Amusing Conversations with Myself

talkingtomyselfSince nothing says bat shit crazy as much as admitting epic conversations with yourself, not to mention that my bosses happen to be on my Facebook and I’d rather they not question my sanity, I’ll pretend that this is normal behavior. I’m worse in my car than any other place. I am going to blame this mad-hatterness on an overactive imagination due to writing, but the reality is this. I talk to myself. All the time. Did I mention its worse in the car? I think better out loud apparently.

So this week my insecurities are all over the map. I need constant reassurances in almost every aspect of life because of all the changes. I broke up with my boyfriend, didn’t get a position I wanted at work, then because I didn’t get that position, I got a new boss. My daughter left the nest, and my other daughter is spending her summer vacation away from me. This is a fair amount of crazy train change for someone who needs balance and routine.

Yesterday, I wanted to think about anything else other than my day at work during the drive home. It was a rough day, I wore shoes that gave my blisters, an agent that I thought disliked me went out her way to thank me for being her ‘boss’. I moved to a new desk in the back of the room that didn’t have drawers. I was too short to write #1 on my own board. All of these are microscopic problems in the grand scheme of life, but for me, change sucks.

drtalktomyselfSo there I am, in my car, on the way home, having the most entertaining conversation, with myself. I told the imaginary recipients of my ire what I thought of their shenanigans. I was smart! I was witty! Dare I say even sarcastic? Well, Okay, maybe not sarcastic. Even in my imaginary conversations, sarcasm eludes me. Why am I admitting this, you ask me? Because I’m bored, and have coffee, that is why.

All this because what I really didn’t want to think about was the little part of me who takes everything as a rejection, to heart. Silence, perceived lack of interest, or being left with the feeling of too busy makes me neurotic. Mind you, a majority of this is in my head, which makes me the epic basket case you see before you.

Or it makes me… me.



Wanted: Sex, Sanity, and Mind Blowing Coffee

coffeesanityI can remember the last time I had mind blowing sex that left me weak in the knees and breathless. What a great five minutes that was. I can even remember the last time I had sanity in my life. I’m pretty sure it lasted less in length of time than the mind blowing sex. Good coffee though, I’m beginning to think its a myth. Some urban legend made to send simpletons like me running to places like Starbucks that force my wallet to hemorrhage for mediocrity.

Now those of you who actually know me, understand that my dating choices have left you amused, befuddled, and ready to have me committed for self destructive behaviors. I know this, you know this, hell the four year old neighbor could have warned me about my last attempt at coupling up. Needless to say, I have less faith in my current ability to actually make a half decent decision when it comes to the opposite sex.

So when someone strikes my interest, I turn into Super-Dweeb. I talk too much, laugh too loud, and analyze everything. There is nothing more neurotic than an insecure woman on a first date. Add to this a distinct lack of actual dating experience because I had sex and dating confused my entire life, and you get a woman who doesn’t know her ass from a hole in the wall about how one should act in this specialized environment.

empathyYou know what I’m good at? Making people feel at ease. I can listen, understand, and accurately assess how someone needs me to respond. I’m an empathetic person with a great deal of life experience to pull from in helping others. The reason I’m good at this is because I’m calculating. While this word gets a bad reputation, it doesn’t mean manipulation. I think all day, every day. Before you finish your proposal, I’ve analyzed every response that could potentially come out of my mouth, and the ripple effect they will have on the conversation. I’ve decided how my response will effect you, and chosen the path of lease resistance for your emotional responses.

Let me tell you how this translates to the dating world. It means my past choices were more for the other half than for myself. I’ve most certainly stayed with them because it was better for them. Here in lies the issue of my life. I have a serious need to take care of someone, and it pisses me off to have to. Is it too much to ask to meet someone who doesn’t need me, but wants me anyway?

