Layers

As I have been going through this intense journey of self discovery, therapy and illness something very sad has occurred to me. Something that I think when I look back I intentionally did to myself. Some twisted form of protection. Layers upon layers of protection to be less attractive. To drive away unwanted (and perhaps even wanted) pursuers. Victims of sexual abuse often do this to themselves and it has occurred to me, and is becoming evidently clear that in 13 years, I let myself go from this :


To this:
In the attempts of protection. In some twisted way, even though he doesn't even exist in my life anymore, it would drive him away. Perhaps it's even a punishment. Punishing myself for things I am not at fault for, but at the time felt I was. This statement sounds horribly conceited but I think I felt if I were less attractive, none of this would have happened. I realize that is not a true statement, but as a kid that is how I felt. Now the question is what to do about it. I have let myself go from a 130 pound healthy looking girl to a well....let's just say I am quite fluffy and sporting more than my fair share of extra pounds, my weigh hasn't doubled, but in a few years if I keep going at the rate I am going...well..... I don't want to keep punishing my body for something it is not responsible for.......where to begin? My meds are making me gain weight too and that is making it even harder. Oddly enough they kill my appetite, but I gained 4 pounds in a week....although that could have been my monthly visitor (sorry TMI) anyway...I hate this about myself. I rarely even look in the mirror. I hate what I have become. And it doesn't help that baking is one of my favorite hobbies LOL!

But I feel as if there is some significance in figuring out what the cause is. Maybe at least I can get it stopped, because it seems that every year adds another 5-10 pounds. But my motivation to loose it is very low......lazy? Perhaps. Or perhaps still trying to protect myself........how do you shed the need to do that? I realize as we age our bodies go to hell anyway, and looks don't matter in the grand scheme of things, but when I look at myself in the mirror I often think "What have I done to myself?"

Impaling Palin

Can I just be completely un-liberated, anti-feminist, and chauvinistic for a moment? This thought has been bothering me about Sarah Palin. If you are such a wonderful mother, such a wonderful human being....why wouldn't you pass up the nomination for VP to take care of your 17 year old daughter, who is going to need your support and attention now more than any other time in her life? This is strictly my opinion but if my daughter were pregnant I would be completely focused on figuring out how to help and teach her how to be responsible for this child. As a candidate she is completely unavailable and unfocused on her family. As VP she would be the same. This bothers me. I understand ambition. I have plenty of my own. But if she was that awesome, the offer would have come around again sometime......wouldn't you think it would be better to focus on the problems you have in your own home?

I welcome a debate on this, what do ya'll think. I like her spunk, I disagree with her on almost every issue and I hate that she has flip flopped on so many things, but that's every politician. But this thought about her pregnant teenage daughter keeps popping in my head. Why would you abandon your family when they need you the most? Is power really that important? Even the thought at the chance of being the leader of the free world is not enough to make me toss my kids aside to further my career. Now think about this long and hard before you slam me. I am not saying she doesn't love her kids. But there is no way she is going to be around to help with that baby.....is Bristol going to be left to learn about parenting with a Nanny and her Dad? As a mother myself, helping with life changing milestones are some of the things I look forward to (and also dread) the most.......Just my opinion, but I think she has made a bad call for her family, a choice fueled by being power hungry.

Manic Musings

I am feeling quite 'energetic' ie hypomanic this evening and all the windows have been washed and floors scrubbed so I am just hanging out at the computer trying to occupy my mind. I was putting tunes on my iPod and came across and old song that I love. Of course it seems at least once a week I am posting song lyrics, but I can't help it. Music is poetry in motion and it can move me to places in my mind and soul that affect me deeply.

The song "Best of You" by the Foo Fighters was a song that I could relate to so strongly when it first came out. Not because I felt like I was hanging onto a relationship with bare knuckles as the song suggests...but because I think every lover I have ever had has felt this way about me. Perhaps even some of my friends and loved ones. I am always pulling away....always drifting...and those that love me always seem to be hoping I don't drift away from them completely. So many things in my life have caused me to build a wall and always wait for another bomb to drop. If things get too good...I am wary...I was especially like this as a child. But as I get older it's better. I see that only I can create my destiny. But this song sums me up....I would venture to guess my husband feels this way about me. And maybe rightly so....

I've got another confession to make
I'm your fool
Everyone's got their chains to break
Holdin' you
Were you born to resist or be abused?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

Are you gone and onto someone new?
I needed somewhere to hang my head
Without your noose
You gave me something that I didn't have
But had no useI was too weak to give in
Too strong to lose
My heart is under arrest again
But I break loose
My head is giving me life or death
But I can't choose
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you mustConfess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?


Oh...Oh...Oh...Oh...Oh...
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
The life, the love
You die to heal
The hope that starts
The broken hearts
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

I've got another confession my friend
I'm no fool
I'm getting tired of starting again
Somewhere new
Were you born to resist or be abused?
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?Oh...

Perhaps it's someone...Perhaps it's something...but I'm always a step away, a step ahead or a step behind. Sometimes I wonder if I have some emotional defect that prevents me from walking side by side with anyone.

Let it Die

I am sure that I am way behind the times in my discovery of the song “Let it Die” by the Foo Fighters. (Give me a break, I'm stuck with Barney and Laurie Berkner everyday) I felt compelled to blog about it. WOW! I wonder how long he held that in before he had to put a pen to paper to scream his sentiments to Kurt Cobain. I can sympathize.

As a member of the Nirvana generation, I can honestly say that his death affected me profoundly, especially the manner of his death. This man, this voice, who spoke my thoughts and sang my truths….this man who represented every nonconformity that blossomed out of my rebel soul….threw it all away by chewing the wrong end off of a shot gun. Much like Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison before him, here was a man with a message, a vision, a pied piper to millions of young people begging for guidance and desperate for reassurance that we were not alone in our isolation and pain. Confused and rejected, abused and neglected…Nirvana was our megaphone. The album Nevermind is probably top on my list of life changing musical discoveries. And I discovered it before it was cool, before it had radio or MTV play. Some of my punk rock comrades had discovered the band through the underground network and we all began sharing bootleg copies of several of the songs on their upcoming album, including Smells Like Teen Spirit…to this day that song makes me feel young and anxious. I wish I still had a copy of the original, unpolished, un-produced version...it was absolutely amazing.

