Every 40 Seconds, Someone Asks Why

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. This is a very personal subject for me and one that I don't take lightly. If you'd like to ready my story, click here.

We should be trying to prevent suicide every day, but today is the day to bring to light what a huge problem it is. We should all be looking for signs and responding to them. I, personally, saw the signs of depressions, but didn't reach out. I let my friend go. Don't let yourself be one of those people who regrets what they could have done, but didn't. Don't be like me.

If you find yourself wondering why you're here and whether or not you are worthy...you are. You are worthy. Your life is worth something and if you're still on this planet, your story isn't over. It may hurt now, but now is not forever, beloveds. Ending your life only ends the opportunity of things ever getting better. And they will get better. They will.

Now is not forever.

Don't be afraid to reach out. You are someone and somebody loves you. Reach out for the support you need; you may be surprised by the response.

If all else fails, call 1-800-SUICIDE. Please.

I Hope The Angels Know What They Have

My dad came over on Friday to fix something for me and decided to bring a bunch of my stuff with him. (You see, I had to suddenly move to get out of a potentially very dangerous situation, so I only took the essentials at first, and have been slowly accumulating the rest of my things since then.) One of the things he brought were the business signs my friend left behind after his suicide. (You can read that emotional post here, in case you missed it.) They're now sitting in my bedroom and I'm happy to have them home. :) Yesterday, as I sat on the edge of the bed, getting ready to get up, I just looked at them and let the memories wash over me. I remembered finding the design (we used the same design for his business cards) and spending HOURS trying to get it to look right on his cards. I remembered him sitting next to me at the computer and typing in the info he wanted on them. I remembered all the shit my ex gave him for putting "God Bless America" on them. Lol anyways. I wanted to hug the signs and feel close to him again, just for a minute.

I logged into facebook this morning, since I read it like normal people read their morning paper, and this song was in my newsfeed. Not only is her voice beautiful, but the lyrics touched me. Is it a coincidence that these things come together at the same time? The signs, this song? I don't think so. :)

Here are the lyrics:

VERSE 1:
What does it look like in heaven?
Is it peaceful and free like they say?
Does the sun shine bright forever?
Have your fears and your pain gone away?

PRE HOOK:
Cause here on earth it feels like everything good is missing since you left.
Here on earth, everything is different, there is an emptiness.

HOOK:
I hope you're dancing in the sky,
I hope you're singing with the angels choir,
I hope the angels know what they have.
I bet it's nice up in heaven since you arrived.

VERSE 2:
Tell me, what do you do up in heaven?
Are your days filled with love and light?
Is there music? Is there art and invention?
Tell me are you happy and more alive?

PRE HOOK:
Cause here on earth it feels like everything good is missing since you left
Here on earth, everything is different, there is an emptiness.

HOOK:
I hope you're dancing in the sky,
I hope you're singing with the angels choir,
I hope the angels know what they have.
I bet it's nice up in heaven since you arrived.

Is That A Swear Word??

All right...why is the word "vagina" so taboo still?? I mean, we're not in the 1800's, people. As a society, we have evolved. We can openly discuss things like homosexuality, racism, domestic violence, birth control, sexually transmitted diseases and even things such as ::gasp:: pregnancy!! Women are not only allowed to learn about their bodies, they're actually encouraged to do so. So why is it that when someone utters that one word, people go all nunnery and hide their faces?

I recently started watching Boardwalk Empire. If you're not aware of the basics of the show, it's based on the early 1920's era, so it puts the economy and social system of how things were less than a hundred years ago right up into your face. Women were meant to be seen and not heard; they were to be ignorant, stay at home moms with no education and no real idea of what was going on in the very world they lived in. (Well, the show is actually around when all of that began to turn around, with women being given the right to vote and whatnot, so don't crucify me if you watch the show.) They were impregnated and given absolutely no education as to what was going on in their own bodies. I was going to say that it was on a need-to-know basis, but it wasn't even that. They weren't even being told what foods or activities to stay away from, so preventable scenarios that caused miscarriages made the fetal/infant death rate ridiculously high.

With that being said, you know this isn't 1920, right? My computer, as I look at right at this moment, says it's July 22nd, 2013. You read that right. 2013. Aren't all of the things I just mentioned moot factors in our current culture? Is it not common practice for women to become educated, fruitful, contributing members of society? In this age of technology, even tv commercials are chock full of information that wasn't allowed to be discussed previously; I'd go so far as to say that sexually transmitted diseases tops that list. There are million dollar campaigns dedicated to eradicating AIDS. Places like Planned Parenthood even have their own tv slots. Yet, anatomical words are shunned. Not only are they shunned, it seems they're expected to only be spoken in hushed whispers, like they're some disgusting disease.

