As Writers, We Lay Our Hearts Open

Trail of Glitter

Facebook status update: Any day is a good day when you leave your therapist’s office and don’t want to cut yourself.

Yes, that was my status update today. One of them, anyway. I’m a teeny bit of a Facebook Whore. It’s where my words started flowing, so stuff it if you don’t like it.

If you’ve spent any time at all reading my blog, you know that I’m an open book. I lay my heart open quite easily. Without trepidation. It mortifies my mother and other family members. That’s okay though. I say the things that many are thinking. Beware of the fearless woman with a potty mouth.

After I posted, a dear friend and fellow writer sent me a private message. Seems she was concerned about my comment and wanted to check in on me. I assured her that all was well. I’m happy, today. I can’t promise that I will be tomorrow. It’s kind of a crap shoot with me. If you think I like being this moody, I don’t. It’s who I am though.

Back to the correspondence between my friend and me:

Oh honey, it was supposed to be funny. I promise, I’m okay. I have bouts of depression and euphoria. Borderline personality disorder, anxiety and panic disorder, ADHD and a host of other issues. I’m also a sexual abuse survivor.

Today is a good day though. Life is good and there is a smile on my face. I would not trade what I’ve been through, but I don’t wish it on others.

I’m a funny woman, with a dark side. I need incredible amounts of validation too. I couldn’t write well if I didn’t have my darkness. Everyone sees a happy and sunny woman when they look at me. Little do they know there’s so much more to me than what’s on the surface……

Thank you for your message my friend. Thank you for your friendship. I want you to know if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you too.

Always, Renee
The not always sparkly girl

As writers, we lay our hearts open. As our readers, you follow us to some places we wouldn’t even let a lover go. I’ve no idea why, but I think it’s what God wants me to do. Break myself open, and bleed all over the place. I figure somebody has to do it, it might as well be me.

Sparkle on my sweet friends. Sparkle on.

Keep Calm and Carry On??? No Fucking Thanks!!!

I saw this picture and thought of you! I read this as a sign to rebel against the “norms” and live the way you want because one person can change the world, or at least one person’s world. And you’re changing people’s lives every single day by being exactly who you are and not apologizing for it.-RWR reader

I received this in a private message last night after I posted my latest entry called I Don’t Chase After Anyone Anymore. I have to say that it must have struck a nerve with a lot of people because I received so many positive comments. Both public and private. I’m overwhelmed by my reader’s message to me. I’ve said before and I’ll say it again, I write the things that many people feel. I’m not afraid to say them though. I do this so that others don’t have to.

I oftentimes second guess myself and wonder if my words make a difference. Then I receive a message from a sweet young woman that is trying to find her way in this big bad world. The thing she doesn’t realize though I’m not so young anymore, I’m doing the same thing. I’m still trying to find my worth and my way. I’m trying to find where I fit in. How to leave my mark. What I can do to make this world a better place not only for me but for others.

With my young reader’s words and the sign she sent me, she made me realize that I have left my mark. I’ve left it in her heart. I’ve helped her realize that being “normal” is boring. That we must create our own normal. I hope I keep inspiring others along with myself. There’s still a lot of work to be done.

I read the message to Roger Darling last night and tears were streaming down my face. He asked me why I was crying. I told him because this is all I ever wanted to do. I wanted to inspire. He told me it wasn’t the first time I’d heard that I had changed someone by what I’d written. And it most certainly won’t be the last. Damn do I love that man.

I think my next post is going to be about a mind altering blow job, so watch out! Happy Sunday and Happy Veteran’s Day.


I Don’t Chase After Anyone Anymore

So this post has been kinda marinating in my brain for the last few weeks or so. I’ve struggled with it. Do I want to post it? Do I want to let it go? What should I do??? Today after talking to a dear friend I decided it was time to make a few remarks. First off, I’m a good person. Impulsive and a little crazy. But ultimately I’m good. Secondly, I know that in the last 20 months I’ve changed. Not physically, but mentally. I’ve developed an incredible passion for the written word too. It’s not just a “thing” that I do. It’s who I am.

I was talking to Super Therapist this week about an article in  the current issue of Reader’s Digest that I was reading while I waited for him to call me back for my appointment. The article was titled, Are You Normal or Nuts? I thought, why isn’t that an appropriate article to read while waiting to see my therapist? After reading it, I learned that those with anxiety disorder (I’ve had it for over 20 years) are compassionate. I had to agree. While being in the throes of daily panic attacks in my early 20’s I wished to die. They were horrible and I never thought I would get through them. Fortunately, I did. I’m 44 and by God’s good grace I’m still here. I have incredible empathy. I’m not saying I’m a fucking saint. I’m just saying I give a shit.

