Truth is, I have been writing. I haven’t been writing anything substantial however. I have mostly been writing to keep a daily log so that my psychologist (Yes, I am seeing a psychologist!) and I could find patterns to my periods of craziness. Rest assured, all we have come up with is that I get a little wacked out around menstruation time. Not that alarming, actually seems to be pretty normal.

“A psychologist?” You ask. Yes, I am seeing a psychologist. Free of charge, in fact. I thought it would be a good time to utilize some of the free things that are offered on campus that I technically pay for through tuition and student health fees. However, seeing my psychologist was the best decision I have ever made. After my friend, Mindy, died, I noticed (weird, I noticed it more than anyone) that my life was becoming very bleak… mundane, possibly, but bleak. I was in a depression, a deep funk that I couldn’t pull myself out of no matter how much I looked around me and saw things that I should be proud of: my daughter being the awesome little 6 year old she is, a HEALTHY-ish brand new relationship with the greatest man I’ve ever been with, my undergraduate courses coming to an end… I should have been feeling like I was standing on a mountain yelling at everyone below me to do something with their life. Yet, I wasn’t proud of myself. I was angry with myself because I am 26 and have a 6 year old with no career, no job even. I was angry because no matter how good my boyfriend is to me, I still felt like I wasn’t good enough for him. Yes, my undergraduate course requirements are becoming smaller and smaller and I am damn proud of that achievement, but I find myself staring down the barrel of a metaphorical shotgun with the person holding the trigger screaming at me, “It’s do or die, which path are you going to choose?” All of these things were very, very discouraging for me and my self-esteem. I gained weight so I was angry at myself for that, and becoming angry at Daniel for feeding me so well. All of these things were causing me to spin out of control into downward spiral and I was not seeing a light at the end of the tunnel… until I started seeing my psychologist.

Now I am proud to report that most days I am depression free. I do not fear what is after college. In fact, I’m excited that pretty soon I’ll be a college graduate! I adore the fact that I am 26 with a 6 year old. When I’m 40, she’ll be 20! That means when she starts having kids, I’ll still be the cool grandma that can get down on the floor and play with them. I’m glad I had her so young in life, yes it’s been a struggle and no it has not been easy, but I’m ecstatic that the possibility of my education rubbing off on her is exponentially greater because she got to experience college life with me. I feel better now that I’m learning the coping tools and methods to get me on the straight and narrow, so I can be that better mom, daughter, sister, girlfriend and teacher. I’m excited for what is to become of me.

Also, one thing we’re (my psychologist and I) working on is my “need” to control everything. Life has no guarantees. I
can’t plan everything and that is one thing that I need to learn. I can’t control everything and this has been the hardest lesson to learn. It’s a work in progress.

So that’s it. That is why I have been absent. I’ve been working on me, the real me. I’ve been trying to find myself again in this crazy, chaotic world.

It’s not just a friend’s death that has been catapulting me into the deep abyss of nothingness and emptiness (although it does hurt)… it’s everything.

The world is filled with so much hate and anger, poverty and struggles, and greed. A friend of mine once told me a few years ago that he didn’t want to become a parent because he didn’t feel that raising a child in this world would be a good thing. Every day on the news, its death, burglaries, evil… Granted there are those good things in life, like those willing to help their neighbors in times of need, the rich feeding the poor (a rare occurrence so it seems), and general goodwill throughout the world.

I’m fearful of what can happen. I know that I can sleep at night knowing that I’m raising my daughter the best I can, but I am terrified to death that she may make the wrong decisions in life. I don’t want her to end up on the wrong path that leads to drugs and destruction. She’s a very bright girl and has a very bright future; that is, if she doesn’t stray from the path I am feverishly trying so hard to put her on.

I’m depressed because it seems like life always goes smoothly for a month, maybe two, and then something catastrophic happens: a car breaks down that I can’t afford to fix, a pet needs surgery because she swallowed a fake plastic flower that got stuck in her intestines, my daughter needs to see a doctor without insurance, etc. It’s a struggle every day, and although I don’t mind the struggles, I wish for once I wouldn’t have to worry about that stuff. I don’t want to have to worry about the mundane day to day things. I want to be happy and stay that way.

I don’t want to be fat anymore. I wish there was some miracle drug that didn’t harm the body that made you a healthy weight instantly. It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just that I’m impatient. I look at myself in the mirror and hate what I’ve become, and I hate that I know that I am the only one that can do something about it. My boyfriend is really good at encouraging, but he’s really bad at leading by example. There’s always dessert, there’s always junk food. One day, I’m tempted to just go through the cupboards and empty it all out and tell him and the kids that they can starve if they don’t want to eat healthy. I’m tired of having to buy separate things because one kid or one adult doesn’t like this particular item.

So now that I’ve identified the triggers, next step is doing something about them.

