Sassy Girl

Sassy Girl I just like to talk. To myself, to you, my cats, my vacuum cleaner, nothing is safe. I give great free concerts in my shower and my mom car. I am ridiculous. šŸ’ā€ā™€ļø

I trip over air, choke on my own spit, Im sure I could break hip rolling over in bed.

FOR EFF SAKESšŸ¤¦ā€ā™€ļøI go to the kitchen to fill my water. I end up wiping down the kitchen. Here come my 2 elderlies, looki...
06/16/2026

FOR EFF SAKESšŸ¤¦ā€ā™€ļø

I go to the kitchen to fill my water.
I end up wiping down the kitchen. Here come my 2 elderlies, looking for breakfast.

I get their meals together, hide Oliver’s medication in his, get them situated.
I should clean the air fryer pan.
Oh! I’m going to clean the potty boxes! I think I need to sweep the kitchen.
GRACIE LOU FREEBUSH! Get your fat ass out of Oliver’s food! He takes Miralax you know! I hope you s**t yourself!
Wait… not I don’t, scratch that!

Load the dishwasher, I actually remembered to start it, yay me!
Wipe down all the counters, consider mopping but… what time is it??
S**T!

Get Lady Meow Meow to her perch, rush to the bathroom, brush the teeth, get the bra and shirt on, slip the shoes on and head for the door.
DAMMIT!
I went off the schedule when I put my shoes on! I’m not wearing fricking pants! AGAIN!

Society frowns on this behavior for some reason. Probably so I don’t scorch peoples eyeballs out or something frivolous like that.

Get my pants on get my purse, get all my crap, get in the car, the keys are not in my purse.
Run back into the house find the keys, run back to the garage get the car started and realize, I forgot my morning shakes.
S**t.

Run back into the house, I really should be counting steps this morning, but whatever, grab my shakes get back to the car get my seat buckle on I’m ready to go, and I do not have my sunglasses.
I go through my purse, nothing.
Dammit!! I have been trying to be so good and putting them someplace where I will find them because I always forget where I put s**t šŸ’ā€ā™€ļø

Back in the house I go, fly up the stairs, search my bedroom search my bathroom search the other bathroom and the laundry room even though I know I wasn’t in there, fly back down the stairs as fast as an old fat woman can, search through the living room, search through the kitchen that I just cleaned, but God knows I could’ve looked right at them and not even realized what I was looking at.
For effs sake I am ridiculous.

Well, that is how it goes today, I get no sunglasses.
And before you tell me that I should have multiple pairs, I have done that in the past.
I used to always have a minimum of three pairs of sunglasses… and still get in my car all the time without any sunglasses and could not find them.
I even lifted the hatch and went through all my bags and supplies I used yesterday, nothing.
So there’s that.

Get back in the car get my seatbelt on, happen to turn my head a little bit to the right and I see something blingy…. Fml šŸ¤¦ā€ā™€ļø

Got to go!
Have a Romy and Michele Day! šŸ˜šŸ˜šŸ˜

Uhhhhh Best invention EVER! Bed remote, television remote, AC remote, constantly searching for at least one. Whipping th...
06/16/2026

Uhhhhh Best invention EVER!
Bed remote, television remote, AC remote, constantly searching for at least one.
Whipping through every blankets, lifting up cats, accusing them of stealing my bed remote!

Just like dresses, my sheets have POCKETS!

06/15/2026

DONATIONS NEEDED!

I just saw this on a page.
With everyone having garage sales, cleaning out homes and wondering what to do with your items that are left over, here you go!
I think this is a great place to donate!

Prairie St John's PHP (partial hospitalization program) runs a few transitional houses for people who don't live in the area or who are homeless so that they have a place to live while attending treatment. Some people arrive with just the clothes on their backs and little to nothing else.

If you'd like to donate anything to the PHP Housing feel free to drop stuff off with housing staff after 3pm Mon-Fri or anytime on Saturday-Sunday.

