I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. I guess "supposed to" doesn't matter. What is, is. I miss my dog. I don't know how to not need her. I want her back...how many times have I said that the past 2 months? I lost count. I wasn't really counting. I need her. How do I live without her? The world still doesn't make since. I had a dream again. That she came back. She was "dead" for 7 days, wherever they kept her (looked like those slide out things in the morgue...or the crypt in "National Treasure"). A box. But not like the box she's in right now, her ashes. Metal, she was whole. Had scratched on it from the inside...that's how they found out she was still alive. It seemed normal. She was home. Had an operation on her stomach, and it was whole again - not "separated". Of course the dream didn't last. I woke up. August 18.
I'm down again. But honestly, it's kind of better than that middle place I was in. I hate that middle place - not up, not down. It's not the same as being "stable". Stable feels good, safe, healthy. This is when something bad happens and you should be down, but the meds won't let you fall...or cry. I know it's what they're supposed to do, but sometimes you need to cry to release. Antidepressants don't take away the pain or fear or troublesome thoughts. They just keep your moods from fluctuating crazy and send "feel good" signals to your brain (ie. seratonin). But nothing in this world is going to make me feel good about someone I love dying, or my friends in pain. My heart hurts for them. And if the hurt has nowhere to go...you feel trapped inside of yourself. And happiness? I'm too tired, too worried to be that up. Can't let myself be happy when I'm this terrified about the future. I have no income...I had to borrow over $800 for rent from people who are struggling themselves. Am I supposed to be happy about that?
I need a job. Technically my column on Examiner.com is contract employment since I had to submit info for taxes. But after 9 months and 24 articles (which take me 3-5 hrs, including research and verifying info, links) I have not received a cent. Need about $10 worth of more page views to make it to the $25 mark (min for payout). Do you know what you can do with $25 when you're broke? I was hoping one of my friends or contacts would give writing a try and use me as a referral. The $50 bonus would guarantee payment. But I'm on my own. A lot of people help, they do. And I'm grateful. Because this is important to me. It's just not enough.
I have to get something that won't trigger anxiety (no retail - I still have nightmares). I need a job right NOW because I need money. But I'm not physically healthy right NOW. So what do I do? I do what I always do. But maybe, maybe if I can find the one that brings me joy just to read the ad, I can do this. Be safe & happy & healthy. Content and ABLE. I've applied to some music/social media/writing jobs. It's what I want. Where I am right now. I think about selling online again, make some extra money, like so many of my friends are doing. Guilty...not lazy - I just can't put my heart into it right now. Can't sew with anxiety, don't want to design right now. Soon, just not right now. What do I do? I have to push harder. I just need more time. And time ran out months ago. No more UC. There are options, has taken weeks, but... I'm doing what I have to do. I follow through.
Speaking of...
#AMIA - I have typed that so much the past few months...I'll never forget those letters :) Blue has great letters. We all get it. The new album is...intense. Emotional, powerful. And musically dynamic. I think they've reached a whole new level with this. Everyone's saying this is the best musically. I can't disagree. There's something very special about it. We felt it even before the singles were released...when all we had were the radio samples. And it's true. It is special. And heartbreaking and angry and loving and hopeful. I can't say I enjoy the explicit (and sometimes mean) language, but that's just me. I don't listen to stuff like that in general, never did. BUT I have opened my mind (and embraced my darker side) the past couple years, so I can adapt and accept, even enjoy. I admire his honesty and courage, always. I'm a contradiction myself. And of course it helps that I expected the album to be as it was. If you read/listened to any interviews, reviews, tweets, FB posts, or just paid attention to the band in general this past year...well, there were no secrets as to what the theme would be. Listening to it is a different matter, and it did take me a little bit to get past the personal and hear it as a music album. The whole thing has an 80's feel to me (which I suspected when The Chills was first debuted on 101X). Not really my genre, but I love music so I can appreciate mostly anything. I love the new sound. It's different, it's pretty, it's hard-hitting, it's just so so cool.
I thought about doing a review for Vivogig but I think I have to keep my personal thoughts to myself. Too many mixed emotions, too much drama already from fans. I'm not getting involved. I know this scene all too well. And I'm truly sick of it. People lose sight of what's really important. Get involved in other people's business, people they've never met or barely know. Choosing sides when there are no sides, just people trying to live their lives & survive, work out their problems between themselves. I just pray that no one gets physically hurt. Emotionally, I can't stop it. I can have compassion even if I don't agree with something or someone. I know enough to know there's so much more to everyone. I accept the bad and embrace the good. And I will continue to support the BAND no matter what. There are more people involved here, families. I respect them, I care for them. I've been through it all and I'm still here, right? I don't give up even during the darkest times.
I can't help but think about the past. Despite our common "enemy" (and how I wish he wasn't. But that's done)...this album sparks certain traumatic events from a different point of view (coming from the woman). The last line in the voice recording at the beginning of The Flight...those are almost the exact words I heard last December (along with many many more). Needless to say, it cut me deep...again. Like a stab. Or a slap. Cold. You flinch when certain words are being thrown at you. Public humiliation. Private pain. And you thought physical abuse is the only way to get a beating? Cycles, cycles, cycles.
But, I'm trying to get past it. I hope he can. And I pray that little girl is no longer put in the middle. She's the most important thing. Two loving parents. I pray that's all she knows.
Those are just my feelings. Not put on anyone. I just have to write. It lessens the terror a little bit. I pray for me too. Because I'm not well. I need to stop pretending I am. My heart to yours. Take me as I am. And give back the same. I deserve the whole, not just the pieces. I'm living. It's all.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
I had a dream...
The world lost the most beautiful soul. But I have to believe that she's still out there somewhere. I had a dream that she came back...because that's what I want. But it didn't make things better. Because she had to leave again. Waking up was not pleasant. Maybe it will get easier in time, and I'll cherish these moments. Dreaming about my aunt was painful at first, but now it's a comfort. Maybe seeing my dog alive again, feeling her presence, touching her soft fur, will become one of those moments. A familiar face to guide me. The love outshining everything else...