*sigh* I’ll just start tomorrow.

A friend of mine recently passed. There are questions surrounding her passing, like what caused the infection, etc. It was her time, but the world lost an amazing person. Mindy (Luzviminda) Nemenzo will truly be missed. I haven’t seen her since high school and I hate that. We were planning a trip up Rubidoux, a nice relaxing hike together. A few weeks ago, I remember one of her facebook posts. She was angry because she got a parking ticket during one of her trips up there. She was so funny. Her 7am posts about how she couldn’t wait for lunch would always make me hungry.

Her son, Angelo, is in first grade, just like my daughter. Their birthdays are a month apart so we would swap stories about our kids and their educational adventures, encourage each other to be strong on the first day of school, laugh at each others silly photos. Angelo will be stronger because of her. He will never forget the amazing person she was because she touched so many of us in so many different ways.

A good person was taken way too soon. Her laughter, her humor, everything about her will be missed. She left a huge impact on so many lives, but now we have to say goodbye. She isn’t the first person I’ve known since 7th grade to pass so suddenly and soon, but she is one of the hardest people to let go of. I’m going to miss her spanking my booty in friendly games of “Words with Friends,” it’s because of her I learned how to score big. I’m sorry I cheated on one of our games and consulted a dictionary, but the score of 430 to 89 was way too pathetic.

Mindy, wherever you are, we miss you. I wrote this for you:

For my friend, Mindy

It’s the little things in life we take for granted
The hunger for a burger in the early hours of the morning
Or the smile you bring to our faces
With your witty humor and anger at the little things

It’s not so much that your gone that hurts us the most
It’s the fact that we won’t get to be around you anymore
We won’t get to have you in our lives
To brighten our day with a fresh cup of Starbucks

We’ve enjoyed you
We’ve been with you through the good times and bad
Through the games, the fun and the memories
Now, you’ll always be in our hearts

Mindy Nemenzo – April 19, 1985 – September 8, 2011

1. My boyfriend wants me to have bigger boobs. Now normally, I wouldn’t even consider this as a reasonable argument for; however I agree, they do need to be bigger. I have a large frame and small breasts in proportion with my frame.
2. I want bigger boobs.
3. I have done the research and know the type and size I want. I am going to be a D, I am going under the muscle for 2 reasons: I do intend on exercising more, even once I hit my goal to even go in for the consultations anyway; if I do ever have another child, I would like to be able to breast feed.
4. I want to feel better about myself. I have low self-esteem and a lot of it stems from my breast size. When I wear my bra that makes my boobs look two sizes bigger than they are, I feel good about myself, I feel confident. I want to have that ALL the time.

The only reason I can think of regarding why I shouldn’t do it (besides price of course) is: do I really want to alter my self. I know plastic surgery is taboo and that the debate against it concerns the alteration of what you were born with and that you should love yourself for who you are and what you look like, yada yada yada . . . I’m reminded of an old TLC song: 

I take that back, I do have opinions, mainly negative opinions, but I’m in a happy place right now and really don’t want to complain. However, I feel the urge to write, so here it goes.. A Top 10 List!

10 things that Sheri has negative opinions about but doesn’t want to go into a full-fledge rant about.

10. The Economy– I thought it was supposed to be getting better? Instead, funding is cut to education from not only the state of California, but also the federal government in reducing funding for grad students.

9. Child Molesters/Rapists– Why are these people allowed to keep their nut-sacks? CUT THEM OFF!

8. Time– Time is pissing me off because I just want to go back to school already. Granted, I still need to read 4 Harry Potter books before the end of September… point is, time is going by too slowly.

7. Mad Moms in Mini-vans– QUIT BEING YOU! No offense, but stay-at-home moms at Skye’s school make me incredibly jealous because: a) they stay at home and still can afford to live in the neighborhood I can only dream about, b) they’re all plastic surgeried-up (boobs, smile, even fake tans), and c) because every vehicle in the parking lot is a damn van.

6. the 91 freeway– Piss off.

5. CARS– why the hell do you have to break down all the damn time or need replacement parts that cost money?!

4. Netflix– I’m still angry you raised prices. You offer less for more $$. Dumbasses.

3. The tooth fairy– QUIT MAKING VISITS TO  MY HOUSE! You’re making me look bad because you give my daughter more money than I do!

2. Fast food restaurants– Please stop being so irresistibly delicious while I’m trying to eat healthier.

1. DELL Laptops!– this is my second laptop. Now, not only does this one have a special spot that it will only charge with, the screen is messing up and the CD/DVD drive is falling apart. QUIT BEING CHEAP or I will be forced to buy an expensive apple product.

*sigh* Wow, what a lot of negativity. I feel better. Thanks.