You can drop stuff off at 334 6th Ave S Fargo (last complex on the right on the road that goes by Prairie St John's psychiatric hospital).

Items needed:
Men's clothing (pants, shorts, shirts, socks, shoes, hoodies, jackets, underwear, boxers, etc)

Women's clothing (pants, shorts, shirts, skirts, dresses, socks, shoes, hoodies, jackets, bras, underwear, etc)

Kitchen items like silverware, plates, bowls, cookware, etc

Entertainment items like books, DVDs, board or card games, puzzles, etc.

06/13/2026

Good morning everyone!
Should we have coffee?
Is it coffee day? Maybe.

I know it’s been a bit since anyone has heard from me.
Writing has to come to me. I have to be in the mode.

These days I’ve been on a very personal journey so I have had focus on that. My writing is in the back, patiently waiting its turn.

Sometime ago, I announced to everyone that I was going to trauma therapy. I also promised that I would share in my journey. It hasn’t felt right. It still might not feel right, but I think it’s time to share at least a little bit. I have always said if my message reaches one person and makes a difference in their life. It’s worth bearing my soul.

I have never been shy about my childhood trauma. It is real, it has molded who I am as a person. I just never realized how much.

I would honestly say that through the years I have probably met with 25 therapists. And, I can honestly say that not one has been a help. I always thought they were dumb. Maybe they were. Or that they focused way too much on what the ā€œbooksā€ say. Or, maybe, I’m just so fu***ng broken that nobody knows what to do with me. ļæ¼

Someone that I trust very much in the controlling of my mental health, had suggested to me to meet with a particular therapist. With my views on them, you could call it gun shy, I said I would think about it, knowing full well, I wouldn’t.

As I am getting older, I can feel the survival mode really messing up my life but I didn’t know why or how to handle it. I have felt like it’s getting to me more now than ever. ļæ¼
As children in traumatic environments, we are in survival mode.
ļæ¼The way children survive is so much different than how an adult can survive in the adult world. But often times when you are in such a hard-core, survival mode as a child, when you cross over into adulthood, you don’t know how to handle that.
Or like me, it is so ingrained that it follows you through life and becomes a big part of who you are. ļæ¼

The harder it was getting, flashbacks, PTSD episodes, general, anxiety, and depression, I decided to consider the trauma therapist that had been suggested to me MANY times throughout the course of a year. ļæ¼

On a particularly difficult day I sporadically emailed her, the trauma therapist.
I said that Victoria had referred me and that I was going to hit send before I changed my mind.
I think it was a weekend so it did take about a day for her to respond. By then I had decided that I was better now and rethinking meeting with her. I did not reply.

She told me that her first session she likes to do a 15 minute introduction just to get the feel for each other to see if we feel like we are going to be compatible. But whatever, I didn’t need her because I felt better.

Until I didn’t.
I played this game with her a couple of times until I finally decided to push myself and go.
Our 15 minute session went well. I really did like her and I made an appointment for an actual session.
Keep in mind at this point, I still don’t trust anyone.

Let me go back a couple of years.
I was told about a psychiatrist that does really good trauma therapy. I had never seen a psychiatrist in my life so I was skeptical but yet I thought, well this is the top of the top in this field. He probably has the answers.

He crushed me just as hard as the trauma did. I would leave sessions with him, throwing up in the parking lot, going home in tears and feeling physically sick.
He told me that was normal. I spiraled into one of the worst black holes of my life while I was seeing him. He made me feel like a horrible person for not being able to conquer my trauma.
At some point, I just stopped going. I am not a professional by any means but I thought if this is what trauma therapy is I’m not fu***ng doing it. ļæ¼

A lot of ā€œnewā€ treatments in life is what I call voodoo. It’s probably not even associated with the actual definition of voodoo, but that’s what I have called it.

