At what point do I let myself stop being so strong?


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Ok that came out weird. Three days ago my back went out. Well, not completely, just enough for me to be in constant pain if I’m not in precisely the right position, but not enough for me to take time off to recuperate.

Honestly you can just add it to the growing list of aches and pains I deal with on a daily basis. Things like what I think is plantar fasciitis in my left foot, or how sometimes when I take a step with either foot I get a pain in my ankle joint and for a split second I cannot put weight on it. How about the fact that MY ARMS HURT. I am a side sleeper and I cannot sleep on my arms anymore without pain.

My hips hurt from compensating with my feet. My knees hurt because walking and bending and crawling in the floor.

The back pain right now is currently top of my list of “Why If Sucks To Be Me.”

Honestly if I had a pill I could take that would make all my aches abs pains disappear long enough for me to be a functioning adult, I’d probably develop a dependency. Honestly having a moment where I have absolutely no pain would be absolute freaking bliss. A high I will never achieve.

So at what point can I stop the “grin and bear it” thing I’ve been doing for, honestly, years now? Because I’m tired. I am not just physically but emotionally and mentally exhausted.

I’ve gone to work every day I’ve worked since my back went out. I spend the entire rest of the day when it happened at work. I went in the next day because “my brother’s getting married, if I can attend a wedding I can work.” When it should have been “if I can finish out my day after hurting my back, I can work another and attend a wedding.

Actually it should have been neither.

But because I am stubborn I didn’t want to miss work. Because

  1. Last time I hurt my back I had to take a leave. And it was deemed “not medically necessary” by the company that controls leave of absences for my Employer. Those missed days weren’t approved and I nearly lost my job because of it.
  2. I don’t like to think I’m letting someone else down or leaving more work for them to do.
  3. I’m a stubborn ass.

At some point I will break, in some form. I get home from work and can’t walk anyway, and now I’ve got this back pain to deal with.

Hopefully in a week or so it’ll let up. Probably would quicker if I had some time. But I don’t.

Thanks for reading.


I woke up this morning and my body chose violence.


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First off, I woke up with a headache. That shouldn’t even be a thing.

Second, I forgot pants. No, I didn’t leave the house without them, I’m pretty sure my Day Job wouldn’t let me get into the building without them. These are unattractive legs. They’re mine, but unattractive.

I realized I forgot to ensure I had clean pants for work. So I sat on the throne (🚽) and “read the news” (but also read the news because smartphones exhaust), just… pantless.

Then, I got up because it was time for The Hubby to “read the news” and I proceeded to drop things. My deodorant into the sink, the box of cotton swabs on to the floor, my shoes. my thought aloud to my spouse were, “is this how my day is gonna go? The universe is telling me it is.”

Honestly it was lucky I took my morning dose of ibuprofen. I’ve taken it every morning for the last few days hoping to minimize foot pain. Aside from everything else on my feet hurting, I’ve be blessed (and I mean that sarcastically) what I believe is plantar fasciitis. Nothing I do helps it, except staying off my feet as much as possible. But guess what? That’s my whole job.

Anyway I make it to work on time-ish. I plan for a productive day, but lo the Remod crew has been hard at work to destroy that which we know so well. Leaving my team (of which I do not lead) to clean up.

Boss works on that while I do other time sensitive tasks. he later asks me ti help with his work, and I commence. Which requires a whole load of bending in picking.

And then it happens.

The Twinge.

A tingling, jarring, unnerving split second of pain. Now the first twinge is nothing. It’s a whisper of what could be. So, as always when I get The Twinge, I stand perfectly still. I think, “is this it? Am I down for the count? Is my life over? Will this be the one that paralyzes me for good?” You know, because anxiety.

So I test the water. There it is again but not quite as there. Subtle. Now is when I think, “this could go one of two ways. Either it goes away never to bother me again… until the next time.” There’s always a next time. They’re just not always close together.

Or. This is the end.

Well, the problem was that I still had a great deal of bending and picking to do. Like a lot. And I was barely two hours into my day. And because I am the type of person to not want to let anyone down because it makes me feel like I’m not doing what I should be doing, I know I will not leave.

Because the last time I injured my back (did I mention this was my back) I was out of work for four days, could not physically move without pain. But I did not get approved for leave from work and I nearly lost my job because my absences were not approved. Apparently leave was not medically necessary.


