This is ME! (Repost because it got 500 views in the first 2 hours)

This Is ME.I’m sitting at work, looking up kinky pictures and quotes on the internet as Christian radio plays faint in the background. Makes me giggle a bit. “Who turned this on?” I think to myself.I remember working at my moms store growing up where Christian radio played nonstop. I remember thinking “this is exactly where I need to be”. It’s not where I was, but where I thought society wanted me to be. I was miserable. And then I grew up..

As I browse through the thousands of kinky, BDSM-related pictures, all I can think is “THIS is exactly where I am, this is me” and it makes me happy. 
It’s amazing what a few years can do. You change yourself repeatedly until you finally figure out who you are. But once you find it, it’s bliss. 

Who I am isn’t necessarily what society thinks I should be. I’m non-conventional & strict non-conformist. I’m hell-on-heels, I like the darkness, and if it’s dirty, kinky, messy, or just plain wrong. I want it. I’ll make you beg, I’ll make you scream, and I’ll make you bite the pillow, but I promise you’ll like it. 

I’ll give you intellectual orgasms in multiples and allow temptation to drip from your ears. I’ll go down on your thoughts, and taste your perception. I’m a saint with the lips of a sinner. And an angel with a devilish kiss. I’m not vanilla, and will make your wildest fantasies a reality. I’m very attracted to men 25+ and women in their 30s and 40s (Something about knowledge with age thing) and I’m not afraid to admit my curiosities. You come onto me, I’ll reciprocate. 

What some women see as degrading, I see as empowering. Your pleasure is my pleasure, darling.. -Lennox

This is me. And I like this part of me. Once you learn to embrace your sexuality for what it is, you’ve won half the battle of figuring out who you truly are.


Immense Strides, Postive Vibes… Meets Reality. The Mind: Party of 1

I’m making immense strides in therapy. Some days like today, the pain still feels very real. And some days it’s still hard to get out of bed still hearing the voices they instilled in me. But I’m learning to push through it. For the 1st time in forever, I put on my ballet shoes, and got to dance. And for the moment, I’m okay. 


Let me tell you, today’s session threw me for a headspin. Out of nowhere I had so much to say… So much feeling.. So much truth.. So much.. Passion. And then, for the first time, I started to cry. For the first time in my entire life, I cried in front of someone. And then she said “Is that a tear I see”, slid the tissues my way, and just smiled. It surprised me that tears were even happening, and I think it surprised her a little too. But regardless, I needed to be vulnerable.. I needed to feel it, I needed her to see it, and in someway it represents the last bit of my mask falling away. Nobody has seen me that way, nobody has seen me crumble. But I know that I don’t have to hide from her, I don’t have to hide my feelings or my experiences, or my tears… She understands and that’s what I’ve needed for so long, is just someone to understand. Our sessions fill me with comfort and confidence that maybe, just maybe, that my fate doesn’t have to end up with me checking-out on my own clock, but rather the strength to hold on. “I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes, keep my glass full until morning light, ’cause I’m just holding on for tonight” Those words run circles in my mind.. Just holding on for tonight. They get me through until my next session.

I’m at the very beginning of starting to see things in a new light. But it seems so foreign to me.. Like a parallel universe where the laws of physics are suspended. What goes up does not necessarily come down, and a body at rest does not tend to stay that way. Not every action can be counted on to provoke an equal and opposite reaction. Time is also different. It may run in circles, go backwords, and skip. It’s all so new. I just never thought of things the way they’ve been presented to me lately.

I’ve learned that crazy isn’t being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It’s just you and me amplified. I no longer fantasize about death.. Rather just know that it’s always a possibility in the back of my mind.. Some people say that having any conscious opinion on the matter is a mark of sanity, but I’m not sure that’s true. I still think about it. I’ll always have to think about it. Suicide is a from of premeditated murder. It isn’t something you do the first time you think about it. It takes getting used to. You need the means, the 0pportunity, the motive. A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind. 

Being A Vagina Owner 101

So, as far as I know.. I’ve been a vagina owner for 23 years. And by that, I definitely mean I’m aware I’ve had one… for 23 years. I’ve always been pretty in-tune with things that are going on down below. However, some people aren’t that perceptive, or perhaps they just don’t care about the health of their lady-bits. If you’re one of those people, stop the neglect right now. Having a healthy vagina is very important and here I will share some tips, tricks, and things from experience.


