Posted in Anxiety, Depression, My Dogs

How Dogs Saved My Life. Saved Me From Myself.

When I was a little boy, my mother and father had many different animals over the coarse of my 6-7 years before they got their divorce. These animals were always the pets of other people who lived with us, that my little sister and I were forced to take care of. My father, being a rather horrible person at the time that loved alcohol more than his own children, would give animals away that we had gotten attached to and while drunk- he would tell us horror stories.

For instance, my sister and I once took care of a pair of fluffy black and white rabbits. We took care of their cages, called them Sniffles and Fluffy, and raised them  since they were tiny little things. We did chores to earn money to pay for their food, their cages, their toys, and the supplies required to bathe them. However, when they were fully grown, my father got rid of them. To this day, we still have no idea what really happened to them, but the night he got rid of them, he told us over dinner that he killed them, and we were eating them for dinner.

I tell you this horror story because that’s where my fear of getting a pet for myself stemmed from. Where my anxiety and depression festered and brewed as a young child. I had an alcoholic father systematically terrorizing my love of animals, telling me they left or died in cruel or heartless ways. Years after my mother divorced my father, she decided to take me to the pound and look for a puppy. He was a fluffy white border collie, with a light coffee creme colored fur everywhere except for his paws and around his eyes which made him look like he wore goggles. I fell in love and we adopted him within a week. Robbie was taken in to be my best friend in 6th grade. As someone who switched schools nearly every year, he was my confidant. My best friend. Someone who I could talk to, who wouldn’t judge me. Someone who was just happy to have me around.

However, my friendship was short lived with Robbie. During that summer vacation we had a horrible storm that had torn down our backyard fence in the middle of the night. I let him out, not knowing of the damage during the evening, and when I went to the back door to let him back in to go to bed with me, he never came. I never saw him again. I spent weeks looking for him. My heart was broken. I vowed to never get a pet again when my mother sat me down and said that there was nothing we could do, and she had given up hope of finding him. I never wanted to feel that pain again. That heart break.

On June 6th, 2006, after seeing the movie “The Omen” in theaters with my friends from high school, my mother picked me up from school. Already I knew something was off because she worked full time as a bartender in order to support her two children; this meant that she was always working by the time we got off of school, but since my depression had gotten worse and worse at home my mother attempted to surprise me with a puppy. She hadn’t told me where we were going or what we were doing until I started to panic when we took a back road outside of town near the old Hansen’s gas station. When we had parked the car in front of a run down home that looked like I could’ve blown on it to knock it over like the wolf blowing the hay house from the three little pigs story, my mom and revealed that she met a customer at her work who told her that he was selling sheep dogs but wanted to give it to her for free because of my situation.

I remember arguing with her in the car, telling her that I would never get another pet in my life. Crying. Remembering that pain that I had gone through so many times as a child.

 

My mother made me a deal, like all intelligent and manipulating mothers do. A simple deal, that if I walked over, saw all of the puppies and didn’t fall in love with any of them, we would turn around and go home. I stupidly agreed, like all ignorant pigheaded children who believe they can outsmart their mothers, thinking that my mom was a fool and my heart was a solid chunk of ice.

That day around 4PM June 6, 2006, I walked into a chain link fenced backyard to puppies clamoring all over me. 6 medium McNabb/Kelpie dark cocoa puppies clamored over one another, each trying to lick my face. Each trying to jump on my legs. Each attempting to show as much affection to the intruder as possible.

At this time in my childhood, I had already started to have an issue with my weight. I was nearly 200lbs, and I was a Sophomore in high school. I mention this because at that time, my self esteem was in the toilet. I loved to eat food.

As I was standing there, being a grumpy teenager, fighting back my hatred of my mother for putting me in this situation and my anger towards my father for how I was raised, I looked across the yard to see that the mother of these pups was trotting back and forth, clearly agitated. I initially thought it was because a stranger was near her puppies, but when I looked closer, I noticed that the mother was distracted and agitated because there was this extremely overweight white, cocoa, and toffee colored ball shaped puppy constantly trying to feed from her, completely ignoring the yard’s new guest.

The only way I can describe the feeling I felt at that time…is connection. I leveled with that pet mentally and physically. My heart made of ice began to melt. As it melted, the surplus water began trickling from my eyes. I pushed the pups at my feet away, and crept towards the food oriented ball of fur as if I were in some zombie like trance. He hadn’t noticed me sneak right behind him, and did nothing but try to wiggle free to get back to eating as I picked him up and hugged him, crying into his neck. When I sobbed for the first time, he stopped wiggling, turned towards me, and licked my tears.