So I’m going to come up with a new game plan. I’m not going to look for great sex in a man. God knows, that has led me down the path to Hell a few times. Though, lets face it, we will always remember when someone rung our bell well. I will stop looking for sanity. At thirty-four, its a lost cause. But damn it, I will use every first date from here to eternity to find the best coffee out there. After all, a girl has to have standards.

Though actually, yesterday I had a date with good conversation, good coffee, and mouth watering thoughts.



I Am Not A Quitter


My life has been a roller coaster of late. It seems as if each tiny step I’ve taken forward, an emergency of some kind has shoved me thirty steps behind. As I usually like the view of where I’m standing, I don’t often mind this. But it really pisses me off when my disappointment in my circumstances lead to an overall bitchitude around me. For a while, I felt overwhelmed by life and abandoned by hope.  My children were out of control, my relationship with my family was dismal at best. I truly believed that my ship was afloat with no direction. 


The one thing I thought I had working in my favor was my employment. I have a fabulous job that I genuinely enjoy. I had the respect of my peers and the active participation in my growth from my boss. But, as is life, my chaotic home life began to trickle in through the glass double doors of my job. Basically everything went to Hell in a hand basket and everything suffered. My job became something I had to do, instead of somewhere I could escape to. 

Now, I’m paying for this extreme series of unfortunate events. Each time I find something to reach toward, I’m given a very polite, but firm denial. While being told no is no ones favorite thing, it sucks to no end to be told no because you screwed up by over sharing personal trials.


So instead of being discouraged, I’ve decided to suck it up. To take a piece of the advice I give so freely to others.  I’m going to be exactly what is necessary to get where I need to be. It’s been said that I’m not aggressive enough, that is an easy change.  I will be the exemplary product of self motivation because the next time it will be me. I will not be passed over because I’ve answered a question wrong or because someone else may have been an easier choice.

Don’t mess with an ambitious woman.


Internal vs. External Struggles.

In my heart, I know that I’m not the most in tune person with rational thoughts and feelings. When you have to remember to be emotional, when it isn’t second nature, life makes little sense most of the time. That’s not to say that I don’t have rampant emotions like the next person, but more in how I process them. Fear I process well. If I’m scared, or the stability of my security is shaken, then all I can do is feel. Feel and fear.fearliar

We grew up in a rather unorthodox way, but we survived it. There are plenty of scar tissue that dictates this functioning adults entire way of thinking. Sometimes I even attribute my ability to survive now because of the sheer madness we grew up in. This rambling does have a point, I promise. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived in fear because if nothing else, I know how to survive. I’m damn good at day to day struggles. I just happen to suck at everything else.

In the last half of 2013, my life changed over, and over, and over again. The weight on my shoulders grew. A new life would be welcomed into my home, but not before a four week nightmare that left many concerns over health and well being. The job I once loved changed and left me feeling inadequate and belittled. My failures as a parent became obvious when I spent my days at my job and not tending to the child who so desperately needed my attention. Do to his free reign, he now has a record that will haunt him until adult hood with multiple misdeeds. I lost a close relationship that meant everything to me because I had to let go. I started another relationship that ended many others.

I’ve never been afraid of change. To this day if I’ve been in one location too long, I get an overwhelming urge to pack. To fit everything that I can in my car so I can just go. I have run away from my life so many times, it’s amazing that I’ve been in the same town for seven years. This anxiety, that used to make me find a new location to start over, has sat in my chest waiting to explode for at least five of those seven years. This desire to possess nothing that I can’t carry or fit in a vehicle, because then no one can take it from me. I’m the only woman in the world afraid to own fancy shoes because they’d get lost on my next ‘run’.

It’s not a lack of support system. I have the most amazing sisters, one in particular, I’d simply have folded the cards along time ago had she not been the rock that she is. A best friend of twenty some years that has held my hands, bought my kids shoes, and sat up with me at an ER when I had to make a choice that was beyond difficult.  I’ve made new friends and created a new external family that I genuinely love and care for.

And yet, in my struggles, in my head, I fail. I failed the children who can’t ever do anything outside the walls of their home because I had far too much pride to file for child support and a strong belief that he wouldn’t pay anyway. I live, and raise my children off hard work and the grace of God.