Dave Grohl clearly was blindsided by the death of his friend and band mate. The lyrics speak for themselves when he says “Why’d you have to go and let it die?”, repeated over and over as if he is trying to say them enough times to reach the afterlife and let Kurt hear them and ponder them. And his anger at having his dreams dashed by this one stupid moment... “Did you ever think of me? You’re so considerate. Did you ever think of me? Oh, you’re so considerate!” Not to mention the reference to Kurt’s blushing bride, Courtney Love.

Oddly enough upon a google search, Grohl claims this song is not about Kurt……Bullshit.

The Blind leading The Blind?

So...if the idea of going back to school to finish my BA, at the least, is still on the table....is it odd that I am leaning towards Psychology, given my recent issues? I have considered such a degree for years, but now I am wondering if I would be setting myself up for trouble if I dedicate myself to a career dealing with other people's mental health. There is a huge part of me that feels my own life experience, especially now, but including my childhood that can lend an empathetic understanding to people I would be working with. I would eventually like to earn my Master's and continue on as a therapist....but what happens when I am having a hard time myself. It would not be good to be listening to a suicidal patient while I am in the throes of depression myself....I can see the headlines now "Therapist and Patient throw themselves off local bridge...." That would not be good....and yes I am poking fun at a serious topic...but it's a logical scenario right? I mean even with the best meds and therapy in the world I am going to have ups and downs... and what happens on those days when I have to face someone who is struggling and I am struggling too? How does that work? We go to the local pub and get smashed and hope tomorrow is a better day for both of us???

My other option is an English degree. Obviously writing is my passion, literature is too. However, around here, out in the boonies, the best I can hope for is to be an English teacher at the local Jr. College...more likely a high school teacher. And everyone hates their English teacher LOL! Everyone except me of course! It was my favorite class. I actually enjoyed writing term papers! I made some good money in Jr. College writing term papers for other students :0)~ Always the saint... but see then I just spent the money on beer and weed. A smart girl would have socked it away to help pay for another 2 years of school. I wasn't the brightest or most ambitious of gals back then....give me a live band and a dime bag and I was happy for the night! What I wouldn't give to redo a lot of those years.

So that is the dilemma of the moment....anybody got any brilliant ideas?

Hello, It's Me Again.

I am feeling so much more like me again. There are side effects and fuzzy things to deal with, memory loss, concentration issues etc...but lets be honest, if you know me in real life that's always been a problem, it's just a little worse right now. I smoked my short term memory years ago in a desperate attempt to escape my realities, and well who the hell can concentrate on anything with two toddlers...I mean really?

I am writing with a grateful heart tonight. I feel myself being reborn. I certainly have a long row to hoe....there are new skills to learn and I have to take better care of myself. I will deal with the ups and downs of this for the rest of my life...but I feel like the epicenter of this nightmare is finally behind me. These meds are working, despite the side effects.

I am currently listening to a song that touches me in 1000 ways....it reminds me of someone, it reminds me of me, it reminds me of life and all human relationships...and it has the most beautiful words I wanted to share it with you:

The Space Between
You cannot quit me so quickly
There's no hope in you for me
No corner you could squeeze me
But I got all the time for you, love

The Space Between
The tears we cry
Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain

But will I hold you again?
These fickle, fuddled words confuse me
Like 'Will it rain today?'
Waste the hours with talking, talking
These twisted games we're playing

We're strange allies
With warring hearts
What wild-eyed beast you be
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain
copyright Dave Matthews

Obviously this is only half the song, but truth be told I am tired of copying and pasting, Blogger doesn't paste it right and you have to edit it....uggghh. I added it to my playlist...just go listen to it. It is such a beautiful snapshot of human relationships....all varieties of them. And a beautiful description of some of the relationships in my life.

Finally a Normal, Insanely Odd Blog

So is anyone else around here sick and tired of reading about me being sick and tired?

I am feeling pretty good today and trying to get things back to normal around here. I've cleaned house today and have generally felt normal. I have the house to myself for a few hours so I have been surfing for music online and came across an old song that I used to love. It's a Marilyn Manson song. And I thought what a perfect thing to blog about! LOL! It's time to start writing about all the crazy shit I usually write about. And hey, we've been teetering on the edge of insanity all week...who better to talk about than the big, bad, scary, and insane devil boy, Marilyn Manson?

Yeah, I am a fan. Shocked? Ok yeah, at this point not much would shock you about me right? Well let me tell you why I am a fan. Because he is honest. You don't have to like it, agree with it, or even be able to stomach it...but let me tell you, he is the voice of an entire community of young people in this country. People like me who grew up surrounded by nightmares, poor, independent punks, the quiet intellectual ones and even the pretty young things on the soccer team living in the perfect suburban neighborhoods. He writes about the raw, gutting emotions of adolescence. The pain and doubts in your mind as you struggle with your screwed up life, wondering if you will ever escape. Those who are silently suffering from depression or other mental illness. Those of us with parents who weren't there, or incapable of parenting. Those of us with parents who tried to be the perfect parent or even just wanted to appear to be the perfect parents, but never once listened to angst in our hearts....So many kids grow up without any guidance at the crucial age of adolescence. I did. It created some pretty screwed up thoughts and doubts in my life as a teen. When I was 17 or 18, along came this artist who was just shockingly brutal, blasphemous, scary and controversial....I loved it! (of course) The Alice Cooper of my generation!

Now my hick town is full of metal heads and rock and roll lover's...but this dude was NOT creating fans among the coutry boy metal heads I grew up with. He was a little too poetic and cryptic for them....they needed sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. I hid my Manson fetish and spent many nights listening all alone to this voice who spewed his hatred for society and organized religion in that seductively evil voice. Now let me be clear, I didn't always approve of or agree with the things Mr. Manson has proclaimed in his music or elsewhere....but I loved the fact that he had the balls to say it. Kind of like my love for Larry Flynt, he is one sick f'ker, but damn it I like him! I have the same love for Ted Nugent - who I disagree with on almost every political issue LOL! They just say what they're gonna say and don't give a shit what you have to say about it!

So anyway, back to my rebelious teenage angst...I fell in love with Manson's first album called Portrait of an American Family It represented the inner turmoil of every American child growing up in homes where they were abused, molested, neglected and ignored. The kids who were being bullyed in school and in society. The kids disillusioned with religion as the reality of adult hypocrasy started crashing down on them. Those kids who were outcasts. Then Anti Christ Superstar came out...boy did that cause some controversy! Of course, I loved it!

His lyrics aren't for the faint of heart...some of them are down right sick...but they ring true in the ears of the angry teen. They are empowering and you feel less alone as you realize that somebody gets it. Somebody gets it. Now that statement isn't going to make sense to those of you who enjoyed a beautiful childhood, and God Bless you. And I need to add mine was not all bad I have very fond memories of things in my childhood...but there are nightmares that overpower those memories more often than not. And I became one of these angry, confused teens....Marilyn Manson was my Jim Morrison....