I wonder if birthdays will feel the same. I gave her my day...I let her have peace. I would have done anything for her, given my life. But all I had to offer was the day God gave me life. My prayers. He couldn't heal her earthly body, so he fixed her the only way He could. I know. But I still want her here. I'm already not a big fan of getting older, being put on the spot. Having all that attention on me is hard...although easier now that I'm not as shy. But people still mistake my age. And I'm forever fearful of getting "that look" that says I'm crazy, I can't really be that old. Looks can be deceiving. Too many people don't look beyond the surface, only assume what they expect you to be. Don't look at the details, don't trust their intuition, don't get to know you before judging you. Talking behind your back. Putting you into a category you didn't ask for. People should really be thankful that I'm a nice, quiet person...I could start wars with all the stuff I know. What I've seen...about me, about others. I don't forget. And just because you delete a post when someone calls you on it doesn't mean they didn't already make a copy, a record for themselves. Remember that. It's better to be my ally than my enemy. Look at all I give, look at who I know. You're burning bridges by treating me (or someone I care about) unfairly. Being honest does not mean you have to be cruel. And it's pretty foolish to expect to remain in our lives after something like that. Especially with no apology, no explanation, no effort to work things out. Cutting ties because you're mad, because someone didn't take your advice or has a different opinion than you. Why are you better? Is it really worth it? Is it that easy to walk away? I guess if it is, they weren't strong enough to have me. Beliefs don't change. I can't trust someone who I can't trust.
Enough rambling. I've just been thinking of things. Feeling angry. A year, 2 years...I need to let it go. But I can't. And now I know why. I'm an emotional person, and every event in my life is tied to an emotion. So when I think of it again, I'm feeling what I felt the first time, like it's happening again. And no, it's not a choice and I can't just stop. All the years of being told to let go of the past, stop dwelling on it, move on. I could never do it, as much as I tried. But I'm not weak, I'm not less than others. I'm just made differently. I was meant to hold on, to love, to remember the special moments. The emotions. I don't know why it's always a bad thing. And even though I hate reliving the bad memories or mistakes, the unreasonable worries and doubts and fear, it's part of me too. And we have to learn from the past, it's what shaped us. Whether we like it or not. And sometimes memories are all we have left of someone. I'm holding on to that.
I'm tired. And scared. And lost. My heart is heavy with grief, my mind is cluttered with worries. They're mine. I'll figure them out. Step by step by step.
Nothing more to say. Just ask if you want to know. And don't underestimate me. There's more in me than you'll ever know. And it's my turn to speak. Listen.
13-23-33
I wonder if birthdays will feel the same. I gave her my day...I let her have peace. I would have done anything for her, given my life. But all I had to offer was the day God gave me life. My prayers. He couldn't heal her earthly body, so he fixed her the only way He could. I know. But I still want her here. I'm already not a big fan of getting older, being put on the spot. Having all that attention on me is hard...although easier now that I'm not as shy. But people still mistake my age. And I'm forever fearful of getting "that look" that says I'm crazy, I can't really be that old. Looks can be deceiving. Too many people don't look beyond the surface, only assume what they expect you to be. Don't look at the details, don't trust their intuition, don't get to know you before judging you. Talking behind your back. Putting you into a category you didn't ask for. People should really be thankful that I'm a nice, quiet person...I could start wars with all the stuff I know. What I've seen...about me, about others. I don't forget. And just because you delete a post when someone calls you on it doesn't mean they didn't already make a copy, a record for themselves. Remember that. It's better to be my ally than my enemy. Look at all I give, look at who I know. You're burning bridges by treating me (or someone I care about) unfairly. Being honest does not mean you have to be cruel. And it's pretty foolish to expect to remain in our lives after something like that. Especially with no apology, no explanation, no effort to work things out. Cutting ties because you're mad, because someone didn't take your advice or has a different opinion than you. Why are you better? Is it really worth it? Is it that easy to walk away? I guess if it is, they weren't strong enough to have me. Beliefs don't change. I can't trust someone who I can't trust.
Enough rambling. I've just been thinking of things. Feeling angry. A year, 2 years...I need to let it go. But I can't. And now I know why. I'm an emotional person, and every event in my life is tied to an emotion. So when I think of it again, I'm feeling what I felt the first time, like it's happening again. And no, it's not a choice and I can't just stop. All the years of being told to let go of the past, stop dwelling on it, move on. I could never do it, as much as I tried. But I'm not weak, I'm not less than others. I'm just made differently. I was meant to hold on, to love, to remember the special moments. The emotions. I don't know why it's always a bad thing. And even though I hate reliving the bad memories or mistakes, the unreasonable worries and doubts and fear, it's part of me too. And we have to learn from the past, it's what shaped us. Whether we like it or not. And sometimes memories are all we have left of someone. I'm holding on to that.
I'm tired. And scared. And lost. My heart is heavy with grief, my mind is cluttered with worries. They're mine. I'll figure them out. Step by step by step.
Nothing more to say. Just ask if you want to know. And don't underestimate me. There's more in me than you'll ever know. And it's my turn to speak. Listen.
13-23-33
Friday, June 10, 2011
Fueling the Fire
I felt the need to write lately, but I didn't know what to write. I'm having days where I just want to retreat to my shell and hide from the world. Anxiety, fears, panic, dizziness, nausea. Just another day in the neighborhood. I'm so tired of it...this cycle.
Guess I'm inspired now. God, my heart hurts. And I won't say a word. Because I'm the protector. I don't want to hurt anyone, don't want to mess up their life, take away their happiness. Everyone deserves happiness, to have things the way they want them...to have the "right" kind of people around them. Beside them, loving them. I have no right to destroy that...even touch it. So I sit back and watch. And hurt. Because I did care, so much...and I wasn't good enough. Once again.
People want to say all the great things about me, how there's someone out there for me. Be patient, keep trying, move on. Let go of the past. Well, that's hard to do when the past follows you. Do you think I ever forget? Anything? Anyone? The feelings remain. And I'm thinking maybe that doesn't happen for everyone, maybe that's not normal. Maybe the reason I can't let go and move on is because the feelings never change in me. Because those memories and moments are a part of me forever. How do you move on from something that's a part of you? You can't. Don't tell me to try...I've tried. I'm so sick of advice. From married people and couples and single men. Acting like they understand when they've never been in this situation, never had to sit alone wondering why everyone else is chosen, but not you. Saying I'm beautiful and brushing it off when I say I have self-esteem issues from being told I wasn't pretty growing up. Telling me I'm amazing and any guy would be lucky to have me, but they don't want me for themselves? I truly don't understand. I truly don't. If I have deep feelings for someone, I want them in my life. I want to be with them, I wouldn't let them go. I wouldn't push them away. I would love them with my whole heart.