When choices come between paying for your home, or paying for your car that takes you to your job, how do you make them? When feeding your family chicken leg quarters for most nights of the month because they’re 79 cents a pound, and vegetables are a splurge, how do you accept hearing a child say their hungry? When you fall behind and it effects those who helped you, how do you live with yourself? When people say they’re happy to help, then the help isn’t there, it jades you just a little. It does me anyway.

I know that I’m not alone in these struggles. There are millions of families out there right now that are making choices much like mine. Today I’m just exhausted. I work hard, I love my children, I’m a good person, and yet I can’t guarantee that I’ll have a car that isn’t repossessed, or a home that will continue to be mine. I asked for prayers on Facebook because I need them. I need a miracle to happen. I thought about putting a Paypal donation button, but then I thought to myself how many people out there have already lost their car. Whose eviction papers have already been filed, and who eat ramen instead of chicken quarters, and I just couldn’t do it.

So this is me, praying for my miracle.


Kristy Bock


Cover Reveal ~ SHIFTING DARKNESS #InterracialRomance #ASMSG #ParanormalRomance

As always Yvonne is fabulous

Whispers in the Dark

I came up with the storyline for Shifting Darkness while working on an anthology with Stephanie Burke and PJ Schnyder. Unfortunately, the anthology didn’t pan out, but we walked away with a friendship and 3 awesome stories about…

Are you ready for this?


Yeah, baby!

The characters in Shifting Darkness were so dynamic and so much fun to create, I felt that they would be right at home in the world of the Dragon Queen. 

The brilliant cover artist who created this cover, along with all the covers in the Dragon Queen Series, is Karri Klawiter. This woman is amazing, so amazing that if I wasn’t already married, I would ask her to marry me. 😀

Now, for the big REVEAL…

I present to you the cover for SHIFTING DARKNESS!


An unseen war is brewing in the shadowy underworld of London.


View original post 170 more words

Oh where to begin…

overwhelmedFor the majority of my life, I’ve had no problem compartmentalizing my world. There’s right and there is wrong. Up down, black white, big small, etc. The gray areas of this world were something that I didn’t particularly need to focus on. With a core value system firmly in place, I lived my life with the expectation that most people are good, they mean well, but sometimes are not able to live up to words they choose to use. As the years went on, I learned that its better to eliminate the people from your life than to deal with the constant disappointment over their words or actions. This began to be a pattern, an unfortunate one.

From grandiose things that have left physical or mental scars, feeling not just unloved but unwanted to the milder things such as not doing what they say they’re going to. I can cut a person out of my life, and never think on them again. It’s like their memory is a closed window with a blackout shade that doesn’t even hint at what they once were to me. I honestly believe that forgiveness isn’t something I’ve ever really done. I hold grudges with no intention of ever letting them go, and i can tell you every slight, every hurt feeling, and every wound delivered to me by another. These are my coat of arms, my shields against the world.

I’m thirty-four years old and have no idea how to truly forgive someone for anything. I think the mythical sense of relief expressed by people when they finally ‘let go’ and ‘move on’ is really bullshit and self disillusionment. Someone once threw in my face that God forgave me for my sins, so I need to forgive the persons who made me bitter. First of all, i’m not bitter. I’m not a God, obviously he’s a better man than I. I’ll just keep cleaving out the ones who wound me until I’m left with the people in my life who are good influences, and strive to be good human beings. I don’t see anything wrong with this.

My seventeen year old daughter had a child three weeks ago with a twenty year old. He’s a member of the armed forces and took ten days leave. While he was on leave, I went with him to get a car, so that he could help my daughter get back and forth to the hospital because the baby was premature and wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. He also extended his leave, another ten days.

