Tag Archives: Best friend

“If you want to conquer fear, don’t sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.” -Dale Carnegie

Hello readers! I hope everyone had a great weekend, I know I did. I had the one to go to Universal Studios Hollywood for their Halloween Horror Nights (HHN) with Victoria. That is what this post will be about.

The best part of it? Returning “home” after 9+ months. We had early entry, meaning we were able to go in two hours early, but they let us in an extra half hour early. So, we HHN starts at 7pn, our tickets said we could enter at 5pm, but the gates opened at 4:30pm. With that extra time, we went straight to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. I miss it every day and I wanted to see what was new and say hi to old friends.

We were able to get through 6 of the 8 mazes and they were great. Unfortunately, the Stranger Things maze had us in line for well over an hour so it delayed us a bit. We could have fit in one more maze but my feet were killing me so we went back to our hotel.

If you are planning on going to HHN this year, or any year, I recommend getting the early entry because it is so worth it. You can start on a couple mazes earlier, which we should have done, but you could also get in a bit of other park stuff as well.

Thank you all of posting and I know this is super short and late but I’m feeling a bit under the weather. An update on washing my face, I haven’t gotten the face wash I want yet but I am using a clay mask every Sunday evening and so far my skin loves it. Also, check out the photos below!

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“The hard part is putting one word after another.” ―Jo Linsdell

Last week I decided to start working on my book again. I realized that I began working on it 10 years ago, and I desperately want to finish it. Of course, I haven’t been writing continuously for the last 10 years. I didn’t write at all for a few years. Plus in 2016 I decided to scrap what I had and start over. Of course, around the same time my best friend was hit by a car. I was planning to do as much as I could for NaNoWriMo, but life had other plans. Then I planned on writing for camp NaNoWriMo last summer, but school kept me busy. Then I was unable to participate in NaNoWriMo last year due to personal issues. So, I am going to just do it. I want to do it for NaNoWriMo, but I can’t just sit here and wait 9 months just so I can cram 50,000 words onto paper for the sake of saying I did it. Who knows, maybe I will be done with my first draft and working on my second draft by that time.

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All I know is that it is part of my 30 before 30 list to finish and publish this book. I am determined, and my wonderful boyfriend and my best friend are both behind me on this. It will happen, so stay tuned for updates. For now, enjoy this image that I decided to use as my temporary cover. Yes, we all look terrible, we were at a sleepover and I was 17. This is by no means the actual cover, though.

I know this post was completely random, but it’s what I’m doing right now. As always, thank you for visiting my blog. It is greatly appreciated! Keep coming back for new content each week.

Please enjoy my playlist pertaining to my book, it’s the popular songs/songs we listened to back then. https://open.spotify.com/embed/user/carraskye/playlist/6dnlocOoYCaEqFlmYXbmao

“How often are we to die before we go quite off this stage? In every friend we lose a part of ourselves, and the best part.” -Alexander Pope

As we get older, our lives change. The things were valued when we were 5 are not the same things we valued at 16 and the things we valued at 16 are, most likely, different from the things we value most in our adulthood. We may move away from home, experience the death of a loved one, or even the birth of our own children. Some changes are hard to cope with while others are accepted with open arms. One of the more difficult ones that I have recently dealt with is loosing a dear friend.

As we age, we find that the friends we had in high school are probably going to go on different paths in life from you. Every once in a while we find that one friend, sometimes two, who stick with us through all of those changes. They’re what we all call our best friend. You don’t see anyway that would make your friendship end because you’re just too close. But then, life throws you a curve ball and you’re leaving her house at midnight because she hurt you in an unforgivable way. You go days, weeks, months without saying a word to her. You see that she’s happy, even with you gone, while you’re trying hard to stop the flow of tears. It’s not a happy time in your life. It’s harder than when the guy you were in love with broke up with you. She knows all of your secrets, she’s the one you talked to when anything (big or little) happened in your life and all you want it to have that again. But you can’t. You can’t have that again because she broke your heart in a way you never thought possible.