 

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Fast forward- I moved out of my mom’s house when I was 18. I got a job in a nearby town and lived in the world’s tiniest 1 bedroom house that I shared with a roommate, because it had a fully fenced yard. It was my space. Well, Mine and the not so little puffball which I had named Rolo. Since he looked like he had done nothing but consume the caramel candies that his coloring matched since birth. I met a man that moved into the tiny house in place of my roommate, and (in thanks to Rolo my opinion) managed to fall in love with him. This man, Patrick, was the first man I had ever dated that treated my dog as his own. I remember falling in love with Patrick when he came home from work one night and bent down on his knees and kissed Rolo’s head while talking to him in a goofy voice asking the dog how his day was.

After a year or so of dating Patrick, I learned that he had never had a pet growing up, due to a similar upbringing with his parents. This is when I immediately looked up a beagle puppy for sale down in Oakland, California- a dog he’s always wanted but never got. We went down south, paid for this white colored dog, who was nursing from his Beagle mother. It wasn’t until nearly 3 months later that we noticed the little rat dog we called Chance, never grew bigger than a Chihuahua and started turning to a slight brown color. He was the only one of the litter who managed to end up getting his father’s genes that….was a Chihuahua. However, my boyfriend had fallen in love with his new baby, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.

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While we were going through the process of getting Chance, which was SUPPOSE to be a Beagle, I informed Patrick that I had always wanted a Saint Bernard. I had seen YouTube videos of them, researched them, thought about getting one, but never actually followed through with it. Patrick surprised me by getting the cash and driving me down to a breeder in Oakland (surprisingly), the week that we had found out chance was half Chihuahua. We picked up the baby girl and named her Kira.

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One year later, the woman called us and told us that her Saint Bernard had puppies and she wanted one of them to go to a great home. After a short talk with Patrick- he decided to add to our family, and we made the trip yet again to southern California.

 

With every dog I have gotten, I became a better person. I started to overcome the childhood trauma I had gone through. I honestly feel as though every dog had lead me to another stage in my life right when I needed to transition to it.

 

With Rolo, he made it possible for me to not give up on Love.

With Chance, he taught me that some things in life you put up with things that annoy you, because it makes others that you do love happy.

With Kira, she made me realize that there is another human being out there who loved me as much as I loved them.

With our fourth dog, Brodie, I finally felt as though we had a family.

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While they are the reason my trashcan foot pedal for my kitchen trashcan doesn’t work anymore. While they are the reason I am scratched and bruised every time I trim their nails. While they are the reason I trip because they feel the need to lay right behind me as I prepare dinner. While they are the reason we have to sweep daily. While they are the reason there is dried drool on the wall. While they are the reason pieces of kibble are dropped all over the kitchen because for some reason they can’t eat over the food dish and I step on it in the dark while getting a glass of water at night:

They were the reason I made my relationship with Patrick work through the tough times. They were the reason I wanted to do well at my job and make a decent amount of money (so I could afford a bigger place for them). They were the reason why my love of my boyfriend, turned into the love of my husband.

They are the reason why I giggle to throw a ball down the hall. They are the reason I stick to schedules via feeding, watering, and bathing them. They are the reason I feel relatively prepared to adopt a child. They are the reason I fight through the mental block I have today.

These dogs brought me back from the brink of suicide. These dogs gave me hope. These dogs not only changed my life:

These dogs make me happy to be alive.

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Posted in Civilization VI, Dead By Daylight

Let’s Play Nubia #3 / Doctor Boot Camp

Let’s Play Nubia

 

   The One True Faith has been founded on Nubian soil. May others fear our might if they choose to not follow the glorious words of the Anti Navy Fuck Vikings.

 

Doctor Boot Camp

   My father and husband have severe issues attempting to land any skill checks against the doctor. They think he is the most difficult killer to go up against, and I believe that it is because they don’t really know what to do or how to play against him.

Posted in Anxiety, Dead By Daylight, Depression, Personal Accountability, Weight Loss Journey

When Mental Struggles Affect Weight

Hey there everyone, I am happy to let you know that things have gotten substantially better.
I have communicated with my husband about my mental illness. I have sought out help from professionals, and between a combination of therapy and medication, I have been able to once again feel like a productive person.

I no longer feel like I am a waste of space, or that the air I breathe is being wasted.

Also, we were approved as foster parents and have officially been licensed and our home is now recognized as a “Foster Care Facility”. Our social worker has done extensive interviews, and we have done intense training to ensure that not only am I prepared to have kids, but that we offer some kiddo a safe place. Our intention is to adopt a child in need, take them in, and give them the parenting we wish we received as children.

 

All of that stated, I am coming to the main update of my personal blog. My weight.

