Back to Life and Writing

I don't know what brought my urge to write again, maybe it's the fact that I feel a change in my life. Maybe it's because today, someone who has been reading my blogs for a long time wrote me.  Maybe it's because I need the creativity flow back in my body.  But tonight, I'm going to talk about something that's been apart of my life for a long time. 

I thought about it when I was younger. I was about twelve or thirteen years old when it first became more than a thought. I remember sitting in my green circle chair in my sponge bob decorated room. I'm not sure if it was because my dad left or if it was because I felt like nobody connected with me as a person. I was young, but all a child wants is to have a great relationship with their parents... And when my best friend and role model left, so did my urge to exist. 

Here in the past three years, it's been more of a thought. It's like a darkness that has crept into my bloodstream. Once the thought becomes an overwhelming desire, there's not much else you can think about. It's a sickness as most people say. But I'm not sick. I wasn't ever sick. The day I made that decision, maybe I was sick. But never did I consider myself to have some sort of sickness. 

People undermine it you know. People think it's all fun and games or someone is just out seeking for attention. Maybe some.  But I never wanted anyone to know. Because if they knew, they would try to stop me.  As I see it, if you really have that "sickness", the last thing you want is someone to know.  Those times that the thoughts and urges come across you when you're laying down for rest, or when you're driving down the road and watch the gravel on the highway pass you by, or the times you go out in public and watch people live their lives wondering if they ever feel that darkness within their bones..those are the times I never wanted anyone to know.  No matter if I wanted to reach out, those who have felt those urges tend to think they have all the answers for a battle you feel like you can't fight. And those who haven't, end up judging or down playing your inner battles. 

So if I never wanted anyone to know, why do I now? Well, I don't think about it everyday.  The past year of my life it crept up the worst it ever has. The thoughts went to preparation. The thoughts went to plans and backup plans on how I could go about it.  I never wanted someone to come across my dead body lying in a bloody pool on the floor. I never wanted a loved one to walk in and see me hanging lifeless from the ceiling of a place I called home.  I always saw myself walking out into the woods of a random town and using a 357 magnum to the head.  That's what the darkness kept showing me.  Then the gun was taken away from the house, as my darkness started to creep out into the light.  I then was going to get a ladder, rope, and go out into the woods with obvious intentions of hanging myself. I wanted to go missing.  That was the plan.  Then for some reason, the darkness didn't want to disappear. It wanted to make me suffer. Not cut the cord to the pain, just amplify the dosage. 

That's when I became what you stereotypical  folks like to call Emo. When the urge came to see my own blood and feel some dreadful pain, I had nothing to use. So I took apart a razor blade and started dragging it across my upper arm. Never did I want to die. Never did I want anyone to find out.  This is why I never cut my wrists. This is why it was in an easily hidden spot.  When I felt the relief... Which wasn't necessarily a relief in good feeling, but a relief that I finally was getting what I deserved... I couldn't stop. Every day I had to do it, or the next day it was worse. Eventually, I talked to someone. It took that. Someone found out and helped me. 

Have I stopped forever? Is the darkness gone? Am I no longer sick? No.  So what is the point of this post? 

Well, in the past five months, what used to happen every day, has happened only twice. My thoughts have not gone away, but I fight it. I fight it because no matter what I've done, I can make up for it in other ways than what I was.  My point is, in all my time of not wanting someone to know, I'm glad that they found out. Who knows where I'd be. How much worse it could have gotten. From the person who got rid of the gun, or the person who talked to me about becoming a better person and making a future that's about making up for the past.. They stopped something that could have been a lot worse. 

The suicide jokes, the name calling of self harmers, the under estimating how "sick" someone really is... Reach out. Whether you care about this person personally, someone does, and it's not a joke, it's not a game, and whatever we as a human race and society can do to prevent someone taking their life, we should. We should extend our arms for and with what's in our reach. Because if that gun was never taken away or that talk was never had with me... I truthfully don't know if I would have ever seen the light again. 

Yours truly, 

Amanda Rae

A day that I can't take back...

          I've come to a point of emptiness.  This will be my first blog I write that I won't overlook my words. I won't backspace any emotions I express uncontrollably.  This is going to be the blog that will cause the biggest self challenge to get through writing.  I've started to notice a change in who I am.  Some of you that talk to me on a daily basis may not have experienced or even noticed this change, but I see it in the way I think, the way I talk, and the way I've been second guessing everything in life.