I also read that people with mild bi-polar disorder (yes, I have great mood swings) are more creative. They are the writers, the musicians, the dancers and the artists. Because of the incredible mood swings they feel more. Because they feel more they are creative and make those that they create for, well, feel. I’ve never been diagnosed  with even mild bi-polar disorder, but Super Therapist did agree that I do have mood swings. I am passionate and creative. He says that’s how I’m made and who I am.

I’ve lost a couple of good friends that I thought would be a part of my life forever. Because I’ve “changed”. I didn’t though. I evolved. Became who I was supposed to be. I was just hidden under fat. I’m very proud of myself. I won’t go chasing after anyone anymore. I care for those that aren’t in my life, but I can’t go back. I won’t. I know that I’m good. I make no apologies.

I’m STILL Looking for that Other Damn Street!!!!

Photo courtesy of Merrith Kujawa (Figured it was appropriate, because I’m usually so sparkly. Not feelin’ it lately though. So I leave you with this today.  Dealing with sadness, jealousy, PTSD, and a host of other issues. And yes, after 44 years I keep falling in that damn hole. I’m learning how to crawl out of it though. By God’s good grace, I am.)

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

 Chapter 1

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I am lost . . . I am helpless.

It isn’t my fault.

It takes forever to find a way out

Chapter 2

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don’t see it.

I fall in again.

I can’t believe I am in the same place.

But it isn’t my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter 3

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I see it is there.

I still fall in … it’s a habit.

My eyes are open.

I know where I am.

It is my fault.

I get out immediately.

Chapter 4

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

Chapter 5

I walk down another street.

~ Portia Nelson ~

(There’s a Hole in My Sidewalk)

I Think I’m Finally Spent

God Dammit, I’m exhausted-Lili von Shtupp

So after running around like a chicken with my head cut off for the last 18 months, I’m spent. Because of all of the changes in my life and the sedentary lifestyle I lived for 13 years, I’ve been running on overdrive and adrenaline. Don’t get me wrong it’s been fun for the most part, but I’ve become distracted, disoriented, and disorganized. This Sparkly Girl needs to disconnect and re-group. I’ve found something I’m good at and I’m extremely passionate about it. I’ve found writing. I never in a million years thought I was good at it. This all started from funny Facebook status updates. Serious status updates, lyrics and quotes. Inspirational shit too. Somewhere along the way, I got over-extended and tried to do too much. I’ve lost sight of family, friends and well, the rest of my life.

I need to slow down. But I want to write every damn day. 24/7 preferably. I don’t care if I get paid for it. I get new followers every day, so I must be doing something right. I’ve been told by friends and acquaintances that I’ve given them a voice. That I crawled into their heads and brought out their innermost thoughts. By putting myself out there, I’ve helped them sort out their shit. Unfortunately, I haven’t taken care of my own life. I’m going to take a few days off. I’m not going to post until next Monday, when I’m in West Virginia with my sister from another mister. Hopefully I won’t be chased by a huge ass snake while I’m there. I’m sure Tracy will be glad to take pictures of me running around, peeing on myself, and screaming like a girl. I know she and I will make great memories that I’ll want to share. I’m going to post some of her beautiful photography. She is a goddess behind the lense.

No worries, I will keep writing. On paper for now. As I’ve told K., it’s called longhand. Why I call it that, I’m not sure. Think it’s what my great-grandma called it back when I was a kid. I’ve got a book noodling around in this lovely blonde brain of mine. Some parts of it have already spilled out onto my blog. We’ll see what happens. Keep following me. Keep sending me pictures for stories. I think that’s my favorite. A lot of my readers send me their pics. They tell me a bit of their story and I create a story from it. I embellish of course. Add my own characters, my dreams, my wishes, my past. But it’s fun to go back to the person who sent it to me, and they tell me how close to the truth I get. I’ve even done it for one of my followers. I think that was the MOST fun!

So long for a few days. This demented Tinker Bell and blonde bombshell is going to sleep the sleep of the dead. When I get back, WATCH THE FUCK OUT! Giggle. Oh wait, Roger Darling is telling me to go clean the cat litter. AWESOME!

My Ode to Clark

Nobody is as good as me. And I’m as good as nobody.-Clark Gable (Not really, that’s just my subject’s sexy alias.)

I remember the first time I met Clark. I was in the middle of the mundane task of training for my new job at Petco. He walked into the breakroom, smiled and extended his hand to me. I shook it. His handshake was firm, honest, and real. I knew I liked him immediately. His dark brown hair, his eyes playful and his voice is very gentle. His story is a sad one, but it gets better as we go along.

See, he moved to Michigan for a girl. She helped save him. He was in the service and had a breakdown. He was honorably discharged. He followed his savior. To live with her, to love her. He had always struggled with depression, and anxiety. With feelings of worthlessness. Growing up his home life wasn’t easy. His father was evil. His mother weak, but she loved her son. Unfortunately things fell apart with the girl. Now what was he going to do? He wasn’t from here. Would he go home?