17238931_1647987095509682_603771781_nIf you’ve never experienced such a pain as I just described, then you are very lucky. I actually experienced this more than once. The first time started in high school. After several years of barely talking, we are actually on good terms. We are not where we used to be, we may never get there, but we are still friends and we do care about each other. The second time happened on March 4, 2017. I won’t go into details but when I was verbally attacked by two people I thought were supposed to be my friends. I wasn’t going to sit around and let it happen so I left. I left the house in the middle of the night and walked down the street. I left all of my stuff that I had with me, I had no jacket, I didn’t even have any plans. I just made a couple of phone calls until I found someone able to pick me up and take me out of there. I felt numb. Not just from being cold but from the torture I was just put through. The one person I trusted with my life, let me down.

I haven’t talked to her, I can’t. There’s nothing left to say. I still very much care about her but I just can’t get over what I was put through. At least not right now. I spent three days crying off and on because of it. My heart is aching. But the words that were said cannot be taken back. Nor will they even try. Them wanting me to accept their harsh words is more important that friendship, which hurt even more when I was told that.

I’m not posting this to call anyone out or to get sympathy from my readers. I am posting this because I want my readers to know that you are not alone in the pain you feel after losing your best friend. I’m not the first person to every experience this and I most certainly will not be the last.

I decided to do a bit of research on dealing with a “Best Friend Breakup” and I was pleasantly surprised that there was a lot out there on Google pertaining to the topic. Here are a few things that I took away from my Google search:

  1. “Friend breakups tend to go unacknowledged, which can contribute to why people suffer so much from them. When the public response is ‘Eh, it happens,’ you feel like you shouldn’t be mourning as much as you are.” (How to Deal—and Heal—When a Friend Breaks Up With You)
  2. The closer you were to the friend you broke up with, the more you’re going to hurt. So give yourself adequate grieving time. (How to Deal—and Heal—When a Friend Breaks Up With You)
  3. Don’t get down on yourself if you find that you need more time. (How to Deal—and Heal—When a Friend Breaks Up With You)
  4. Try not to disavow all the good times you and your former friend had. (How to Deal—and Heal—When a Friend Breaks Up With You)
  5. The 13 steps on wikiHow to Get Over the Loss of a Best Friend
  6.  Buzzfeed’s article “17 Things Anyone Who’s Ever Had A Friend Breakup Knows
  7. Let yourself cry it out (Surviving a Friendship Break Up)
  8. Write a letter to your friend that you never intend to send (Surviving a Friendship Break Up)
  9. It may seem obvious, but don’t force your other friends to take sides. Get comfortable with the fact that they may still spend a great deal of time with your ex-gal pal and that this is no reflection on you. (Surviving a Friendship Break Up)
  10. Just like dating, sometimes you have to be the one to take the first step (Surviving a Friendship Break Up)
  11. Put yourself first and make sure you are getting plenty of sleep, eating well and sticking to your usual routine. (Friend breakups are the worst – here’s how to handle them)
  12. You’ll need to surround yourself with other friends and family if you have lost a close friend, and it’s important to keep up with your social commitments, so that you don’t sit at home feeling increasingly depressed and isolated. (Friend breakups are the worst – here’s how to handle them)
  13. It’s normal to sit around going over things in your head and wondering what went wrong – this is how we grieve the loss of a person in our lives and it’s an important part of the healing process. (Friend breakups are the worst – here’s how to handle them)
  14. Be optimistic and remember that just because you have lost a friendship, doesn’t mean there won’t be more opportunities for new friends in your life! (Friend breakups are the worst – here’s how to handle them)
  15. If you are struggling to come to terms with the friend-shaped hole in your life, talking to other friends and family members can help you get some perspective. If you’re feeling really low, seek support from a counsellor or therapist (Friend breakups are the worst – here’s how to handle them)
  16. Don’t spill secrets that the two of you once had. (8 Ways To Survive A Best Friend Breakup)
  17. Don’t look at their social media. Like most break ups, when you look at their social media you’ll see that they went out with a different group of girls and jealousy will strike. (8 Ways To Survive A Best Friend Breakup)

I promise it will get better. It takes time but healing will come. I’m not there yet but I know I will be. Just like when a relationship ends, this friends breakup won’t end the world. There are people who want to be there for you, even if it doesn’t seem like it. I’m here for you.

If you have your own tips for healing after a best friends breakup, please comment below. I’d love to read them! As always, thank you for coming to my blog! Hit the follow button to stay up to date on all things in the life.