Rewiring our brain.
Are you serious? Is this like a lobotomy? Because those were stopped in the 50s or 60s when antipsychotic medications came out.
How would you rewire your brain? I’m calling bulls**t.

Well, I’m finding it’s not bulls**t. It is very real. ļæ¼
It is crazy what disruptions in your mental health will do to your body.
Anxiety can give you gut problems… I think that is so weird.
Why would anxiety affect your pooping? Well, it does. The body is amazing and very complex.

I am learning so much about myself.
Why I do the things I do. Why I think the things I think. Why I react the way I do. The incredible part, is that I really can change it. I guess I can see why they call it rewiring your brain now.

I have learned that I am anxious 24/7, if my mind doesn’t recognize it, my body does.
My shoulders are in a permanent position, upright and tight. I clench my jaw and grind my teeth, continuously. In learning what I have learned, I don’t think there is enough anxiety medication on earth to get me to stop this.
Why?
Because my body is always on guard. My body does not trust my environment. My body is always in survival mode, making sure that it is aware of danger at all times. My body is trying to keep me safe. My body has done this for 50 years.

Crazy huh?
Makes sense though.
I am also very paranoid and suspicious.
I don’t even trust my own children.
Let me rephrase that.
I didn’t, trust my own children, but I do now. I’m learning.

Not lack of trust in like, stealing my car, or something physical like that.
I did not trust their love for me. I did not trust their reasons behind what they did or said. I always felt like they were doing things on purpose to hurt me because my mind and body was still stuck in the modeļæ¼ that I was not enough, I was not safe.
This was not only limited to my children, this has followed me through adult friendships and relationships as well. ļæ¼
It really has done damage to my relationship with my children and that hurts so bad. ļæ¼

If they did not return a text right away, they were ignoring me because they did not value me. If they did not involve me in something big in their life, it was because they didn’t love me. They were punishing me for something that I had done in the past, I wasn’t good enough. I just simply was not enough in their eyes so I had to fight them for their love. I had to convince them that I was enough and that they were wrong for not allowing me to be important in their life.

Now THAT, is the bulls**t.
My main focus right now is on my family.
Sexy Man, he sees through it all. He gets me. He is so patient with me. And yes, no matter how good to me he is in every way, I have always been suspicious of him too and it does interfere with our relationship.

If one of my kids don’t text me back right away, maybe not until the next day, instead of feeling like I’m being slighted, or punished, I understand that as a new mother, Alysha is tending to her baby.
Babies have weird sleep schedules, they can have really tough days, maybe she’s exhausted. Maybe she is living her own life and busy right now. But she will text or call me back when the time is right. She is not withholding her love. ļæ¼
ļæ¼
Erin works two jobs. If she doesn’t have time to have lunch with me for two weeks, it is not because she doesn’t love me, it’s because she’s fricking busy trying to survive like the rest of us.
She’s putting a roof over her head. She also needs her personal/alone time and it’s OK that I am not in that personal time. I am still loved and valued, and we will get that lunch when we can both fit it into our lives. ļæ¼

This might sound abnormal to you.
But never being enough is ingrained in my head. There is no medication that could change this either.
However, I can. With help. With tools.
I am working very hard to ā€œrewireā€ my brain.
It’s working and I love it. I feel like I am breaking out of chains. It’s exhilarating and empowering.

You may be asking yourself what is so different about this trauma therapist, why, after all of these years is this one making a difference in my life?
When I told her that reliving the past debilitates me, she said to me, and I quote, ā€œRhonda, you have already lived it. You have already been there. We cannot change the past, we can only change how we live with it.ā€

Wow… powerful words. She doesn’t make me ā€œreliveā€ anything. I don’t leave there throwing up, bawling, and feeling sick for two days. ļæ¼Apparently that is not what trauma therapy is all about.

