Today is my 28th birthday. I woke up this morning feeling a little older than before. Not much though.


Cliff wished me a Happy Birthday last night wanting to be the first one. I told him that he was too late because my niece Tiana and my friend Lorrie had wished me one on Facebook. He laughed and said, "Well, first in person."


Then he had me turn around, and he put a necklace that he had our friend Boykin make. It looks awesome. It's made to look like chain mail. It's blue and purple. The center of it is a silver pentacle, but it looks like a flower.


He helped me with Kiara this morning so I could get dressed. I took her daycare then went on to the school so I could do my student teaching.My teacher gave me a candle and a candy bar. The day went on, and we got through it.Cliff and I went to pick up Kiara together. He dropped me off at the house, and took Kiara with him to go get Andrew.


When he got home, we got dressed and went to Chili's where my mom, Boykin and Kortnie were waiting for us. My mom gave me a birthday card. We had a good dinner.


We came home after dinner to relax and wind down. Kortnie and Boykin came over to do their laundry. I was laying in my bedroom, and I heard Cliff tell me to come here. I walked into the dining room, and there was a birthday cake for me. They sang Happy Birthday, and I made my wish. Kortnie and Boykin got me a mad hatter wallet, and a mad hatter ink pen.This was one of the best birthdays ever.

It all starts TOMORROW

I have been going to college to become a high school English teacher. I have been doing observation hours in the past semesters. But tomorrow starts a new chapter and new adventure. I report to the high school I was assigned to for orientation. I meet the principal and the teacher that I have for the first session.


I have been assigned to a teacher that teaches sophomore and junior English. Part of me is excited then there is that small part of me that is scared. Will I be able to do it? Will I be able to get up there in front of those kids, and teach them the knowledge that they need to succeed?


I guess all I can do is hope for the best and try to have faith in myself. Tomorrow starts a brand new adventure so head held high and let the fun begin.

The Secret of My Heart

Alone I run along the road of the unknown
Then my eyes were laid upon you.
No one told me I was going to find you.

In my trembling heart, I knew
The past I left behindCrossed to
The future to find you.

I’ll never forget that first glance
You gave me when we first met.
We were strangers

Starting out on separate journeys
Never dreaming what we’d go through
But the path always leading back to you.

From the secret kiss of that day,
Unexpected what you did to my heart.
I knew
That our destinies had been tied

Every night alone in my room
Crying and fearing
You rescued me

Reminding me that you’d be there
When the world stopped turning.
And when the storm was through,
There you’d be standing with me.

Regardless of your warnings
I would walk on water to
Prove I love you
Maybe it’s that simple.

I wish to see you again
Grasping the love we finally attained
Drawn to each other in the Garden of Time

Now the secrets bared
The feelings show
Walk on water for me.

Family Vacation (July 31, 2010 - August 3, 2010)

We went on our first real family vacation since my grandma died in 2007. Every year we used to go to Port Aransas. After grandma died, I had Kiara and some us felt it was too hard to go back. Well this year we decided to go back. Kiara was old enough to have fun, and it was time for the past to be let go.

Aunt Janice, Uncle Curtis, my cousin Becca, my husband Cliff, Kiara and I all made a trip down to Port Aransas. As we got closer, I got more excited. We stayed at Gulf Shores and stayed in room 607. It was a very beautiful room with an amazing view. Kiara was so excited to see the ocean.

We spent our first night there swimming in the ocean and the hotel pool. The second day, I got an amazing picture of the sunrise. (See above photo) We had an early breakfast then went down to the ocean. I actually got brave enough and went out to where everyone was. It wasn't so bad. We went swimming in the pool afterwards. Kiara likes the kiddie pool because she can touch.

After we took showers and everything, Cliff took Kiara and me to The Texas State Aquarium in Corpus Christi. We had a lot of fun. Kiara liked looking at all the fish and sea life. They even had a porcupine and some exotic birds. The aquarium had a big playground for the kids to play on while the adults relaxed. Kiara did that while Cliff sat down. I chased after her. It was too big to keep a constant eye on. After the playground, we went to watch the dolphins. Their names were DJ, Shadow and Kai. We loved them.

We left the aquarium and went back to the hotel. Everyone had gone swimming but they left dinner for us. I took a pain pill for my back then went to sleep. Our third day there, there were jelly fish in the ocean so I didn't go out. I sat in the rec. room and watched tv. We had to wait to go in the pool because it was still early. I stayed up in the room and played on my game while everyone went to go swim.