I'm tired of explaining, tired of complaining. It's just the same thing over and over. I just need to keep to myself. Just confide in who I trust and just live this stupid life I was given. I try to be better, I try to do good things. I've made a difference. But I'm always left behind. I'm so lonely. I am alone. There's no one that knows all of me...no one who has gotten close enough for long enough to be trusted with all of me.
Why don't guys want me? Why do they always walk away....find someone else? Or just walk away. I'm special too. I'm worth it too. But no one can see me.
I don't want the pretty words. They belong in my daydream world. I have to live in reality. And reality is that not everyone finds their perfect match...or a match period. Some settle, some just live alone. I can accept my place in life. While hating it just the same. It's not my nature, you see -- I'm a romantic, I'm meant for love. To love and be loved. Without it, there's no me. And I feel so empty. I have friends, family, kids, pets that make me happy. I've had wonderful moments and have been given the best gifts. Even if the depression doesn't let me see it sometimes, I know it's there. I appreciate it. But there are holes in my heart that those things can't fill. It's like they're labeled and shaped for a specific item...and I don't have anything to put in that space. I find things that fit, people who seem to care for me as much as I do them...but that changes, they change. Or maybe they just never knew me, I wasn't what they wanted. It's hard to keep trying, keep reaching out. I'm not searching for anyone. I am very independent. But people come into my life and I can't help but care. They touch my heart, they change my life. I'm never stronger than when I have someone beside me. They make me strive to be better...or their essence just brings positivity to my life. I don't know. But it makes a difference. And maybe that's not normal either. But I've never been normal...I'm still the strange shy girl, I guess. Just older. And I hit back now.
I feel too vulnerable. Too many things hurt now. I want to delete so many things. Because I don't want to come off the wrong way. Crazy. But I do. Because I lead with my emotions. It's what I am. Sometimes it's all I am. I can't be what I'm not. I can't be anything but who I am...
I want to feel again...I like feeling love. I like having that in my heart, I like giving. That's what fuels me. But I'm tired of the breaks. I'm tired of the pain. I'm tired of people looking at me and seeing something I'm not. Expecting things of me that I don't have to give, to be. I don't know what they see. It's not what I see. I don't see all bad, I know my good parts too. It's just not enough. And don't say "one day it will be". There's no guarantee of that. Millions of people are single and childless. And people die every day.
So, to let go again. And not be bitter and cold-hearted. Not become what the fire has created. But maybe a little. I have to protect myself too. And if anyone really truly loved me enough and wanted me enough, they wouldn't walk away. They would fight for me, choose me. They'd be the first...
Guess I'm inspired now. God, my heart hurts. And I won't say a word. Because I'm the protector. I don't want to hurt anyone, don't want to mess up their life, take away their happiness. Everyone deserves happiness, to have things the way they want them...to have the "right" kind of people around them. Beside them, loving them. I have no right to destroy that...even touch it. So I sit back and watch. And hurt. Because I did care, so much...and I wasn't good enough. Once again.
People want to say all the great things about me, how there's someone out there for me. Be patient, keep trying, move on. Let go of the past. Well, that's hard to do when the past follows you. Do you think I ever forget? Anything? Anyone? The feelings remain. And I'm thinking maybe that doesn't happen for everyone, maybe that's not normal. Maybe the reason I can't let go and move on is because the feelings never change in me. Because those memories and moments are a part of me forever. How do you move on from something that's a part of you? You can't. Don't tell me to try...I've tried. I'm so sick of advice. From married people and couples and single men. Acting like they understand when they've never been in this situation, never had to sit alone wondering why everyone else is chosen, but not you. Saying I'm beautiful and brushing it off when I say I have self-esteem issues from being told I wasn't pretty growing up. Telling me I'm amazing and any guy would be lucky to have me, but they don't want me for themselves? I truly don't understand. I truly don't. If I have deep feelings for someone, I want them in my life. I want to be with them, I wouldn't let them go. I wouldn't push them away. I would love them with my whole heart.
I'm tired of explaining, tired of complaining. It's just the same thing over and over. I just need to keep to myself. Just confide in who I trust and just live this stupid life I was given. I try to be better, I try to do good things. I've made a difference. But I'm always left behind. I'm so lonely. I am alone. There's no one that knows all of me...no one who has gotten close enough for long enough to be trusted with all of me.
Why don't guys want me? Why do they always walk away....find someone else? Or just walk away. I'm special too. I'm worth it too. But no one can see me.
I don't want the pretty words. They belong in my daydream world. I have to live in reality. And reality is that not everyone finds their perfect match...or a match period. Some settle, some just live alone. I can accept my place in life. While hating it just the same. It's not my nature, you see -- I'm a romantic, I'm meant for love. To love and be loved. Without it, there's no me. And I feel so empty. I have friends, family, kids, pets that make me happy. I've had wonderful moments and have been given the best gifts. Even if the depression doesn't let me see it sometimes, I know it's there. I appreciate it. But there are holes in my heart that those things can't fill. It's like they're labeled and shaped for a specific item...and I don't have anything to put in that space. I find things that fit, people who seem to care for me as much as I do them...but that changes, they change. Or maybe they just never knew me, I wasn't what they wanted. It's hard to keep trying, keep reaching out. I'm not searching for anyone. I am very independent. But people come into my life and I can't help but care. They touch my heart, they change my life. I'm never stronger than when I have someone beside me. They make me strive to be better...or their essence just brings positivity to my life. I don't know. But it makes a difference. And maybe that's not normal either. But I've never been normal...I'm still the strange shy girl, I guess. Just older. And I hit back now.
I feel too vulnerable. Too many things hurt now. I want to delete so many things. Because I don't want to come off the wrong way. Crazy. But I do. Because I lead with my emotions. It's what I am. Sometimes it's all I am. I can't be what I'm not. I can't be anything but who I am...
I want to feel again...I like feeling love. I like having that in my heart, I like giving. That's what fuels me. But I'm tired of the breaks. I'm tired of the pain. I'm tired of people looking at me and seeing something I'm not. Expecting things of me that I don't have to give, to be. I don't know what they see. It's not what I see. I don't see all bad, I know my good parts too. It's just not enough. And don't say "one day it will be". There's no guarantee of that. Millions of people are single and childless. And people die every day.