I started this health journey a few months ago and have struggled to find the will to work out, diet right, and firmly believe that the lack of energy I had to even get out of bed due to depression caused a lot of my health problems in regards to weight. I had originally started to realize I had a problem mentally when I hit 399lbs. A scary number that I never in my life thought I would get to.

Just I hopped on the scale yesterday and am happy to report that I have lost 42lbs, putting me at a current weight of 357lbs.

Now, for those interested, here is what I did.

1) I had to get myself in a better mental space. Every time I tried working out or dieting, my brain would look for reasons for me to fail. My depression would take over and drive me down into self doubt and loathing that I’d never thought possible. I got a hold of my doctor, received therapy, and have been prescribed Zoloft. I cannot urge you enough to get a hold of a doctor. Take mental illness seriously. Do not let yourself or others come up with some sort of excuse like “it’s all in my head” or “I can’t afford this”. At the end of the day you need to make yourself mentally capable. Mentally sound. Mentally fit. I can say with first hand experience that medication CAN work. Even if Zoloft doesn’t work for you, there are many medications out there that can influence mood and combat depression. Keep searching, and get the help you need to start taking care of yourself.

 

2) Once I was mentally stable enough to not give up on everything I tried doing within a week- Exercise, Diet, College, etc: I focused on my second biggest problem: Diet.

The world Diet itself, used to make me sad and depressed. I mean, it has the word DIE in it.

The biggest thing I can recommend here is that you need to be honest and hold yourself accountable. I know that I can eat an entire large Domino’s pizza by myself. Is that something I am ashamed of? No. I fucking love pizza. What I can say, is that I no longer eat 3 large pizzas a week. I order pizza no more than twice a month, and I have also started ordering one large pizza, with my limit at a half, while my husband can eat the other half or save some for his lunch at work the next day. In short, DON’T cut things that you love to eat out of your life. Cut it back, dial it down, but do not remove it. It will completely destroy your desire to diet and lose weight. You know what I am talking about. You tell yourself, “Just one Girl Scout Cookie,” and then the next thing you know, the whole box is gone because you didn’t just take one cookie and put the box up, instead you took the box with you to the couch and you’re hating yourself for being a pig.

The next thing I had to admit to myself about dieting is that I hate prepping meals for the week. While that works for other people, I CANNOT sit there, cook for an hour or so, and then spend my week eating cold as hell meals that had to be reheated in the microwave or oven. I get completely annoyed and disgusted. Maybe I don’t want the same thing every night, or maybe I simply changed my mind last minute because something else looked better, or I wanted to get something from the store because I was feeling creative in the kitchen.

To combat this:

I started buying food I knew I loved. I love fried chicken. I love Pork Chops. I love Steak. I love Beef.

So what did I do for chicken? I buy a pack of bone in chicken legs at our local grocery store, separate them into meal portions for my husband and I (2 legs each) and stick them into the freezer portioned. From there, if my husband or I feel like chicken for dinner, I will grab a portioned package from the freezer and toss it into the fridge to thaw for the next dinner.

For pork chops, if they are thicker, we do the same thing but one each and if it is a thinner chop we do 2 a piece. Same for steaks.

For the ground beef, we separate into medium sized rolls in different Ziploc bags for the freezer. The reasoning for that, is that we also pair a portioned package of ground beef with one or two bags of frozen stir fry vegetables from the store. Then we take 1 cup of brown rice (uncooked), and cook it. We mix all three ingredients to make a tasty stir fry.

Generally for vegetables we can get a bag of salad from the store or heat a frozen bag to be a side for other meats.

For out starch, we love potatoes and we love brown rice. The rice is pretty straight forward in how to prepare and can taste different depending on soy sauce or different seasoning (which goes for anything we cook really), but the potatoes are where we have a little fun. We can choose to mash them, cube them and bake them, thin slices and add cheese for au gratin, or make french fries in our deep fryer. We could even grate them for hash browns if we are feeling up to it.

That makes up most of our dinners, which can vary greatly depending on what we use or what seasonings we choose. I mean, tonight we made burgers.

The difference between my diet previously (3 large pizzas a week, taco bell, wendys, etc) and now is completely different. I mean, we still have one or two nights a week where we treat ourselves out, but most nights we get to spend together at our kitchen table, talking about our day.

 

3) Exercise.

I fucking hate exercise.

I don’t know about you, but I severely hate exercising in public. I get self conscious and start worrying about what my body looks like to others rather than doing the very best I can to get the most efficient work out. So while I still pay for a membership, I keep facing that personal fear every single time I considered heading to the gym. I then make the excuse that it is too much work for me to get showered and dressed for only a 30 minute workout and a drive all the way across town.