I have news for you. It's not a disgusting disease. It's a word. An anatomically correct word, I might add.

Now, I understand that some will make the argument that it's a word that's attached to a woman's private area. I'm aware of that. It's an area that shouldn't be shared with the world. But just because it's an area that needs and deserves discretion, as far exposure goes, doesn't mean that it's a word that can't be talked about. Do you even know what goes on down there?? THAT'S WHERE BABIES COME FROM. ::gasp:: Omg what?? I thought babies were carried in the belly and then just magically appeared before you, like some sort of rabbit-in-the-hat trick! Even Jesus came from a vagina. We're getting down to the nitty gritty here, folks, and that's what it all boils down to. These are the facts of life. So why can't we discuss them?

My whole point is that the reaction to just the mere mention of the word "vagina" is antiquated. I think it's high time that we stopped being afraid of the word and started accepting it. Think of it as a relative you're not that close to; it's always been there, it's always gonna be there, so you might as well accept it's existence and embrace it. You don't have to embrace it like I have and use the word in every day life, but for crying out loud, catch up with the world we live in and stop being afraid of it. For the love of vaginas.

In recent news, a royal baby has been born. Out of a vagina. Probably singing "Oh I justttt can't WAIT to be kiiiing!"

Just Keep Swimming

The motto of a 13 year old who fought cancer for 6 years before finally being given her angel wings:

"Just keep swimming."

I honestly don't remember how I stumbled across Talia Castellano, but it was because she was a kid, doing amazing makeup tutorials, with her cute little bald head out. "Makeup is my wig," she said.

Needless to say, I instantly fell in love with her and began following her journey to fame and through the trials childhood cancer. Her attitude amazed and inspired me, as did her positive outlook and constant smile. How do you not love a smile like this??

I have cried a lot of tears today over the world's loss of such a beautiful, old soul. This post isn't meant to be about her, but I really felt the need to share this beautiful face with my followers, since she had such an impact on my life and the lives of everyone who loved her, even those of us who never had the chance to meet her.

You can check out her official facebook page here.

Anyway, I've been in such a funk lately. I don't know why or what brought it on. I don't know how to fix it, either. It's getting harder and harder to get out of bed every morning, but not because I'm pregnant. I just don't want to deal with life. With any part of it. Maybe it's hormones, maybe it's my chronic depression rearing it's stupid head because I'm unable to take my medication...who knows, really. But the death of someone like Talia can really make you take a look at yourself and reevaluate your life. Why would someone like me be spared and someone like Talia be taken?

"Greatness lies on the edge of destruction. In the face of destruction, you pounded on your chest and put your arms up and said, 'I'm still standing! Bring it!'" -Will Smith

I was first diagnosed with cancer in 2007. I continued to work while I went through treatment, and when I wasn't involved in one of those, I spent a lot of time in bed. I was sick, I was depressed, and I was withdrawing from my family. I drove my mother crazy because I wouldn't let her go to any of my doctor appointments. I did it the second time around, too. When I look back back now, I guess that if I was going to be given a death sentence, I didn't want the burden of my family grieving with me. If I kept them in the dark and only allowed them to know what I told them, I could deal with everything on my own; I could deal with my own emotions without having to deal with the emotions of those who loved me. It was very selfish and I regret it now. But I was on auto-pilot and honestly didn't know I was doing it until it was too late.

I went through treatment, recovered and then was diagnosed with a different kind of cancer in 2009. My outlook was different this time, though. My son's father and I had broken up and I was living on my own. I still shut my family out a lot of the time, but I felt differently emotionally. I felt like I could really do this. There were days where I couldn't get out of bed, but there were also days where I could and would get up and go to work. Or days where I could get out of bed and go to the park, go shopping, spend time with friends.

But, let's be real here: I was a pain in the ass. A giant one. I wasn't a happy, smiling-all-the-time, bubbly, upbeat personality. I smiled and laughed, but it was usually because I was laughing at some sarcastic comment I or my best friend had made. I was selfish and chose to keep the people closest to me in the dark most of the time and refused any help they offered. It was how I coped and I did the best I could, yes, but I was a pain in the ass! So why was someone with such a positive personality, someone so loving and caring, taken away from the people she loved so early when someone such as myself was spared? Twice! It's something I ask myself constantly when I see such good forces die. It's incomprehensible to me.