After lunch, we went to town to go souvenier shopping. My mom and I found some little packs of shells to decorate a mirror with. I found a sign for my living room that says: IF YOU'RE NOT BAREFOOT, YOU'RE OVERDRESSED. I think thats really appropriate for this house. Cliff bought me some glow in the dark windchimes.

We went back to the hotel after that. We didn't really do much. Everyone kind of took naps before dinner. We had tostadas for dinner. Then we went to the ocean. I waded out a little until I saw a jellyfish and came back in. Kiara and I went to the pool to enjoy swimming. I even got to enjoy the hot tub.

Our last day, we packed and headed home. We only stopped for gas, bathroom breaks and lunch. We made it home around 6 or 7. Just looking at all the unpacking was overwhelming. But it had to be done. We had a good time though.

PlayHouse Disney and Nick Jr.

I have a two year old daughter. She likes the shows on Playhouse Disney and Nick Jr. While I appreciate what these shows teach our children, as an adult I feel like I'm losing my brain cells. So don't watch them you might say to me. Well my daughter likes to sit next to me and bugs me until I turn the shows on.

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Handy Manny are probably my favorites. My daughter just loves Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Dora the Explorer and Go Diego Go. Because of the last two shows, she repeats the Spanish they use in their programming. She's learned a lot from these shows.

What makes me feel like I'm losing brain cells is when they where something is or something like that. I'm just staring at the tv like "Duh" it's right there. The shows that really get to me is Wonder Pets and Yo Gabba Gabba. The song the Wonder Pets sing when they leave on a mission makes me want to blow my brains out. Some of their adventures aren't so but on this one episode of Wonder Pets, they had to go rescue a puppy because it needed to go outside and potty. The end of the episode all of them are in different spots of the yard pottying. I think it was a little dumb. And Yo Gabba Gabba, please tell me what those people were smoking when they came up with that show. I mean really. Those are the creepiest things I have ever seen. What about Max and Ruby? Where are their parents? Seriously, I have never seen their parents. They live by themselves while their grandmother comes to check on them ever so often. My 2 year old has looked at me and asked me about their mommy and daddy.

I normally don't care about these, but I've had very little sleep. My two year kept me up all night and is still going. She wants to watch these shows so I gave in. But with little sleep, they seem almost annoying to me.

I'm done.

Diary of a Self-Mutilator (Very Long)

LJ Smith wrote a trilogy called The Forbidden Game. In all three books, the phrase "I am my only master" appears several times throughout the story. I never quite understood that phrase or thought there was any truth in it either. Everyone, in their own way, caters to the ideals and norms of society. We are slaves to what society dictates. I used to believe that, but that was a different time and life. I was nothing then. Not even human.

I was an empty bag of flesh with no soul, a walking corpse, a dream gone wrong. My depression had numbed me to the core. I felt nothing. The times I did feel something, I hated the fact that I was unable to control it. I yearned for the control of myself, of my feelings. I was on anti-depressants and none of them helped. I just put on a show so people would leave me alone about it.

I was a good student and heavily involved in JROTC. I had friends that I was very close to. I had a very loving boyfriend. So what the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn't I get control of my body, my mind and everything else that consumed me? I was 16 years old and confused. Freedom to think for oneself and wanting independence was a big deal then, but one still had the underlying need to cater to society. I was defiant and a little too free spirited for all that nonsense and it caused a lot of problems between my parents and e. They thought I should bow down to the every day normal aspects of the world. My family has the problem of saying things that shouldn't be said ever or are only said when anger is the dominating emotion.

The lack of control over my emotions drove me into darkness. It was an abyss of anger, sadness, all the negative emotions one could feel. There was no warning when they would surface, but it was heart wrenching when they did. It was unbearable, and I wanted to control them so I wouldn't have to feel that way whenever the occassion arose.

I remember the night I found my control. My dad and I had one of our famous heated arguments on my behavior. I was having trouble in my math class, and my dad decided that I was stupid and worthless. I was spending too much time with my boyfriend than I did studying so that, of course, meant we were having sex. He would not have a whore for a daughter. I felt the anger rise within me My room was no comfort. This place I had called home for 11 years of my life gave me no solace. Holding in the anger was unbearable. I could not take it anymore. I'm not sure what demon had possessed me, but the scissors gleamed at me in the moonlight pouring through my window, and then I knew.

