I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You


“With the right music, you either forget everything or remember everything.”


~Unknown

Music has a way to clinging to memories, or memories cling to music, I’m not sure which.  So many times in my life, I hear a song and I am transported to a moment in time and I experience the same emotions that I did back then.  One of my strongest memories is linked with I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You, by Elvis Presley.  The thought of it makes me smile.

I was 15 years old, and madly in love (as much as a high school girl can be) with a boy we will call Geno, because that is his name.  His blue eyes, wow. Anyway, I liked him for months and did all the silly high school girl stuff, like blushing when I saw him, putting myself in the right hallways so that he was sure to see me, writing endless notes to my friends about him.  All of it. I was sure that he didn’t notice me. We had mutual friends and hung out in the same circle, but I was invisible. Or so I thought.

Our circle of friends were all very involved in our church. (Yes, this witch was Catholic.)  Every year the church did a themed dinner for all of the volunteers and the youth group would work the event.  This year, it was a 1950s theme. All of the girls wore poodle skirts and the boys wore jeans with tee shirts with rolled up sleeves.  We all looked so great and it was a fantastic night.

After dinner was done, we had a dance. I was rather shy so I didn’t really dance with any boys.  My friend was across the dance floor and waved me over. The song comes on, I am walking across the dance floor when someone grabs my arm.  I look over my shoulder and he pulls me into his arms for a dance. Geno. Even thinking about it now I makes me smile like a schoolgirl.

Nothing ever came from it, when never dated, but he made my night. The funny part is, he probably doesn’t even remember.  I don’t care, I will remember it fondly forever. Whenever I hear that song, I go back to that dance, and I smile.

What is your favorite music memory?

Please follow and like us:

You Can’t Have Roses Without the Thorns


“You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.”


~Zig Ziglar

I was browsing Wish, (a shopping app with really cheap prices) and found this beautiful ring.  It was a set of two, one was a ring of thorns, and the other was thorns and a rose.  I ordered them and three months later, (they come from Asia), they arrived at my door. Yay!  Mail that is not a bill is always welcome in my home.

Now, I have really chubby fingers so I didn’t think it would fit, but it fits perfectly on my pinky finger. Woot!  Currently, I am choosing to wear the one with just the thorns. Here’s why. I am in a state of rebuilding myself. I experienced rock bottom this year, and I am digging my way back up and out.  I still have rough days, and days I just feel like crying. At times I hide, but now I allow myself to be there for a time, but I don’t unpack and live there. Living there doesn’t help me grow, and I am growing like a weed, or should I say bush!

This ring is a reminder that I am the thorn right now, prickly at times, but growing into a big bush of stabby things (it is much better than it sounds).  Sometimes, I prick myself and I bleed, but I wash it off and move on. Sometimes I prick others and they bleed, I do my best to make amends and we move on.  As the bush grows, the thorns and sharp ends become covered with vibrant green leaves that eventually grow beautiful flowers, the most loved flowers in the world.  Roses.

Life is a journey.  Sometimes it’s prickly and makes you bleed, and other times it is a beautiful flower that brushes against your skin softly comforting you.  Just like the seasons, the rose bush waxes and wanes like we do. Sometimes we are prickly and sometimes we are soft and comforting. No matter what , we always continue to grow, and that is the most important thing.  

We must always be growing.

Please follow and like us:

Beautiful Inside and Out


“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection”


~Buddha

I have had to deal with low self-esteem issues since I was an early teen.  I was anorexic for a good part of high school because I was disgusted with the way I looked.  I felt unworthy of attention, yet it was something I craved. There was no affection anywhere in my life, I was alone yet surrounded by people.  Looking back, I was wrong, I was beautiful. I just wish I had known better. Life might have been different.

Now, I am older, and a curvy girl. The self-esteem was not getting any better, in fact, it was getting worse.  Every time I looked in the mirror I just wanted to cry.  Losing weight is difficult because of the bipolar meds and the PCOS. Another thing to add to the list of things that make me feel bad about myself.  Then 2018 happened and everything changed.

I broke up with a long term boyfriend and entered the world of dating.  I started dating this wonderful man. Like really wonderful. Wow. We dated for about 6 months and it was a wonderful time.  He was so loving and affectionate. He was always playing with my hair (hint to guys, do this, girls love it), holding my hand, and telling me how beautiful I was.  Beautiful? Eh, not really sure about that one, but it was nice to hear.

Overtime, and very slowly, he calmed me down.  I know longer jumped when he touched me. (If a man was ever physical with you, you understand) he would put his hand on my tummy (my least favorite part of my body) and tell me over and over I was beautiful and worthy of love.  Eventually, my thought process started to change. Now to be clear, he didn’t change me, he helped me change myself.

Since moving on from that relationship, I have kept the momentum going.  If someone tells me I’m beautiful, or gives me another compliment, instead of brushing it off with a “No, I am really not” I just say thank you. I say thank you and take is as sincere.  It was hard at first, but it is getting easier.

This is not an overnight fix, but I probably feel more confident about myself than I ever have.  I am beautiful, and I figure if I say it enough times it will stick. I am also awesome, and I am not afraid to tell everyone (I am very modest).