          I'm not exactly sure why I've decided to write about this and share it for all the one's whom are choosing to read this.  I am fully aware that I'm going to be judged.  Whether it be out loud and blunt or judged silently. In a month from now, September 25th, I should be celebrating my child's first birthday.  I should be frantically rushing into decisions on how to decorate the cake, what outfit he or she should wear, or what the theme for my baby's first birthday will be.  Instead, I sit here with no child.  I sit here with a empty feeling full of regret and hatred for myself.  If anyone decides on viewing me with disgust from this point forward... just let it be known, I look in the mirror some days and damn near want to cover it with a black sheet so I don't even have to face myself.  I had an abortion.

         A year and a half ago, I was a sixteen year old girl with a twenty one year old boyfriend.  Or so I thought.  He was my first boyfriend and yet, he was the furthest thing from who I thought he was.  One drunken night was all it took.  I was pregnant.  I'll never forget the day I took the tests.  My mother wasn't home at the time and my boyfriend brought over two pregnancy tests.  I took the first one and we watched that test like hawks as the second line slowly became visible.  Not knowing if a faint second line clarified as being pregnant, I took the second. Yeah, I was definitely pregnant.  Before in talking about me being pregnant, my boyfriend had told me that if I was, I should get an abortion.  I agreed until that very moment the scare became a reality.  To make matters even more confusing, my boyfriend smiled with joy as I dropped to the floor with my head tucked between my knees. His words..."Baby, we're pregnant."  Not "you're" pregnant, "WE'RE" pregnant. In that moment, with the tears running down my face, I knew that in nine months I would be having a child.

          I was pregnant for two and a half months, or as the doctor told me...10 weeks. In that time, I figured out what the child's name was going to be whether it be a boy or a girl.  Boy: Jet Ryan  Girl: Kalen Rae  Now: "My blue eyed angel".  To save everyone from a long story in explaining myself, my boyfriend clearly lost himself.  The man I knew to be protective and the most endearing person, quickly became the most cynical and vindictive man.  Lies and secrets were quickly arising in our relationship and I sure as hell didn't know how to deal with them.  He said things to me that I had never heard from someone that actually was trying to hurt my feelings.  I grew up with parents that spent most of their time fighting.  I grew up without a father for many years of my life and as I know I would have given my child everything in my will power, there was never a chance in this world I could live with giving my child the life I had.

          February 26th 2010, I went through went through with the abortion.  Today the man that was supposed to be the father of my child is far from a part of my life.  You see, we tried multiple times after to be the couple we invisioned.  Three months ago he finally admitted to lying about basically everything he has told me in life.  For a long time he tried to cover his tracks and was very good at manipulating me.  I know now that if I would have gone through with my pregnancy, my innocent child would have been born with one of the worst men to become a father.  At the same time, I can't sit here and give excuses for why I went through with my abortion, but I can give you my reasons for why it seemed like the smartest decision after weeks of thinking.

          Today is a new day.  If I could be the person I am today and go back with the ability to have my child, I wouldn't waste a second going back.  Today I would be a good mother.  Today I would choose to live with nothing else in this world except for that child.  I can't take back what I have already done.  I'm one who doesn't ever want to regret a moment in life, for my past decisions have made me the strong, good-hearted person I am today.  Yet, I do regret having my abortion.  Whether you knew my story and know it was a smart decision or whether you don't know me and already choose to look down on me... know this, I've never felt so much hatred for myself and for what I've done.  For the first time I can admit that I am weak.  I'm not okay and I'm not sure if there will ever come a time that this will ever be okay with me.  I have hit a point in life to where I'm not exactly sure where I go emotionally from here.  Much is changing around me but I still pause to sit here and close my eyes to see a beautiful child running and playing.  I have feelings of guilt, regret, pain, disgust, hatred, sadness, and anger all for one person...myself.

          For those of you who chose to have sex and not take precautions... don't think you are invincible for one second.  I never thought at sixteen I'd be pregnant.  The relationship that seemed picture perfect crashed and burned once reality caught up with us.  Every story is different.  Every life has a different outcome.  If I could just give anyone that reads this one word of advice to carry on, it would be... think about your actions.  Every action can be held accountable for in one way or another.  Don't let that one moment of pleasure lead to a life full of sorrow.  Don't be me.  Please, just don't be me. 

                    Yours truly,
                   Amanda Rae

To be a Dad, to be a Father

         People are too consumed with things in life that can but shouldn't be measured.  Life isn't about measurements or something one has over another person.  Every sunrise can't be seen, every snow fall can't be caught, not everyone falls in love, and not everyone dies happy.  You know, I've never thought I'd feel so secure about being so alone.  Society clearly has made it a mandatory action to get married and have babies.  Thing is, some people in this world weren't made for that.

