30 Days

= tidal

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I think it’s time to go paleo again. Any and all moral support is welcome… along with delicious recipes ya’ll might have.

Filed under paleo healthy help

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Oh haters, how I love you so. Go on, tell me more about how I’m a failure, a nobody, a selfish bitch, a quitter. Keep on doubting me, judging me and telling me I don’t know anything about real pain. It really gives me a deep sense of satisfaction to know how wrong you are.

Tell me, what part of playing varsity sports throughout high school with busted menisci and a torn labrum screams wimp? How about playing three years of college ultimate and three years of club ultimate on two partially torn ACLs?

Remember that time I got into UCSD and made the dean’s list every quarter? I think the words you’re looking for are Cum Laude.

What about that time I joined the Army to put myself through school so my parents wouldn’t have to? Oh, you think I gave up on school for fun? Or because I couldn’t hack it? Let me tell you about fun and hacking it, dear friends. 12 mile ruck marches with a full 80lb pack while wearing +45lbs of gear were for fun. Sleepless nights and smoke sessions until the walls sweat were the norm, as were 5AM runs in a t-shirt, shorts, 30 degree weather and snow. How about earning the titles of Soldier Leader of the Cycle in Basic and Distinguished Honor Graduate in AIT. Last I checked, I still hold the record for highest GPA in ALL of Ft. Leonard Wood’s CBRN schools.

You think you know about pain? Bitches, please. Let me tell you about pain. Pain is missing TWO of your friends’ funerals because you were on the other side of the continent training to fight for your country. Pain is having to tell your battle buddy that you told the drill sergeants about her frostbitten toes. Pain is the look of betrayal on her face when she realizes that not only will she most likely be medically discharged, but she just suffered through 9 weeks of hell for nothing. Pain is leaving behind terminally ill family for 20 weeks so you can train for a job that will help pay the bills.

So go on. Hate on me. Feel smug about how superior you are to me, because it’s going to reaaaaally keep me up at night.


Filed under haters to the left personal rant

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I stared at a blank page with no idea where to start.
So many words, thoughts and searing emotions
swirling in my head, clashing together,
trying to break out.

Then all the memories came flooding back,
too intense to describe.
Memories of flashing red and blue lights,
and the incessant ringing of my phone.
Memories of everyone in black.
One time, two times, three times, four times.
Memories of thousand yard stares in the faces of those too young.
Too young to never again see their loved one.

Memories of seeing my own reflection in the bottom of a glass.
Filling it up again so I wouldn’t have to look anymore,
think anymore,
feel anymore.

Memories of the bottles that took the place of the glass.
I’d rather sit in its orange reflection,
with all the false, colorful lights it brought,
than face the dark again.

But, in those moments of stupor,
I found myself not alone.
All around were pockets of suffocating darkness,
each radiating its own pain, sadness and anger.
Somehow, those pockets found one another
despite being blinded by their own darkness.
Pockets that banded together,
and clung tightly to each other
for fear of being forever lost.

But, it wasn’t until our large mass formed,
that little laughs and fleeting smiles were coaxed out.
It was there in the huddled black
that we slowly remembered how to open our eyes
and take in the light.
Bright light stung and burned our unaccustomed eyes,
eyes that had all but forgotten what anything
but the dark looked like.

Someday, our eyes will adjust,
we’ll warm our bodies in the sun,
but we will not be whole.
A piece of us was forever lost to the dark.
Days will come when that piece
will wrench us away
and force our eyes back shut,
but waiting for us will be the pieces of others
that will help us see again.

Filed under life death hope grief poetry