So, to let go again. And not be bitter and cold-hearted. Not become what the fire has created. But maybe a little. I have to protect myself too. And if anyone really truly loved me enough and wanted me enough, they wouldn't walk away. They would fight for me, choose me. They'd be the first...
Monday, May 23, 2011
I feel like a journalist
Is writing the way to go? Or music promotion? Guess I'm doing both...
Blue October brings their acoustic tour to Philadelphia
Vivogig Guest Post: Blue October in Philadelphia
It's been an Amazing week. So much more than I can even describe.
Blue October brings their acoustic tour to Philadelphia
Vivogig Guest Post: Blue October in Philadelphia
It's been an Amazing week. So much more than I can even describe.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
How do I get past this?
There are some scars you can't see. Some wounds that never heal. But they are real.
"Emotional abuse is a devastating, debilitating heart and soul mutilation. The deepest lasting wound with any abuse is the emotional wound."
I'm not a poet...and most of the time I feel like people don't get what I'm trying to say. But I seem to have a way with words. Must be all the stories in my head. I'm not so good at talking...lack of confidence, have to measure my words, reserved nature. But I do what I have to do. I can lead, I can supervise, I can manage. I can excel. I'm just not what people expect.
Is that the reason for all the conflicts? Why someone who calls me a good friend can change that to a failure of a friend within a year? Why they think it's necessary to point out my every flaw and belittle me, cut me down, make me small? I know I'm a sensitive person, but I didn't overreact. And I didn't deserve it.
I didn't know the first time...with the first one. It hurts more to lose someone you love. To have them look at you that way. To look at them every day knowing that you're not..quite..good enough. When you have to be a different person for everyone around you.
And the other...I can't talk about it, even almost 6 months past. I can't talk about it. And I can't forget how good of a friend he was to me. How much he changed my life, gave me something special that was always waiting for me. Music. And I gave it my all. Anyone who knows, anyone who was there, knows how much I gave.
I could understand anger, I could understand him being upset. But the things he said, the way he said them...and the fact that he found delight in ridiculing me in public. How do you ever get past that? And worse, how do you forgive the ones who sided with him...who thought my pain was unreasonable. I was the monster, I was lectured. And then...I'm supposed to keep you? How?
This is just my side. My story. Who's do you expect me to tell?
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It's So Difficult
It's so difficult to look at you, knowing how you feel about me
Why am I a mistake, why is the bad all you see?
You say that I'm crazy and then just lock the door
As you turn away you don't see the way the pain cripples me to the floor
I wish I could be the kind of person you want in your life
Never causing you burden, disappointment, or any ounce of strife
I can't change who I am to be better for you
I can't make you care for me the way I need you to
I don't want to lose you, I don't want this to be the end
I pray for you to understand and want to remain my friend
But I can only wish you happiness and a life of joy for now
You don't want to deal with me so I'll step aside somehow
Know this though, you'll be forever in my heart
Time won't erase the memories and of me you'll always be part
Facebook note - by Nicole McMillan - Friday, May 7, 2010
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No Words
You came to my house and I invited you in with a smile. You smiled back and we talked for awhile. But I must have said something wrong because suddenly your smile was gone. In your hand was a bat and you swung it fast and hard. Beating me, beating me, beating me until I fell to the floor. Then you beat me some more. "You got what you deserved," you say. "You need to learn." My hands were shaking, my heart was breaking, my soul began to burn. You left. I cried out to you, "You're right, I'm sorry, I won't say another word. I promise I'll stay away." But you came back and said "Don't worry, we'll talk, it will all be ok." I cleaned up the blood, but lay there in pain. I couldn't close the wounds. Not yet, not again. You kept knocking on my door. And I kept letting you in. Sometimes I didn't say a word, sometimes I did and you beat me again. I started to believe it...that I was nothing to him at all. I didn't know who to ask for help, they said, "Well you shouldn't have set him off." At times I thought the only solution was to disappear forever. But strangers and friends came by to clean my wounds and make it better. I couldn't let go, he had been so good to me, the love was all I could see. My best friend for so long...and I thought he would come back again. I gave and gave and gave my heart and asked for more time to repair it. But one more slap, that wasn't fast enough. And I could no longer bear it. I took what was left away and sat down quietly. I didn't tell my family until it was over because I didn't want them to see me bleed. Now I wait for the pain to pass and try to understand...why is it ok for someone to hit you with words, but not their hand?
Facebook note - by Nicole McMillan - Wednesday, December 22, 2010
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I need therapy...I know it. To manage the depression and anxiety if nothing else. Cognitive behavioral therapy. I have to train myself to think differently. I've already done some on my own...without knowing what it is. In the past. And I know that the things in the last 4 years have deeply scarred me. Events from childhood have shaped me. Probably have PTSD and a dozen other things. I have to be comfortable with what I do. But I will do it. I want to be better.
I already edited this. Too much personal info. Not that they'll be around to care. And I'll still regret speaking of this after it's posted. Because I'm not an outgoing person. And I can't write a simple short blog. It has to come out. Because it's hurting me by staying inside. And maybe I want my new friends to know why I am the way I am. Why I don't trust. Why I can't just believe the words. Words are easy. Actions are hard. There are many who have proven themselves by their actions. And I owe them more than I can give...I'll never ever forget what they did for me. How they stood by me, stood up for me. Faced so much toxic opposition for ME. For me. But I'd do it for them. Some things are just right to do. Sometimes you just have to do what's morally right. Especially for those you love. Thank you for being there.
I may delete this. But right now I'm too stressed and anxious to care. My emotions are blocked. Manic phase? I'm just a unipolar bear anyway. Tired.
I don't want to lose readers/followers/friends. I say too much, with too much emotion. But I have to be me. I don't want to hide who I am anymore. I know it would be easier, but it would hurt so much more. This is the right way for me. For now.
But I'm not crazy. I'm just complex.
"Emotional abuse is a devastating, debilitating heart and soul mutilation. The deepest lasting wound with any abuse is the emotional wound."
I'm not a poet...and most of the time I feel like people don't get what I'm trying to say. But I seem to have a way with words. Must be all the stories in my head. I'm not so good at talking...lack of confidence, have to measure my words, reserved nature. But I do what I have to do. I can lead, I can supervise, I can manage. I can excel. I'm just not what people expect.
Is that the reason for all the conflicts? Why someone who calls me a good friend can change that to a failure of a friend within a year? Why they think it's necessary to point out my every flaw and belittle me, cut me down, make me small? I know I'm a sensitive person, but I didn't overreact. And I didn't deserve it.