While visiting the Getty Center in Los Angeles today, I realized one thing: I need to acquire more art in my house

. I need to be surrounded by it. The Van Gogh painting Irises is on display there. It is absolutely breathtaking. I need color in my life. I’m so bored of the mundane black and white world I live in. Family photos, while beautiful and awesome, just do not provide me with enough color. My love for art was renewed with the displays at the Getty Center.

I’m now on a mission to buy more art. If you know of places that are cheap for prints of Van Gogh, Monet and other colorful artists you can think of, please comment. I need help with this!

Another thing I’ve realized during this period of crazyness is my love for my family. I was dreading my family reunion on Saturday because I was afraid I would be moping around because my firefighter is stuck on a fire until Bob knows when. However, once I got there and started spending time with my family I realized that they could pick me up. The party lifted my spirits and although he was on my mind the entire time, it wasn’t so bad there without him. It would have been awesome if he could have made it, but his obligations lie with work. He has his priorities straight: work, kids and me last; where  I belong (he has said I’m not too far behind work on the list of priorities). I love my family. Their ability to lift spirits is utterly amazing.

All in all, although the week isn’t done and although my handsome hunk isn’t home for the second week, it’s been pretty amazing.

This week ABC news reported that nearly half of all three- to six-year-old girls worry about being fat. In my book, Think: Straight Talk for Women to Stay Smart in a Dumbed-Down World, I reveal that fifteen to eighteen percent of girls under twelve now wear mascara, eyeliner and lipstick regularly; eating disorders are up and self-esteem is down; and twenty-five percent of young American women would rather win America’s Next Top Model than the Nobel Peace Prize. Even bright, successful college women say they’d rather be hot than smart. A Miami mom just died from cosmetic surgery, leaving behind two teenagers. This keeps happening, and it breaks my heart.

I will admit that I have always been “aware” of my body image. As the younger, fatter, not as attractive sister, I’ve had to deal with this scenario my entire life. Instead of being down and hating my sister that was blessed with the “skinny genes” I’ve embraced it. It did not damage my relationship with my sister in any way; in fact, it probably made us closer. My dad made fun of me as a kid; being the heavy set little rugrat with out-of-control, curly hair sort of sets you up for ridicule. I remember specifically one time in which a friend of mine told me, “Damn your sister is hot! It’s a shame you aren’t so lucky.” I punched him in the stomach and walked away.

My daughter is five years old. I know she is aware of body image and stuff, but I refuse to let her watch shows such as America’s Next Top Model or Toddlers and Tiaras. It’s not good for her nor her self esteem. Granted, I have had to stop myself from making the same rude and detrimental comments my father told me growing up about her weight. Instead, I offer her alternatives to unhealthy eating. Yes, I do let her eat her Happy Meals with fries. Yes, I do let her eat chips and stuff like that because she IS a kid. However, I limit her food intake. I offer her carrots and celery instead of chips, and most of the time she agrees to it with low-fat ranch dressing. I don’t talk to her about her weight and I make sure to correct her when she makes fun of other people, whether its because they are old, fat, skinny, tall, short, purple, green, black, white, Mexican, talk with an accent, etc.

Body image is a scary silent killer. It is sad that our children are younger and younger and deal with these issues. It’s not fair to them. What is this world coming to? Through my experiences growing up, I learned to admire my brain. My grades in high school were less than stellar, but I had no self respect. Once I learned to love myself, I learned to LOVE my brain and cherish my education. As a 25 year old, I would much rather be smart than be beautiful… hopefully it is my brain that makes me beautiful

No, we haven’t split up…yes we’re going to try to work this out. He needs more time and “space” while I just need to stop being me.

I wrote this anyway:

Slowing things down

It is one of those pains

The ones that can’t seem to let you stop crying

The one that hurts in your chest

And makes your throat feel like its closing

With every swallow

It gives you that inability to breathe

The pain is too much to bear

It rips and tears at the lining of your stomach

Making it uncomfortable for you in any position

You can’t sit still

All you can hear is a crack forming

In the earth, ready to swallow you whole

The world starts spinning

Nothing can be seen clearly

Is it ever going to stop?

The words you’ve dreaded hearing

I need more time

It’s the it’s not you it’s me speech

I wasn’t ready for this

It is one of those pains.

Why Do I Love Him?

What is it about him that makes me fall?

Is it his eyes, his smile, his kiss?

Is it the way I feel warmth again,

When he’s sleeping by my side?

Or is it the way his arms feel

When they’re wrapped around my waist?

What is it about him that makes me laugh?

Is it the way he’s goofy,

Without any qualms or inhibitions?

Is it because I know he’s comfortable

With me and my life?

Or is it because he is that cute?

What is it about him that makes me hurt?

Is it the way he never seems to be there

When I need him the most?

Is it because I know there are others that come before me

Like his kids, his job, his life?

Or is it because he’s holding onto her?