I've been telling myself that it's because my work here isn't done. Then I laugh and laugh, because there are some people who have crossed me who really wish the opposite was true. Then I feel happy again because I know they're stuck with me and I know it drives them crazy. You see what I mean?? I can be so cynical, yet it makes me happy.

"Only the good die young." This is clearly true. I'll be here forever, guys. Enjoy. ;)

But I digress. I didn't want this post to be about my cancer, either.

What did I want this to be about?? I don't know. I started writing it yesterday and then got sidetracked (aka I didn't feel like opening up), so this feels very disjointed to me. Maybe I'll get my shit together, figure out what I wanted and write a new one.

In the meantime, let me know what you want to see more of on my blog. I'm still trying to get my footing in this whole blogging business, and I'm not sure where I want to go. I still like to let you guys know about freebies and good deals, but I really don't want that to be niche. What do yall think? Lemme know!

How To: Make Your Own Body Wash (W/Pics!!)

All right, remember when I told you that I would have something for that deal on the Old Spice bar soap? I'm FINALLY posting on it! (Click here if you missed that deal.)

Here's what I paid $0.50 for:

You'll need:

A bar of soap (of your choosing)

Grater

Cooking pot

2 cups water

Container to store body wash in

How to do it:

Grate your bar of soap. I only used half of a bar because I only wanted to make enough to fill the leftover body wash container I had. I actually ended up with enough to fill that container, plus half of another one. If your bar of soap is soft enough, you can actually just use a knife and cut it into smaller pieces. Grating can get tedious.

I placed a plastic bag under the pot to catch any mess, because the pot I chose was small. I would have been better off using newspaper, but you live and learn, right?

If you didn't grate your soap into your cooking pot like I did, now is the time to transfer it over.

Add 2 cups of water and heat on the stove. Stir your mixture frequently, until the flakes and pieces of soap have dissolved.

Turn the stove off and allow your body wash to cool for several hours. After about 2 hours, it will develop a skin. Check the consistency at that point. If it's too thick, reheat and add more water. I ended up adding another cup of water because this particular type of soap will turn more into a gel than the traditional wash. But guys really don't care, right? Not when you tell them how much money you're saving. ;) Additionally, if you think it's too watery, reheat and add more soap.

Once you have the consistency that you want, transfer your mixture into the container you want to use. I chose to put mine in a large measuring cup first, simply because it made it easier to put into the body wash container.

I used empty body wash containers from soap that my fiancee had already gone through, but I've seen people use things like condiment containers and mason jars. Put it in whatever's easiest for you.

That's it! You're done! It does take some time and effort, but let's break down the savings and see if it's right for you.

Let's say the average name brand body wash, such as Old Spice for men, is around $4 a bottle. That's pretty accurate. I spent $0.25 on a bar of soap, and made 1 1/2 bottles of body wash, just by using HALF of it. That's about 3 bottles of body wash per bar of soap.

So, what you would normally spend $12 on, I spent $0.25 on. That's a savings of 98%.

Now, let's put it into perspective and say that I bought the bars at their regular price of $0.90 per bar (Walmart price because their regular price is cheaper than Dollar General's, which is where I got this deal). That's still 3 bottles of body wash for $0.90, rather than $12. A savings of approximately 92%!

I'm going to be doing this with different types of soap and also adding different things to make them smell different, be more moisturizing and also have a different consistency, so I'll keep you posted as I do! Let me know how you make out if you decide to try this. If you have any questions, leave me a comment!

Happy saving!!

Last Night's Dinner Recipe (With Pics!!)

So um. I don't cook. Like ever. My fiancee is the chef around here. But, due to circumstances beyond my control, dinner was up to me last night.

Guys.

I SUCCEEDED.

My chicken got such rave reviews that I had to share the recipe with my loyal Zebras. It was seriously so moist and delicious that even my finicky 2 year old had some. So, here you go. YOU'RE WELCOME.

My (now) Famous Butter Chicken

You'll need:

• 4 skinless, boneless chicken bewbies (I actually used bewbies on the bone, all I did was increase the cook time)
• 2 eggs

• 1 cup crushed buttery cracker rounds. The more crushed, the better. I didn't crush so well, as you can see. Do as I say, not as I do, children.

• 1/2 teaspoon garlic salt

• Ground black pepper to taste (I just shook my pepper shaker over the bowl a few times, because who really knows what the hell that means)
• 1/2 cup butter, cut into pieces

How to do it:

• Preheat your oven to 375 degrees.
• Crack the eggs into a bowl and beat them. Beat them like they slapped your mama.
• Combine the crushed crackers, garlic salt and pepper in a separate bowl.
• Coat your bewbies (preferably the chicken ones, but, no judgment here!) in the eggs, then dredge them in your cracker mix.
• Place the chicken into a 9x13 baking dish. (I didn't have one, so I just put them in two oven safe dishes.)
• Put the pieces of butter all around the chicken. Like so.