He was my first ever rock concert. It was awesome. There were churches protesting outside the arena, it was insane. At the time I was in a very vacant place regarding my faith and what I believed. I grew up in a fanatically religious home, but of course I was never one who accepted the spoon fed doctrine, I asked too many questions and did too much of my own research (why believe something if you don't really know why), I questioned sacred scripture *gasp*. I was considered rebellious and blasphemous! Having a mother who was mentally unstable didn't help this matter at all of course. I didn't know what I believed anymore...

Ok, so back to the concert...the big stink about this show was that Manson had been ripping up a Bible during part of his performance. That doesn't go over too well in the Bible Belt. There were TV news crews everywhere! I had skipped class to go and I was just sure my English professor was going to see me on TV and would know I lied about a family emergency! (I know..that was just plain bad...) So I snuck in a side entrance...

The show was amazing, the energy was wild, the theatrics were more than Alice Cooper could have ever imagined and the crowd loved it! Yes, he tore up the Bible. Did I cry about it? No. Would I cry about it today if I saw it? No. At that time, and even now, I celebrate that fact that we are allowed such freedom of expression in our country. The fact that he could display his contempt for organized religion and it's man made rules, or that a citizen can burn his flag in protest of the horrible decisions our government has made at times....these are true freedoms. And feeling free enough to do them, with little care or thought of the opinion of others is an awesome thing to me. Maybe I am weird....

Would I ever tear up my Bible? No....it has brought me far too much comfort over the years. Would I care if you tear up yours? No...do what you gotta do...cause I've been in that place in my head and in my heart...and I think freedom of expression is a treasured liberty.

Whoa...you got a soap box full that time huh? And probably about a topic you could care less about! LOL....I guess I'm back!

P.S. I considered adding Manson tunes to my playlist here...but I didn't want to scare any readers away!!! Ha! I wonder where the hell that guy has gone anyway....he'll probably die young...The most brilliant ones always do.

P.S.S. * a few hours later * Ok I added one anyway, it's one you can surely tolerate, probably the most sedate song in his repertoire

Already bucking the system

Well I made it through the day....hubby went back to work today and I survived with my two kids alone without hiding under the covers...at least until he got home. It takes so much energy to 'fake it' for them, that tonight I feel like I have run a marathon. I feel like I am walking through water. My brain is empty. My emotions are numb.

I can tell the double dose of Cymbalta created some manic symptoms today, they were a welcome reprieve from the depths of despair of earlier this week. I can see why so many bipolar patients end up refusing treatment or not staying on course....If I were completely honest with myself I would tell you that I strongly fear loosing the mania. The energy. The creativity. The lack of need for sleep. The crazy antics and the wild hair ideas. Part of me doesn't want to find the 'happy medium'. And I think if I didn't have kids I would refuse treatment. But the crash involved when the mania escapes is too much of a burden on my family. And while I have yet to ever be suicidal I am aware that if bipolar disorder goes untreated for years the depression side of it come become down right scary. I don't want to be that person. So I am going to have to be willing to sacrifice some of my crazy ass energy and tendencies in order to become a more stable and healthy person. I am afraid of it.

The more research I do, the more I can already say I have become very prejudice to Lithium and I pray that this drug is not something on the agenda for me. There are so many drugs out there to try...I will push for an alternative. As a writer, as an artist, as a creative person I refuse to sacrifice myself to the numbing holy altar of Lithium. I watched my mother succumb to this drug as well, and in the end it was not appropriate for her condition, but the side affects were sad. I don't want to be a zombie....and perhaps I am mistaken about this drug, but I will fight to keep it out of my body. I want to be well informed about the drugs that are going to be shoved down me to try to make me 'normal'

Funny I didn't used to worry about any drugs I consumed...the more the better, and the greater the intoxication the better....now here I am 'clean'... and all fucked up in the head....ain't life just a barrel of monkeys.

P.S. Some of you may have noticed a big change in my playlist....big changes in life called for some more appropriate tunes....enjoy

The Crash

There was no doubt it was coming, it hit hard. Hard enough that I found myself closing the daycare for a few days and making an appointment with my Dr. I hesitate to even write this because, while my blog is somewhat anonymous....it's not really. It's not hard to do enough Google searches for my name and not come up with this at some point in time. And I have to confess that I lied to my daycare parents and said I was getting a horrible migraine. I suppose if any of the ever find this blog they will know I lied to them. But how do you explain that you are about to hit the bottom of the ocean mentally for a few days? Is there any way to say "I swear I'm not nuts and your children are completely safe with me...I'm just going to be cracked up for a few days, I am aware of the problem and have made an app. with my Dr...I'll be better in a few days..." Someone who has never had to deal with this, or have a loved one deal with this are not going to understand that. I fear instead they will think I have lost my marbles....maybe I have.

Anyway I am getting side tracked here, which is likely to happen often right now....this crash came with lots of words to be purged. I feel a bit compelled to document this particular wave of darkness. Most of the time I write nothing, no blogs, e-mails to friends, poetry...nothing, I just hide out in my darkness for a few days. Maybe I am tired of hiding. Maybe this is a manic episode.....???

This started weeks ago, with my worries about my marriage, anxiety about wanting to go back to college, kids kids and more kids, and all the other baggage I carry from my past that always seems to push this pirate ship along. A pirate ship is a good analogy for that....because it just kind of stalks you for a while before it overtakes you and the ship you are sailing on. I have been having more and more anxiety attacks lately. In fact before we even went on our vacation, I was having the vertigo symptoms and the tightening of the chest...but I didn't talk about it, here or anywhere. It's easier to ignore something if you don't acknowledge it.

Today, after having a rough day here at home yesterday, my anxiety level became overwhelming. All the noises of the kids and the energy and activity made me jumpy, nervous and dizzy. I wasn't lying when I called all the parents about a headache, my brain felt like it was going to explode just from trying to hold back this tidal wave until my work day was over. I failed. My husband came home from work early, and I have to give him some well deserved praise tonight. He can hold it together when I am loosing it. I am the one crisis in life he can handle...when he has to. He has only seen me in this particular state a few times. This is one of the worst that I can ever remember. But he takes it seriously and doesn't patronize me or guilt me into crawling out from under the covers....he rubs my back and tries to get me to eat and fields all my phone calls to my friends. Some know and some don't...and he's fine with telling the ones who know that I am having a rough time at the moment...not ashamed to admit his wife is cracking up. It's times like this I know why I want him by my side forever. I can bitch all I want about housework and fighting....but he really came through for me tonight.