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” ―Maya Angelou

Hello readers! Today will be a little different. I am in a fiction writing class this semester and one of our assignments is to write a short 5-page scene. I want to share with you what I have so far. I want to know what my readers think about what it is. What grade would you give me? What advice do you have to offer to make my story better? Just as a note, my teacher wanted us to base our story off of real life people. Also, he said that there doesn’t need to be a beginning, middle, and end so don’t fret about that, either. I look forward to reading your comments below.

Accidents Happen

             I still remember the day that I found out that my best friend and her daughter were hit by a car. I remember it like it was yesterday. The memories haunt me every day; I always think about how one small thing could have changed everything, either for the good or for the bad. The memories always start off ok, always starting with the moments before I even knew what had happened.

“Community College has so many class options but not enough online, I just need a few more classes and I could graduate in a year. Too bad a lot of the ones I have left are either hybrid or face-to-face classes, huh?” I said to my brindle colored pug, Ramsey, as I was looking at what classes I wanted to, or at least could, take in the spring. He had just jumped up in my lap and settled there all comfortable and ready for a nap.

I had just moved 4 hours away from the college I was attending and I was taking as many online courses as I could before I had to transfer, in the summer, to the local college by my new home in the big city. “Maybe I’ll call Misha and she can give me some guidance, since she has a degree. Or she could at least listen to me go on and on about how annoying it is that I can’t take in-person courses and finish my degree on time.” Ramsey barked as if to say that my idea was a great one. Honestly, when is it every a bad idea to talk to your best friend about your life decisions?

I settled down on my fluffy couch, wrapped in my fresh out of the dryer blanket, with my computer, open to the list of web only course options on Web advisor, in front of me then picked up my phone to dial Misha’s number. My registration date was fast approaching and I needed to figure this all out fast. The phone rang several times, then, right before the last ring, a soft voice could be heard on the other line. I was so glad to have someone to talk to, other than Ramsey. Don’t get me wrong, he was a great listener, but sometimes it’s nice to talk to someone who can respond back with words instead of just kisses and barks.

“Hey best friend!” I was super excited to talk about school, especially since it was what we were talking about the day before. “This is Lidia, Misha’s mom, she and Colleen were hit by a car this morning while they were walking to daycare.” The phone slipped out of my hand with a crash, onto the floor. I was trembling and tears began to stream down my pale face.. Ramsey began barking wildly, as he knew something was wrong, and began nudging my messy blond hair from the couch. It took me all but several seconds to realize Misha’s mom was calmly calling for me through the phone, I heard my name being said several times before it actually registered in my brain. Finally I came-to and picked the phone back up off the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I was at a loss for words. Was my best friend of eleven years gone? And her little one-year-old daughter; was she gone as well? I needed answers; I needed to be there. Why was I still sitting on the couch in my little 500 square foot apartment, almost four hours away? I had a car; I had the ability to travel from my apartment to the hospital where she was, hopefully still alive. I hadn’t ever done it before because my husband was always the one driving but I needed to be there to see Misha for myself. I had to know that she was still here, I couldn’t lose her. Not this way. I couldn’t lose another loved one. I especially couldn’t lose another loved one due to reckless drivers. Would God take away everyone I cared about in the same way? How could this have happened, again?

My thoughts were almost drowning out what Misha’s mom was saying to me over the phone. My thoughts had slowed down enough to understand when Lidia had said “Misha is ok, she’s awake. She has multiple broken bones and swelling but she’ll be alright. She’s the one who told me to answer your call. She must have a specific ringtone for you because she knew it was you calling right away.” There was a small sigh of relief amidst all of my sniffling and tears. She also informed me of Colleen’s condition “Colleen is fine, there are no broken bones and she should, hopefully, be discharged later in the day.” The more words I caught, the less frantic I was feeling. By the end of our conversation, which was rather short, my tears weren’t flowing as heavily but I still wasn’t able to settle down.

