Something controversial I support

I’m going to say it. It’s not something I normally shout out. It’s something that normally, at least from what i’ve noticed, is frowned on.


That being said, you may want to leave this thread. If you’re pregnant, I suggest leaving. If you want to have a rousing argument, you may want to go as well.

I’m not here to tout the wonderfulness of aborting a baby. I’m here to say that people should have a choice. I do not espouse promiscuity, or irresponsible choices or even killing babies. I love babies. You can ask anyone I know. I espouse the ability to make a choice legally, and the right to do so. It’s not a choice I normally would not make, but I cannot judge in the many various situations that people of the world may be in. I can tell you some facts that I’ve learned, through an unfortunate turn of personal experiences.

When I was 19, I got married. To my wonderful husband. We decided, shortly after I turned 20, to stop preventing conception and start actively trying to have a baby. After three months of trying, I got pregnant. I was RIDICULOUSLY excited. The moment I saw the words “Pregnant” on the little test I had purchased, I was SO excited. I don’t think, in all of the world, any woman could have been as excited as me. (Hyperbole maybe, but I was young, and pure and excited.) I got powerfully ill. VERY bad morning sickness. I threw up a lot. I remember at one point praying for God to stop the sickness. I would do anything. I don’t blame God for what happened next, but I felt foolish for the prayer I had said.  One day I came home early from work, and felt uneasy. Scott and I had an argument (I’m 100% about something stupid) and I was bleeding. it was faint, the nurse on the line when I called assured me that was normal. I felt panicked. I requested to go to the doctor. They got me an appointment. I had a blessing. I scheduled it for my anniversary (one year with my awesome Scott Husband! It should have been a great day!) We went to the doctor, he did an ultrasound. I remember getting teary at the Ultrasound. It was AMAZING. there was my tiny baby.  I could see it’s tiny nub arms, and it’s head. I was in love. I had, with my husband, made a little person. They were going to be my baby, and I would hold them forever in my arms. Moments later… I heard the saddest words ever, “Oh darn. There’s no heartbeat.” I was broken hearted. I felt my life shatter into a million pieces. I was presented with two options. I could wait for the baby to pass from my system naturally, or I could have a D&C. For you mormons out there, this isn’t Doctrine and Covenants. It’s Dilation and curettage. The doctor explained the procedure. I signed up for it. I went home, with the feeling for the next week with the sad feeling of knowing that I was carrying my baby inside of me. Knowing that every cramp, the pain in my back, was my body getting ready to expel it. My anniversary, to say the least, was ruined. It was really though, the last of my concerns.

I had to take work off, which of course meant that I was losing pay. I took a week off to recover. Not enough time. How much time do you take off for the loss of a child? I loved that baby. I wanted in my arms. I wanted to see it’s cute smiles, and watch it suck it’s thumb and coo and cry and HECK poo all over. I carry that baby in my heart. I assume it was a little boy. In my heart that’s what I’ve always seen. He would have been 7 this year.

The real blow to me, the innocent little 20 year old girl who was conservative in every way. Who saw the world in black and white, who loved her baby and could never EVER understand why a person would have an abortion. Got a bill in the mail. For the D&C she had to undergo, on which it stated I had an abortion. I wish I could have cried. I wish there had been tears left in me for it at that point. All was left was pain, and disbelief. Ever since then, I never wanted anyone to feel that shame. People will say, when I tell them this story “your baby was already gone.” What if it wasn’t that? What if my baby was alive, but was very ill, making it unable to live. Could you face the heartbreak of having to choose watching your baby die a painful death in your arms, or stopping the pain before they have to suffer? Should you judge people for making that choice? You cannot stand on the sidelines and watch people’s lives and assume you know where they are. By taking their choice away, you assume you know what’s best for them. Let people make their own choices, if it’s wrong in God’s eyes, God will judge them. You are not God, you cannot judge them as you are also imperfect.

I tell my kids, love those who hurt you. If someone is in pain, or hurting, or just different from you, don’t hate them. You don’t know them. Love them.  You don’t know their burdens, you don’t know their life or challenges they experience. It’s easy to look at a situation you’ve never been in and say “I’d never do that.” But you don’t know, until you’re there.

<3 I hope my experience brings some perspective for some people. A deep shade of depressing blue to your world of black and white. Not everything is as simple as it sounds.

Derringer Meryl [Once Upon a time…] Out


Life in my head

So I’ve been working nights, and working nights usually leads to me getting on a path of staying up too dang late … and it’s a horrible cycle of horribleness.