Ok, so as far as I know, most women know their way around a shaver, so I don’t need to go over the basics. If you DON’T know how to use a shaver, you’re probably too young to be reading my blog anyways, so you should probably just click the little “X” in the righthand corner and go onto like or something. Anyways. Just a few tips on how to make shaving that region easier. First off, use some sort of soap, preferably formulated for that area. Summer’s Eve has a great line of scented vagina soaps, lack of a better word. They tend to be a little more gentle than other soaps that can throw off your pH balance. Some people disagree with using any kind of soap in that area, but as long as your not like putting it directly inside, I don’t really see the problem. Ok, so after you get done shaving, its super important to exfoliate the external area with a sugar scrub or some sort to get rid of excess dead skin to make it smooth. Once you get out of the shower, put an unscented or oatmeal lotion on the freshly shaved area. (Note: If you don’t shave your vagina on a pretty regular basis, you will probably find that you have more irritation or ingrown hairs than a person who does it on the daily.) The more you shave that area, the less irritation you will get each time you shave.

Feminine Odor:

I could go on about this for hours. Lets face it, vaginas have a smell. Some smell better than others, but unfortunately they have a specific scent. I have tried dozens of products over the past few years in search of the perfect solution to this common “problem”. I guess I wouldn’t even really consider it a “problem” but for some women, it really is. So here are my findings. If you use wipes instead of toilet paper whenever you use the restroom, you won’t notice that you have much scent at all. A lot of women use wipes directly after they workout (Note: Vaginas have more sweat glands than an armpit), but I use them all day. They make me feel clean and confident. Along with using specially formulated soaps and wipes, I just recently discovered that the BEST thing to combat smell is…. *drumroll please* ….. Body powder! Summers Eve makes a body powder that is safe to put in your sensitive areas. Literally, I’m a lifetime user from here on out. I’ve been using it for about 3 weeks, and I have not found a better product yet. Vaginas self-clean, and sometimes stuff just… comes out. You ALL know what I mean. If you don’t feel like using powders or soaps, even just wearing a pantyliner and changing it a few times a day helps. Doctors suggest that wearing cotton underwear is best, since it is a material that “breathes”. Buuuuut… I don’t like cotton underwear… I like lace. I actually find that cotton holds onto unnecessary moisture, and I hate that feeling. Moving on.

The Clitoris:

Did you know that the clitoris isn’t just limited to the pea-sized bump we typically think of when you think about a clitoris. The clitoris is actually an organ shaped similar to an upside-down wishbone. The clitoris actually extends about 3 inches down on each side of the vulva. So the part that you can see is only about 10% of the actual size of the clitoris. Thats why some women have found that they find great pleasure from stimulating the parts next to and around the exposed area. The external area isn’t always the most sensitive. Sorry guys, anatomy class told you that the exposed part is the sweet-spot, but unfortunately everyone is different. Forward we march.

The Itch You Just Can’t Scratch:

Everyone gets an itch in that area from time to time. But for some, its an itch that persists and that just doesn’t seem to get any better. A lot of women feel like vaginal itch is pretty common around the time of their period. That is pretty normal.. I mean theres excess fluid coming out at sometimes alarming rates and you just feel kind of icky. If you are experiencing itch that lasts more than a couple days after your period, theres a chance that you might have a yeast infection. You vagina is always at war with itself in balancing good bacteria and yeast, and sometimes the yeast wins. Another time that women might experience itch is while taking antibiotics. After all, they deplete you of bacteria in areas other than which they are intended. So obviously I don’t need to tell you that if the itching persists or gets worse that you need to see a doctor. However, if you have been on an antibiotic, all you need to do is call your doctor and they can put you on a med or get you some creme no questions asked. And onward.

Be Aware:

Lastly, the most important tip of all is to just be body conscience and aware of what your body is doing and when. Its good to check yourself out down there every couple of weeks to make sure things are up to par. Especially if you’re having sex. Women who masturbate on a regular basis are very perceptive of any changes to their vagina, but for women who don’t.. its really important that you check things out too. Lay down on your bed and use a mirror to investigate.

There is no rule that says that your vagina has to look any specific way, smell a specific way, and function a specific way. Be confident and love every part of yourself. You were built this way for a reason, and every part of you is beautiful. ❤

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Involuntary Memory Supression/False Memories

Many studies have been done to prove that our brains are capable of involuntarily blocking out painful memories. I, myself have experienced this first-hand. In fact there is an entire 3-4 year period of time that doesn’t exist in my mind. Because of the journals and writings I kept, I know some of what happened during that time. However, if I actually try to think back to specific circumstances, conversations, etc.. It is just all so black. It’s like my mind comes to a fork in the road and just stops as if there’s nowhere else to go.