From there I decided that I would do T25 at home. The problem with that, is that in order to do T25 or other home workout videos, I have to again get myself mentally prepared to do it because exercise fucking sucks. It’s not the most fun thing to do, to turn on your television, pop in the disc, and listen to some super buff or fit person reminding you how overweight you are. Don’t get me wrong, T25 does have Sean T, and he is really nice about it, but it gets rather annoying that a skinny person constantly tells you something isn’t hard when you are carrying 200lbs more than them, and feel every step/jump you do much harder because of it.

So, I decided to be honest with myself and find something I have always wanted to do, but never really went for, because of my depression and insecurities. I started doing yoga. It’s low impact, which is a must because of my snapped knee ligament in my right knee. Also, I can get a great work out from doing 30 second poses that are designed for beginners. I’ve been doing it for a while and have doubled my pose holding time from 30 seconds to a minute, and am doing a total of 36 poses. I am starting to get strength in my legs, and feel less wobbly every day that I do it. The best thing about doing Yoga? My husband has found that he rather enjoys it because he chose to join in on a whim. He went and bought a yoga mat and we do Yoga together every day when he gets off of work. While he is much skinnier than me, he is nowhere near as flexible, so it is rather funny to see him struggle getting into positions and poses that I find relatively easy, which also makes me feel better about exercising.

 

In summary, you need to take care of your mind before you can focus on your body. The biggest thing you can do in regards to that is be honest. Be honest that mental illness is a real thing and that it is kicking your ass. Once you get your mental space fixed or on track, you need to be honest with yourself and address your eating habits and make baby steps to change them for the better. Finally, you have to be honest with yourself in order to find an exercise routine that makes you feel better and refreshed afterwards.

 

Thanks for letting me rant to you about my personal update. I still play video games and have recently started a YouTube channel where I post almost daily, videos of myself and my family playing games that we love together on the PS4 and computer. Feel free to subscribe here or there in order to keep connected.

Sincerely,

That Mental Fight

-Aerick Kerrick / Blaine Frazier

YouTube Channel

 

Posted in Uncategorized

Update -What Went Wrong 

Hey everyone. I know I haven’t posted in a while. 

I have to be completely honest. My depression hit an all time low. I woke up one morning and couldn’t get out of bed. I hated everything. Well, I guess hate isn’t the right word for what I’m trying to express. Maybe the better way to explain it is more of a distrust. I didn’t trust my life. I felt out of place, as if I was something that felt wrong. There we go, that’s maybe a better way to put it. I felt like I was wrong. Wrong for this world, the wrong owner of our dogs, the wrong person for my husband. Just wrong.
I started to consider how family and friends would be better off without me.

I felt like the very air I was breathing in was being wasted. That even something as simple and precious as oxygen- was being wasted on me being alive. 

I didn’t leave my bed until my husband came home. I was terrified of myself. Terrified that if I had left the safety of the blankets, that I’d find some way to harm myself.
When my husband came home, he found me in the bedroom crying. He talked it through with me and did his best to try and lift my spirits. To assure me that I am worth something and that I mean something to him at the very least.
We talked about why I was feeling this way. Anything I could possibly be depressed about and even talked about my childhood growing up.
After nearly 6 hours of talking, my husband made me realize that I am not okay. I can’t try and pretend that I am.

My brain is messed up, and I needed help. I immediately scheduled an appointment with my doctor and told her what had happened. She prescribed me Zoloft, due to my previous attempts to overcome depression clearly not working.

I’ve been on the medication for a while now and thank goodness it is working. I don’t feel down. My frustration with myself has left. 

I’m not going to say I dont get sad, but I definitely have never felt that dark side of me coming back. I feel like that self loathing part of my brain is being battled by the medication, and I can finally breathe again.

I’ve also recently started seeing a therapist who helped me realize and confront one of the reasons that I’ve felt so down and depressed. 

As a gay man I thought that coming out would stop me from ever raising children. My talks with my sister about her wanting to start a family and try for a baby over the past few months have unfortunately forced me to open up and address the fact that I felt inadequate or less than another man because I would never be a father.
My therapist helped me realize that I’ve been ridiculous in thinking that way because we still have adoption to consider. Even surrogacy. Children were never out of the way for us as a gay couple, but when I was a kid coming to terms with my sexuality, I just assumed that was out of the question.

We have contacted our local foster agency, and have done the training and paperwork to become a foster care facility. We hope to be placed with a child and adopt within a year. 

We can have a family, and I can get the medical help I desperately needed. Mental Illness is a real and dangerous thing, and I can’t stress enough how important it is for people to speak up. To find another human being and seek help.

Posted in Anxiety, Depression, Memories

How Anxiety Almost Terminated My Marriage

Past relationships are always a hard thing to talk about. Whether you talk to a partner about them, or a family member, or even a stranger. You always get that feeling that they aren’t going to understand what you went through, and more often than not, you are met with someone that tries to downplay your feelings. I can’t tell you how many times people respond with, “Why didn’t you just leave?”