I ususally feel more depressed for less sleep. I often feel like my simple diagnosis of “Depression” and “Social Anxiety” isn’t enough. (Well for good measure and accuracy I guess we could toss ADD in there too. Someone this week asked me if I was dyslexic… I felt like asking him if he was always stupid. That would have been rude of me, wouldn’t it have?) ANYWAY.  This kind of goes hand in hadn with my diet issues. My considerable diet issues. I learned of a new mental disease (i collect mental diseases like an old woman collects doilies and cats.) called impulse control disorder.

Now I’ve been to therapy a time or two in my days, and it seems to me a lot of the time doctors don’t like to put names to things you have. Because once I started reading about it, I realized, my last therapist (the gem that told me that I needed to quit my job or I was for sure going to get divorced, HAH. Jerkwad. I don’t have to do anything you say I am going to do. SO THERE.) had basically told me the “steps” of this disorder as a discription of something I had. I have. Because the thing is… it doesn’t matter what I’m doing this is how it goes:

an impulse> growing tension> pleasure from acting> relief from the urge > guilt

That’s how it goes in the grocery store, or on the way to work … usually with food now days. There were dark days where it was alcohol. I’ve never drank, I’m glad for it. Because this is what my life would turn into “I want a drink. I shouldn’t drink. Why not drinking makes you feel good, and you relax and you let go. Ok let’s get a drink. YAY THIS BEING DRUNK IS FANTASTIC! Oh see wasn’t that great… No it wasn’t. I should never do that again.” and then REPEAT. Instead, I usually insert sweets. Candy,  cake, sugar, soda, etc. If it will make you sick from eating it, I’ve eaten too much of it and vomited. JUST SO YOU KNOW. So it goes like this “I should buy some candy (or eat candy if I already have it.) No, that’s not a great idea, because I’m trying to diet. But, I was really good today, I did all that work, and I deserve the weekend off, and (JUSTIFICATION JUSTIFICATION, RATIONALIZATION) Ok, i’m going to eat this candy (sugar whatever junk) THIS IS SO DAMN TASTY. I will never regret this (then it cycles a bit until I’m nauseated. SERIOUSLY.) then the guilt of why do I do this to myself. I’m trying to lose weight.”

This is why, i don’t drink. THIS ^^^^^^ I’ve always (on some level) known this about myself. I knew if I took a drink I’d never stop. I wish I could go back in time and never have candy (among other things I wish I could go back and never do) but I can’t. I can’t undo what’s been done. I can only make a choice. That after I get the impulse, that I don’t give in. Because I don’t want to be the person who has to be lifted from their house with a crane when they die. You know?

I was, as a teen, fairly tightly wound. You know. BORING. I never partied, and as I’ve mentioned like a million times, I have never drank. Never did drugs, a little straight edge whatever. (think of it as you will!) I didn’t date, I hadn’t kissed anyone (until I met my hubby) I was a plain jane vanilla girl.

I’ve always hated myself for it. For a lot of things. Scott and I were cleaning up and I found a journal of mine from 2010 when I was in therapy. I wrote down all the things I hated about myself. I wrote PAGES and pages. I wish I could say I’m free of it now. I’m not. I still really REALLY struggle with my depression! I’m trying though. I am in love with Scott, who constantly reminds me that I’m an awesome mom, and that he loves me. He encourages me in my dreams, and wants me to be an awesome writer. I told him the other day that I wanted to take a whole day off from everything (no chores, no kids, not even him) and he didn’t blink an eye and just said ok. I don’t know if he was hurt by that, but I’ve become increasingly more attuned to my social anxiety. I act Like Suzy Social skirt, but it’s a waring facade to project. I can’t be that girl who chats to everyone and remembers everyone’s names. I am NOT the girl who is engaging all the time. I am occasionally charming and funny. I’m glad I didn’t decide to be an actor, I’d probably have died by now.

AND. Like an alcoholic who drinks too much when they’re stressed, I eat too much. I do. I have made my self sick tonight on Pizza and gummy butterflies. I have made myself nauseated at least once every week this past month. And while my former therapist wasn’t right that I would get divorced or I would need to quit my job… the reality is, I need to quit my job or I’ll eat myself to death. (Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, But someday, I’ll get sick from it, and die.)