        Sometimes a child is brought into this world with only half of what it truly needs. One parent always seems to be missing.  I've always had a mother in my life... a woman who stayed by my side through everything I did. A woman who loved me with an unmeasurable amount of love.  A woman that could easily surpass all other mothers in my eyes. Although my mother was clearly an amazing part of my life...I missed having a dad in a lot of my growing up stages.  I was born with a dad who then turned into father. If you come from a broken home, you more than understand the difference between the two.

        To be a father is to have a child.  To be a dad, is to be the strong, loving person for a child to always depend on.  Dads are supposed to be that tough figure that pisses you off but does it because he never wants to see his child get hurt.  Coming from a broken home, you tend to get used to people coming and going in your life.  Yet, you seem to never get used to not having a dad.  I was born with a dad that did nothing but care for his girls.  We were the only things that mattered to him... my sister and I that is.  Once we grew older and developed a mind of our own, his attachment to us seemed to drift...drift far far away!  My father became a very mean person, for the alcohol took control of the man we all knew he could be. 

       As of Christmas 2010, my father became a dad again after missing him for years. Still... It's not exactly what I always expected having a dad at the age of eighteen would be like.  When I think of a dad who has a young adult as a daughter, I think of a very protective figure.  A man that wouldn't let any boy near his child without the typical grilling. A man that always gets real defensive when his daughter talks about the older guys she hangs out with. My dad?  His words exactly after introducing him to a guy..."wrap it up."  Not exactly what I wanted my dad to say.  I want my dad to basically scare a guy so bad that he wouldn't think twice about harming me... but at the same time, how can my dad of all people try a preach to a choir about all the things he has never been. 

       I believe some people weren't made to have children.  Some men aren't capable of caring for a child's needs.  Some women don't know how to love a child as it needs to be loved.  Face it, some people were just made shitty.  So for all the criticism about how we were all made to find our "one" person, fall in love, and make babies... please knock it off.  This is a different time in age, meaning we have all figured out more about the human race.  Differences lie within each one of us, whether they are for the worse or for the better.  Life is what you make of it.  If you decide to make babies out of it... make sure you're the right type of parent before you ruin your child's vision of life.
        
                           Yours truly,
                         Amanda Rae

    

What if?

      

          "What If?" is a major question that is thrown around time to time.  We often wonder what could be different about our situations in life...not as if many people take the effort to make a change, they still ponder the thought.  Some situations are just simply impossible to change, so wondering "what if" seems to become quite over powering.




         I've been reading some other blogs and basically, I got more of a back bone than I thought I had before.  I read some intriguing stories and questioned myself, "Why do you constantly hide things?"  This blog is about who I am and what I view.  This entire time I thought it wasn't "right" to talk about things in my life, due to hurting or shocking a reader.  I'm not the secretive type, I just choose to not talk about certain things.  The fear of being judged has never concerned me either... I guess I'm just the "closed" type or I was too worried about letting someone close know how I felt about them.  Well that whole "What if?" question popped into my head.

Think about this one...
         What if I just don't care how I affect you, the reader, anymore.  You're choosing to read this blog, right?  No, I'm not going to come out and tell you all that I'm some massive murder or that I kill bunnies as a side job.  Those are obviously false accusations.  I'm going to put myself in some "What if" situations and basically elaborate how different my life
could have been.  (Don't mistake this! I love who I am more than you possibly have loved anything in your life.)  This is simply a blog to get the mind working and to discuss the make-up of who I am.

1. What if I had a functional family?


         This was the first question that popped into my mind.  Maybe this is due to the fact I'm recently having family problems, who knows? Point is I've never had that; white picket fence, two loving parents, dog in the front yard, welcoming home.  Then again, nobody truly does anymore. I have divorced parents and I'm living in my grandparents trailer in South Carolina because... well we are poor. I had a father who neglected me for the most important years of my life.  I have a mother who was more of a best friend than a mom, which wasn't always a good thing. My entire family's kryptonite is alcohol. I have a family member that nearly died from the refusal to put the bottle down and a grandfather who drinks coffee with his beer in the mornings (That's just gross!).

         Well if I had a functional family... I would either be the most obedient teenager or a sketchy kid who broke the rules.  Knowing my personality, I probably would have rebelled and became worse than I turned out. My parents probably would have no idea that I was crushing a xanex into a blunt in my room or popping bottles of Tequila at the party down the street.  See growing up, my mother was aware of everything I did. She knew about the alcohol, the weed, and the drug addiction.  Instead of trying to force me to stop, she allowed it. She must have known the kind of kid I was because I ended up quitting after a tragic experience and haven't touched a drug in nine months.  Parents who judge other parents for allowing certain things to happen behind closed doors, keep your judgments to your damn self! If she would have told me to stop, I'd still be hiding bars in my purse or smoking a cigarette in the school bathroom at lunch time.