I didn't know the first time...with the first one. It hurts more to lose someone you love. To have them look at you that way. To look at them every day knowing that you're not..quite..good enough. When you have to be a different person for everyone around you.
And the other...I can't talk about it, even almost 6 months past. I can't talk about it. And I can't forget how good of a friend he was to me. How much he changed my life, gave me something special that was always waiting for me. Music. And I gave it my all. Anyone who knows, anyone who was there, knows how much I gave.
I could understand anger, I could understand him being upset. But the things he said, the way he said them...and the fact that he found delight in ridiculing me in public. How do you ever get past that? And worse, how do you forgive the ones who sided with him...who thought my pain was unreasonable. I was the monster, I was lectured. And then...I'm supposed to keep you? How?
This is just my side. My story. Who's do you expect me to tell?
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It's So Difficult
It's so difficult to look at you, knowing how you feel about me
Why am I a mistake, why is the bad all you see?
You say that I'm crazy and then just lock the door
As you turn away you don't see the way the pain cripples me to the floor
I wish I could be the kind of person you want in your life
Never causing you burden, disappointment, or any ounce of strife
I can't change who I am to be better for you
I can't make you care for me the way I need you to
I don't want to lose you, I don't want this to be the end
I pray for you to understand and want to remain my friend
But I can only wish you happiness and a life of joy for now
You don't want to deal with me so I'll step aside somehow
Know this though, you'll be forever in my heart
Time won't erase the memories and of me you'll always be part
Facebook note - by Nicole McMillan - Friday, May 7, 2010
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No Words
You came to my house and I invited you in with a smile. You smiled back and we talked for awhile. But I must have said something wrong because suddenly your smile was gone. In your hand was a bat and you swung it fast and hard. Beating me, beating me, beating me until I fell to the floor. Then you beat me some more. "You got what you deserved," you say. "You need to learn." My hands were shaking, my heart was breaking, my soul began to burn. You left. I cried out to you, "You're right, I'm sorry, I won't say another word. I promise I'll stay away." But you came back and said "Don't worry, we'll talk, it will all be ok." I cleaned up the blood, but lay there in pain. I couldn't close the wounds. Not yet, not again. You kept knocking on my door. And I kept letting you in. Sometimes I didn't say a word, sometimes I did and you beat me again. I started to believe it...that I was nothing to him at all. I didn't know who to ask for help, they said, "Well you shouldn't have set him off." At times I thought the only solution was to disappear forever. But strangers and friends came by to clean my wounds and make it better. I couldn't let go, he had been so good to me, the love was all I could see. My best friend for so long...and I thought he would come back again. I gave and gave and gave my heart and asked for more time to repair it. But one more slap, that wasn't fast enough. And I could no longer bear it. I took what was left away and sat down quietly. I didn't tell my family until it was over because I didn't want them to see me bleed. Now I wait for the pain to pass and try to understand...why is it ok for someone to hit you with words, but not their hand?
Facebook note - by Nicole McMillan - Wednesday, December 22, 2010
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I need therapy...I know it. To manage the depression and anxiety if nothing else. Cognitive behavioral therapy. I have to train myself to think differently. I've already done some on my own...without knowing what it is. In the past. And I know that the things in the last 4 years have deeply scarred me. Events from childhood have shaped me. Probably have PTSD and a dozen other things. I have to be comfortable with what I do. But I will do it. I want to be better.
I already edited this. Too much personal info. Not that they'll be around to care. And I'll still regret speaking of this after it's posted. Because I'm not an outgoing person. And I can't write a simple short blog. It has to come out. Because it's hurting me by staying inside. And maybe I want my new friends to know why I am the way I am. Why I don't trust. Why I can't just believe the words. Words are easy. Actions are hard. There are many who have proven themselves by their actions. And I owe them more than I can give...I'll never ever forget what they did for me. How they stood by me, stood up for me. Faced so much toxic opposition for ME. For me. But I'd do it for them. Some things are just right to do. Sometimes you just have to do what's morally right. Especially for those you love. Thank you for being there.
I may delete this. But right now I'm too stressed and anxious to care. My emotions are blocked. Manic phase? I'm just a unipolar bear anyway. Tired.
I don't want to lose readers/followers/friends. I say too much, with too much emotion. But I have to be me. I don't want to hide who I am anymore. I know it would be easier, but it would hurt so much more. This is the right way for me. For now.
But I'm not crazy. I'm just complex.
Monday, April 25, 2011
The good little human
It's one of those days where I can feel the monster inside, where it's so big it's almost bursting out of me. Screaming. Where I want to scratch my face and rip off my skin to let it out. I want to hurt myself because what's inside is hurting me...I want to hurt it back. But it's me. Confusing? I guess I am.
What am I really? What do YOU see when you look at me, when you listen to me speak, when you read what I write? Who am I in your mind? Do you see a pretty face...or do you see ugliness? Do you think of a "good girl" when you hear my name...or a poisonous one? Do you remember the things I did for you out of kindness...or the things I said out of anger? Or sadness or pain. Does an apology and an explanation make things better...or does it just make me pathetic? Do you see me...or the monster? Aren't we one in the same?
Some people see both. One one day, the other another day. They switch back and forth...or treat me as a good human at first, then treat me like a bug on the bottom of their shoe. I'm worthless, unwanted, a mistake, a failure. Boring, manipulative, flawed, a lost cause, weak, sad, bad bad bad. Is that me? Or am I the other things: honest, kind, loving, supportive, encouraging, beautiful, strong. I'm a lot of things...and I'm very few things. Just depends on the perspective. Mine too.
"I don't wanna hear you sssssssay it..."
"Save your breath, I know the story, I've heard it all before..."
"I don't care if you wait before you tear me apart. Look me in the eye...and lie lie lie lie."