So I say NO. I’m not going to let stress eat me into a diabetic coma. I’m going to put myself higher on my priorty list. I will do something for myself besides eat. Food isn’t my enemy (I need it duh) but I don’t need to eat Fudge striped cookies and gummy butterflies. I can make healthier choices and NOT feel sick every weekend and I can choose to not die from poor choices. I want to be better. I can be if I try harder. I will say NO more. I will NOT force myself to be suzy social skirt, and I will still be great at what I do without OVER doing it.

Derringer Meryl [331] out


Up So Close

When it’s late at night (and FYI it’s late at night) I like to write, and I like to pick little niggly things apart.


I like to read Fanfiction. I like to lose myself in someone else’s imagination. I like to be overwhelmed with emotion, I prefer it to be happy, but it’s like being adrift in a sea of emotion. letting things buoy you up and drag you down.

There’s a line from a movie, that I didn’t love, it didn’t do GREAT, it’s the last movie I think I saw Meg Ryan in, and frankly I think she’s kind of… DONE. You know? but that’s what happens when your whole acting career is based on the fact that you’re “adorable” and then you get botchy plastic surgery …. While Kate and Leopold is cute (it’s the movie I”m referencing here) it’s not either of their characters I like, pretty much at all.

The lovable character… the character that makes me cry when he says this line is her ex boyfriend stuart. You may not know the actor (Liev Schreiber ) he’s not been in a terribly large amount of things, but the quote that I adore is this:


It is no more crazy than a dog finding a rainbow. Dogs are colourblind, Gretchen. They don’t see colour. Just like we don’t see time. We can feel it, we can feel it passing, but we can’t see it. It’s just like a blur. It’s like we’re riding in a supersonic train and the world is just blowing by, but imagine if we could stop that train, eh, Gretchen? Imagine if we could stop that train, get out, look around, and see time for what it really is? A universe, a world, a thing as unimaginable as colour to a dog, and as real, as tangible as that chair you’re sitting in. Now if we could see it like that, really look at it, then maybe we could see the flaws as well as the form. And that’s it; it’s that simple. That’s all I discovered. I’m just a… a guy who saw a crack in a chair that no one else could see. I’m that dog who saw a rainbow, only none of the other dogs believed me.


While he’s talking about time (obviously) since the movie relates to time travel, I feel this way with things on occasion. We live such fast paced lives that sometimes we don’t pay attention to what we’re feeling. We just box it away deep in our stomach and shove some fast food on top of it and let our guts hang over our waist bands (not that I’m any different as far as the fatness goes, I’m just saying).  I soak it all in. I think about what I’m feeling, a lot. Some people say i’m over dramatic… when I say some people, I mean EVERY PERSON WHO HAS EVER TALKED TO ME…. See what I mean? I don’t just look at how I’m feeling and say “yep that’s it” and toss it aside. I crawl down deep inside it. I live in it. I explore it. Like a great big ocean with caves that are so dark and deep. I want to see every part. I want to feel it wash against me.

I feel sad, a lot (alot, cause it makes me think of Allie Brosh when I smoosh it all together). Sometimes I don’t feel like getting out of bed. Sometimes, I don’t feel like there are words to describe it. There is no picture to paint, no story to tell. I’m just lost and trapped, and scared and alone. It makes my chest tight, and my heart heavy. It makes me wish for simpler days. It makes me wish that I wasn’t terrified of tomorrow. (I shouldn’t borrow worry from tomorrow, as tomorrow has it’s own worries and troubles ;))

Hope, it’s what I need. Hope that something will change, something will be better.

I am struggling with the thought of getting medication again. Medication and I don’t have a great history. the last meds I took left me more depressed and unsure than I was before I had them. So i always think twice now when I’m down. I think “Can I get through this? Do I really need it.” I feel like a cloud has been hanging over me for a month. if so not more. I am trying. I am trying. What else can I ask for? to focus on trying not to be smothered and drowned in my own depression is about all I can manage right now.

I should probably go see a therapist. But how do I randomly pick one of those off of a website? Sheesh.

Look for upcoming changes to the blog. nothing massive, just little changes (they’ve started happening already ;))


Derringer Meryl [ a little unwell] Out

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The why of Meryl

At work we’ve been examining “why” a lot. Why do we want quality workers? why do we provide the service the way we do? Why, Why, Why?


I’ve been applying Why into my life. In case you need a bit of perspective:

So I’ve been thinking about this in a lot of different ways, relating to my job, because honestly that’s where this first was shown to me so it’s logical that I would apply it there first.