Now the house is quiet and everyone is asleep. This is the most comfortable I have felt all day. Possibly because I am sedated. But there is something about the night time that is easier for people who are in a depressed state. I think most anyone who has suffered from depression will agree with that. We are the insomniacs glued to the infomercials at night because it's easier to be dark of mood when it's dark of night. It's easier to be cynical and shitty when the rest of the world is asleep. Sunshine and daytime noises make our skin crawl. It's the night time that you feel a bit human again. (or vampirish?? uggh...which then makes you feel crazy again). I have never had a panic attack at night that I can recall. And it's a welcome relief right now that it is finally nighttime, now I just fear tomorrows episode of "Freaked Out Farm Lady".

This is the strangest episode I have had since right after my mom passed away. After her death I somehow stopped crying. I cried for weeks and then they were gone. Tears didn't come, even at times that were appropriate. But for some reason today, much like I was after her death, I am a basket case of tears. I know now that I was also experiencing panic attacks at that time, but had not yet been diagnosed. For the first time since that happened I am suddenly very depressed while also experiencing these attacks. They usually don't coincide for me. Perhaps I am having a nervous breakdown....I have finally lost it.

While I know that rationally that is not what is happening to me, there is that panic creeping up. That long long fear that I have had of going insane like my mother. My Dr. has tried to reassure me time and time again that there is no way I suffer from her disorder...but I think anytime I feel a little off kilter, or fall into a depressed state I fear that this if finally the big one, as if there is going to be some spontaneous combustion in my brain that will create the same monsters in my head that she suffered.

I mentioned that the tears were flowing tonight. They are falling like raindrops from a hurricane. My eyes hurt and burn right now. I keep trying to hide them from the kids, and then crying even harder when I am alone because I feel guilty that they have a fucked up Mom right now. I am the mother who is there 24/7 providing full attention, and suddenly I am a mess. My head is spinning and I can't think because I am having a panic attack, or I am laying in bed staring at nothing, trying to fake a smile make eye contact with them when they walk in...(they think I have a headache too...they are too young to deal with the real illness, IMO) So then when they leave I cry into my pillow even harder because it hurts to muster up the strength to fake it and it hurts that my kids have to know this as a reality in their life. Their Mom suffers from clinical depression...maybe bipolar, we shall see...and that will forever be a fact in their lives. I hope that by being pro-active in my health care and curbing a crisis like this one ASAP I can prevent them from having to see what I saw growing up...seeing a few tears on Mommy's face is a far cry from some of the shit I saw, heard and witnessed.

Anxiety is creeping up on me pretty bad as I write this one last little bit. If I am diagnosed as bipolar, am I going to loose my day care license? Great...one more thing to freak out about. Gotta go cry now.....

I should have kept the July 8th appointment, I know some of you are thinking that too...we saw this coming....next time I will go with my gut.

Watching the Tide

It's like watching a tidal wave race toward the shore and your feet are stuck in the sand...heavy, like a concrete blocks. You want to run away from it, find shelter and safety, but all you can do is stand there and wait, knowing it's going to hit, and hurt, and swallow you. The best you can do is try to remember to hold your nose and not to panic.

That's what depression feels like for me. Sometimes I don't see it coming, it just hits like a speeding car into a brick wall...but other times, like right now, the storm brews and the winds increase and I can see the waves getting higher and higher until suddenly that huge, disastrous wave comes barrelling towards me. I am about to be hit. Hard. Depression is rearing it's ugly head to me and I am bracing for the assault. I can feel my defenses gearing up, my emotions retreating and pulling away, the walls going up to try and protect myself in some ridiculously desperate way. Tears well up, and I suck them back, refusing to be weak and let them go. Knowing this does more harm than good...but it has been my defense mechanism since I was a child.

Oddly enough a book put me over the edge. I have been struggling for months with issues I have discussed here, and some I never discuss with anyone...but I bought The Heroin Diaries by Nikki Sixx after listening to his band rock out in St. Louis a week ago. Reading his struggle with depression and addiction and the anger and abandonment he felt from his childhood seemed to stir up some really really dark things inside me. Things I hate to face. Things I refuse to acknowledge. Things I think I pretend didn't really happen to me.

I have always felt that good literature stirs up your emotions, gets you out of your comfort zone...I never expected to put this rock and roll diary in that category...but I am a mess at the moment. White Oleander did this to me as well....forced me to deal with some shit I've swallowed down and tucked away somewhere deep in my soul. Common sense would tell me that I need therapy to learn to deal with my past, perhaps the waves of depression would subside a bit....but then there is my brain telling me I can't deal with it and can't dredge it all up again. I fear that doing that would end my sanity. For good. Maybe I am insane, who fucking knows.....

I'll be back when I am feeling better...or if I feel worse...who knows. Sometimes writing helps. Sometimes there are no words. But the crash is coming, I can feel it. This will be a bad week.

Psycho Mommy Dysphoric Disorder

Yup....I think I have found the problem to all my problems...for this week anyway! I have noticed the older I get, the worse my PMS symptoms get. Gone are the cramps and bloating of my youth...ok I'm lying they are still there...they are just over shadowed by my psycho acid tripping freaked out mental status!! In the past few days I have hurt someone I care deeply about by blowing them off....found my self screaming back at my children as they are screaming at me (ok, maybe that's not as rare of an occurrence as I'd like to think it is)...I've been hypersensitive, annoyingly analytical, irritable and just down right shitty! Even despite a kick ass rock show....

Guess who showed up today...of course while I am in a movie theatre with six children seeing a free matinee of the worst kids movie ever made...you, you guessed it, mother nature! (Sorry boys...I know this blog really isn't your cup of tea, but next time your wife is acting psycho...go away, she's getting ready to start...and if you bring it up to her, try to be sensitive about it or try to comfort her, she is just going to whack you over the head with a skillet....mark my words just go away....golf sounds good right?) Once again I was unprepared for this little surprise. I have got to start keeping track of my cycle. Since I am done having children and don't take the pill anymore I am always forgetting to pay attention to when it might be showing up. Part of me thinks it would be worth it to be back on the pill just to maybe curb some of these symptoms. Maybe that's the cause. Before kids I was on the pill for probably 10 years, I never had PMS trouble much. Now I seem to turn into Aileen Wuornos or something...ugggh

A friend of mine mentioned PMDD the other day...she thinks she might suffer from it...I wasn't really even sure what all the symptoms were...and I don't know that it's what my problem is...but I think Psycho Mommy Dysphoric Disorder sounds about right! LMAO But you know that's gonna be my excuse for everything now...