Some of us don’t. Some of us stay in that abusive relationship because it is something we’ve always known. I’ve always experienced a father who threw dishes at me since I was 6. I always experienced that alcohol made someone pick a child off the ground and throw them into the wall, or on the couch. I’ve always experienced that feeling like you are constantly walking on egg shells, expecting the worst to happen.

So when I met Cory, I expected nothing more. He was the first person I gave in to. The first person I fell in love with. The first person I went out publicly with, and the first person I started sharing my past with. It didn’t start out abusive. It started like most romances do, butterflies and hand holding. Cuddling late into the night, talking. Somewhere over the course of our dating relationship, he stopped paying for meals. He stopped wanting to hold hands publicly. He started getting angry for things that were out of my control. Things like our landlord not fixing the heater faster than four days. Things like that would always end with me being reminded how stupid I was. How useless I was. How ugly I was. When the words didn’t make me cry, out would come the fists, or the slapping. I’d been beaten so much as a child that I was almost numb to it. At the end of every day, Cory would always come back and tell me he loved me and that he was sorry. I was helpless. I was a scared mouse, happy to have found someone who would always forgive me for my mistakes, always stuck in that terrifying mouse trap. Notice that my mistakes were hardly anything I was doing, just merely existing. Abusive people twist your mind and make you thankful for them. That staying with them is the best thing that’s ever happened to you because without them you are nothing but a pile of garbage. You begin to think this is what love is. Then one day I found out that he slept with his ex. Cory cheated, and when I confronted him, he told me he was poly-amorous. Essentially able to love multiple people through sex- was his definition. He apologized and said he loved me, and I believed him until after nearly 3 months of him cheating and coming back to apologize did the light bulb in my head finally turn on. We terminated our relationship immediately when I stopped being that terrified mouse. The little rodent that would always take his apologies like they were the words of god. I wasn’t his little pet or puppet anymore.

Years later I meet my (now) husband, Patrick. We fall in love. We have our ups, and our downs. Once in a blue moon we have  our verbal fights, but we have never laid hands on one another in anger. He has always listened about my past with Cory, and hugged me through the nightmares, the tears as I eventually overcame the abuse. I made an effort to find my father, to get to know him and overcome the fears I had as a child. Patrick made me feel whole again. He made everything from my childhood, my being raped, by broken relationship from my father, and my past relationships better. He made me better. So when gay marriage became legal in California, we went and immediately got married, that week, in the courthouse. It was small, with just 6 people from my side of the family, but it was beautiful. I’ll never forget the way he smiled at me as I tried to repeat my vows from the pastor through tears and stutters.

We had been married for nearly two years before we started to experiment with things inside the bedroom. It’s not as if we were bored of our usual encounter, but we had just become so comfortable with each other, we started telling each other about certain fantasies. Eventually we both agreed that we would like to try having someone else in the bedroom with us. So we picked someone out together, invited them over, things heated up, and eventually the night came and went. The next morning after the third wheel left, we decided that this was something that wasn’t for us. We liked our bedroom stuff better when it was just us. I don’t mean to put down others at all, but this was just something we both felt. We felt as though it was less intimate with someone else, and the residual feelings that I had from my past relationship with Cory had started to creep back. The feeling and fear that I would be cheated on. I was honest with Patrick about my fears after we came to the conclusion that we liked it being just the two of us, and he assured me nothing would happen unless I was there with him and comfortable.

 

So, we were happy. We hadn’t had anything major happen in our marriage since, it was beautiful and peaceful. Until last week when Patrick was sitting in bed with me and asked if I remembered our third wheel. I had told him yes and asked why he was brought up, for I had not thought about that guy in a while. Patrick then went on to tell me that he had been talking to him for a little while, and the third wheel was telling him about being a caregiver. Third wheel apparently went on to tell my husband that a caregiver was someone who would provide financially and sexually, all the things that they needed.

Immediately the fears of cheating came back to me. I never forbid Patrick from talking to anyone, and tried to trust him. I never wanted to be that person in a relationship who asked to see his phone or text messages. However, the way I was feeling made me ask to read the message to see the context in which it was presented because the whole conversation took me right back to how I felt when I was cheated on by Cory.

Reading over the messages, I saw how Third Wheel was constantly hinting towards my husband about being sexual. How he was shifting the conversation slightly by asking sexual questions here or there. Patrick would always respond with, “my husband and I do this,” or things to similar effect, but when Patrick typed those responses back, Third Wheel would come back with, “Oh that’s turning me on.”