A little information to aid this writing: Supressing memories is associated with increased activity in the left and right frontal cortex (the part of the brain used to suppress memory). Which in return leads to reduced activity in the hippocampus (the part of the brain used to remember experiences). The better a person is at activating the frontal cortex, the more likely they are to be able to suppress memories. Obviously this isn’t something a person can just turn on and off, it is involuntary, but it has a big play into those “blackout” periods we sometimes experience. Not only can your brain block out memories, but your brain can also create false memories. These are usually not trauma-oriented, rather due to lack of sleep, lack of nutrition, and misinterpreted information that the person truly believes to be real. You can actually convince yourself of false memories. The more you try to convince yourself they are real, the more you believe it.

Ok. This is the conclusion of the psychology portion of this writing. The next part is about to get very personal. So feel free to stop here.. Or read on! What I’m about to write has never been said out loud.

When I was about 5 years old, my mom took me to see a family psychiatrist/nutritionalist. My mom had blood work done on me about a week prior, in order to be able to share the results with the uh… We will call him Sir.  I remember going and sitting down in his office, and he began to ask me questions. I refused to answer any of his questions on front of my mom. She was then asked to leave the room and go sit in the waiting room. The next thing I remember is looking down and seeing my green polka-dot dress crumpled    up on the floor next to me. I remember feeling cold, and uncomfortable, and that I wanted my mom. And after that day, anytime my mom would want me to go back to see him, I would feel extremely anxious and would cry. All I knew is that his office made me very uncomfortable and that I did NOT like him.

Years later, I was at a church event through school and we were about to have lunch. When I walked into the dining area and got in line, right as I was about to be served, and I realized that the counselor from before was serving lunch. I remember that I felt my face turn beat red, I was extremely uncomfortable, and I felt like I needed to set my food down and run as fast as I could in the opposite direction. And because the church event was something all my friends went.                        to, I continued going every Tuesday for an entire school year. I would see him every week, and I would try to hide from him, afraid that he might say something to me.

This is the part that to this day still creeps me out… At one point in high school, I came to my mom and told her that I thought I needed to be put on some kind of medicine for depression. And instead of making an appointment with a doctor, she lied to me and said that I would have to see a counselor before a doctor would put me on anything. So I complied and agreed to see a counselor first. The following week, my dad picked me up from school and brought me to my counseling appointment. As I got out of his truck, I walked up to the building and had an eerie flashback like I had been to this place before. I looked at the name on the side of the building, and instantly recognized it. My heart started to beat out of my chest and I then remembered being here once before…when I was 5…wearing my favorite green dress.

When he came out to take me back to his office, I almost backed out. I almost told him that I was feeling ill and that I was just going to schedule for a later date, however.. I had no way home until my dad came back at 5, which was an hour and a half away. So I put on my brave face and followed him back to his office and sat down. He then said to me “So, why are you here today?” And I replied, “I don’t know. I guess I’ve been feeling really sad lately.. and I’ve been having panic attacks.” Then without saying anything, he handed me a folder with my name on it, and inside was 3 different packets. One on anxiety, one on depression, and one on sexual abuse. And then came the question. “Do you have any rememberance of sexual abuse in your past?” The way he said it, led me to believe he knew something that he wasn’t telling me. I’m very good at reading people, and the look on his face showed remorse.. I wondered why he phrased the question the way he did. Do I remember? Instead of “Has there been…” And I looked at my lap and said “Nope”. He leaned over and grabbed the pamphlet out of my folder and said “Alright” and then began talking about anxiety and depression totally disregarding anything I had to say. He talked to me in a voice that you might use while talking to a child. He made me feel dumb and naive, and I couldn’t take it. I closed the folder and stood up. I lied and said that I had a piano lesson to get to. He looked at me and said “you’re not coming back, are you?” I sternly said “NOPE!” And opened the door and walked out.

To this day, I still only have a faint memory of the day at the office when I was 5. Most of my life I’ve convinced myself that it was something I made up, or that I just wasn’t remembering it quite right. To be 100% honest with you, I’m still not sure what happened between Sir and I that day. The only thing I know is the shame and embarrassment I feel whenever I stumble across him every so often. I know the anxiety and the feeling that I need to run. But I constantly question whether my mind has involuntarily blocked out the office visit or if it was something that I just forgot over time. Unfortunately, it’s something I may never know.

In conclusion, the brain is a great thing. It’s potential is limitless. However, sometimes it’s provides us times of misinterpretation and confusion or conflicting memories. Unfortunately there’s no quick or easy way to decifer between or bring out repressed memories. Some people are able to recover repressed memories through therapy, and some people believe that hypnosis can be a powerful tool in unlocking the mind. Some memories are never able to be recovered. 

