who inflicted the wounds on the first.
Sorry if I've lost you.. I'm rambling.
Anywho, it is inevitable. We all do it. "Once a cheater, always a cheater"... Some will argue that this is not the case. Those same people most likely have also cheated. In this particular example, I completely agree with the statement. Once someone has established with themselves or with others that they have particular tendencies, it stays with you forever. You may not act on it, but it is a part of who you are. It is this mindset that helps me get through every day. When I think about the past and the things that have been done to me, I don't cry like I used to; instead I chuckle to myself about how I see now what I couldn't before, and think about how lucky I am that I am no longer in that situation. I pity her, though. Some days I hate her guts. But most days, it makes me sad that she has no idea who he is.
This pattern with him has continued, and will continue in the future. This very person supports my theory. HE will never change; merely the situation will.
I will never change; I never have changed. My behaviors have changed and I have matured, but I will never change. I will always be the same Sam that I have always been. I have the same tendencies that I've always had, and that will forever be a part of who I am; what makes me ME. The situations that I have been in have changed, some for the better and some for the worst. But I have adapted. Not changed.

Signing off for now,
Simply Sam


 

A giant bug.

Every day I learn something new. Here's what I learned today:
I am the BIGGEST girl when it comes to insects or arachnids. I HATE them. I went outside for a moment earlier and came back inside without a care in the world. I sat down on the ground at Jerry's new apartment and ate a tortilla chip, while telling a funny story. My arm brushed my shirt and felt a lump on it, so instinctively, I grabbed at the lump to get it off of my shirt and throw it away, thinking it was a hairball or something of sorts. I picked the lump off, only to realize that it was a giant, slimy, black, beetle just hanging out. No pun intended. I screamed like an 8 year old girl and flung it across the room. I shrieked for about 4 minutes straight, flailing my arms and begging Grace to check me for bugs, in tears. I then wound up in the fetal position screaming and crying like a little girl. Jerry found it and killed it... Or so we thought. He then looked over at it and exclaimed, "It's ALIVE!".. Not something that I needed to hear. The screaming and shrieking then began all over again. Jerry picked up the container that he had placed the bug in and took it to the bathroom, disposing of the creature. Jerry laughed at me incessantly.
So... I am a tomboy, but in times like this, my girlie side comes out.
I'm scarred for life.

Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.

I feel pretty...

No. Really. Have you ever had a guy tell you and completely make you feel like you're just beautiful? I'm obviously talking to Ladies at this point. Is it not the best feeling, to know that a guy (who happens to be gorgeous) likes you? I think so. Not that it doesn't happen a lot, but every time it does happen I get butterflies that make me feel like a giddy child. However, I will not let anything come of it. Now, I have realized something about myself. Are you ready?
I make myself unattainable.
YES, I AM the BIGGEST flirt on the face of the planet; but then I shy away and move on to the next. I make it so that nobody can have me. Why is this? I am sure that I know. My heart has been broken by love, stomped on by those who promised never to stomp on it, ripped to shreds, glued back together, burned with hatred, beaten and bruised, and dragged through the mud. I gave it away once, to someone who meant the world to me. He was the only one who I'd let in. Promises were made and broken, yet I upheld everything that I swore on. He was the glue that was holding me together; at least that's what I thought. It's been almost four months since I was damaged; at first I thought that I simply would not survive through it, but it does, in fact, get better with time.  I don't talk about him, or mention his name; I still get sick to my stomach when I hear his name or see a picture, or think about what he did to me. I had never given anyone all of me, until he came along. He saw what nobody else was allowed to see in me. I let him in; and it came back and bit me in the butt.
I have a completely rational fear of abandonment; my biological father, my adoptive father, once, my mother, therefore, I put up walls. There is a saying that goes something like "People put up walls, not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down".... That's a crock. I want people to stay out. I feel protected and safe when I put on a mask and pretend like I have no feelings.
(If anyone repeats any of this, I will deny it, because I don't have feelings.)
While writing this blog, I found out that my new interest happens to have the same birthday as the douche bag from earlier. Don't know how I feel about that.
It still angers me greatly, what he did to me. It still hurts, and although I try not to, I think about it every day. But, what's a girl to do when he's now 10,000 miles away and on a ship? I do all that I can.. I smile to myself and sincerely hope that he is happy. I smile because I know that Karma sucks, and I hope that he is happy so that Karma can take away that happiness one day.
Anyways, off of my rant... I don't hear very often that I'm beautiful, or gorgeous. It takes me by surprise every time, and I don't understand it completely, but I'm slowly getting used to it. You see, I have body image issues, similar to every young girl out there. I think that I'm too fat and too muscular to be attractive. Silly, I know. But I grew up with that thought in my head, and it stuck. So, when someone tells me that I'm attractive,  it blows my mind, because I never heard anything like that growing up, from anyone.
But... I like the way it makes me feel. So by all means, sweet thang, keep the compliments coming.

Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.

My name is Samantha, and this is the introduction.

Blogging is new to me. Obviously. So, here goes nothing.
I guess this is the part where I talk about things... Today, I thought about it, and I realized what true love is.
I am a student at Appalachian State University in Boone, North Carolina. I hate it. I am from Covington, Louisiana, where it is humid and warm... Not in Boone. It is April 28, 2011, and it is currently 52 degrees outside. Thank goodness that the semester is over and I only have two finals left until I get to go to Lake Wylie, where it is warm and I feel at home. I have had an interesting time here at ASU. I have met fake girls, jerk guys, and very few real people. However, is that not what happens all throughout life?
College is strange. After you graduate from high school, everyone pretty much goes their separate ways, and all that you have left are memories of the good times you had. It's like starting a new life, which can have both negative and positive consequences. People change, as do relationships. It's bittersweet, and I really do miss the old times. I have never really been one for change, so it has taken some getting used to.
It's a sad thing for me; I have two younger siblings. Grace is 13, and Nola will be 8 on May 8th. I feel absent from their lives, and it kills me. No longer am I home with them to fight and cry and hug and love. I must do that from a distance. No longer do we bicker and drive each other crazy; I never thought that I would miss arguing with my sisters.
I have always been the protector of my family. Especially Grace. Nola can pretty much handle herself. Grace is so fragile; she always has been. I feel like I have to protect her. When you say somebody means the world to you.... They are my life. I have a love for them that will never change or falter. Anyways, Grace is sweet. You meet people in life that are sweet, but she is innocent and pure, and I feel like if I don't protect her, the world will taint her. Being physically absent from their lives makes my heart ache. We have never been separated for this long. They say that separation gets easier with time; however, for me that is not the case. I have horrible separation anxiety from my family. A phone call is just not the same as a warm embrace.
The sweet part is coming home. Since Grace is now a teenager, the hormones are raging, and she is full of attitude and eye rolls. But I still get the smirk when she sees me. It's the look of "I have a badass reputation that I am trying to start, so I'm too grown for hugs and kisses". Nevertheless, I get them. I especially love Nola's reaction. I usually get home before she is home from school, so I wait for her to get off the bus. She walks in the front door - sometimes it is locked and I have to let her inside - and she jumps on me. I pick up all of her 60 pounds in my arms, and she squishes my face with her hands and says "SAM!!! I missed you so much!", before wrapping her arms around my neck and hanging onto me like a monkey. These embraces last anywhere from one to five minutes.
Although it is bittersweet, the reunion makes it all worthwhile.
This, my friends, is the epitome of true love.
Signing off for now,
Simply Sam.