He drifted. Found a band to sing with. This dark haired, handsome quiet voiced man can scream a lyric that will make your knees buckle. He found Marlena and John too. The three of them are all displaced here in the state of Michigan. Marlena and John are from the West. Clark is from the East. Now the three of them are a family. They complete each other. Families are families. Doesn’t matter how they come to be. It just matters that they are. I’m proud of them.

Clark has changed so much in the year and a half since I first met him. He has gained confidence. Found his self worth. Realized that life is most certainly worth living. His short hair is now longer, darker. His face stubbly and his clothing a bit edgier. But his heart, his sense of humor, and his kindness are still very much the same. I hope soon he finds the woman of his dreams. She won’t be sorry to love a man as genuine as him.

On a personal note. I just want to say that if I hadn’t needed the second job, I wouldn’t have met such incredible people. I am so blessed to have them in my life.

The Kiss

Inspired a bit by Kyle Mew. (As I told him, I think the kiss, the kiss is my favorite.)

The Kiss

The beginning

In pain

In want

In need

In necessity

The Kiss

The breathless

The throb

The provocative

The tongue, the lips, the sultriness

If only, if only the Kiss goodbye was as marvelous as the Kiss hello

The definition of HAPPINESS. In my world it changes every day….

Today my definition of happiness is the fact that I’m wearing my new WONDER WOMAN t- shirt. Tomorrow it will be defined by something else. Someone else. That’s good. I like the fact that life is unpredictable. That happiness is unpredictable. That we define it in so many different ways. It may be the aroma of a flower, a shell from a beach, the words from a loved one.  Hell even a 2o cent sucker from my husband tickles me to pieces sometimes. It could be from the words of advice I give. Or the words of advice I get. It could be the simplest or the most complex of things, really.

I have a dear friend that is in the throes of one of the biggest struggles of her life. She’s trying to redefine her happiness. To redefine her life. But she keeps looking to others to find her way. Instead of finding it within herself. I keep telling her, find a way to make yourself content. Then you can make others in your life truly happy. As a person in recovery I know the importance of living life minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day. That’s what I’m trying to guide her to do. Find the good in the one minute, find it in the one hour. Find it in the one day. Because if you find it in those moments, it’ll eventually last forever……

So today I find happiness in my new Wonder Woman t-shirt and giving words of advice and love to my dear sweet friend who’s struggling. Tomorrow, who knows where I’ll find it. But I will. I know I will…..

My thoughts on anger…

Yes, I’m pissed off and most people irritate me. But if people weren’t so ignorant, self-absorbed, and downright stupid, I wouldn’t be so bitchy all the time.-Unknown

Okay so here it goes. I’ve been trying for months to write about my feelings on the whole sordid subject of love. And let me tell you it isn’t as easy as it would seem. I know I’m the sunshiny girl that can write all kinds of flowery shit about rainstorms, springtime, best friends, and children. I can also write sexy and sad stuff. And of course there’s the writing about things  that are super funny. But for love, I’m just stumped. I’m a girl that loves with all of her heart. Not very smartly sometimes, but I do my very best to love the right way. So why can’t I write about it? I’ve got more than one post residing in my draft file, because well, what I write is so damn whiny it makes me want to quite literally puke all over my computer! Sooooo I’ve decided to write about anger. Yes I know, it seems a strange subject for this glittery girl to write about, but hear me out. I think I’m going to tackle this in list form. I may elaborate or I may not. We’ll see how many times I can say the F word in one post….

I’m pissed that I can get so sad when life is really so damn good.

I’m pissed that my male friends think I have a penis and treat me like a dude. I’m all for a great dick joke and I laugh with the best of them. But come on I am a WOMAN, treat me like a delicate flower EVERY once in a damn while!

I’m pissed that I harbor my happiness on one person.

I’m pissed that I didn’t go to college.

I’m pissed that I don’t think I’m beautiful.

I’m pissed that people think I’m not shy. Because I really am. Just watch me blush.

I’m pissed that I’m pissed.

I’m pissed that Harry married Sally!

I’m pissed that I can’t write about love.

I’m pissed that I’m a stupid, sappy girl.

I’m pissed that my credit sucks and I have to work 2 jobs.

I’m pissed that I don’t live in Ann Arbor and I have to drive 70 miles round trip every fucking day. I LOVE Ann Arbor!

I’m pissed that I’m not 25 anymore.

I’m pissed that young people look at me like I’m old.

I’m pissed that I can’t walk away from a situation, even though it’s the best thing for me. And that I can’t back down.

I’m pissed that it seems like other’s lives are better than mine.

I’m pissed that I can’t write 24/7.

I’m pissed that as I write this I’m crying. GAH!

