Recently, I read about Oregon’s Death with Dignity Act which allows for the terminally ill to take a lethal injection at a time of their choosing and end their life before their sickness can take it from them. And I can’t say that I’m any position to go against the act, but why is it only an option for those with terminal diseases?
Complex regional pain syndromes does not change my life expectancy but my quality of life has changed drastically since diagnosis. There is no cure. Every moment I’m awake, I suffer. And I’d like to say that I’m grateful it didn’t take my life but I’m not sure that it didn’t.
I will die in pain as I will have lived in pain. If the point of this act is to end suffering I don’t see why those who cannot be cured shouldn’t also be given the option. Shouldn’t everyone be given the chance to die with dignity?
Today is my father’s birthday. Earlier last week I’d mistaken it for another day and guilt washed over me like a wave, the kind of wave that would always pull me under if he weren’t standing there holding my hand. Daddy always plants his feet deep in the sand like the roots of an oak tree while I bury mine just beneath the surface and find myself easily uprooted by every passing wave.
Until recently I hadn’t understood the pressure my parents were under-and I don’t know that I’ll ever truly comprehend it, but here’s a start: They planted a seed in my mind, one with beliefs and values, and they can only hope that the roots have grown strong enough to avoid being overturned. They cannot hold my hand through every crashing wave, though I know that they wish they could, nor can they prevent life’s storms from washing the soil around the roots away.
The tree that grows within my mind is my responsibility, and whether it withers or flourishes, my parents need to know that they did not let it be barren.
The attention starved creature finally emerges from hibernation with the help of lovely french lyrics and a karaoke track. Thanks to some changes in youtube’s editing process and a few alterations to this site it took me longer than I had anticipated to get this up and ready. The countless mistakes,giggles, and distractions during filming might have also had a hand in it…. Give me a break! I’m a bit rusty. If you’re keen to feed the creature (Or starve it further) you can check out the cover here!
You can also take a look at the French and English lyrics right here so you can catch all my mistakes….or you could not do that. Anyways, bye for now. Big hugs!
So, it’s mandatory for my college to go through a course on sexual assault and relationship abuse. And I think that we should be made aware, but something struck me in one of the sessions about what qualifies as emotional abuse. It listed telling your partner or others that you had close relationships with about suicidal thoughts or attempts.
Initially, this seemed pretty black and white. I mean, having been in a relationship where someone holds something like their own emotional state over you; you certainly feel trapped. You are suddenly weighed down, cornered. You now feel a sense of responsibility for something out of your control.
Then, I thought about the times I had suffered and how alone those instances made me feel. How many times had I wanted to find in solace in solitude to no avail? I’d always been timid about sharing these vulnerable moments and my memories of them. Not only because I was afraid to admit that I’d been weak, but also because I didn’t want to drag anyone into the pits with me.
How can we encourage the broken to seek mending when we condemn their attempts as coercion? Is the only thing separating a plea for help and a play for power intent? If so, who are we to be certain of another’s intentions?
How many times have you looked at a guy/girl and thought to yourself: “He/she is so out of my league!” I’ve done it too, so I’m definitely not calling anybody out but, what if you’re next thought was “why do I think they’re out of my league? Who says and who the heck are they to tell me who I can and can’t date?” Then, the very next thought I challenge to have is “well, I’m gonna step up into that league!”
You can pursue who you want and don’t let anyone tell you differently. Big hugs
Long time, no blog. yeah, okay that was super geeky. Let’s just pretend I never said that okay? Yea, cool. So, as I stated in my awkward introduction, it has been quite a long time since I’ve even tried to write a post. I kept trying to think of a topic worth writing about and fought with the idea that it didn’t really matter what I wrote since no one was reading it anyways, but eventually I realized that I had taken a small step towards manic pixie dream girl-dom.
For those who don’t remember: a manic pixie dream girl is an archetypal character often employed in romantic comedies to remind the gloomy protagonist to love life and enjoy the little things with her quirky attitude and endearing idiosyncrasies. MPDG typically have something that stands out about their appearances like an eccentric way of dressing or a peculiar dye job.
Wait a minute! I happen to have a
peculiar dye job!
My hair is pink now, in fact; it has been since February and I haven’t even thought to mention it. Just goes to show that you easily overlook those steps closer to your dreams even those around you are screaming it. (In this case, quite literally screaming
oh my gosh! Your hair!!
) So, I challenge you all to sit down and really think about the things you’ve accomplished and the steps that you’ve taken. No, I don’t necessarily mean that you’ve dyed your hair, but maybe that you’ve had the guts to or that you wear it with your head held high. You may have finished several chapters of your novel or learned a challenging piece on guitar. Maybe you finally understand the hidden meaning to an intricate poem. Just think about the things you’ve achieved, even if you feel that your thoughts are a little rose colored. That’s right, I’m encouraging each of you to think pink!
What do you guys think? Are you also ready to punch out that preteen pack? (not encouraging violence here, I wouldn’t really hit any tweeners….hard. No no not at all. I would not hit them, that’s wrong)