When you've been told something enough times, you start to believe it. Even if you know it's not true, even if you talked yourself out of it before. THEY all believe it...so it must be true, right? I can look in the mirror and see what they were making fun of...so that's true..? I can reread my words and see what they got mad at...so that's true..? I know who I am. I know all the flaws and issues and failures and mistakes and bad points. No one has to tell me about myself. No one has to make a list, a public list, of all the things wrong with me. No one has to tell me why I'm not farther ahead in my life. Or the traits that make me unattractive. No one has to tell me that if I wasn't so quiet in school I could have been popular...or that if I wasn't so quiet my whole entire life, maybe I'd have more friends or be married. No one has to tell me why no man will ever want me or want to have kids with me. You don't think all those thoughts haven't gone through my head already? Maybe I shouldn't say certain things or maybe I should say other things. Maybe I should hide the bad and only show the good. Who cares if it eats away at me until I die? At least I would be what everyone wants. Give into the guilt and move back to that city...I'll be around family...doesn't matter if it kills me, if I have to live with the never-ending anxiety again. I'll be doing what they think I should. Drive hours and hours to a concert alone while I'm sick and have no money? Ok, that will prove my worthiness...and if I die in that neighborhood or get hurt or pass out on the road...well, at least I did what I was supposed to do.
I'm mean, nasty. A bad friend, a horrid person. I'm the monster.
I have anger inside of me. That's from holding emotions in for 30 years. That's from keeping a constant game face on and pretending that I was ok when I wasn't. Stopping myself from passing out, from throwing up when I was sick. Smiling, smiling. Except my eyes. But who cares. If you don't want to see, you won't.
I'm the one who's supposed to keep everything together. Give, help, assist, do everything just right. Keep doing and doing until I fall. Get up and keep doing and doing until I break. Cry quietly and shake...then pull it together and keep doing. And doing. Working hard...while appearing lazy. Being strong...while appearing weak. I'm tired of falling. I'm tired of the slaps...of being kicked down. Look at her there, on the floor. I'm better than her...I'm bigger than her. She can't do anything. That's how I feel...when they say the words, when they look at me that way. I can't even tell you who...it's just my life. It's always been my life. People have hurt me, they've wanted to. I have records...so I'm not making it up. Diaries since I was a kid. Maybe no one will understand the words but me. But I lived it. I lived through it. And so many times wish I didn't. Wondered why I didn't drown. Why...why didn't the darkness take me. Why didn't I have the strength and courage to finally, fatally, fix myself. I was weak then. I'm not now. But I'm not stupid either. So why should I take your advice [speaking to the world]? Why yours and not his? Why hers and not my own? Who knows best? Who has the better answer? If I say I don't want answers, I don't want that kind of help...can you respect it? Can you just be there and listen? Say something encouraging, say you believe in me...even if you disagree with me. Do you know how much goes unsaid? I don't like to hurt anyone. I keep so much to myself. Other people's secrets. My own thoughts. Things come out...things that need to and things that should stay hidden. But I don't say things to hurt. I say what I feel or think at the time. And yes, I will fight like a wounded animal if I feel attacked. I will fight like a protective mother bear if anyone I care about is being hurt. That's who I am. Look at me and see it.
I ask no one to like me. I ask no one to agree with me or share my beliefs. I have my own way of doing things -- in my life. If you cross over into my daily life, then I may want the relationship to be a certain way. I may want you to do certain things to make me feel secure, to show me that you care and that I can trust you. But I won't tell you what to believe or how to live your life. If you want help or advice, if you ask for it, I'll do my best to give you what you need. I'll go out of my way to show you how much I care. And if you don't know...ask me to explain. If I don't make sense, ask me to explain. If I get stubborn and start to argue, try to understand why...argue back if you have to. Just talk to me. Just be real.
Honesty doesn't mean cruelty. Telling someone a certain outfit doesn't flatter their figure or complexion isn't the same as calling someone a fat ugly slob. Asking me why I'm sad today isn't the same as telling me that I'm the most negative person you ever encountered. Asking me why I'm happy today isn't the same as calling me an imposter for not being depressed 24/7. Telling me I need to be slapped and get over my grief...well that's just wrong. And I won't go into what he said...or he said. It hurts...and probably always will. I don't forget...
Don't read this if you don't want to. Don't talk to me/write to me if you don't want to. Don't pretend to be my friend if you don't like me. Just stay away. I'll stay away from you. I don't go where I'm not wanted. And I've been told enough to know where I'm not wanted. I guess silence says the same. When you see someone everyday and they don't even acknowledge that you exist. When do you let go? A month, a year, 2 years? Sometimes it's hard to let go...even when they've been out of your life for longer than they were in it. My feelings don't disappear. I don't stop loving. And if you really want me to leave you alone...you'll have to say it. I respect boundaries. I don't like people to get too close, myself.
I can't stop feeling. But I don't have to watch it. I'm so tired of watching. I don't want to fall in love again and I don't want to have to get past it again. That pain is horrendous. I can't stop loving. But I don't want to be with "him" anymore. Not that way. A friend? Could we be? And maybe, maybe there is someone who feels something special for me. He is special...does he know? I'm afraid. Of what can be...but more afraid that I'll lose it all. That I'll mess it up. It's never all one person's fault...but I tend to blame myself for everything. Always. I don't like to hurt anyone. And I feel their pain regardless. So I'm not really evil, right?
I find so much joy in being around children. I know it's a pure love and I know I have it in me to be a good mother. There will be obstacles -- physical and mental, but I am so determined and I know I would do everything I could to make it work. On my own, alone. I will not let what he said, what they agreed, be truth. I'm better than this. I can be better. I have good role models for it. I know it's possible. God, I really know it's possible. Can you see it? Can you see me? There.
I'm tired. I'm done. Is it out now? Enough out so that I can go take a shower and eat...and sleep? Can I maybe sleep tonight? Well, if not, I just don't want to feel the screaming inside tonight. I don't want to hurt myself...I hold on so tightly to control. It's why people hate me -- the control, the stubborness, the defensive attitude. I can be bossy when I'm in charge. I can be many things. I am many things. I have hurt people...and there are some I wish I could hurt more. I've been jealous and envious and complained. I've whined and cried and said not so nice things. Maybe not mean compared to others, to most, but mean enough for me. I am a genuinely nice person. That's who I am most of the time. But there are days...or maybe just hours, where I just can't be nice. Where everything irritates me and I run out of patience. Where I feel misuderstood and attacked. I just can't keep quiet anymore. I don't regret that, I don't regret becoming a person who stands up for themselves. I don't regret standing up for others when they're being treated badly. I've lost a lot for both of those reasons. But I gained myself. I like that part of me. I am strong.