Dirty Boys

For those of you who are too lazy to keep scrolling you can read my review of Crue Fest 2008 here.

This blog is strictly for the ladies! LOL!! Those of us suburban housewives and farm mommies who have that secret fantasy to be devoured by sweaty, tattoo covered rocker....Count me in!

It all started in 6th grade with Duff McKagan. When Guns N' Roses hit the scene all the girls went gaga for Axyl Rose....not me....I was nutso over the quiet, dirty, skinny bass player

In 1994 his pancreas exploded, yup exploded, nearly killing him, and his liver was failing. The doctors told him he had a month to live if he continued down that road. He had to get clean or die.

We had the chance to see Velvet Revolver in 2005 and girls, I am not joking a bit...that man is like a fine wine....this is what he looks like now:Having kicked his alcohol and herion habit by adopting a very strict martial arts routine and zen lifestyle he was only about 20 feet from me in all his sweaty glory!!!! I told my husband I wanted to run on stage and just lick a little sweat off his chest!!! (Yes, hubby found this hilarious....he knows me well....LOL)

Developing a love for hard rock/heavy metal thanks to the debut of Guns N' Roses, I quickly discovered scores of other 'hair metal' bands I had been missing out on. (Hey a 12 year old girl from BFE with only 1 college radio station to hear rock music on, lives a sheltered life...) Along came Motley Crue. Of course they had been out for almost 10 years by the time I discovered them but whoooo boy! While all the ladies love Tommy Lee...this one included...I was once again drawn to the quiet bass player....with the heroin addiction....I am seeing a theme now that I look back...hmmm

Of course I couldn't go for the guys who just liked to sling booze and chase girls....nooooo....I was crushing on the guy who had literally died of a heroin overdose and somehow survived, only to be released from the hospital to go shoot up again....he woke up with a needle in his arm the next day...in my mind, clearly this guy was kept alive for a reason. Today he is clean and championing the cause for addicts. He published The Heroin Diaries and formed a band to create an accompanying soundtrack. He is, after all, a songwriter first and foremost, and no autobiography of him would be complete without music. They called themselves Sixx A.M. Not expecting radio play or recognition, that's not what this project was about....but as fate would have it, they are hugely successful, with the message and the music touching thousands upon thousands of fans who have struggled with some sort of addiction, disease or disaster in their lives. He used to be an object of my desires....ok he still might be...but today he is one of my heroes!

Oh and then there's Buckcherry's Josh.....Josh Todd.....mmmm my Lord. Maybe it's the tattoos. Maybe it's the Mick Jagger Swagger...maybe it's the razor sharp voice...maybe it's the adorable pictures of this tatted up rocker with his beautiful children...but once again I have a school girl crush on a dirty sweaty rock star!!

And he rocked my world Sunday night in St. Louis!!! I am still in pain.....it's hell getting old!

St. Louis Crue Fest 2008 Review

We had a fabulous time and I will tell you all about it in another post, this blog is intended to be my review of the actual concert, Crue Fest 2008, only the first of what I hope to see as a continuing summer festival.

We arrived shorty before the first band was scheduled to hit the stage at 5 p.m. I was very surprised to find only one fan attraction outside the seating area, the Guitar World contest, where mucisians battle each other through the power of technology. The last time we came to see Motley Crue, during the Carnival of Sins, tour, there were parties, live radio feeds, chances to win front row seats and backstage passes, and even a guitar autographed by Mick Marrs and Nikki Sixx. I expected similar activities, especially at a concert with 5 bands playing in a summer festival type tour...but nothing. Just beer and food...so we ate and drank.

My disappointment in the lack of mayhem ensuing in the vending area was soon swept away by a nice cold $10 beer and the sounds of the first band taking the stage. I am not going to lie, I didn't expect to be impressed. I knew one song this band sang, it's a great song, but other than that I was clueless as to their style or talent. Can I just say when Trapt hit the stage I was absolutely blown away by the power in this boy's voice. I have since done some research to find out his name is Chris Brown. Watch this band. Any rock radio station worth their salt is going to be spinning their tunes sooner rather than later. I was incredibly impressed. Their style of music captured my attention from the first song...striking, strong and full of a beat and rhythm you found your body moving to, even when you were trying to limit movement in your spot on the grass under 95 degree blaring sunshine....I was sad to see them finish their set!

The masses began to pour in as we all awaited for Sixx A.m. to take the stage at sixx p.m. (har har I'm so funny...) Any real Crue fan worth their salt was there to support our favorite bass player Nikki Sixx in his side project, which has turned out to be a wildly popular success with their first album. It was easy to spot who the real Motley Crue fans were in the crowd from the moment they hit the stage. Curious rock fans, and people looking for a fun way to kill a Sunday night were clueless as to the significance of the this performance. Crue fans were on our fucking feet! Jumping dancing, screaming our heads off....yes, once again in the blaring sun, sweating out our beer as fast as we could drink it. They rocked the house with a flawless set that included a wide sampling of their musical talents.....for the second time of the night I was sad to see a band leave the stage.

Now I've got to be honest with you once again, I am not as familiar with Papa Roach as some of the younger kids in the crowd. I recognized their radio hits instantly, but much of their music was new to me. I fully expected to take a bit of rest and rehydrate with more alcohol and a bit of water after dancing and screaming in the hot sun for 2 hours already. I knew I would enjoy their set, but I figured I would enjoy it from the comfort of my itchy, grassy, sweaty butt. Folks let me tell ya, every time they broke into song I was on my feet. They just made it impossible to sit still!! They were fabulous. I found them to be an extremely energetic band that knew how to play to the crowd and work us into a frothing frenzy by the end of their set. So much for resting!! The heat was starting to subside a bit, but we actually saw a woman hauled out to an ambulance, presumably from heat exhaustion....wouldn't that suck, to pay to see 5 bands and pass out in the middle of band #3....anyhoo

Finally it was time for Buckcherry. Clearly several fans were in the audience with the primary goal of seeing them, with Motley Crue simply being a novelty act and the previous bands being a bonus to seeing the latest and greatest rock band to hit the air waves in recent years. Personally I was anxiously awaiting their performance myself. I have a not-so-secret crush on Josh Todd (I am convinced his tattoos would be candy flavored if I licked them all ;0), and the band itself plays some kick ass rocking grooves. If you call yourself a rock and roll fan, and find yourself able to sit still through a Buckcherry song....well...you ain't very rock and roll. They rocked the house and made the girls swoon (this one too....) and the crowd was wild for them! Josh's vocals were outstanding and the music was flawless. They ripped us all to shreds with "Cocaine"...I thought I was going to have a heart attack...but I just couldn't stop moving! LOL! "Sorry" was beautiful and hubby and I even got a little mushy....but I have to shamelessly admit to you that I couldn't fight mother nature any longer and had to make a trip to the bathroom before their closing song "Crazy Bitch" was over.....ughhh...I was the only girl in the bathroom of course...no rock chick would leave for that song, except an aging mother of two who had guzzled about 4 liters of beer...but it was that or water the lawn ( a thought which crossed my mind). Since it was the closing song they dragged it out for a looooooong looooooong time, so I had gotten to shake my ass, to my heart's content before the urge to pee was overwhelming....but clearly I am getting old...LOL!