So I was not leaving work so I could get in trouble for leaving work. Well I had PPTO so I would have been fine.

But as I told my much younger than me boss: I have been ignoring concerning aches and pains for decades. I’ll be fine.

I made it though my shift. Mostly whining, groaning, and banging non-fragile items on hard surfaces because sometimes you hurt and want to break thinks like you are broken.

I even managed to come home and make a crafty wedding gift.

And now my melatonin has slapped me in the face and is trying to pull down my eyelids. I’ll update tomorrow if I’m able to roll out if the bed tomorrow morning.



There’s a reminder on my phone to tell me to blog


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I can’t remember how often I have it set to remind me, because I ignore it most of the time.

But a few days ago I decided that enough was enough and I was gonna make a change. No. Not more blogging. Although I need to.

Between undiagnosed depression, being a parent, a full time job, and all the things I’ve expected of myself, and exhaustion from all those things combined, my home has suffered.

Yes, I can fix a broken kitchen drawer slide. Yes, I have installed a ceiling fan and a dishwasher, and most recently a doggy door (that last one almost made me lose my mind). I am a handy wife.

But I absolutely hate cleaning. It’s exhausting and never ending. And so, every single room in my home is a mess.

Surprise surprise, I am not a Blogger Mom. You see all these people with fancy beautiful spotless homes on the internet and YouTube and tiktok and they have clean homes and it’s absolutely depressing.

I’ve spent many a day stumbling through the house on my bad feet, wondering “if I trip and fall and break an ankle, and I have to call an ambulance, Will they report me and take my child away?” Or “if I die tomorrow, there’s going to be nothing but garbage and dirty laundry left of me.”

Maybe I could just fake a home invasion and robbery and “accidental arson”? No, wait, prison is bad.

I come home from work and think I need to clean. But it has become so overwhelming that it seems absolutely pointless. I’ve tried to just clean my room, the room I spend the most time in. But it seems that the mess grows back like dandelions after a rain storm on a freshly cut yard.

So I decided, two nights ago, that on my next day off from work (today), I was going to start small. The smallest room in my house, that I can move around in semi comfortable (so not the laundry room) is the bathroom.

In the bathroom is a floor carpeted with TP and laundry. The Kid stopped using her potty seat months and months ago, yet it’s still here.

The sink area is covered with fast food cups and beauty supplies. I have a drill in the floor.

Hey. Drill brushes are fun.

So, I’m gonna start here. and I’m going to work my butt off. Hopefully the endorphins from actually cleaning and getting it done help encourage me to choose another room.

But dang. The laundry is going to be never ending.

Wish me luck.

Thanks for reading.




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Over the last few days I’ve gotten several likes and views and maybe one or two followers. Not that it makes me a famous blogger yet. But as it’s been a while since my last post, I thought I’d reintroduce myself.

Hi, my name is Crystal. Welcome to my website/blog. Where I share the most random collection or posts and stories you may ever come across.

Here I will talk about my mom, who passed four years ago. Family related things, though I’ll never name anyone. Other general life related topics. I often briefly discuss changing my life and going in new journeys.

I like to do a “series” called “You Don’t Need…” where I pretend I’m a self-improvement/advice blogger and talk about things that the would tells you you need but might not be accurate.

I also like to say I’m a writer of fiction. I’ve written and self published a few books, currently available on Amazon. The most popular of which is “Black Friday: A Zombie Story. It was written for my friends and coworkers at the time and one reviewer pointed out that that fact made it less good?

One thing I do a lot of here that I feel I should warn you about is I Lie.

I make promises I never keep. I have good intentions, but little follow through.

The only excuse I can give you right now is that I am exhausted about 97% of the time. I work a full time job, I am a mom of an under 10 Kid with ADHD. I’ve been suffering from excruciating foot pain. And as someone who works on their feet for a living, that’s not good. After spending 8+ hours a day on my feet, I come home and only wish to rest. I can’t usually get past short form videos on my phone to think about doing anything else.

I tell myself I’m gonna try harder, because I would love for this to be come a career. But I try to live in reality to an extent and I know that it’s unlikely.