Maybe I'm too strong. Maybe I'm too much of some things and not enough of others. Ok. I agree. I hate the bad side of me too. But the difference is, you can walk away. For a day, for a lifetime. You can walk away. I can't. I'm stuck with me, my choices, my thoughts. You can give me advice...but are you willing to take the responsibility for my actions? Of course not. You'll say, well, it was your choice, you didn't have to do what I said. Or maybe I did it the wrong way. Maybe I'm always wrong. And you can walk away. If I destroy my life, if I destroy relationships, get fired for something someone else suggested I do, they won't get in trouble for it...they can walk away. It was my choice. I don't give advice. I don't want to be responsible for how someone else lives their life. Freedom. Choices.
You don't have to understand. You don't have to accept. No one does. And I know that the world, humanity, would be better off without me. Lots of people are living happier lives because I'm no longer in it. They forget. It's easy. Some remember...and they come back for another punch. I left you alone...why do you have to hurt me? But maybe they apologize. Well, I can't be the good girl all the time. Sometimes I can't forgive. Sometimes the pain is bigger than the apology. And if you've already proven that you view me in a certain way, that you'll treat me a certain way in this situation...I can't trust you. I would be stupid to trust someone who hurt me or abandoned me. Or believe that I'm...well, all those things he said.
I'm not talking about anyone. This is my blog, so it's about me...it's words coming out of me, from my heart and head. It's the world as I know it, situations as I see them. Skewed maybe, one-sided maybe. And maybe I actually do have people who have seen what I've seen, the way I've seen it - strangers even -...and so I'm not wrong. They're not just telling me nice things to be fake. They mean it, they believe it. I'm not crazy. I'm not evil. I'm just me. Many things. You can walk away. Be grateful for that. And live your life. I'm just trying to live mine. That's all. I'm just trying when I can. Just let me be. Let me erase, delete, start over, continue. It's my life, my page. Why can't I? Don't you? Whoever you are...whoever. I'm tired now. Just words. Don't give me words if you aren't going to back them up. You know I will. You know I will.
Maybe I can sleep. I'm just tired.
What am I really? What do YOU see when you look at me, when you listen to me speak, when you read what I write? Who am I in your mind? Do you see a pretty face...or do you see ugliness? Do you think of a "good girl" when you hear my name...or a poisonous one? Do you remember the things I did for you out of kindness...or the things I said out of anger? Or sadness or pain. Does an apology and an explanation make things better...or does it just make me pathetic? Do you see me...or the monster? Aren't we one in the same?
Some people see both. One one day, the other another day. They switch back and forth...or treat me as a good human at first, then treat me like a bug on the bottom of their shoe. I'm worthless, unwanted, a mistake, a failure. Boring, manipulative, flawed, a lost cause, weak, sad, bad bad bad. Is that me? Or am I the other things: honest, kind, loving, supportive, encouraging, beautiful, strong. I'm a lot of things...and I'm very few things. Just depends on the perspective. Mine too.
"I don't wanna hear you sssssssay it..."
"Save your breath, I know the story, I've heard it all before..."
"I don't care if you wait before you tear me apart. Look me in the eye...and lie lie lie lie."
When you've been told something enough times, you start to believe it. Even if you know it's not true, even if you talked yourself out of it before. THEY all believe it...so it must be true, right? I can look in the mirror and see what they were making fun of...so that's true..? I can reread my words and see what they got mad at...so that's true..? I know who I am. I know all the flaws and issues and failures and mistakes and bad points. No one has to tell me about myself. No one has to make a list, a public list, of all the things wrong with me. No one has to tell me why I'm not farther ahead in my life. Or the traits that make me unattractive. No one has to tell me that if I wasn't so quiet in school I could have been popular...or that if I wasn't so quiet my whole entire life, maybe I'd have more friends or be married. No one has to tell me why no man will ever want me or want to have kids with me. You don't think all those thoughts haven't gone through my head already? Maybe I shouldn't say certain things or maybe I should say other things. Maybe I should hide the bad and only show the good. Who cares if it eats away at me until I die? At least I would be what everyone wants. Give into the guilt and move back to that city...I'll be around family...doesn't matter if it kills me, if I have to live with the never-ending anxiety again. I'll be doing what they think I should. Drive hours and hours to a concert alone while I'm sick and have no money? Ok, that will prove my worthiness...and if I die in that neighborhood or get hurt or pass out on the road...well, at least I did what I was supposed to do.
I'm mean, nasty. A bad friend, a horrid person. I'm the monster.
I have anger inside of me. That's from holding emotions in for 30 years. That's from keeping a constant game face on and pretending that I was ok when I wasn't. Stopping myself from passing out, from throwing up when I was sick. Smiling, smiling. Except my eyes. But who cares. If you don't want to see, you won't.
I'm the one who's supposed to keep everything together. Give, help, assist, do everything just right. Keep doing and doing until I fall. Get up and keep doing and doing until I break. Cry quietly and shake...then pull it together and keep doing. And doing. Working hard...while appearing lazy. Being strong...while appearing weak. I'm tired of falling. I'm tired of the slaps...of being kicked down. Look at her there, on the floor. I'm better than her...I'm bigger than her. She can't do anything. That's how I feel...when they say the words, when they look at me that way. I can't even tell you who...it's just my life. It's always been my life. People have hurt me, they've wanted to. I have records...so I'm not making it up. Diaries since I was a kid. Maybe no one will understand the words but me. But I lived it. I lived through it. And so many times wish I didn't. Wondered why I didn't drown. Why...why didn't the darkness take me. Why didn't I have the strength and courage to finally, fatally, fix myself. I was weak then. I'm not now. But I'm not stupid either. So why should I take your advice [speaking to the world]? Why yours and not his? Why hers and not my own? Who knows best? Who has the better answer? If I say I don't want answers, I don't want that kind of help...can you respect it? Can you just be there and listen? Say something encouraging, say you believe in me...even if you disagree with me. Do you know how much goes unsaid? I don't like to hurt anyone. I keep so much to myself. Other people's secrets. My own thoughts. Things come out...things that need to and things that should stay hidden. But I don't say things to hurt. I say what I feel or think at the time. And yes, I will fight like a wounded animal if I feel attacked. I will fight like a protective mother bear if anyone I care about is being hurt. That's who I am. Look at me and see it.
I ask no one to like me. I ask no one to agree with me or share my beliefs. I have my own way of doing things -- in my life. If you cross over into my daily life, then I may want the relationship to be a certain way. I may want you to do certain things to make me feel secure, to show me that you care and that I can trust you. But I won't tell you what to believe or how to live your life. If you want help or advice, if you ask for it, I'll do my best to give you what you need. I'll go out of my way to show you how much I care. And if you don't know...ask me to explain. If I don't make sense, ask me to explain. If I get stubborn and start to argue, try to understand why...argue back if you have to. Just talk to me. Just be real.