Up until this point I was amazed that every single band who took the stage gave such stellar perfomances! I had gotten more than my money's worth so far getting to see Motley Crue again would just be the icing on the cake.

As an official Crue Slut (the proper term for a female Crue fan....men being Crue Heads of course) it feels sort of sacrilegious to give them a bad review. But strictly from the view of a chick who has seen these guys rock the fuckin' house down...this was not their best performance. Not that we didn't have fun...we had a blast!!! OMG I hurt so bad today it's not funny. We have the obligatory headbangers whiplash, and my body feels like it was run over by one of the tour buses. Entertainment wise, the show rocked. Performance wise....well...Vince was clearly struggling. The last time we saw the Crue I was impressed with his stamina and it was clear he had worked very hard preparing for thst tour (Carnival of Sins) and kept his voice in shape. Last night he had a hard time singing complete verses and missed a lot of words and he let the crowd do a lot of the singing for him. Not that we cared. Who am I to judge really...I was so out of breath I couldn't sing along to it all either...hard as I tried. He is only human after all. I still came away from the show feeling like I had been dragged from one end of a rodeo to another by a barrel horse, so it was good times!!!

Nikki and Tommy were tearing it up as usual, the Terror Twins forever and always (ok maybe only a small shadow of the wild kids they used to be, but then again, so am I ...with Tommy rallying the crowd against the local government for banning the traditional Motley "Titty Cam", where Tommy spans the crowd for the most beautiful (and some down right frightening) bare breasts....we've seen many many a booby on the big screen, but not last night....much to the "BOOOOOOOO" of the crowd! LOL!

Hubby and I both found our heart aching for Mick Mars, who was clearly struggling by the end of the show with pain. He looked much more stooped and slumped since the last time we saw him and he shuffled slowly to his favorite little spot. However, when that frail aging man picks up his guitar he slays the crowd every single time!!! He is one of the true Guitar Hero's and gets very little recognition for it. His style is undeniable with that familiar, heavy, tuned down sound. Supposedly he tunes his guitar to "D'" rather than the standard "E" which lends that deep strong sound. I stood in awe watching him on the monitor as the cameras captured his solo performances. After the show he was moving very slowly and holding his hip, in obvious agony as they took their bow and he quietly exited the stage in his stacked heel boots, which hide his more than 6" shrinkage since he was first diagnosed with ankylosing spondylitis. He can't move his head from side to side and his body is hunched and slumped over so far you want to just hug him....but the man keeps rockin' the house night after night. I can't imagine how much pain he is in, and clearly he is either needing his other hip replaced, or his hip replacement is failing him. I was nearly moved to tears watching him quietly take his exit while the other boys stood with their hands raised, soaking in the cheers and screams from the crowd, filling their egos and basking in the glory. Mick silently shuffled out, head hanging low, unable to move much except for those golden fingers that never fail to get my adrenaline pumping!!

Hang in there Mick!!! We love you!!

Stay tuned for soon to be written blogs about our experience at the show. I have so much to say, I might end up driving you nuts....LOL! Up next is my obsession with dirty boys, particularly Nikki Sixx and Josh Todd....mmmmm don't miss it girls! LMAO!!! Until then I am going to go take my third dose of Ibuprofen for the day, go to bed and pray that tomorrow I can actually move my body a bit better than today.....

Little Girls Lost...and Found

I had the wonderful opportunity to reconnect with an old friend tonight! After having one of those days when you literally want to crawl in a corner, put your hands over your ears and rock back and forth like a self soothing toddler...it was refreshing. I won't lie, I didn't even want to go. I wanted to visit with her, but my day was so bad today that the thought of loading up the kids and traveling to town just seemed like a 50 mile hike...but I did it. And I am so glad!

It is my opinion that few people really know you. The real you. There are few people who know what you have grown up with. The joys, the struggles, the dramas and the nightmares. Even rare are people who went through it with you, with similar struggles and life experiences. I have a few people like this in my life, not many. The Mommy I got to meet up with tonight is one of them. We were joined at the hip from the time we were toddlers until our pre-teens. As close as sisters we played, fought, shared secrets, and watched each other suffer some similar heart aches in our childhoods. We have both grown into wives and mothers (dare I say Smokin' Hot Mamas! LOL) and have come through the other side of our darker childhood dramas fairly healthy and level headed. I'd say we both did a pretty damn good, considering the things we have been through.

It's so easy to be with someone like her. Someone who truly knows you. Maybe not the current events in your life...but the core of you. Someone who shares memories of you being the buck toothed girl learning to ride a bike, or the boy crazy girl kissing the posters on her wall. It's so easy to just be.....just be....not have to put up a front, or hide your flaws, or feel like you need to make some sort of impression. The impressions we have of each other were formed long long ago when we were inseparable little girls, with single moms, no dads, crazy grandmas and plenty of attitude! :0)~

A reconnection with a kindred spirit is always a blessing. I am blessed.

And since I know you are reading this...I love ya girl!!

Cheeseburger in Paradise!

I mentioned in an earlier post about the way my friends and I were raised, with a work hard/play hard mentality. Well here we are, all of us between the ages of 30-40.....and the mentality has not changed. I thought ya'll might enjoy seeing some pics of my weekend. This is how Rednecks get down....there are no night clubs in the boonies. Hire a D.J. (who happens to be your neighbor) set him up in your garage and party down!! To protect the innocent..errr guilty...I have blurred some faces of those who might not take kindly to being on my blog...

Note the guns and camouflage! LOL! It doesn't get much more redneck than this...unless of course you are down on the river, which is equally as fun!!