I paced the studio apartment several times before deciding to log onto Facebook and write something about how I was feeling. I didn’t think Misha wanted everyone to know just yet, or ever, so I simply made a vague post stating that a close friend and her daughter were hit by a car and that they needed prayers and thoughts of healing. Not too obvious but anyone who knew Misha would know it was her, I was sure of it. Not too long after hitting the “post” button did two other friends, Mary and Melody, know exactly who it was and Melody quickly sent me the official article that was posted, hours ago, about the accident. I hadn’t even thought to see if there was already anything in the news. I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and began reading. According to the news report, both Misha and Colleen were in critical care and fighting for their lives. Even though I knew this to be false, and that they were both ok, it had me freaking out all over again. I read on, though, wanting more information. I found a couple of other articles on Facebook along with a few photos. They all stated different excuses for why the driver hit Misha. “I bet he was texting and made a whole slew of excuses as to not get in trouble.” I said, angrily, to Ramsey. I kept reading the article over and over, thinking I had missed something. “The driver was a nineteen year old girl who had friends in the car. The driver didn’t see the woman crossing in the cross walk but the passengers all saw her and tried to warn the driver when it was too late. The driver didn’t even stop until her windshield was broken from the impact of the child’s body.” I kept imagining little Colleen’s body, smashing into the window then rolling to the ground. I didn’t want to read any more of what was said but I couldn’t help it. It was drawing me to it. And seeing those pictures. One of them was actually of Misha lying in the road, bloody and broken, underneath the car. Another photo showed the medical personal putting Colleen in the ambulance.

I then began reading the comments. “She deserved to be hit, she’s a horrible mother.” “She obviously didn’t love her child if she put her in that much danger.” “She doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” I was furious with every comment I read. My face was getting hot, I felt the world getting darker and the sounds of the big city were growing farther away. They had no idea what the situation was or what kind of mother she was. How could they be so harsh without having all of the facts or without knowing what kind of person she truly is? No one deserves what happened to Misha, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, not even my worst enemy. She was the best mom I knew, she was my best friend. I kept thinking, “I can’t lose her, I just can’t lose my best friend. I still need her in my life. She doesn’t deserve to die. She needs to be here for her daughter.”

I finally realized I was blacking out, as I was standing for a long time with my knees locked and hadn’t had a lot to drink. I quickly headed for the bed, where I had a collage of photos, several with Misha in them. I zoned out while staring at them, replaying the memories in my head. “What if memories are all I have left?” I stared at the pictures of us so happy. There we were on the school bus, her red hair was flowing because all of the windows were down. Another one of us, my favorite, was taken outside the theater while we were in line waiting for the premier of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. We had just graduated a couple months before that, and Misha still had short hair from when she donated it all to Locks of Love. I still had braces and my hair was dark from when I decided to dye it brown. The most recent picture was taken when Misha spent a week with us over the summer. We did so much in that week; we took the metro for the first time, I got my first real sunburn from our time at the beach, we went to an AMC movie theater where they have reclining chairs instead of the uncomfortable ones we usually sat in. The picture was from our time on the Metro, Misha was making an “Oh my gosh, we’re going to get lost on this thing!” kind of face and I was just reading the maps to figure out where we were and where we needed to be. I didn’t want to scare her but we really could be lost already and we had only left ten minutes ago.

I was deep in thought when the sound of the door shutting made me jump. My husband, Philip, was home and he sat next to me as I burst into tears again, explaining exactly what had happened and how I was feeling. He just held me as I sobbed in his arms. My best friend was, according to the articles, near death and I wasn’t there. She could be dead by now. I would hope that someone would have contacted me but I knew that there would be so many other things to worry about. “Tara, how about we take a walk. Maybe get some fresh air. I think getting out of the house would do some good for your mind.”

I agreed on taking a walk so I slowly got up and got dressed. I felt so depressed and like a horrible friend for not rushing to Misha’s side. However, driving that far alone for the first time and in this weather in my state of mind would not have been the best idea. Melody was the one who pointed out how stupid it would be. “We don’t need another person in the hospital.” She was right, I needed to wait. Philip and I would just drive up there after he got off of work on Friday afternoon and head that way. I needed patience. All I could do was pray that she and Colleen would heal and that they would be ok in the end. I knew it would be, Misha was a strong woman, as was Colleen. They had wonderful people to be there for them and the support of many more.

As always, thank you for coming to my blog. I hope you have a great day!

EDIT (Feb 8, 2017): I am posting my classmates’ comments below.