Honesty doesn't mean cruelty. Telling someone a certain outfit doesn't flatter their figure or complexion isn't the same as calling someone a fat ugly slob. Asking me why I'm sad today isn't the same as telling me that I'm the most negative person you ever encountered. Asking me why I'm happy today isn't the same as calling me an imposter for not being depressed 24/7. Telling me I need to be slapped and get over my grief...well that's just wrong. And I won't go into what he said...or he said. It hurts...and probably always will. I don't forget...
Don't read this if you don't want to. Don't talk to me/write to me if you don't want to. Don't pretend to be my friend if you don't like me. Just stay away. I'll stay away from you. I don't go where I'm not wanted. And I've been told enough to know where I'm not wanted. I guess silence says the same. When you see someone everyday and they don't even acknowledge that you exist. When do you let go? A month, a year, 2 years? Sometimes it's hard to let go...even when they've been out of your life for longer than they were in it. My feelings don't disappear. I don't stop loving. And if you really want me to leave you alone...you'll have to say it. I respect boundaries. I don't like people to get too close, myself.
I can't stop feeling. But I don't have to watch it. I'm so tired of watching. I don't want to fall in love again and I don't want to have to get past it again. That pain is horrendous. I can't stop loving. But I don't want to be with "him" anymore. Not that way. A friend? Could we be? And maybe, maybe there is someone who feels something special for me. He is special...does he know? I'm afraid. Of what can be...but more afraid that I'll lose it all. That I'll mess it up. It's never all one person's fault...but I tend to blame myself for everything. Always. I don't like to hurt anyone. And I feel their pain regardless. So I'm not really evil, right?
I find so much joy in being around children. I know it's a pure love and I know I have it in me to be a good mother. There will be obstacles -- physical and mental, but I am so determined and I know I would do everything I could to make it work. On my own, alone. I will not let what he said, what they agreed, be truth. I'm better than this. I can be better. I have good role models for it. I know it's possible. God, I really know it's possible. Can you see it? Can you see me? There.
I'm tired. I'm done. Is it out now? Enough out so that I can go take a shower and eat...and sleep? Can I maybe sleep tonight? Well, if not, I just don't want to feel the screaming inside tonight. I don't want to hurt myself...I hold on so tightly to control. It's why people hate me -- the control, the stubborness, the defensive attitude. I can be bossy when I'm in charge. I can be many things. I am many things. I have hurt people...and there are some I wish I could hurt more. I've been jealous and envious and complained. I've whined and cried and said not so nice things. Maybe not mean compared to others, to most, but mean enough for me. I am a genuinely nice person. That's who I am most of the time. But there are days...or maybe just hours, where I just can't be nice. Where everything irritates me and I run out of patience. Where I feel misuderstood and attacked. I just can't keep quiet anymore. I don't regret that, I don't regret becoming a person who stands up for themselves. I don't regret standing up for others when they're being treated badly. I've lost a lot for both of those reasons. But I gained myself. I like that part of me. I am strong.
Maybe I'm too strong. Maybe I'm too much of some things and not enough of others. Ok. I agree. I hate the bad side of me too. But the difference is, you can walk away. For a day, for a lifetime. You can walk away. I can't. I'm stuck with me, my choices, my thoughts. You can give me advice...but are you willing to take the responsibility for my actions? Of course not. You'll say, well, it was your choice, you didn't have to do what I said. Or maybe I did it the wrong way. Maybe I'm always wrong. And you can walk away. If I destroy my life, if I destroy relationships, get fired for something someone else suggested I do, they won't get in trouble for it...they can walk away. It was my choice. I don't give advice. I don't want to be responsible for how someone else lives their life. Freedom. Choices.
You don't have to understand. You don't have to accept. No one does. And I know that the world, humanity, would be better off without me. Lots of people are living happier lives because I'm no longer in it. They forget. It's easy. Some remember...and they come back for another punch. I left you alone...why do you have to hurt me? But maybe they apologize. Well, I can't be the good girl all the time. Sometimes I can't forgive. Sometimes the pain is bigger than the apology. And if you've already proven that you view me in a certain way, that you'll treat me a certain way in this situation...I can't trust you. I would be stupid to trust someone who hurt me or abandoned me. Or believe that I'm...well, all those things he said.
I'm not talking about anyone. This is my blog, so it's about me...it's words coming out of me, from my heart and head. It's the world as I know it, situations as I see them. Skewed maybe, one-sided maybe. And maybe I actually do have people who have seen what I've seen, the way I've seen it - strangers even -...and so I'm not wrong. They're not just telling me nice things to be fake. They mean it, they believe it. I'm not crazy. I'm not evil. I'm just me. Many things. You can walk away. Be grateful for that. And live your life. I'm just trying to live mine. That's all. I'm just trying when I can. Just let me be. Let me erase, delete, start over, continue. It's my life, my page. Why can't I? Don't you? Whoever you are...whoever. I'm tired now. Just words. Don't give me words if you aren't going to back them up. You know I will. You know I will.
Maybe I can sleep. I'm just tired.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Let it be said...
I am grateful for the things I have, the gifts I have been given, the people in my life. At times I am moody, demanding, needy, stubborn, and controlling. I may ask for more than others are able to give or expect more than I have a right to. I can be overbearing, dramatic, paranoid, and persistent. I often feel alone and like no one notices or cares. I know consciously that it is not true, but when the depression takes control, I can't see it or feel it. The pain and hopelessness blocks it. I am sorry if I appear ungrateful...but I truly am. When I come out of it and the fog lifts and my vision is clear, I see all of you. Protecting me, holding me, guiding me. When you hold out your hand to me or offer your ear, it means so much. If I don't take it, that doesn't mean I don't want or need it, just that I have to face it alone or I'm afraid or not ready. Or simply that the gesture healed my wounds and gave me all the strength I needed. Loyalty and acceptance are very valuable to me and make me feel safe. That's all I need. So don't feel like you don't give enough just because I'm lost. If I know you're looking for me, waiting for me, it helps me find my way back home.
Facebook note by Nicole McMillan on Friday, March 11, 2011 at 4:16am.
Facebook note by Nicole McMillan on Friday, March 11, 2011 at 4:16am.
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