Another powerful thing that she said to me was ā€œyour trauma is not a burden for your children to carry.ā€
That one hit me hard. That one hit me so hard. Because that is exactly what I have done to my children and everybody else in my life.
I have allowed my trauma to be a burden on every single person that I’ve had a relationship with, in someway or another.
What a fu***ng s**t show. God that one hit me hard.

I will end here.
Although this post has gotten very long, this is just a small part of what I am learning to change in my world. The world I am truly safe in.
That one, the being safe, that’s a whole nother subject and work in progress. ļæ¼I am confident I will get there too.

Knowing that we are enough is really hard. I’m still going to say it anyway. And yes, I know. I need to listen to my own words.
It’s different with you though because I know you’re enough, I’ve never known that I am.
Working on it.

You, are enough. I see you. You are enough, you are beautiful inside and out, you are capable, worthy, important, and so very loved. 🄰 🄰🄰
You make the world go round!

06/03/2026

Am I the A-hole-
Do you ever listen to the ā€œAm I the A-holeā€ on Reddit or other platforms? I love them.
My favorite is Charlotte Dobre. She kills me šŸ˜‚

My age is showing.
I’m turning into my grandmother.
There are a ton of things in the presence that irritates me to pieces.
Today’s children drink water that has been sanitized, in Paris, bottled in holistically made bottles, only handled by people wearing 26 pairs of gloves, hair nets, full body suits, then shipped first class to the United States, brought to them on a red velvet pillow and we drank out of hoses.
Those were the good old days!
Aren’t thongs something you wear on your feet? Today, they are butt flossers!šŸ¤¦ā€ā™€ļø

One ā€œnew age thingā€ that goes right through me when I hear is….. We’re pregnant.
We’re. Pregnant.
We. As in both male and female. Both pregnant.
Yes, both are on a journey to being parents, but ā€œwe’reā€ pregnant?

I have been pregnant 3 times.
I don’t recall teamwork in throwing up while trying to brush my teeth. I don’t remember taking turns with the stabbing pain in my b***s because they are getting ready to feed babies. I don’t think anyone else watched their own body morph into a soccer mom van, making room for an entire human being.

How about the heart burn? Constipation, smell sensitivity, I still to this day cannot eat deer meat, ļæ¼not being able to take ibuprofen for the aches, just Tylenol that makes my tummy upset? Little feet pressing up on the ribs? Excessive exhaustion? A human being doing cartwheels inside of my body while I’m trying to sleep??

I don’t recall teamwork in any of these things šŸ¤”
Should we talk about the BIRTH?
Girly bits being stretched big enough to pull a watermelon out of it?? A bulldozer running through my tummy every one minute lasting one minute for 8 hours? Stitches in places that should NOT have stitches, sitz baths, witch hazel?

I remember someone standing next to my bed looking like they were going to projectile vomit, trying to hold my hand. And, me screaming DONT EFFING TOUCH me in a morbid, exorcist voice.

I’m sorry. Not sorry. But it is a known fact that history has shown us that women have always been considered the ā€œweakerā€ s*x and now we are allowing men to weasel their way into the thing that defines the biggest difference between men and women with, ā€œwere pregnantā€.

ļæ¼This makes me want to punch someone. In the Richard.
So… am I the A-hole? šŸ¤”

06/02/2026

I had a complete meltdown in the Circle K parking lot today.
At least, I think it was a Circle K… we have so many brands switching to different brands. I am easily confused. But I do think it was a Circle K.

I have been thinking an awful lot about my dad lately. Not that I don’t always think about him, but I found myself thinking I needed to call and ask him about something the other day. That hasn’t happened in a while.

I honestly think it has to do with the fact that my youngest grandchild, my only grandson, is turning one at the end of the month.
He is my daughter’s only child thus far, my daughter was my dad’s first granddaughter, it’s all kind of tied together.
He should have gotten to spend time with us all and watch these beautiful babies have babies, get married, build houses, learners permits, and drivers licenses, he was robbed and so were we.