It was a Margarita party, and some of us got into it more than others...but we all got laid...I mean leid...I mean those flowery things you put around your neck...however you spell it! Get you mind out of the gutter! Although there was some wild dancing...good thing hubby doesn't read my blog!

This is him bumpin' uglies with the host!! LMAO! And no, I am not horrible at doing his laundry, he is drenched in sweat!

Ever notice how Rednecks all drink beer at a Margarita Party?......although I did put an umbrella in mine!

And yes, finally, here is me....I do actually exist, although I hate posting pics of myself...ugghh...clearly I was having fun! (That is a friend's hubby with me) My shirt is wet from dancing in the rain, I swear I had not spilled my drink all over myself...yet....and just don't ask how I got the beads!!

I guess we never really do outgrow our childhood do we? Although it wasn't all fun and games. A bus load full of a bachelor party stopped in (yes they were invited) full of drunk boys, including some from a rival town. Sometime I will have to blog about the turf wars around here. Rednecks get pretty viscous about their territory...and these boys have clashed since we were kids. There was a pretty big scrap and a little bit of blood, but the party raged on into the wee hours of the morning! Jimmy Buffet would be proud!

Doubts or Denial and the Saga of Underachievement

So less than a week ago I was trying to Face the Music about the fact that maybe I am bipolar. Now I am second guessing my self. I don't know if it is an attempt to excuse away something I don't want to be a fact, or if I truly was over reacting to some of my recent behavior. I could chalk a lot of it up to stress, relationship problems, and a bad case of PMS! Maybe I am in denial, but I feel a lot better lately. I am still keeping my Dr. appointment, I refuse to ride that roller coaster of "Oh I'm not crazy everyone else is...." accompanied by "I feel like something is wrong" one day and "I feel fine" the next. I would suspect I just need some good old fashioned counselling!! But who has time to go see a shrink? I barely have time to shower!

Sometimes I think that a huge part of my problem is always feeling like I am not living up to my potential. A comment like that would upset my husband because he always takes it so personally, as if the life I have with him is not enough. But I try to explain to him that it has nothing to do with him. It has everything to do with the fact that I spent my youth wallowing in self destruction and running from nightmares, rather than focusing on my education and using my brain in a manner that is fitting for my particular talents. Even if I had an award winning career as an English Lit Professor at Harvard (ok, maybe I pushing it a bit :0) I still would have taken these years off to raise my kids, but perhaps I would have had outlets and opportunities to continue making money in a manner more fulfilling and less exhausting than the three-four jobs I am currently trying to juggle. Perhaps my disheveled appearance and unorganized home would be a quirky trait of my creativity to my mother in law, rather than an embarrassing character flaw. Perhaps my moodiness and manic bursts of creativity would actually be making me money rather than making me fear I am loosing my marbles.

I keep saying once the kids are older I am going to finish my education. My husband is not as supportive of this as I would like him to be, but I will do it with or without his support. I refuse to spend my life underachieving. I spent half my life doing it already. I want to change that. Somehow.

So anybody want to hire a half cocked, fully crazed, under educated, under achiever?

What If What If What If

What if all the good 'crazy' (for lack of a better term) things about me disappear?? What if there is no more air guitar to Van Halen in the kitchen? What if there is no more shameless humiliation for the sake of the children's giggles. What if my ballsy attitude disappears? Will I still be able to talk the leg of a stranger I bump into at the store? Will I still be brave and fearless? Will people still see me as 'perky'? I like those things about me.

Rationally I understand that these things are part of who I am....I don't know why I worry about loosing them, but I do.

I made my appointment. The soonest they could see me is July 8th, unless my symptoms get scary. I've never really had scary feelings before....I'm just wacko @:0)~ If I could just turn my brain off for a little while it would be great.

Who knows maybe they will decide it's not what I think it is....maybe I am in early menopause...I know a few women who have lost their marbles over that!

Facing the Music

Well this post was intended to be all about the craziness of trying to pack a family 4 for a small vacation. But I find myself compelled to write about something far more serious. A confession of sorts. I have committed to being open and honest in this blog, perhaps as much for myself as for others. To portray who I really am and the struggles I really deal with. Lately my struggles have been up and down and all around and are a jumbled mess of thoughts, feelings, worries, happiness, shame and insecurity. A thought has been nagging at me for a long time, months, maybe even years....a thought I never wanted to address because I suppose it felt like some kind of admission of failure or defeat. I recently posted this blog about wondering if I had ADD http://ramblingruralrecollections.blogspot.com/2008/06/shes-superfreak.html

And it wasn't until The Flying Circus Mommy over at http://hmansell.blogspot.com/ commented that she suffered similar symptoms and is bi-polar, that I had to face some facts. See I have feared for several years that I may suffer from this. People who see me on a regular basis often comment on my energy, enthusiasm, talkativeness, and creativity.(I get called 'perky' a lot! LOL) What they don't see are the impulses that I struggle with, the racing thoughts, the over stimulation, the ideas that are constantly bombarding my head and the adrenaline that just won't go away. What they also rarely see are the lows....the times I can't get out of bed and won't speak to anyone. The times when I can't even bring myself to shower and I refuse to answer the phone. I have ridden this roller coaster for so long I have become accustomed to it...until recently. I don't know if it is age, hormones or my brain just finally waving the white flag, but I am reaching the end of my rope. It is clear that I am not well. I function well, hold down several jobs and have a tremendous passion for life. But I also deal with the nagging inner voice that is telling me something isn't right inside. The energy I can't get rid of, the times I can't muster a single bit of energy...the times I have to force myself with everything I have to pretend that I am feeling normal and put on the happy face.

Depression medication has helped tremendously with the lows. But the highs, the 'manic' symptoms that I have always had have been extremely exaggerated lately. I changed medications about 6 months ago. For a while I was thrilled to be so "UP" all the time...it was great. It's a fantastic feeling to feel "Wonderful" and "Able to conquer the world", I have been able to accomplish a million things at once and find myself obsessed with devouring knowledge constantly. (I know that doesn't sound like a bad thing, but it's odd...to not be a student and be obsessed with a topic and feel compelled to need to know every single detail about it before I am satisfied and move onto another new obsession.) I am all over the map...all the time. I am coming the realization that perhaps too much of a good thing is hurting me terribly. I won't discuss all of my symptoms here out of respect for my family, but I think it's time I realized that all the relationship problems in my life cannot all be blamed on other people. I am starting to look in the rear view mirror and see that everyone I love is having a hard time keeping up.