They taunted me, saying, "We can relieve the pain."

I bought into it. I did not know what really happened next. Darkness consumed me, and I saw nothing. When the light and reality returned, my arm was bleeding. I had jagged cuts on my forearm. Grasping what had happened was not an option. Seeing the blood relieved me. I was alive. I had blood coursing in my veins. I was human. Holding my arm, touching the blood, I felt the pain seep from my being. It wasn't the usual heart wrenching unbearable ache. There was control in it, and I had the power.

I did this for years. I carried a small blade with me everywhere I went. If something bad happened, and the emotions were too intense to deal with, I would hide. I would black out, but when I came back to reality, I would see the marks. I had played ore slice and dice on my skin. I was good at hiding it. I would do it high up on my arms or somewhere where clothing would cover. If the marks could be seen, they were easily passed off for cat scratches because everyone knew what a mean cat Shadow was. My parents never really noticed because I would be leaving for work by the time they were getting hoe fro work, and going to bed when I was getting home from my job.

In 2002, the guy I was seeing at the time decided to join the navy. We both knew how hard the separation would be. We decided to just be friends from the point on out and even that was unbearable. I was so in love with him and wanted him. Hearing him say, "I think friendship would be a better option for us since I'll be gone," was very heart breaking. I went numb standing there in front of him. I had to keep my brave face on so he wouldn't feel worse than he already did. A part of me wanted to protect him from the world so his decision nearly killed me.

I had gone home knowing that I was going to break. Somewhere down the ling, I had lost my ability to cry. We lived right in front of an elementary school, and I knew I would have some privacy there. Alcohol and nicotine gave me no comfort. In my mind, that had left me one option. The tiny blade in my pocket. It shimmered in the moonlight as I removed it from my pocket. My eyes just stared at it as I placed it against my forearm.

Something in me started telling me, "No, not there. Too noticeable."

I stopped at that moment when I really thought about it. At that point, I didn't care who saw. He had left. Why cry to my parents about something that shall pass in their minds? It hurt more than words could describe. What happened next, I don't know. My ankles were cut up. No one would see. I wore jeans and long skirts all the time. Nothing short.

I had made a friend at the JROTC leadership school back in 1999. Kevin lived in Del Rio. We kept in touch through email, letters and phone calls. There were times that he had to talk me out of doing things to myself. It became easier when he was at college at Angelo State University. He use to cut classes and come visit me because I had called him the previous evening crying. Sometimes I wondered if it ever effected him more than he let on. How could my actions affect someone else when it was my skin that I was cutting?

***

I had put myself into therapy. The therapist turned out to be a real waste of time and money. He was anything but professional. He called the cutting a silent addiction, but I had made it into an obsession. He was an idiot. I don't think he ever really listened to me during our sessions.

Every so often he would look up from his writing pad or laptop and inquire, "How does that make you feel? How does that statement make you react?"

If he was truly listening, he would've known the answers to those questions. He didn't have to ask me those. I threw him off once with a blatant comment about his tie. I had been watching mafia movies and seen something about what they had called an Italian necktie. I just couldn't help myself. I told him his ties were ugly.

"Well this is a new tie. You don't like my tie?"

I stood up, walked half way closer to him and took a look. "You know what would look really good on you? An Italian necktie."

His eyebrow rose, "What is an Italian necktie?"

"An Italian necktie is where they rip out your esophagus and hang you by it."

He then realized that I had made him look like a jerk. I had called him out on his not listening to me during our sessions. I would never go back to him. I would solve my problems on my own. I would beat my silent addiction on my own.

***

The slice and dice play on my skin stopped for a little while when I started dating Thomas. He made me happy and kept a very close eye on me. We had arguments like normal couples do, but our parents made the situation worse. They wanted us to break up. I started cutting again, but these were severe. It had started up again worse than ever. I got to the point of not caring who saw them. I tore up my skin with whatever I could find. Coke cans, razors, scissors, nail files, it didn't matter. If it could cut, it was useable. They served their purpose well though. They relieved pain and showed me that I was alive.