I don’t know if I have ever talked about what happened immediately after my dad’s car was struck, the accident that ultimately led to his passing.
My dad was hit by a 1975 K-5 Blazer. A TANK. My dad’s newer Trailblazer crumpled like tinfoil.

Someone called 911. (Obviously)
I read in the report what time 911 was called and what time the paramedics were on scene.
My head wants to tell me it was like a minute and a half, but it would not have been feasible. I do know that it was less than 10 minutes. I remember reading it and being shocked at how quickly they were there. Maybe 7 minutes? It was quick.

The paramedics were not able to save his life entirely. What they did do was get to him quickly enough so that he did not die on scene, without his family.
I remember meeting with the doctors and them telling me that he was in a coma and we would have to see if he made it through the night. He was still alive due to the paramedics actions.
The doctor made this very clear.

My dad did make it through the night. He made it 19 days. Then his body couldn’t do it anymore. I felt like it was a torturous 19 days. He was touch and go, up and down, wins and losses, until the day I walked into his room and it was a frenzy.
His organs were failing.

He did not pass away on scene.
Thanks to the paramedics that were there and immediately took action, we got him for an additional 19 days.
We got to visit him, have conversations with him, hear his voice, give and get hugs for 19 days.

The day he left us, we all got to surround his bed, reminisce amongst ourselves, telling stories and sharing memories.
We got to tell him how much we loved him, and how grateful we were to have him in our lives.
We were able to let him go listening to his beloved Bison in Frisco.
We got to be somewhat in control instead of him passing away alone on the side of the road.

So you see, the 19 days were rough yet priceless time that not everyone gets and I am so, beyond grateful for this time we had.

I had just gotten in my car from the Circle K or wherever I was. I looked up and standing on the sidewalk in front of me was a paramedic. The paramedics of the day of the accident flashed in my head.

He was looking over to my right where there was another paramedic getting out of the vehicle or something of that nature.

I didn’t even have time to think. The next thing I know I’m getting out of my car and running towards him.
I am quite certain I scared him a little. Wouldn’t you be scared seeing this great big lady coming running at you? Yeah I’m sure he was concerned, but, anyway.

Once I reached him, I just said HI! He said hi back, looking at me with a bit of a questioning, yet kind look.
Then my voice started to quiver. The flood gates opened as I said, I just want to thank you for all you do, and started to share the story of the PRECIOUS 19 days those paramedics gave us all those years ago.
They were the hero’s for my family that day, and for many, many, many, other families, each and every day.

The other paramedic came up to us, kind of at the end of my quick run down so she was standing there too. I couldn’t help myself… I hugged them both really hard, thanked them again and told them are truly hero’s, and ran back to my car, crying my eyes out.
It felt amazing to hug them.

Thank you to all of our first responders.
You make a difference. Regardless of the outcome, you make a difference.
Even just knowing that you were with my dad immediately after the accident makes me feel so much better because I know that even though I wasn’t there, he felt safe. ļæ¼
You are heroes!
We are so grateful for the team that took care of my precious father that day.

I have to go now. I have to go wipe my tears and blow my nose again. ļæ¼
Much love from my entire family to all of you 🄰🄰🄰
Sanford Ambulance

ļæ¼

I now clearly understand the saying ā€œit’s the little things in lifeā€.
06/02/2026

I now clearly understand the saying ā€œit’s the little things in lifeā€.

05/29/2026

šŸ¤¦ā€ā™€ļø I can’t even with myself, anymore!
I thought it would be a great idea to clean out the garage yesterday, in near 100° weather.
This old ass isn’t as spry as it used to be… sigh.
BUT! I got a lot done with my OCD self!

Really?? A-hole!I’m effing driving here.
05/28/2026

Really?? A-hole!
I’m effing driving here.

05/26/2026

Too early?
ļæ¼ Annndddd then I ran over something as I was backing out of the garage šŸ¤¦ā€ā™€ļøļæ¼

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