So, if I have any new followers, welcome. You might see me once in a blue moon, but know it’s not because I don’t wanna be here. Ya girl is just tired. Lol

Thanks for Reading


Four years ago today I had already heard the last words my mom ever spoke to me


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She told me that I had been her rock. She had been in and out of the hospital for four months and I’d been there for most of it. I was there for her because it made me feel better to be near her when she was sick.

Mostly because out of all four of her kids, I lived the furthest away, and wasn’t able to see her as much as I would have liked.

Those were the last words she said to me. She’ had said them as I left her in the hospital, by herself, hours away from home. I had no idea the next time I saw her she would be in and out of consciousness.

I know those were her last words to be.

It hadn’t occurred to me at the time that they’d be her last. Had I known that’d be the last time I’d hear her voice I wouldn’t have left that room.

Thinking about it now I realize I haven’t grieved for her in a while. Not just felt sad that she’s not here anymore. I do that daily. But really grieved. I remain wrapped up in my own frustration and depression and honestly constant physical pain of some sort.

Oh and mindlessly watching short videos on the internets.

I have a tick tack.

On Tuesday (4/19) it’ll be four years since she died. I have to work that day. It’s my least favorite work day. I hate Tuesdays. I’m sure I’ll be my usual borderline angry but trying to hide it self.

But with a touch of sad.

She would have loved my Kid’s gap-tooth grin. She would have loved watching the grandbabies hunt eggs, and my oldest nephew being a goofball. She would have enjoyed sitting with us outside while the kids played. She would have liked my brother‘a fiancé, I think. I’ve only met her a few times. But mom liked everyone, at least until they did her dirty.

I had no idea that writing a blog post about her would be hard. I’m laying next to my my sleeping Kid, writing this, trying not to cry.

The pain of loss, of losing someone you love so much, it never goes away. It is a wound that never heals. And it can never heal because we keep—whether intentional or not—picking at the scab that covers it. We let it bleed a little.

But I will not lie and say that it doesn’t get a little easier to cope with the pain. Over time, you get used to it. It’s like an uncomfortable buzzing sound coming from your ceiling fan. But you cannot sleep without the cool air so you leave it on. And eventually you forget it.

Or how you can always see your nose, your brain just erases it.

All I know is that every day for the last four years my heart has ached and wished she was still here. Eventually I stopped crying every day. But sometimes I hear a sad song, or watch the video from her surprise 60th Birthday party. And I peel away the scab and let the wound bleed.

Doing so sometimes feels like a little bit of therapy. But then I calm down, dry my eyes. And maybe I should start remembering that I’m her rock. Even if rocks gotta cry.

In Loving Memory. 11/10/1956-04/19/2018


We Love You, Always.


I think my child and I have an unusual emotional connection


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I’ve been pretty sick recently. Okay all of 2022, actually. But lately it’s been the flu. She got it from school and passed it on to her family. Mostly me. So yesterday, my day off work, I said, “I’m going to sleep all day and read.”

So after her and the hubs left for school/work, I went back to sleep. At around 10:30 I woke up and stretched, which caused the start of a devil cramp (a persistent muscle cramp in my legs that cannot be easily ended or reversed by stretches, that also hurts like hell).

I already felt like trash, sinus pressure in my head, coughing, etc. and I just wanted to sleep. But I had to get up and walk off this cramp instead of flexing it away and going back to sleep. So yes. I cried.

Eventually it went away and I made a big old cup of ice water and a sandwich and had lunch.

Fast forward to the afternoon (I took another short nap later) and I’ve picked the Kid up from school and we’re doing homework. Now, when she has a bad day her teacher emails me after school. These emails, while greatly appreciated, usually don’t come until too late. IE after we’ve finished homework and she’s gotten her iPad time.

If she’s had a bad day, and we know in advance, we do not let her have iPad time and we have a conversation about her behavior and what can be done.

I did not get the email until after she was in her iPad and we were having dinner. We had the conversation anyway, and I made sure she understood that had I know beforehand about her behavior, she wouldn’t have had her iPad.

But it turns out her bad behavior began at about 10:30. The same time I had a mini emotional breakdown due to a muscle cramp.

Now, she has been sick lately and is on the tail end of getting over the flu (her school excuse had her going back today). So it could be and was still feeling off and needed to transition back into her school routine. in fact this was probably it.

But the exact same time?

Anyway I’ve been thinking about this for some time now, and I’m going to experiment. Today is Tuesday. My least favorite day at work, and I tend to have emotional breakdowns, just not visibly, on these days.