While his newborn son was in NICU, still in the hospital with a feeding tube up his nose, this new father takes a vacation to go visit his family. He stays for about seven days, and flies back. The car mysteriously had things wrong with it, and he couldn’t drive it back. Mind you, my daughter still has to go to the hospital every three hours. It got to the point where my pothead neighbors created a buddy system for her while I worked so that she didn’t have to walk alone and be bothered by assholes.

Now I’m supposed to just forgive this. I’m supposed to understand that it’s not my fight. That it’s okay that he went to Tennessee and abandoned his child. I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself.

Fine, then I can’t speak a single word. So I didn’t. He came to my house, and expected everything to be fine. I left a room if he came in it, and if he wanted to be downstairs with the kids and my daughter, I went upstairs. This of course caused hurt feelings, I made him feel unwanted. GUESS WHAT!?!?! You are. Moving on.

I arranged for him to get a ride back on base, at 8pm last night. In his infinite wisdom, he wanted to stay longer, so gets his return time moved back to 8 am the next day. Guess whose ass had to get up and drive him? Yes. Me. My daughter knows I will do what needs to be done, and so does he. I’m beyond disgusted by the selfishness that I see in him that I’m supposed to be okay with.

Now this young man is going to be in my family for the rest of my life. I’m ill equip to deal with any of this. I do not possess the social skills strong enough to watch this boy wreck my daughter’s life, hear heart, and then ruin the life of their child. I really just want to punch him in the face, and then force him as far away from either of them to prevent the damage he’s going to do.  But no, I have to keep my damn mouth shut, and my opinions to myself.

Fuck it all, that’s hard.

Taking donations for a vacation for myself, because I’m going to be needing a mental institution before too long.

Finding Hope

hopeAs my previous Emo style posts were indicating, I’d found myself in somewhat of a darker area of my life. Nothing seemed to work out the way I planned or intended it to. All my roads, paved with good intentions, seemed to go to Hades in a hand basket before I had time to blink. I really struggled with finding that silver lining that everyone seemed so certain was just beyond that horizon. Well, I didn’t find mine, but a friend of mine found hers, and it put things in a new perspective for me.

This woman I work with is a good soul. She not only leads by example, but she truly appreciates what she has in life. It’s a rare breed of person these days to understand that we can’t always have what we want, rarely get what we feel we deserve, and almost always have to accept what we need in it’s place. I listened as she shared her struggles, and worried with her when things looked bleak for her. That ever present fear of going without something vital is a bond most of us can share.

Well, her perseverance amounted to the culmination of patience and faith. She kept doing her good deeds, kept living this life to the best of her ability, within her means, and simply made a hard situation stable and productive. The greatest thing about her is that she never complained. She just dug her heels in and made what life threw at her work. I truly envy that in her. It’s a strength of character that I don’t often feel I possess. I am still so desperately angry at the turning points in my life that I’ve never been really able to live in the moment.

I spoke with her today and saw the glow on her face as the burden she’d carried for so long was lifted. Botox or plastic surgery has nothing on the value of de-stressing to make a woman look beautiful. Her smile couldn’t be contained. It was that look of joy that sparked my own happiness. Even though hers has nothing to do with me, seeing it left a profound impact. Knowing that sometimes struggles really do come to an end made me begin to question the depth of my own anxieties. How much of them are based on reality, or are they based on  my perception of hopelessness?

So, thank you. Co-worker who shall remain nameless. In one conversation you helped piece a little bit of my soul back together. You gave me hope, and that’s something that I’d been sorely missing. Never underestimate the power of your reach, because even unintentionally you can touch the life of another.


Random Nonsense

I have limited my life in so many ways. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to be a healthy person. In any aspect, mind, body, or spirit. Most of the time my soul is angry. I feel as if I could lash out at the many people who have done damage to my world. Since I’m also a pacifist, that doesnt actually work. None of my problems would ever be solved by violence or war.

That got me thinking, am I truly a pacifist? I really don’t care about other people’s violence. If they blow themselves up, its none of my concern. If given the chance, would I take that one lucky parting shot of there were no concequencea to my actions. I’d probably not survive the guilt, so I’d be the one left holding the smoking gun, with the bullet lodged in the concrete in front of me.