I kept reading these messages back and forth until I got past the caregiver section, and when I got to the bottom after Third Wheel explained what a caregiver was, I saw the words from my husband say, “Do you want me to be that for you?”

Immediately my heart was broken. It hurt so bad to see something like that, because I was reading that as Patrick offering. Patrick offering to be something like that for someone else and nobody had talked to me about anything beforehand. I took that as cheating. Especially because of what happened to me in my past relationship.

 

I immediately told Patrick how I felt and when he reached out to me, I pushed his hand away and started crying. I hit a super low point. Immediately my anxiety and depression came in, and I felt those feelings surging back. The feeling of being that terrified mouse. Waiting to be hit, to be slapped, to be called names, to feel the pain, and then hear the apology. Patrick tried to say that he didn’t mean for it to come across that way and he was sorry, but I screamed at him that he sounded just like Cory. That his apology was garbage and that it didn’t matter what the intent was because it’s what happened.

At the end of the day, he sent someone a message about sexual things, and Third Wheel responded with, “that’s turning me on.” Which seemed like key words to me, about where a conversation was going. I cried for hours, and Patrick cried alongside me. We talked back and forth, and he assured me he didn’t mean anything by it. That he was just learning what a caregiver was and was confused because it seemed like Third Wheel was wanting him to be that. Patrick said when he asked if that’s what Third Wheel wanted him to be, it wasn’t because he was offering, but Patrick was just trying to make it clear as to what the intent was.

It’s taken me days to get over it. I clocked Third Wheel on facebook. I told Patrick that I couldn’t handle them talking or messaging each other anymore. Patrick has respected my feelings. Patrick has assured me that he didn’t mean it to seem like he was propositioning someone outside of our marriage. He said he knows how I went through an abusive relationship, and if I have to be that crazy spouse that wants to check his phone, to simply ask and take it. He said he has nothing to hide and wants to be married to me. That he wants to grow old with me. Have kids with me. That he’s simply too damn old and tired as he is now to even try and play those cheating games.

I know what he is saying is the truth, but it’s hard when you’ve grown up like this. When you went through abuse throughout your whole childhood from an alcoholic with a bad temper. It’s hard when you’ve been raped by someone you trusted, to overcome the anxiety that keeps you from feeling safe or trusting someone again. It’s hard to not feel like someone is going to cheat on you again when you went through that already with someone in the past. Luckily, I found someone who is empathetic with the way that I feel. I can only hope more people are out there like Patrick, and that those empathetic individuals find those out there that are broken, like me.

I hope that others mend themselves, and are able to get over those bumps in the road, built by the past. I know today was a rant and it has been a while since I’ve done an update, but this is where my mind has been the past week. This is what I have been trying to overcome mentally.

I feel better, and Patrick texts me multiple times throughout his work period, talking to me about his shift, what he wants for dinner, and even the cutesy things like complimenting me, or saying he misses me. I just feel so stupid for letting my past relationships, and past experiences almost terminate our marriage. Almost ruin something so good, pure and beautiful.

 

If you managed to make it all of the way through my jumbled text rant from my brain, I am:

1) Sorry

2) Thankful for all the kind words that people have sent me. I know I am a little broken, but this blog and the kind words from different readers whether it be in the comments or getting emails, means a lot. I genuinely appreciate you kind souls out there.

Posted in Dead By Daylight, Game Review

Review of “Dead By Daylight” – PS4

My first experience of this game was sitting my by bed, surrounded by darkness, with my face illuminated as I watched Jesse Cox and his friends run around as a killer, murdering the survivors and wiggling free from the killers grasp.
Initially it had me giggling, and it seemed fun, probably due to the group of friends joking together and playing around, even though the situation is literally playing with the idea of someone playing as a slasher psycho from some sort of horror movie.

I had talked to my husband and my sister periodically about the game since seeing the video, and we’ve investigated reviews little by little on YouTube.

Yesterday, my husband and I decided that we would purchase the game, and in order to convince my sister, I brought it to her house for her to give it a shot.

We took turns, lurking in the brush, hiding amongst the trees; it wasn’t long before we were screaming at the television, running away from a man with a chainsaw, or a madman doctor that kept electrocuting us.

We decided immediately that we were both hooked and as the night started, and all four of our consoles were ready, we logged into the game.

 

The Concept:

The general idea is good versus evil. A group of up to four campers are placed around the map with the goal of repairing three or more generators. Once the required number of generators are repaired, two exits are added to the map – one on either side. A small twist however, is that a survivor must channel opening the door via a button or lever system directly next to the exit. Once channeled, the door is open for any survivor to run past and leave the zone, unable to return, but given points for surviving the encounter and the ability to keep the items they found or started with.