Thomas' mother died of a brain aneurism in 2003. He changed after that and pushed everyone away. He found comfort in another girl's bed. My heart broke because how much I had devoted to this man. I was so angry and hurt, but I would not show my pain. I would not show weakness and let him have the satisfaction of knowing that he had hurt me. I would not cry because crying was for the weak! I spent the summer in bandages and nearly committed myself to the hospital in Big Springs.

Tom was the boyfriend after that. 3 years of my life wasted. 3 years of mental and emotional abuse. Never ending hell! Never ending cutting and pain. I couldn't make myself leave him when I knew I should. Thank god, he did.

Mikey was my best friend and showed up after it happened. Told me to come with him. I went and spent a month with him. We'd go to work and meet back up at his house afterwards to shoot pool and do whatever. I went with him to Lubbock to move him into his dorm.

That time away from the stress of home and such gave me time to clear my head. The urge to cut had died away, and I liked the way it felt not to have the addiction hanging over my head. Mikey went back to school and I was left here. I had my friends to watch over me.

***

I was surfing Myspace one night, and thats how I met my husband Cliff. I had sent him a message and we got to talking. We mainly talked about our hobbies and family. It finally occurred to me that it was 6 in the morning. I asked him wasn't it too early for him to be up. He told me that he worked nights at the prison. I couldn't imagine working there. I'd be too scared. We agreed to call it a morning and get some sleep.

He stopped me from signing off and asked what I did for a living. I told him that I worked at Rick and Carolyn's, and that I had to work the evening shift that night. We said goodnight and I took a nap. I went to work, and it seemed that it was going to be another busy Friday night.

I was stocking the napkins and listening to customers come in. One of my coworkers came over to me, and told me that there was this guy staring at me. I didn't believe her so I walked back over behind the counter and went to taking orders. Up walked Cliff.

I didn't look up right away. "Welcome to Rick and Carolyn's. How may I help. . .?" I had gone silent when I saw that it was him.

We talked for a bit then took his orders when business picked up. We agreed to hang out that night at his house. We sat up all night talking and listening to music.

"Tell me something no one else knows."

"Like what? I don't really have secrets."

He kind of looked towards the scars on my arms. "Can I ask how you got those?"

I went ahead and told him the story of how the cutting began and how the need to do it was slowly disappearing out of my life. Cliff wrapped his arms around me, kissed my cheek and told me, "That part of your life is over now. You'll never feel that way again as long as I still have a breath left in my body. If you ever do feel that way, I want you to talk to me about it first. If after we talk, you still feel that way then I will let you do it, but you have to do it front of me."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing but throughout our relationship when I got that urge, the rule applied. I've never done it since. Cliff has been my strength and whenever he knew I needed it, he would break me down so I would cry and let it out. I learned that it was okay to cry, and I overcame the addiction of cutting. I beat something that no one really thought I would beat. I'm glad I beat it to. I finally realized that I hadn't of stopped, I'd probably be dead. I would've never made it to where I am now without Cliff showing me the way to recovery. He knew where I was coming from on some level.

Now I have a loving husband, a pretty little girl and four step-kids that keep me on my toes. I love that I was able to understand and overcome something that I thought I would never defeat. I beat the addiction. I don't have to conform to make people happy. I am me. I am my only master.

Now one might wonder why would I post this? Why would I write something so revealing and such? I did this because when this was happening to me, I was alone and thought no one in the world would get it. But as I have gone through life, I have met others who have had the same problem. It's nice to know that I'm not some freak with a problem. So for those who have this problem, you are not not alone.

Introduction

I decided to start this because I wanted somewhere besides Myspace, CafeMom and my computer to post my thoughts. While there's nothing wrong with those, its not the same for some reason. I really don't know how to explain it.

I go by my nickname "Willow" more than I do my real name. I'm not sure how the name was given but it stuck. Maybe it's because I'm like the character Willow on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Not the lesbian part, but the going from geek to strong young woman by traveling life's bumpy road.

I was lucky to find my soul-mate in this life. It was sad that it took us so long to find each other again, but we did. I am a mother to the most beautiful little girl. I am a step-mother to 4 children (3 boys and a girl). Like every woman, I am a daughter. I have a wonderful circle of friends that I see as family. I found that my career path was that of a high school English teacher. My passion is British literature.

I'm hoping by having this blog, that I'll have an easier time with expressing myself more. I think of this as having a healthy outlet for all the thoughts and emotions running wild inside my head.