I’m slowly losing my mind. I grow more weary of the struggles and fights. At what point is it fun to get older? When do you finally reach the point of just not giving a damn.

God I look forward to that day

Epic Dating Fail Volume 2

dating2So, it’s four am. My sleep cycle is so completely out of control that I may never sleep a full 8 hours again in my life.  So, since its officially Pay Day Friday, I have already paid bills, watched my money disappear one transaction at a time, and contemplated donating a kidney on the black market… the only problem with that is I don’t actually know anything about kidney extraction or the telephone number to someone connected with the elusive black market.

I got a message from someone on POF, a dating website. This message is as follows:

hey bby grl, got bg bk ck for you. com ride dis pole.

I can’t make this shit up folks. This is the new pick up line. Back in the day someone at least bought me a drink before telling me about their anatomy or which orifice they’d like to be in. So this is a shining example of why I’m going to be single for the rest of my natural life. In my head, it’s disrespectful to talk to someone that way, if you don’t know them well enough to be sure they’d be okay with it. Frankly, there’s nothing attractive about that to me. What the hell ever happened to hello?

I don’t think I’m cut out for dating in this desensitized age. I like kindness, and sincerity. I want someone to respect me enough to not assume that just because I like sex, that’s all I’m good for. The honest truth is, I have a telephone number to scratch an itch. What I want is someone to be human enough to make a connection beyond two minutes of bump and grinding.

When I date someone, i’m a pretty damn decent girlfriend. I’m supportive, giving, affectionate. I like football, will travel around to car shows even though its 8000 degrees outside and know i’m going to get sun burnt to hell and back, simply because I want to spend time with the person I’m dating.

Am I a prude? Is it a cultural thing? Am I too old to date? Seriously, someone clue me in on why we are so disillusioned as a society that the entire courtship process has turned to sex. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against sex, I just think that if I actually want to spend time with someone to date them… I want to know more than their cock size, or how good they think they are with it.

Just to show you, I am an absolute ass when it comes to all things dating, I even took the time to reply.

Hello… I can tell by you’re brief message that we’re not looking for the same things. I wish you the best of luck.

His reply:

way 2 jug

… This is me giving up on common sense and decency for one night. Next time I’ll just say fuck off. I imagine that will be more acceptable.

Good morning – it’s 5 am, do you know where your cock is? Apparently it’s doing all your thinking on dating websites.

xoxo – KDB

The Three Am Mind Warp


I find myself in a cycle of depression that I can’t seem to pull away from. If it wasn’t for work, I’m pretty sure I would never get out of bed. I have loving, caring sisters, a great group of friends, fabulous children. I like my job. There is no reason for me to feel this beat down. It’s like I didn’t get enough sleep, one night a year ago, and am still trying to play catch up.

I know financials is my biggest stress. I can’t buy school supplies for a single kid. Not one. I wouldn’t have been able to do it last year either, were it not for the kindness of two people I never even laid eyes on. I swore this year it would be better. Yet here I am, four days before school, crying because I cannot provide. I am failing them, every day a little more.

From the fathers that don’t pay child support, to the horrible hours I work where I don’t spend enough time with them, on top of not being able to keep them clothed appropriately. I asked a friend, whom I know is struggling as much as I am, just to go through her sons clothes so that I can send my son in clothes that fit.

I can’t breathe. I don’t mean that literally so don’t call ems, but like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. I feel like I have no one to reach out to because everyone I know is in the same boat. All I can do is cry and pray I survive to my next crisis.

I know I made mistakes, I picked poorly when I brought children into this world. They have been denied a father figure because of my bad judgment, but how much more do we suffer? I’m running on fumes, and see no end in sight.

I just want to be able to not stress like this. To not have every waking moment be anxious and fearful that some tragedy is going to decimate my tightrope financial walk.

Being an adult sucks.