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.