“The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it.” — Rafiki

I have been doing a lot of reflecting these last few months. If you read my very first blog post you will know that my childhood was rough. There’s no denying it. Being dragged around all over by my sex driven, drunken, drugged up mom was only part of it. Being shipped away to Arizona with people I didn’t know where a lot of physical abuse happened was probably the best thing she could have done because that’s when I was able to be “rescued” by the most wonderful and selfless people I have ever had the pleasure to know….that would be my grandparents. As soon as they found out what my mother had done and exactly where it was that she had sent me, they set out to pick me up. It was my grandma’s birthday, September 23, 1999 and I was seven years old. I was a gangly little girl who had no self-confidence and thought she was the dumbest person in the world. It was a very dark time, in deed.

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These are my wonderful grandparents who gave so much yet received so little.

Because of my past and refusing to be more open with my grandparents, I was put in therapy. I know what you’re thinking, “Therapy is for crazy people. What am I doing reading a crazy person’s blog?” Well, a lot of people go to therapy and it’s not always because they are crazy. I was a neglected, abused, scared, and confused little girl and I needed help. I, of course, didn’t realize I needed the help but my grandma always knew best. I went to see my therapist shortly after I went to live with my grandparents, I loved her but at first I was very shy. She never would pry, she only asked a few questions and listened to me play. I loved playing with the doll house and stuffed animals she had, they were my favorite. Slowly but surely I began opening up. I never told anyone everything that happened to me in the past but I opened up more than I had and I began to understand how it had hurt me in the long run.

(Here is an interesting read for you on child play therapy Play Therapy for Abused and Traumatized Children: A Bibliography)

My grandparents did all they could to help me, though. My aunt put me in modeling classes through the community that are meant to help build confidence and I did it twice, I loved every moment of it. I even have pictures to prove it! I wish I still had that confidence in myself but most days it’s hard.

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This is my favorite out of all of my modeling pictures. I was in 5th grade.

In 2009, 10 years after being “recused” by my grandparents, my life fell apart once more. I was at school when my grandparents and an aunt and uncle were going on a trip to see my youngest cousin graduate Kindergarten. I couldn’t go because I had finals and in high school you can’t really skip those or you’ll risk failing the class. At the end of the day, I had a crazy amount of missed phone calls on my cell, which we aren’t allowed to use at school. All of these calls were from my brothers. I immediately thought something was wrong with my niece, who was born only a month before, or my nephew, who was a few years old. I called both of them back several times when the younger of the two answered and I was so worried. I remember his words so clearly “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this but grandma, grandpa, Doyle, and Cindy were in an accident. Grandpa and Doyle were air evaced to Springfield. We’re not sure if they are going to make it. Grandma and Cindy are ok, though.” The bus ride home was the LONGEST ride of my life. My best friend Dakota was there for me, though. He helped me when I needed someone the most.

Dakota
This is Dakota, he helped me a lot my Sophomore year. We were both new to the school and he was a great friend to me.

Within a month, I lost both of my grandparents and the realization of moving away was setting in. I hated it. I did it, though. I knew my family loved me and wanted the best for me but I struggled. I still struggle.

After high school, I moved out on my own because my family was moving away and I didn’t want to go. I moved downtown and lived with a pretty awesome roommate. I was living an ok life. I knew I wasn’t happy though. Nothing made me happy. All of my friends could see it. I was encouraged to see a doctor and a therapist. Yes, again, I went to therapy. I went for a couple of months and I was put on antidepressants. I couldn’t tell my family, I couldn’t let them know because they would never approve, they never understood depression. I had to move back in with family due to some issues I was having at my apartment and I stopped taking my medicine.

I thought I was happy, I did. I went without any antidepressants for over a year. Until I was about a year into my mission and I was put on them again. Of course, when I came home to my family, I stopped taking them because, like before, I knew they would never understand.

I am still struggling with taking them because I know there are so many people who don’t understand depression and the reason antidepressants are important but I know I need to take them. I am currently starting them up again and I hope to stick with it this time, for as long as I need them. It’s not good to continue to get on and off of them, especially when you don’t talk to a doctor about it.

If you feel like you have serious depression, you should seek help. Not everyone will understand but we all need to learn to take care of ourselves. Never discount the way you feel just because your family thinks you have a good life or because you see that other people have it worse. Depression is a chemical imbalance and there are many medications that will help. I will post more on depression later.

I wanted to share my story with you because I know that if I help just one person, I have done my job. Thank you for reading. Please know that you’re not alone, even if you feel like it at times. You can even drop a comment here and I will be sure to help you in any way I can.

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