While all of that is going on, you are placed in the map with someone playing as the killer. The killer is unknown to the group of survivors until they are met on the map face to face. The killer is unable to be destroyed, but generally moves slower than survivors. Especially when it comes to the drop-able barriers, and moving through windows or jumping over fallen logs. The killer is a being with one motivation, to please the “Entity” by killing all survivors. Generally each survivor has about 2 hit points. Getting struck once drops you down to one health, which causes you to bleed, stumble, and/or run slower than normal. The injured survivor also breathes louder and grunts in pain in this state. Once survivors are struck in this state, they are dropped onto their stomachs with essentially “0” hit points, crawling for their lives.

If another player manages to get to them before the killer picks them up, the crawling survivor is then able to hobble as if they had 1 health again. However, if the killer picks up a near death survivor, they are able to hoist their bodies onto one of many hooks stationed throughout the map. Survivors are then given a slowly depleting health bar that once depleted- they are immediately “sacrificed” and removed from the map.

Survivors can get to an ally and remove them from the hook, giving them the chance to hobble away as if they once again had “1 hit point”.

There are things in the game such as med kits, and toolboxes which make healing an option for injured survivors and speeds up the process on repairing generators.

 

There are also many…MANY…”perks” or abilities you can equip on killers and survivors, in order to customize the way you would like to play the game. Whether given the ability to see allies through walls, run faster to escape the killer, or to instantly kill crawling survivors without the need of placing them on a hook.

Dead by Daylight has a selection of survivors available, each with their own talents and traits; in addition to a variety of killers which increase the replay value of the game immensely. Add in to the fact that their are MANY maps, which make learning the ins and outs of each map (hiding locations, generator locations, things to jump over and walls to place) every game quickly ends up feeling relatively unique to the previous ones played.

However, there are some issues with the game itself that can affect the “fun” aspect of Dead by Daylight.

Dead by Daylight has some seriously annoying coop play. You can go into the mode of “Kill Your Friends” which allows you to select one of your friends to be the killer while the others are survivors. An annoyance is that there is no tutorial that shows you how to switch between the roles, so my family of four kept leaving in between matches to open up a new lobby started by the player that wanted to be the killer.We learned after days of playing that when in that game mode you can select the “spectator” button, which immediately turns into the “killer” button. You can only change in between the three rolls, in that exact order. The game can bug when doing this, thinking there are two killers. It will let you start a match, but it has glitched and crashed the game every time we did it this way.

Dead by Daylight doesn’t let you gain “bloodpoints” when you play in the “Kill Your Friends” mode. This is rather frustrating because you can spend hours playing with friends, only to gain nothing for your games against random players in a public lobby.

Another frustration is that if you decide to choose the “Survive With Friends” game mode, up to 4 players are put into a group, then put into matchmaking. The most irritating thing about this, is that the matchmaking system does not seem to place you with people around the same skill level as you. Nor are you placed with people about the same level. We were constantly grouped with killers that were level 20 or higher, and had a HUGE advantage over us, which was even more annoying because most of our matches were played together, so we didn’t get the “experience” or “bloodpoints” to use in multiplayer. Then you have to add on the fact that there are NOT a lot of people wanting to play as the killer (for various reasons, some were similar to the complaints above- just revered for the killers Point of View) so we waited for 10 minutes at nearly every attempt to play in the “Survive With Friends” game mode.

The game has a decent connection at almost every attempt to play, and we barely deal with disconnects. However, there is a huge problem with a killer leaving if you are decent at hiding. It is extremely unfair that when a survivor leaves the game or disconnects, the killer gets a bonus to their score/experience. If a killer leaves, you “disconnect from host” and get nothing. No experience. No “Bloodpoints”. No score. Nothing.

 

All of the complaints aside- we spend hours playing this game, shrieking over our headsets because the thumping heartbeat when a killer is nearby, the exploding hag traps that pop out at you, the crazy chainsaw wielding hillbilly, teleporting nurse, and doctor that makes you hallucinate causes us to nearly crap ourselves. You are on a  constant adrenaline high, hiding from a killer, trying not to attract the killer while repairing generators, helping caught allies, and screaming for help when you are on a hook and about to die.

This game, for the price of $29.99 was definitely one of the better purchases we have ever made on the PlayStation 4. We have gotten hours of entertainment that never feels entirely boring, and even though there are bugs periodically that cause you to crash, and the matchmaking is entirely frustrating at times, you can barely ever stop the adrenaline coursing through your brain.

Every game leaves you in that fearful sweat or that intense level of focus as you are running through cornstalks, attempting to evade a man wielding bear traps.

I simply cannot recommend this game enough, and you can bet your ass we will be buying the Halloween DLC that adds “The Shape” (Micheal Myers from Halloween) killer to the fray.