Then I started thinking about the fact that WHY would (and could) lead me to being a happier person. Truely. Simon has another video about how much he dislikes the “self help” industry because if we could just reach out to the other people around us and help THEM with their issues without any thought to being “paid back” any sort of return on that investment of our time, other than our own feeling of fulfillment.

I know people who live like this, they are generally much happier than me. I have to admit, I am NOT good at the things Mr. Sinek speaks of. Mostly reaching out to our fellow man. He says that we sit in our cubicles at work and just stay closed off. I wonder, if there is something about my psyche that makes me resistant to other people. At work we do a personality index, I’ve sat through the review of the results… at least 9 times now? and the things I know are that I score low ion the extroverted scale. I am technically an introvert that makes me kind of unique in the fact that my job requires me to be social. I am not socially poised, I DO worry that people like me. I do like to be the center of attention and make people laugh. Because it brings me fulfillment. It makes me feel good. So it’s weird that my fulfillment is working opposite of my personality. There’s probably some deep psychological hole in my brain that a doctor could fix so that I didn’t hate myself for being terrified of people. I do work at it. I enjoy training at work QUITE a bit, because (as any member of my immediate family will tell you) I like to repeat funny stories/jokes. Even if they fall flat. I will tell you the same snooty factoid (did you know that the Brigham City Temple was built on top of the Elementary school I went to? NO? Let me tell you again in 20 minutes.) even though I’ve probably already told you. FUN TIMES EH? Anyway. I like talking, like educating. I’d be a rubbish elementary/secondary school teacher. Mostly because as a trainer, i work with my boss to pick who is in my classes. As a teacher you get what you get and you don’t get upset. So there’s that. I don’t get final say, but– I do the best with what I’m given haha.

Anyway, I was thinking about Why in relation to my weight. I would L-O-V-E to be thin and a little bit foxy (VERY MUCH) and I’d honestly adore just being able to shop at a regular store. But those are the results I’m chasing. (seriously, have you watched the video? Do it!) Maybe I’m the eternal skeptic or something because I don’t have a belief. I don’t have a why. Why am I trying to lose weight? What is my belief set behind that? I think this applies. Because I am a drifter. A chameleon I will believe what you believe with the passion you have. I don’t have a solid opinion of anything. I don’t believe I can do it.


Let me say that again. I don’t feel like the full weight of the statement can be fully felt without me repeating it.


I don’t believe I can do it.


When I say that, when I feel it, when I write it, it is what i mean. It may seem a bit Melodramatic right? People say that’s what I am. Melodramatic. Over dramatic. Whatever. I feel like I am HONEST. I believe in my emotions, and the things I say about my emotions are not exaggerations, they are a true and brilliant painting of the war within my head. People thought that Van Gough was crazy because he could see the color in the universe when no one else could. Maybe it made him a little bit of a nutter. I’m not saying I’m Van Gough, cause I tell you I’m not, but I can tell you that I can relate to feeling something so intensely that it makes you feel insane.

Feeling nothing can make you just as crazy. Sometimes it feels like a faucet. I can only feel everything and be mad, or feel nothing at all and wonder what’s the point. To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or by opposing end them.


Look how easily I’ve turned this into something dark!


POINT: My lack of belief in myself makes all of my negative self talk true. I think I’m downright rubbish at my job. I feel quite frequently as a failure. I struggle. I am IMMENSELY proud of my trainees. It seems a little silly, because it’s not like they’re my friends, they’re just acquaintances, but I am proud of their successes, because as their trainer, their success is MY success.


So how do I eliminate that niggling “no you can’t” in the back of my head. The voice I know all so well. I know who he is, and I know where he came from. As much as I want to shut it all away– I can’t. I shut down parts of me to play perfect girl for a while. I did that a lot in High School. Junior high too. Smiling Meryl. Happy Meryl,  Sometimes is never quite enough if you’re flawless, then you’ll win my love … how sad is it that in the end I’m the person that I want to escape. At the end of the day the person that isn’t happy with how i”ve done is me. I project it on other people. Scott, the girls, my boss, God. Everyone else I think is not loving me enough, and it’s because i”m trying to shove all their love into this huge gaping hole I have where my self-esteem is supposed to be.

I remember thinking “if I just had kids, they’ll love me enough.” Maybe not consciously, I may not have had that EXACT thought, but it was there. Before that, It was if I had a husband, or if I had enough friends, or if I had a boyfriend.

Quite frankly the problem is that all the love in the world for exactly who I am now cannot replace the belief i should I have in myself. The belief that I am good enough. Strong enough, That I deserve to be loved, by the most important person in the world to me. As selfish as it sounds, if you don’t have yourself on your team, who do you have?


Does that make sense?  Probably not. Post 10 PM Meryl usually sounds like a bunch of crazy. But this all seems very clear to me now. So I figured out the Why to my broken-ness, I guess the next thing is … How do I fix it?


Derringer Meryl [Deep.] Out

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Problems with obsessions

First and foremost is that I have to interact with people, obviously not everyone in the world likes what I like, and honestly that’s the mother flippin’ spice of life. Right? Everyone can’t be the same, that’d be DULL and bothersome.


What was I saying… Oh Yes I have to interact with people and they are often DONE with me and my blathering on about things far before I am.  Which is unfortunate. I am not just obsessive about TV shows, when I was a teenager I obsessed about boys … and not in general, i would latch on to a boy and turn my hooks in until he couldn’t stand me, and then I would become OBSESSED (usually lasting months) about WTF went wrong. Someone finally got the balls to tell me it was me, and I was able to work some stuff out in my brain. I learned to hold back.

When I find something that I think is BRILLIANT for me personally I tend to gush. With boys I could hold back after a while because I learned I was damaging my relationships by obsessing. But when it comes to things I”m trying to absorb and work out, I need to rake over it like 40 million times, In my head in a day. What was that thing in the background, did I see something in the mirror? What did those symbols mean? That kind of thing. But also lesser things. Little things about why I love specific characters so much. Why did the writing there make me cry, why do I love the characters so much? I like knowing little facts and passing them on. They make me feel smarter.

{As an aside I have a “I am dumb” complex from growing up with four older brothers, some of which were very insistent on how stupid I was. Because I was a girl, because I was young. THe thing is, I”m still fairly young (I’m no spring chicken, but Most people on the east coast my age don’t even have kids, they’re partying So… whatever) and I have always carried this “I can’t do that” feeling with me. So 5 seconds of reciting some smart fact about a tv show provides cheap and needed thrills}

I finished series 4 of the reboot of doctor who, and cried. I’m sure we’ll never see Rose again. I know things have changed on the show now, and I”m just not sure how to feel about it. David Tennant’s 10th Doctor was angst incorporeal form, I need that sometimes. it was angst with a sugar coating of humor. It gave you the feeling that you could be that Shop girl and be rescued/taken away like Rose Tyler, or a Temp at an Agency working day to day 9-5, no one ever telling you that you were pretty or smart, just doing what it took to get by. And someone could step into your life and it wasn’t so much that the Doctor tells them they’re brilliant, or wonderful, or amazing, he’s just holding a mirror up and showing them how wonderful, brilliant, amazing, fantastic (etc) they can be, and letting them be that way.


I feel like I need to find that outlet. Not in a person. I don’t need a person to validate me, I need to validate me. I need to look into the mirror and see how lovely, amazing, worthwhile, incredible, strong, beautiful and sweet I am. I still have a problem with mirrors, after all these years (for those who dont’ know, I have been terrified of mirrors since I was 5 thanks to someone telling me a super awesome ghost story!) and I think it transitioned at some point from scared to look because of the monster/ghosts/whatever might be there, to just being terrified of me.

I started a story I’ll probably never finish, and in it the character stares at herself in the mirror, and the thoughts in her head, they build until the person that she sees is ugly, and reprehensible. She cannot bear to look any more and so she shatters the mirror, and slices her hands up in the process. It’s a magnifying glass on how I feel.


It’s massively unhealthy, the way I am right now. I don’t lack the capability of being healthy. I simply need to put more positivity into my life. I need to infuse myself with less angst. Sure, angst is great for teenagers, and television characters; but I wallow, because of my obsessiveness. I drown myself in it. I roll around in the sadness and the misery until I can find my way back to where i”m happy again. It can take months, It has taken me years this time. Over three. I may never find the answer as to why I am sad. I may never be able to see clearly what’s going on, even in my head. But I need to learn to rise above it, and grasp for something better.  I think I’m going to try publishing something I write, even just a little drabble… On here once a week. I want to get back to where I was. I don’t want to laugh at high school me who wanted to write. I can never succeed if I never try. I may never be famous, or celebrated, but I can be happy. I can be happy.


Derringer Meryl [Just try] Out

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