2. What if I had my child?


         If you didn't know it yet, you know it now... I am supposed to a mother.  If it was a boy, his named would have been Jet Ryan Lamot. If it was a girl, her named would have been Kalen Marie Lamot.  I got pregnant at the age of sixteen with a boy who I thought was everything I needed in life.  Some good things come out of bad situations. The child unfortunately is not here today, but I also am no longer with the man who lied about his entire life.  But what if?  What if I had my baby on September 25th as planned?  



         Well for one, I'd love that child more than anything and most likely be stuck with a man who didn't care who he hurt in attempts to be dominant.  The distant family, who is bound to read this, probably would have shit their pants and called me a horrible child.  Well I had sex, got pregnant, and would have supported that child no matter what got in my way.  If that makes me a whore, failure, or whatever else you've got in mind... so be it!  For those who frown upon being a teenage mother, my child left this world February 26th 2010.  If you just smiled inside for the sakes of my future, I hope you fall off a cliff.


3. What if I believed in love? 


         A little insight for you readers, I didn't choose to believe or not believe in the things I do.  I don't think one can just force a thought into the mind and completely believe it.  I don't just refuse to be in love, I can't get my mind to accept it.  But, If I did...what would be different?  Would I "fall in love" with some boy?
         Maybe some of the previous boys I blew off would have stuck around. I would have been in more than three relationships and wouldn't enjoy being single in all aspects of life. I most likely would end up as just another heart broken girl on her desperate attempt to find her Mr. Right.  Thankfully this is just "What if" because the sound of that sends an impulse of nausea to my stomach.


         Wondering what could have happened or if that should have happened is basically a test for the pride within yourself.  No matter what question is brought upon you, you should always embrace the person you are.  "What if" questions just make me realize why I admire my family, who I've become, and every flaw I've got.

                                    Yours truly,
                                   Amanda Rae

Crash!

          You wake up.  It's nine thirty but you were supposed to get up at seven. Your alarm clock is blinking because the power went out in the middle of the night.  You still have to get dressed, grab something to eat, and rush to work.  You keep trying to call your boss to tell them you are on the way, but you keep losing signal.  So as you are driving in a hurry down the road, everybody on the road seems to be driving under the speed limit, traffic is horrible, and you still can't get any service.  The world seems to be shitting on you basically.  Well that intense, horrible morning will get better!  You may get fired, lose a raise... the possibilities are endless... BUT life always gets better. In order for life to have a better outcome, you must make that outcome happen.  You can not sit back and let life fix itself, you have to take action.

          Readers, I'm going to let you in on some information in my life... I'm only seventeen but just as most people these days, I've had my tussles with many tragedies. I honestly have never had a good role model. Every thing in life I learned, I had to learn through an experience.  Whether it be drugs, sex, or violence. But throughout being a lousy child, I grew up and became a wonderful person.  Life is all about taking a horrible thing and making a better outcome.  You can never "give up" on the effort for a better life... because you can always, ALWAYS, achieve the greater. 

          I refuse to identify people, but I have a close person in my life who is drinking their life away. This person is the one who inspired me to continue my life with art and never give up on my talent.  I've tried numerous efforts to keep this person away from the drinking and keep to the things in life that make one happy.  Well every effort has failed and this person refuses to think of anyone except for themselves... So I informed this alcoholic that I will not watch them drink their life away and stepped away from this issue...no longer giving any effort to influence them to quit .  Am I wrong? Maybe.  But alcoholics know nothing other than the mood enhancer they drink out of a can or bottle every day.  The family, the friends, the pure amazement of having a life seems to vanish right before them, without even noticing.  A drunk drinks that reality away and never has to live with the pain like the sober ones around them.  My advice to you, don't drink to the point to where you become addicted.  An alcoholic is a failure, no matter what view point you are looking at it from.  They can achieve the sober life, with a tremendous effort... but it can be done.  

          Readers, simply think about life.  Life is so precious... whether you are living for yourself or living for a beautiful family.  The thought of taking each breath, walking with one foot in front of the other, being able to touch and feel, everything in life is amazing... don't ever take it for granted or do anything in life to fade that precious experience we are given.

                                        Just some insight from yours truly,

                                                     Amanda Rae