My experiment will be me trying to have the best day ever. Let’s see if she does too.

I’ve been logged off of Facebook for 118 days and these are the reasons why


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I think it’s time to share.

  1. After obsessively posting about and telling literally everyone, not a single soul showed up to my child’s birthday party. We sent invites to her class, I created an event on Facebook which I shared repeatedly, I told people numerous times and verbally invited them. Most people said they’d try to come, said “maybe” to the event invite. One person messaged in the middle of the party and sent a gift but had “more important” things to do. No one else messaged or called or even said anything when I saw them in person. We paid a lot of money and no one came. Except my sister and her crew and I will be forever grateful to her. My baby had fun because of them. I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps I was the reason no one came. So I needed space from the people who swore they would have been there.
  2. I’ve spent way too much time falsely believing that I could find acceptance on social media. I found myself spending more time trying to think of posts that would make people like me than I should have. I like making people laugh—whether or not it’s at my own expense. My brain believes that it means they truly like me when in fact they’re just laughing at me. All I’ve ever wanted was to have friends and for people to like me. But perhaps it’s not my fault if someone doesn’t like me. They don’t have too.
  3. HATE: hate on each other, hate on one’s personality, beliefs, hating people for things they cannot change about themselves. people hating other people for their political affiliation, for their actions, for their way of life. Hate hate hate. Hate is poison and gets us absolutely no where.
  4. Scams for views: On Facebook, if you have a page, the more likes you get the more/easier you get seen. I have a Facebook page as my readers well know. I can access how much my page has be viewed. Views lead to new views. Views equal money. Nefarious pages post scams or clickbait in order to gain views. I’ve gotten pretty ok at spotting these. There are several people on my friends’ list that share these without a second thought.
  5. “Friends” People who have added me on Facebook, but barely speak to me in real life. Heck most of them barely spoke to me o Facebook. There’s a list, to be honest, of those people. I’ve begun the “don’t speak first” protocol to determine whether I’m a reality friend or a Facebook friend. It’s been leaning pretty exclusively to Facebook.
  6. My mental health: I have lost a lot of friends without even trying. They’ve just disappeared. Not in reality. No they’re alive. They’ve just decided to make a new Facebook and not re-ad me. Or they just ignored me completed despite a direct message, so I was done. This is the “Don’t Push Where There is No Pull Protocol”. If you try to be a friend and they don’t reciprocate, give up. Dwelling on whether or not someone likes you or their lying is absolutely damaging.


A few. That the people that actually cared about what I did on Facebook are missing me. That I don’t get to see when my sister posts or my friend’s babies are posted. My my family. That all the people who have their own Pages for their small businesses don’t get my attention anymore.

But because I use a dummy account to access my Facebook Page, I can search for certain things I want to see. My Kid’s school page, her daycare—though they don’t post her anymore. I can still view my Friend’s pages. I don’t like them with the Dummy, because I don’t want it to be found. Dummy has no friends and she likes it that way.

I can’t say my mental health has improved immensely. I probably have several undiagnosed issues. But I don’t go to a doctor when I feel like I was hit by I was struck by a BUS. But I can say that it hasn’t helped.

Well, the kid is rubbing her eyes and I’m yawning. So time for bed.

Gonna try and be more consistent. It’s been bonkers lately. Goodnight!

Thanks for reading


The Kid Asks, I Answer


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In which I share a question The Kid asks and the answer I give her.

I make it a point to not outright lie to her about stuff. I think at her age it’s a good idea to just tell her the truth. Unless it’s something traumatizing, she gets a reasonably straightforward answer.

Mom, how are nuggets made?

How are nuggets made? Well, let’s see. They’re made from chickens. And as you know they have to kill the chickens to make things out of them. So they kill the chicken and cut them up. They get all the best stuff off them like the breasts and the wings and legs, and they use all that to make that stuff.

Now, the stuff the that isn’t the best stuff, like the fingers, they put into a blender and mush it all up. Then they take that mush and they make shapes they want out of them. You know like how you can make shapes out of slime and Playdoh? Like that.

Then I think they take and they freeze the shapes. And when they’re frozen they take and they bread them. They take eggs and bread crumbs and they dip them. Then they fry them up, and then freeze them so they can put them in bags and send them to stores so we can buy them!