• Put chicken in oven and cook for 40 mins. (Since my chicken wasn't boneless, I had to up the cook time to 55 mins.)

The finished product (I cut into the chicken to ensure it was done because it was so moist that I wasn't positive):

That's it. THAT'S. FREAKING. IT. The chicken comes out moist and your "breading" is delicious and complimentary. Such a quick and easy dish, right? Bookmark this page so you can save it for later and share it with your friends! I've been a single mom and I know what it's like to need to feed kids on the fly.

Happy cooking!! :)

Survivor's Guilt

A very good friend of mine passed away in 2007. It was 2am when I found out, when my boyfriend at the time picked me up from a club. I was struggling with alcoholism, trying to figure out how to deal with life after cancer (and not doing a very good job at it, I might add). The conversation was something like this:
"S is dead."
"...what?! OUR S?"
"YES, OUR S." The frustration in his voice at such a silly question was undeniable.
"What?! How?!" I'm sobbing at this point.
"He hung himself in his trailer."

I cried the whole way home and then continued to sob in the house. I called my dad, woke him up and sobbed to him about it. He was incredulous (probably mostly to appease me in my hysterics) because I was so young to have a friend commit suicide. What could possibly make someone so young want to end their life? It was unbelievable.

S wasn't buried here in America. His body was shipped to Bosnia, where his family is, and buried there. Several months after his death, his girlfriend invited us over. His family had mailed her the DVD of his funeral and burial. I packed my purse tight with tissues and we drove over and watched it. To see his body, his face in that box, a face that was so familiar to me and always full of life, lifeless...and then to see them lower his body into that hole in the ground...my heart physically hurt. It felt as if something was trying to wrench it from my chest. They threw the dirt over his coffin and, his girlfriend, who was pregnant at the time, nonchalantly says, "Welp, he's gone." It angered me that she was so cool about it, but I knew that she was struggling in a very different way than we were. She'd lost the love of her life, her best friend, the father of her unborn baby. Perhaps reacting coolly was the only way she knew how to deal with that level of grief.

How do you deal with something so tragic? I don't know. I went through years of tears and guilt, wondering why he didn't tell me what was going on. I knew things were bad and that he was having a hard time, but I had no idea it was so bad. I should have seen the signs. Well, I saw the signs, I just ignored them because I was mad at him. He was depressed and struggling with his failing business, and he began to withdraw from everyone. We used to see him all the time, several times a week. Suddenly, we would go months without seeing him. We thought that he was getting an attitude; we helped him build his own business and when things took off, he didn't feel he needed the little people anymore. That wasn't the case at all. He stopped by one day, after months of not seeing him, after my first cancer treatments were over and my hair had started to grow back. I remember it so clearly. He sat at the bottom of our stairs and I was sitting on the couch. He asked what happened to all my hair. I kind of smirked, thinking, "oh, NOW you're gonna ask, after everything's over and you missed everything?" and told him that I was sick. He said something like "noooo" or "no way" to indicate that he thought I was joking. My response was, "Don't believe me. I don't care." But, even in my anger, I could tell something was wrong with him. He wasn't himself. He wasn't smiling, wasn't joking. His eyes were dark. Why didn't I see that he needed help? Why didn't I, someone who's struggled with depression for my entire life, recognize pain when I saw it? I saw the signs and ignored them because of my own selfishness. Selfishness, by the way, that was completely unfounded. So I just let him go. I'm not sure we ever saw him again after that.

He came to me in a dream shortly after his death. I know it was him because when I woke up, it felt like he was still alive. Reality hitting was terrible, but I will forever treasure that dream. It was so vivid. The only part of the dream I remember is the one he's in. My car was parked in the garage with the garage door shut. He walked into the garage using the side door and I walked towards him. He was in his typical jeans, white sneakers, tan Carhartt jacket and white baseball cap. With these heartbreaking tears of sadness and apology in his eyes, he hugged me. He didn't say a word. But I knew he was hugging me and crying because he was sorry for what he had done and the pain he had caused. I could feel it.

I know why he did it. The 'why' doesn't really matter anymore. I just can't stop blaming myself for not seeing the obvious signs that I'm so familiar with and stepping in. I would have done anything to save his life. Man, I miss that little shit.