I haven't had this discussion with my husband yet. I think it already freaks him out to have a wife with depression and anxiety issues anyway. Mental illness is not something that is openly discussed in these rural areas. It's still the dirty little secret. But my mother suffered terribly from schizoaffective disorder, and I vowed when she died I was going to break that cycle with myself and my own children. I don't want to suffer in silence for fear of embarrassing my family or myself. I am not ashamed. I understand that somethings are beyond my control.

I have huge fears about talking to my doctor about this though. I dread the medication roller coaster of trying to find the "right fit." I've been through this with a friend who suffers from bipolar disorder. She has been instrumental today in helping me come to terms with the fact that this may be a possibility for me, I am glad I found it in me to confess my fears to her. I also dread having the actual "diagnosis" that will follow me forever and be listed on my health insurance etc....but I know I am just going to have stop worrying about those things if I want to get better.

We are leaving for vacation tomorrow so a Dr. visit is going to have to wait until next week, but I am making the appointment today. Now. Before I chicken out. I think I posted this blog to force me to be accountable for my actions and to hopefully serve as a first step in getting better. Maybe I helped somebody else out there who is reading this....I know I am helping myself.

Caught in the act!

Well Mama has had about all the fussin' fighting she could take this morning with all the kids! Fights over toys, computer time, books, imaginary play scenarios etc....it seems like if they don't have something to fight about today they go looking for it!!! I had just about enough this morning and did something I have never done before.....

I strapped on my iPod, cranked it up and started cleaning house. Everytime the kids came running to me tugging away at a toy that they were fighting over, I just smiled, giving them that teenage "I can't hear you..." look as I pointed to my headphones and rocked out to the sounds of Joan Jett and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I pretty much gave instructions that Miss J had heard enough of the fussin' and if they were going to kill each other there was only one request...no blood on the carpet...they were going to have to figure out a non-messy way of slaughtering one another...yes I jest, don't get your kinckers in a wad!

Eventually they stopped coming to me, realizing that I was going to ignore them at all costs. Finally after about 5 minutes I noticed that I had not been bothered in a while. I hit the pause button to hear only quiet. I checked around and one child was on the computer, and 4 were playing house and one watching TV...just as happy as you please!!! So I turned my tunes back on and finished the dishes. I was about 2 verses into Van Halen's Hot for Teacher, and shakin' my booty all over the place when I took a pause to do a quick flamboyant spin with my air guitar when I saw them.....all of them...lined up in the kitchen, giggling as they watched me rock out at the sink.

Of course I just kept rocking the air guitar and started singing at the top of my lungs, cause I am cool like that! :^)~

My Life In Music

The house is quiet, hubby is out, the kids are asleep and I have been adding songs to my Playlist for my blog....it has put me in mellow mood, as always seems to happen when I have time to listen to meaningful music. Much like reading an emotionally powerful novel it takes my mind to a place that reflects on the past, the present, the future and all the events in my life related to or described by the lyrics and rhythms in the songs. My family is full of musicians, my father, brothers, uncles, nephews and cousins...guitar pickers, bluegrass lovers, rock and rollers and amazing songwriters are all in the mix. No family gathering ever occurs without guitars and a foot stomping celebration of our roots.

I had the urge tonight to post snippets of song lyrics that are the timeline of my life, but this blog would be 5 pages long. Then it occurred to me to just post the song titles. They are all on my playlist, anyone interested could just find the song and listen. However, this blog is really just for me. I don't expect anyone to be all that interested. I just have the need to purge this....there are no words of my own flowing from my brain tonight. No poetry. Nothing new...only things that have already been said. Only the words of these songs, stolen from others and applied to the realities of my life. Songs so significant in my life that many of them stop me in my tracks.

The first being Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd, which describes the descent of my mother's sanity and the feelings I have surrounding her loss. The song was written for Syd Barrett, the bands original singer and songwriter. His friends and bandmates watch him slip into the depths of mental illness at the beginning of their success....they have captured the feeling of loss so wonderfully. I want this song played at my funeral someday. "We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year" Those words seem to sum up my mother daughter experience. Even now that she is gone, I still feel that....year after year.

The second is For You by Stained. I hope that when I my sons are teenagers I have the sense to listen to this song and remember my own childhood. This song just embodies everything I felt as a teenager of a broken home, a victim of abuse, a lost child trying desperately to find a way out of the darkness that was my reality at the time.

The third is Not a Pretty Girl by Ani Difranco. This woman is such an amazing songwriter, every word she puts to paper touches me on some level, but this song is who I am. Once I found myself, became comfortable in my own skin, and decided to forge my own path in life, this is who I became. From the moment I first heard this song I felt like Ani had somehow reached into my soul and pulled out my inner feelings about who I am. Yes I am pretty, or pretty enough...but I don't care about being a "pretty" girl. I want to be the girl you remember because she said or wrote something that affected you in some way...not because she is attractive.

My feelings on politics, government and human rights? Blowing in the Wind by Bob Dylan. 40 years later this song still holds a powerful message that I wish every human on Earth could take to heart.

My family, my roots, my heritage - Leave This Long Haired Country Boy Alone by Charlie Daniels. These are my father's people. Hillbillies. Country Trash. River Rats. Guitar Pickers and Whiskey Drinkers. I love them fiercely.

The soundtrack of those family gatherings often included songs like The Ballad of Curtis Lowe by Lynyrd Skynyrd, Copperhead Road by Steve Earl and dozens of Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Merle Haggard, George Jones and Willie Nelson songs.

My experience with aging - Outlaw Women by Hank Jr. These are my girls. One of a kind. Loud, rowdy, strong, independent and opinionated. Take it or leave it. We have gone from being girls to women, girlfriends to wives, and kids to mothers. There are a handful of us who are still a tight knit group and Hank says it all about who we are.

The memories of being young and free as a teenager...ok don't laugh....Good Ole Boys by Waylon Jennings. Yes it is the theme song to the Dukes of Hazard, but more than that to me, it describes life for the youth of my generation growing up in rural small town America. We got our kicks taking risks and evading the law. We never meant any harm, never created any violence or vandalism, we were just kids with nothing better to do but drink beer, race cars, get crazy and be young. Another song that is an accurate description for my generation of country boys and girls is Fortunate Son by CCR, once again a song that was written for our parents generation seems to hold true, even for my own children.

My life today Small Town by John Mellencamp. He says it all.....

All of these songs....feelings captured in the words written by phenomenal artists. Writers I could only dream of being comparable to. They speak to me in ways that Wordsworth and Lord Byron will never be able to do.