Her response?

Oh okay.

*walks away*

Thanks for reading!


Slap Heard ‘Round the World


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In this the time of the internet, with all kinds of information at our fingertips, the Oscar night event of Will Smith slapping Chris Rock across the face on live television is probably now considered old news.

Yeah this one.

But in case you live in a cave and only have enough WiFi signal to check my blog once in a while on the off chance I might have posted something, at the Oscars on Sunday, March 27th, Chris Rock, was presenting the winner of best documentary, or was about to, when he made a “G. I. Jane” joke.

“G. I. Jane” is a 1997 movie staring Demi Moore in which she is training to be a navy seal and shaved her head.

“GI” is a term used to describe soldiers and airmen if the US Army and Air Force, and their equipment. Often an abbreviation of Government Issue or Ground Infantry. This info has nothing to do with the joke.

Chris Rock was making the joke in reference to Jada Pinkett Smith, wife of Will Smith. Jada has been vocal about sharing and accepting and embracing her medical condition in which she loses her hair, called alopecia.

Now, it’s unclear whether Chris knew she had been shaving her head because of the condition or not. The limited about of reading I’ve done hasn’t indicated.

But Will decided to take it upon himself and make his way onto the stage to slap Chris across the face. When he went back to his seat, he shouted for Chris to “keep my wife’s name out your mouth.”

This is not verbatim.

He used more words than me

Apparently Will later won the award for Best Actor for his role as Venus and Serena Williams’ father.

Also, apparently, Chris Rock has made jokes about Jada Pinkett Smith since she decided to boycott the Oscars once before, in 2016. Her reason for the boycott was because of the lack of diversity. Also Will was apparently snubbed by not being nominated for his role in “Concussion”.

My opinion? Will Smith is overly protective and allowed himself to act on impulse instead taking it in stride. Honestly the whole thing was so bonkers the majority of people thought it was staged.

Ratings for the Oscars has gone down over the years, and they’ve tried to fix that. I wouldn’t put it past anyone for creating something to talk about.

Also, Chris Rock maybe should have thought things through before making the joke? I don’t know if he wrote his own bit or if the show’s writers did it for him. But in times such as these words are taken seriously but also with a grain of salt. You cannot be to careful with what you say to someone.

Also if you watch videos of the entire thing very carefully there is a moment where Will laughed. Now, maybe he saw Jada’s eye roll and thought he needed to stand up for her, but there was definitely a moment when he decided it would be just fantastic to get in front of hundreds of people and millions of viewers and smack another man.

Jada could have shrugged it off and let it roll off her, but instead she rolled her eyes and kept quiet. While I praise her for not making a fool of herself like Will did, I do wonder if maybe she reamed him for his nonsense later.

And there’s gotta be something said for just letting it go and not making it a bigger deal that what it is. The entire thing, from joke to slap. The internet has gone buck wild over it and that’s all I’ve seen since it happened.

Now, Will did apologize TO THE ACADEMY for what he did, while he was accepting his award for Best Actor for his roll in “King Richard” (a movie about two famous women’s DAD). Oh and the other nominees. He also mentioned being called to protect his family and the other actors involved in the making of the movie.

Perhaps he recognized that what he did was I bit off the rails, perhaps he just knew that the internet was going to find it highly entertaining.

What I hope is that perhaps a bigger conversation is had that maybe defending or protecting your loved ones from something that might make them upset or uncomfortable in some way doesn’t have to include violence, like straight up slapping someone on live television.

Or perhaps conversations about things like Alopecia and why Jada shaves her head.

Or maybe even that there is an opportunity for a new “G. I. Jane”. GI Jada. Maybe she wouldn’t be bad in a 25 years later version. There’s a lot that’s changed in the world. It could address some of the harsh realities of women in the Armed Forces, and what they’ve had to go through that’s come to light of late.

Maybe I need to read a more detailed synopsis of the original?

But it is safe to say that Google searches for Chris Rock, Will Smith, and Jada Pinkett Smith have all gone up over the last few days.

Thanks for reading!


Speaking of eye roll, back when I was a lot angrier and couldn’t control my mouth as much, I was in trouble and in the management office and my manager caught my eye roll. I’ve been much more careful with eye rolls since. FYI don’t eye roll someone when they’re looking at you.

Also I’ve always wanted to shave my head.