If you are a horror buff or an adrenaline junkie, or simply love to goof off with friends, buy the game. Perhaps we will see you and scream for our lives together. Perhaps we will piss our pants at the same time. Perhaps you may be on the bloody end of our claws as we chase you through the night.

There is a lot I didn’t talk about in this game but rather than spoiling all of the content, I firmly believe you should buy this game and give it your best shot. With an open mind, you won’t be disappointed.

(Note- the hit point references are not a real thing, but some people understand when numbers are used, so THAT’S why it’s in here 😉 )

Buy for Xbox:
http://www.gamestop.com/xbox-one/games/dead-by-daylight/147923

Buy for PlayStation:
https://www.playstation.com/en-us/games/dead-by-daylight-ps4/

Buy for PC:
http://store.steampowered.com/app/381210/agecheck

 

Posted in Personal Accountability, Weight Loss Journey

Stomachs Better- Prepare for T25!

My stomach finally feels like it isn’t trying to kill me. My body has finally passed the phase where that burger of death was causing me to be so gosh darn sick.

So what am I going to do? 

Today I’m getting in my car and driving to local camping spots with my mother. I’m gonna help her find a few spots so hopefully we find something we like for when we go on the 19th and 20th 🙂

Something with a decent amount of privacy, access to a swimming hole, and that you don’t easily hear the highway right around the corner.

Tomorrow I start back T25. From there I’ll be staying away from any and all food that isn’t made from my own kitchen.

There is no way I’m allowing myself to get that sick again. Just the thought of a burger makes me want to run towards the bathroom and puke up everything I have.
So for now, Good Morning, and I hope you’re having a fantastic day!

Posted in American, LGBT Community, Transgender Military Ban

What an AMERICAN Really Thinks of Trump’s Trans Military Ban

This filth of a President that has never seen combat, is now telling others that they aren’t allowed to take a bullet for this country.
Is this the hate that you voted for? To start banning people from serving the nation they were born in? That they pay taxes to? That they live in? That they went to school in? That they love? 

Because if not you’d better be calling him out for it.
You said not to worry. 

You said our community was fine. 
There is no reason why my friends should have to feel like second class citizens when we can pay for cis men to get it up via viagra.
There is no reason why my friends have to feel like a second class citizens when we pay for cis military women to go on maternity leave.
There is no reason to have my friends feel like second class citizens when cis women can have their childbirth paid for and acted on at the cost of the military or pay the cost to fly them across the world back home to their family. 
Take your blatant homophobia and hypocritical self, and kindly Fuck off.
This is simply UN-American.
If an AMERICAN wants to serve our great nation, then an AMERICAN should serve.
I thought we were past this when African American men, Hispanic men, and Asian men (and all other POC) had to fight for the right to serve.
I thought we were past this when women had to fight for the right to serve.
I thought we were past this when faggots and dykes had to fight for the fight for the right to serve. 
And now we have to go through this shit again. 

Pull. Your. Head. Out. Of. Your. Ass.
Start acting like an American.

Article-

http://www.losangelesblade.com/2017/08/04/trumps-trans-military-ban-now-policy/
Viagra For Military Men-

http://www.politifact.com/punditfact/article/2017/jul/27/florida-trips-viagra-pills-twitter-claims-plenty-c/
Maternity Costs For Military Women-

http://www.cnn.com/2013/01/23/health/unplanned-pregnancies-military/index.html

Posted in Anxiety, Failed to Exercise, Personal Accountability, Weight Loss Journey

McDonalds Food Poisoning and New Homeowner Questions

So as an update: (possibly gross TMI- you’ve been warned)

 
I decided to get McDonald’s the other night, a double cheeseburger fries and a coke. A “treat,” I told myself, for adulting so well and being on top of bills/exercise.
I then spent the next two days constantly running to the bathroom to explode and be sick out of both ends. Getting very little sleep with my stomach in knots, as my body rejected that meal and punished me for two days.
My husband believes that it’s because I haven’t eaten fast food in forever, and have been eating healthy foods regularly, my mother thinks it was food poisoning.
Regardless- it was an event in my life that has officially killed any burger joints for me. The thought of them makes me sick.

I got so dizzy, I literally passed out on the bathroom floor at 430 in the morning.

Never. I’m never. Eating that crap again.

Needless to say I haven’t done T25, and I’ll be picking up on Monday when my body is not trying to kill me.

Which brings me to my second half of this post

Homeowners- I have a few questions if you’d care to lay down some wisdom.
When does paying your mortgage become less of a burden?

When do mortgage insurance premiums go away?

When did you first refinance your home and why?
We aren’t behind by any means but if just the MIP (over $200 a month) were out of the way, we’d be able to consider building an actual family.
Any insight/advice you have to preemptively help us would be appreciated.