I’m pissed that I can’t eat like a normal person or I’ll get fat again.

I’m pissed that my best friend died of cancer and I don’t get to talk to her anymore. And bitch at her and tell her to get her ass home so I can hug her and have a big damn Pink Panty Dropper Drink with her.

I’m pissed that I’m a drunk and can’t get a good buzz on anymore.

I’m pissed that my friends will read this and not understand it.

I’m pissed that no one gets me!

I’m pissed that I can’t tell someone to fuck off and leave me alone and stop making me feel like my heart is going through a cheese grater.

I’m pissed that Roger Darling told me no more tattoos. Fucking A it’s my body. I want a gorgeous one that starts at the nape of my neck and goes all the way down the base of my spine to my ass. It’s broken hearts inspired by Sally from the Nightmare Before Christmas. They’re all sewn together just like her. Just like me…..

I’m pissed that I’m an incurable romantic. I’m pissed that I’m an optimistic pessimist. I’m pissed, I’m pissed, I’m pissed. NOW I need to listen to some punk rock and slam dance the fuck out of someone.

Oh and I’m pissed that I can’t seem to hate. I just can’t. No matter how badly someone treats me, I do NOT have the capacity to hate. But I am NOT a doormat. And Honey don’t you ever forget that! Okay now I am spent. This shiny, happy girl needs a fucking drink. Of water….

For the love of Facebook…

People have really gotten comfortable not only sharing more information and different kinds, but more openly and with more people – and that social norm is just something that has evolved over time. –Mark Zuckerberg

Yes I am a Facebook addict, whore, trollop, troll, slut, etc. Whatever you want to call it I am. I wear the label proudly. I’m a social person. Always have been. I do not apologize for this behavior. Even when I was disrupting the other students in the classroom and was sent out in the hall in elementary school. It mortified my mother that I was always “too social”. My therapist tells me I have a magnetic personality. That people are drawn to me like a moth to a flame. I don’t know about that, but I do know I LOVE to talk and people usually  listen. I think they listen mostly because I don’t use my inside voice too often. I do tend to be a bit brazen and loud. I love to say what’s on my mind. Even if what I have to say is deemed inappropriate by other people. What I say is usually what’s on the minds of others anyway, they’re just afraid to say it out loud.

I just checked my timeline and it appears that I started using FB back in 2008. It doesn’t seem that long ago…. I like timeline by the way. All you haters in FB land need to get with the program. The only constant in this life is change. Change is good. And it makes a jingling noise in your pocket (Harry, it’s a pun, I thought you’d like it). 🙂 No really, change is good. If we become stagnant, we die…..

I post and share a lot. I try to limit myself throughout the day though because I was getting really annoying about it. I was doing it WAY too much! I’m much more selective in what I post now. If I find an inspiring quote or passage I save it and then post it to my Need Inspiration photo album. I’ve recently created an author page called Renee Homan Heath Blog Goddess on FB. I’m getting a few likes here and there but I’m still not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing with it. Oh well, I’m learning as I go…. I’m a bit of a music whore too so I post a lot of videos. My musical taste is eclectic. I could post videos on dubstep, rock, punk, reggae, dance. Hell who knows. I’ll listen to anything….

FB taught me how to write. It brought Lisa to me one day and she told me that I had a talent. That I should blog so I can share it with others. That’s why I do this now. It brought me the Tracys. Two girls I so wanted to be friends with in high school, but was absolutely scared to death of. I love them both so much! I’ve told Roger Darling that if I ever go on life support he has to wait to pull the plug until Tracy from West Virginia gets to the hospital to say goodbye. She’s my sister from another mister and my split apart. I love her. I love the other Tracy too but she’s in Saline. She’d get to my bedside faster that WV Tracy would…. It brought me Sher, my biggest cheerleader when it comes to writing. She’s such a farm girl. I love her filthy mouth. Some of the things she says just floor me and make me laugh hysterically. And there’s Annie, one of my oldest and dearest friends. Our relationship fell by the way for many, many years. But because of FB we reconnected. We learned to love one another again. I can’t imagine not having her in my life. There’s Lo Lo, my nearest and dearest. The one who’s been with me for 30 years. She’s never judged and has always loved me. Through everything. There’s Harry, the best guy in my life besides Roger Darling and Adam. And Tina Lynn, and Janie and Rae Rae, and Ronnie, and Franky. And so on, and so on, and so on.  I love them all. They love me. They love my posts. They love what I write. They complete me.

So don’t judge me because I’m a FB whore, trollop, addict, troll, slut, etc. If it hadn’t been for FB I wouldn’t have found my calling. I wouldn’t have found my way. And I wouldn’t have found all of you, dear readers. If you want to friend me, please do. Either my personal page or my author page. I may just post something that you can relate to, that will make you laugh, or make you cry. You just never, ever know…..