I want to say thank you. Thank you to the people in my life that put up with my low self-esteem for so long.  Thank you for those who took the time to help me feel better about myself, and most of all, thank you to myself for being open to this change.

Here’s to ongoing progress, and acceptance of myself.  

Please follow and like us:

A witch at Christmas


“All the best stories have witches in them.”

~Unknown

Being the only public witch in the family can be hard especially because I choose not to hide it.  I have more of the attitude of “I’m a witch dudes, get over it.”. No one in the family celebrates Yule, or even recognizes it as a holiday. It is Christmas all the way. Even though Christians pretty much took over Yule and made it into Christmas. Like really? Yule Log has Yule IN THE NAME, but that’s a whole other post. I know they don’t understand, but still, it’s unfulfilling.  I am slowly figuring about little ways to sneak some Yule into the mix. Mostly so I don’t go insane.

This year, I gave all of my nieces and nephew crystals for Christmas.  We had a conversation about three weeks ago about how everyone has a birth crystal that corresponds with the zodiac calendar. They seemed really excited about it so I went with it.  They all got a polished stone and a raw stone so they could see the difference. I also added selinate to charge them, and a necklace to wear them.

My 8 year old niece, (the witchling), was over the moon.  So I went further and explained all the properties and what she can use the stones for, she got Jade and Emerald. (Expensive child)  I also explained that she can put all of the crystals on her windowsill on the full moon to cleanse and charge them. Her face was priceless.  It made my heart so happy. We now have a deal that I have to call her on everything full moon and remind her.

Then, something happened that made my entire holiday.  My family is really large, so we chose names for Secret Santa.  My sister-in-law picked me. When it was my turn she handed me two gifts.  The first, and kick ass Harry Potter light. Woot! The second, almost made me cry.  Inside the box, gently wrapped, was a large beautiful piece of raw rose quartz. To go further, she researched the meanings and wrote them down on a piece of paper and at the bottom wrote, “Happy Yule”.  I don’t think there are words to describe my feelings at that moment. I simple thank you, did not seem enough, but it is all I had.

That crystal will have a special place on my altar always, because it truly is a crystal of love.  I will always remember the year that someone in my family remember Yule, and the fact that it is an important part of my life.  Dear sister-in-law, you made my holiday season, thank you so much.

So this year, I was a witch at Christmas, and someone remembered.

Please follow and like us:

Me and my mania.


Bipolar disorder means waking up not knowing whether Tigger or Eeyore will be making your decisions for you.


~Unknown

Mania.  It really is the best feeling ever, there is nothing like it. It can last for hours, days, weeks or even months.  I feel happy, genuinely happy, an emotion that I don’t feel often. I am full of energy, I am getting stuff done. I am focused, yet easily distracted (Squirrel!). Hence why I have been writing this post for three days.  I spend too much money (So much shopping!), and not enough sleep (Thank you 4:30 am!). I also often get tattoos or piercings. Sometimes these decisions are great, other times not so much. Luckily, this time, my promiscuity is in check… for now.  The three keys to my mania, sex, spending, and pain.

I talk to fast and often stumble over my words because my mouth cannot keep up with my brain and all its ideas.  These ideas, of course, are the best ideas ever. All of them, and they all need to be done right now. Without plan and without haste.  In reality though, they are usually not great and I have to deal with the fall out afterwards.

I can’t sit still.  I am constantly tapping my foot, clicking my pen, basically driving everyone around me crazy.  To me, it’s normal, and it feels good. Everything feels good, and if it doesn’t, I search harder for the things that do.  The choices I make, they are usually out of character. It is like I am two people at times. The fun one who does what she wants, and the depressed one that is drowning in emotions.  Luckily, manic episodes only come every so often, and I have not had a one this intense since July.

July was a mess, no good came from July.  I was completely manic through the entire death of my grandfather.  There were no tears, there was no feelings. I was bouncy, and helpfully, but with no emotion on the inside.  I am still trying to grieve and it is a difficult process. So many things happened over the summer that when the inevitable crash happened, I ended up in the hospital.  A first for me.

The worst part of a manic episode is knowing that it won’t last forever.  Knowing that the crash is coming, the great fall to depression. It hurts, sometimes for a very long time.  I find myself praying that my mania will last. Like now, I just want it to last through Christmas, I can’t crash for Christmas.  I have way too much to do, people are depending on me.

I have often said that the hardest part of having bipolar disorder is that I never know if I am really happy or not.  Am I having a good day, or or am I getting elevated. Once it starts, there is nothing I can do. I can try to be aware, I can try to make little changes to keep myself in check, but it is often useless.  When I am manic, I just don’t care. I do what I want, when I want to with no regrets. Ever.

Bipolar disorder is like living on a roller coaster.  Sometimes you are up, sometimes you are down, occasionally you are at baseline.  All I can do is use my CBT & DBT skills the best I can to limit the damage. However, if given the option, I don’t think I would change a thing.  Yea, it’s really hard, but it is apart of me. It makes me who I am. I am creative, spastic, and unique. I look at the world differently than most people.  I am badass because of everything I have been through. And with everything that I have been through, I am still standing. The best part? There is no one in the world like me, and that is a great feeling.

I have bipolar disorder, it does not have me.

Please follow and like us: