Author Archives: littlelostsunny

In case of.

This is a post that I hope will never come into play or be enacted.  And to be quite frank– my tear ducts are dry and my spirits are low as well.  I’m tired and my eye lids are droopy.  But, I need to put it to paper (or in this case– the internet?).   If I am to die tomorrow or today (with no suicidal tendencies– but a what-if)….. everything in the apartment belongs to Megan Elizabeth Strohecker.  Everything is open for grabs to my parents, Swanette Ann Smith and Robert Ray Smith.  Duke it out.  :P  Nothing will be pawned– everything unwanted will be donated.  Raleigh will be with Megan E. Strohecker’s care until she chooses not to or if she passes.  I truly do leave everything to Megan, but I also want everyone to help her through that process.  She will not understand all of it because she has never had to live through it.  If we both are to die– I hope that Starbuck goes to Meg’s mother.

As for my burial…. I do not wish for a service, nor a viewing, nor anything….

I want a cremation and for my ashes to be spread at Alta Lakes like my grandmother and grandfather.  That is what I want.  I want my organs that are viable to be donated to anyone who can utilize them.

If there is ONE thing that I want the Smith family to hold onto…. it’s my guitar.  Teach Cate how to play.  Other than that…. have a field day with my Star Wars toys.


Digging my own grave.

So, since September my mother and father have been trying to get me SSI– disability   I don’t talk about my faults and flaws often because most of them are my own fault.  And I will continue to be vague and discreet.   I used to open up my rib-cage and share my soul to anyone who would listen.  Now, i have been privileged to have a fiance, two friends, and an amazing family.   All just a heartbeat, text or call away  I had to contact a new friend today just to listen to me for a few (about 15 minutes) because I have no one else.  And her and her fiance are fantastic.  I am so lucky.  Also, I hope no one in my life has to go through what I did this afternoon.  Not hanging out with a potential friend but being made to feel like an idiot.


Oh, and you are correct– still don’t open about those ailments.  Shucks.


I’ve always heard the expression that you don’t know what you have until you lose it  But,”it” is too vague of a word to utilize in this instance.  Meg is not an “it.”  She is someone who baffles me daily with her bravery and loyalty– she is someone anyone would be proud to call their partner, daughter or friend.   She will be there when you fall to pick you up, she will stitch up your wounds (unfortunately– I know this), and she will hold your hand through the darkest times.  Of course, she will also tell you that you went Madonna on her and started having inflections with your spoken word.  I love her for this.  She never comments on my appearance when I have no makeup on– and I love her more for this. :)

I was in the ER recently…. and the doctor said he had never seen someone’s partner, girlfriend, wife, etc lie in a hospital bed throughout the night with them-cuddling a patient in the smallest stupid bed ever.  I know she is special.  I will never deny that.  Nor could I…. She was asleep when he said this.

Love is love, but eternal undying and undeniable love is something that words can not express in a way that I can accept.  I’m not well versed in vocabulary or grammar, but I know that whatever I write is insufficient to truly iterate my feelings or emotions.

I find this incapability distressing.

Thus, whenever I feel downtrodden and upset about who I am…. I look at her– think about the red hair, freckles and smile. and  I realize that if I have her, my parents and my dog following my every move and loving me– maybe there is more to me than what I believe to be an empty fractured  shell.  Something is there that is endearing.  So hard to see it when you focus on the negatives  and other people focus on the positives.  I need an injection of optimism– reminding myself to go take my multitude of vitamins and work your ass off to improve.

I will continue my voyage into this cavernous journey of figuring out who I am.  One step closer to deserving Megs.  I will always be attempting to earn the privilege of her hand in marriage.  Never going to cessate this trek.    Never discontinuing this finite trip into bliss.


Fourth Valentine’s Day with her.  Still, I wake up every morning staring at her.  Completely enchanted and enamored.   She is way too beautiful and amazing to be with someone like me.  No idea why she settled for this nerd who has no money, no future…. nothing.  But, she did.   She takes care of me when I’m sick and also when I’m not.  She is the railing I use when too battered and broken to stabilize myself.  I never could repay her for that.  I used to think that cutting her initials or a heart onto me was good enough.  I now understand that is erratic and insincere.  It hurts her more than bringing her closer to me.   I was a child.

That is the beauty to gaining (or anti-rogaining) a gray hair or two– you garnered experience and knowledge from the past years.

I’ve been writing on this blog quite a bit recently– and I apologize for the  repetition and monotony.    Truly.  But, this one is just a shout out to my fiance for standing by me during all of these trials and tribulations.   She picked someone with blindness, an eating disorder,  paralyzed left arm, social anxiety, self-harmer, and essentially just  a crazy person.  However, she loves me.   Love is a mysterious thing.

She has to read menus at Subway for me.  She runs errands because I cannot drive, nor do I have a car.  I have no phone.  I have no job.  She is my life support.  She is the root part of my tattoo of the tree of life.  And there is nothing keeping her here  but her love.   No decision is made without her clouding my stupidity.  In a good way….

I glance in her direction and my day improves.  She makes me feel beautiful.   She makes me want to see a sun rise every morning.  She is worth getting up for.   My favorite thing is waking up before her seeing that pristine face in the morning light.   Megs doesn’t see the beauty that I see and I am so sorry for that.

But, I feel and see the warmth radiate from her.  My eyes close and I see her smile.  First thing I think of when I fall asleep- first thing I think of when I arise.

She has been there for me through everything.  She is the best person I have ever met.  Or will ever meet.  Everything she does is selfless and I can never ever cut enough stupid paper hearts to make it up to her.  She is the reason I exist.  I love you, Megan.  Now and forever more.  Happy Valentine’s Day to my one and only true and dearest love. And I’m so sorry that everyone can’t have a Megalicious in their life.


happy valentine’s day :)

A reflection in a mirror can cause duress and distress– probably why I haven’t glanced up from the ground in years.  It is easier to shirk away from reality than it is to perceive and analyze it.  According to Poe….eyes are the window to the soul.  But, when your girlfriend has to paint a picture of your eyes to even know what color they are– is that a blessing or curse?  One side would say– WOW, your girlfriend and fiance loves you enough to create artwork to honor your beauty– another side says curse…. because you are so afraid to be let down by what a mirror reveals to you.  This is not “Snow White” I have no magic mirror.   I  have the one you need to clean with windex that spits truth in an acerbic way.   Unflattering and just as unfitting for someone with dysmorphia.  All of this weighs on me… I cut years and years from my life because of this.  I am getting better, but by getting better you get worse because you have no fuel to fuel yourself.  It’s not heroin, but it’s a drug.  So, you experience withdrawal.

I’m not doing well with it.  I relapse.  I’m scared of change– always have been.  What is on the other side of the fence?  Greener grass or darker pastures?  What does await you?

I am afraid to take a shower because of the negative reflection and visual refraction.   I disrobe and fear what I will see.  I am cognizant of reality where I am not a Beast, but a…. half way Beauty.  But, I cannot grasp that in the present…it’s just a faint glimmer of hope– or a dim lightbulb that can signify that.

No amount of therapy or medication can restore that thought into the palm of your hand.  Not yet.  You lose it, it”s gone.  The only thing you can hope is that you do not succumb so far into the sewage of this degree of self-doubt.   That’s what you hope.  All you want is to be comfortable with yourself and not ashamed by your appearance.

But life is tricky.  Sometimes the smartest people can be crazy in the wrong way.  I love everyone else in my life, but can’t seem to reflect that giant heart onto my own visage.

I sometimes wish I had a cave in my heart to accept the love that is directed towards me.  Because, I definitely have an abundance of that.   And thank you to all that bestow that upon me. ::)

Alcohol Awareness

My name is Sunny and I’m an alcoholic.  It started so simply with social anxiety.  I could of put the brakes on that.   Psychiatrist.  easy.  Instead i approached it the same way I do everything.  Fix it yourself.  It worked once prior….  With anorexia.  But, now I am grasping at strews for control.

It’s not the anorexia that’s AAn issue…. it is the reminiscent issues  of alcohol abuse.  I have had multiple seizures, have permanent paralysis in my left hand, vision loss, a relationship that I’m hoping can last.

I’m surprised that anyone even is capable of opening their heart to me.

I am a great girl.  I’m sweet, I’m kind and caring… I have a fatal flaw.  Hopefully not.  But, who knows?

I just want this to  be a PSA…. Do not start drinking to solve any problem.  It will backfire.  Some of the firing can be physical, some emotionally, but all are permanent.   And once you start it’s near impossible to stop once you get embittered, encapsulated, entangled, embottled embroiled in a bottle.  iI’m not the first nor last to give this speech, but heed my advice… just don’t do it.

Title of no ingenuity sorrows from rainbow land…. i promise.

I used to think I was a poet, but I am now ok with just being a person who voices their opinion on a free blog site.   The last time I was admitted to the emergency room for “suicidal thoughts,” which is hilarious….  nothing more than some IV fluids of potassium. could fix the thousands of dollars my family was billed (thanks! by the way) … the man who was questioning me said to never make your internal thoughts public.  So, essentially, I need to have a diary as if I am a pre-teen child?  I need to get myself a “hello kitty” notebook and scribble my thoughts in it like a pedophilac mental patient?  Great.

I just wanted to recount what it is like being someone who has several stamps of failure between them and reflections of failure and then .  Just looking at this screen– as I type,,, Beyond my strings of hair on my forehead, beyond the pixels of a monitor, there are always those blocking truths.   I only state the facts… which, by the way, ruined my past relationships– I was honest about infidelity.  I always will be honest about everything.   I have been infidel in the past, but honest immediately.  Relationship terminated.  My current as of 03/16…..4 years.  Completely dedicated to her.  Megan is the best thing that could happen to me and the last person to read this message.  But, I don’t care.  I’m so fucking FUCKING LUCKY.  I treasure each day.  Just wait until her actual anniversary day.

It is amazing how a single line can conclude or allude to a bigger project or projection.   It can be curt or it can sit there and settle on  your cold shoulder.  That’s the beauty and detriment of words…. they can save you, but are capable of hurling you into an abyss that you cannot escape from.  Reference that nerds me out?  Sarlacc  I am in a sarlacc pit.  I can’t win. 

Salt on a wound.  So ironic when you have so many on your side trying to help.  It just takes a moment…. a single instance… to realize what you’ve lost.  I can appear desperate to many or any who want to see me fall down.   If that’s what you want to see… dig me up from beneath the gravel and pull me up because I’m way ahead (literally) of you.   I hold my little magic mirror every night and the only face staring back at me is one that disgusts and repulses me.  So much reprehension and misguided cues from myself led me to this mess.  I should be nothing to everyone.  But, that is not the case… I mean a lot to a few people that are more important than myself.  

I suffer through every second for these individuals because if this is what they want– I can give them this.  I am  paralyzed, in more ways than, a left-handed pinky and my wedding band finger…hurt, anxious, scarred, scared, vision-impaired kid, who wants nothing more than to rain support and love on those she loves and those she doesn’t know.  

I finally cried when my mother said that I had another test lined up for me.  It was yesterday.  Simple and non-invasive…. I passed.   I can see checkerboards.  I was elated.  I’m not blind.  But, you know what?  I wish I could fucking read words or signs again.  I don’t care about the money I could get from disability.  I want to be able to read a newspaper, a book, or the computer without my nose touching the screen.  That’s’ what I want to know more than anything.  But, essentially I learned that this was my vision for life.  You think that doesn’t weigh heavy on a 28 year old…. knowing you can’t only not see, but can’t drive again?  It weighs heavily.  I try and address everything with levity because without humor what do you have? Nothing, but sadness and despair.  I am not at that pint.  

Let me have the ability to amend that if a brain scan comes to fruition. LOL  minus the lol.


My name is Sunny Day… 

who am I to keep a depressed view of life when I have the BEST family in the world and a fiance who would do anything for this broken girl.  :)   I have no shame in typing this…. I do need help.   I need help just moving my left hand.  I have trouble remembering who I am in the sense that– I have no idea why people think I am intelligent or worthy of affection or interest.  I have no memory loss.  But, I made no impact on anyone.  That, I know.  And it is my fault– because I could of done a lot for people.  I am a great girl.  I’m just very shy and I did not graduate from college.  3 semesters shy.  I have real life experience.  Means nothing.  I get it.   

But, regardless of that…. I see the sunrise everyday and the sunset fall against the beautifully groomed horizon thanks to someone.  I’m not the best, but, I am not the worst.  I can guarantee that I care more than anyone else about anything I am associated with.   In that field…. I win. 


I was told earlier that “human rights” did not extend to gay couples.  This was by someone I viewed as a friend.  However,  my family, my sibling, my pets, etc… do not think that way. they shirk their conservatism  for me.   The word faggot does not scar nor scare me.  We all should be past it. it is 2014.   Yeah?  No one should care about who I am in a relationship with….being I have been and will always be with a girl– same girl .  Does my getting  engaged affect you on a personal level?  Am I stealing your rights?   Am I?   I have been engaged for three years– been in a relationship for four next week.   My girl has stuck with me through so much– and I have endured her own issues   as well… We love each other so much…. Why is it so terrible for us to exchange rings and vows?   Really?   I guarantee I will not be trying to take your  wives.   I just want to get all dressed up and be formally wedded.  I can continue to wait.  I will have no one to witness it– I have no more friends via my own neglectful behaviors.  I am to blame for all of it.   Same with my desire to sing and play my Taylor Guitar.  You still love me.  :D  But,  Meg sticks with me and has despite everything– I miss her the second she leaves the apartment until the second she returns.   I’m already dreading her birthday when she goes on vacation on March 16th.  I don’t use nor abuse, but I choose her to lay next to me every night.   I adore and abhor this entire relationship.  I am a stain and I will refrain from any  more details.

Let me conclude with this– I came out in terms of sexuality at twelve.  I didn’t start my period until sixteen.  So, I don’t think that was the cause.  I think I was born gay.  I will continue to clasp hands with Meg for my entire life– happily.  And thankfully.  I’m sorry that there are people who do not accept it.

My mantra is to put my sweat-shirt hood on, throw the ball for the dog and ignore reality…. it’s worked this winter.   Cessation is impending.  Also, inevitable.   I am navigable,  but also reasonable.

I have put multiple rings on Meg’s hands.  My favorite is my grandmothers.   Grandma Smith meant so much to me. She introduced me to M.A.S.H.  I love her, but I gave the ring to my fiance b  it’s too small for my own paw.  I gave it to my gal.  I told Meg to keep wearing it. despite cracking    If it breaks– so be it.  We can fix it.   Megan, my grandma Helen would have been so excited and honored to meet you.  I’m sorry she didn’t get to.

I am also sorry I didn’t get to say “I love you.” one more time– about 10 years later.

Looking at one’s own reflection is… to be cliche: a double edged sword.

I question people’s moral compass when they view or highlight a mental illness as something worth glorifying.  What kind of person are you…. YOU?

I have averted my eyes for years.   This is in reference to a physical and mental diagnosis of narcissism   I thought that I was immune to this.  But, learned that selflessness in the eyes of a narcissist can actually be the direct opposite.

I learnt this recently.  I ended up cuffed.  I went to the ER with a BAC of 3.4.  Got to spend over 12 hours there.  How many people have a gf/bf that come and sleep with them in a little bed?  Mine did.  She wasn’t even told where to go and she found me.  Can’t call her my wife– although our 4 year anniversary is…. imminent.  We have no official date set.

The thing is- I am so exhausted by this merry-go-round of drunken confessions.   I’m not proud of myself.  I also do not know how to escape.  I try to– and then I’m dizzied by the myriad of options.  I do need a guide dog in more ways than one.

Oft-times, I am afraid to leave my apartment due to superficial imagery.   I know that’s abnormal.  Doesn’t change the reality of it.  This is not something rehab would fix.  I’ve been there and done that.  Truly: Shoal Creek.   It’s a joke.  They make you more afraid of those you are supposed to become “friends” with.

I am a case where I a struggling with life and straddling the issue about who to become with the gifts I have been bestowed.   Those who tell me I am intelligent– in what realm?  Those who have no say– build a snowman with me tomorrow if it does snow.  I have no judgment.  I m just lost.  And no psychiatrist, psychologist, nor prescription meds have been able to fix it   I don’t believe I’m hyper-intelligent– just stuck in a maze.  A maze and perplex.



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