Therapy Misconception: “Confession”

Therapy. Ah, I topic I revisit often. As I learn, I am trying to debunk misconceptions commonly associated with seeing a shrink, therapist, psychiatrist..etc etc etc. But as for today’s misconception, it is that it’s just like confession. You sit down, and confess your sins, and you be saved.. Yeahhh, it’s not quite like that. For me, it’s mostly like I confess my “sins” and we laugh about it for awhile, and it makes me feel better. I just have to laugh at myself sometimes when I’m telling stories of my past to. Hearing some of the stuff I’ve said and done and actually saying it out loud is extremely cathartic. 

Cathartic: Providing psychological relief through the open expression of strong emotions; causing catharsis or an emotional purge.

But in my case, cathartic is a fun little word my therapist uses often, and has now become an avid part of my vocabulary.

There’s something about conversing with another being of higher intelligence. She is smart.. Very smart..(Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m talking about you again. This is the part where you smile) and that allows us to be able to level with each other in complete honesty and be able to understand and relate.

Back to the misconception. No, it does not feel like a confession session. Confession session. Confession session. Say that 5 times fast. It just feels like I’m letting someone in and telling them the story about my life. It’s refreshing, somehow in the matter of only a short couple months, my therapist has managed to break down every wall I’ve put up to truly see what’s really behind them. (Except tears..If those happen, she will have made it further than any other human being thus far)  It’s really scary but comforting. I can be 100% honest and shame-free and that, my friends, is real trust.

I hear about people who have been in therapy for years on end, and still don’t find that sort of freedom in their therapist. I’m really lucky. Makes the whole “confession” thing pretty damn easy. If you don’t leave with a smile on your face, you need to find someone who does that for you. If you are lucky enough to not only be counseled but to be able to counsel them or make their day better, there is truly no better feeling. If you don’t leave feeling better than when you walked in, you need to move on. Fortunately, I have no complaints at this point, only great things to say. And through my experiences, I have encouraged a couple of people to see a therapist for the first time, and they have… They can now feel the sense of freedom I feel as well.

Nothing in life is guaranteed. And the euphemism most commonly used is “There’s a chance that you could walk out these doors and get hit by a bus, you just never know.” There’s only 86 400 seconds in a day, to turn it all around or throw it all away. Gotta tell them that we love them when we got the chance to say, you gotta live like you’re dying.

And by that I mean, cherish the ones that make you laugh, get rid of the ones that make you cry.. And if you’re lucky as me, you will find someone that’s there for you during times of both. I could not be spending my money on anything better. You just can’t put a price on mental health. 

The Rest Is Still Unwritten

This week I went through all of my storage bins to find my journals, lyric notebooks, and other written works. I have stuff saved dating back to 1998 when I was only 5 years old. My first story I wrote was about a lost puppy, and was completely fictional. As my writing went on, it started to personify itself into something more real. I began writing stories and books and started creating characters from the ground up. I knew their name, exactly what they looked like, and hobbies and interests even before I began writing the story.

My characters took on personality of their own, yet in every single character, there was a piece of me. Whether it’s what the character wore, how they talked, or even what issues they dealt with on a daily basis. As I would write, I would find that my own secrets and insecurities would fill the page as the character took life. I’ve never been good about talking about my feelings, and I’ve always been better at putting my feeling into text. My stories are literally a story of my life to an extent, or where I see my life going. 

I lived through my characters, and their problems, resembling my own, I would find solutions. And if I didn’t like the outcome, I would erase it and start over. This way I could create the ideal situation. I had control of every characters destiny. Sometimes I wish that I could take an eraser to life. I would erase the people of whom shaped me and see who I would become without influence. I would erase the times I felt sad, and the times of confusion. Then I would re-write it. I would re-write it to be the perfect version of what I think life should be.

As I’ve gotten older, my writing has become very real and very honest. I no longer need to hide behind the face of a character to be able to portray what’s going on in my life. For a long time, my writing was all I had, and as people would read my stories, I always hoped that they would see me within it. I hoped that they would see my pain and want to help. I was literally crying out for help to anybody that would read my work. And I needed help, but that was the only way I knew how to ask for it. I was ashamed of myself, and I would walk around with my happy face on, and nobody knew what was behind it, not even my own family. Theater taught me to be someone I wasn’t, and it came easy to me. 

Instead of hiding behind a character, I hide behind online identities and pseudonyms for my own protection, not because I am afraid to admit who I am. Once you have been a victim of blackmail and sextortion, it’s easiest to be someone else. So to you all, my name is Lennox, and I’m very happy you are here. Even though I cannot control most things, I am the author of my own destruction, and for the moment, that’s ok. This is only the beginning, and I have dreams bigger than life. But for now… The Rest Is Still Unwritten.

Starting Over- Chapters 1,2,3

Written: 2006


Gaaasp! I quickly sat up in bed and frantically looked around the room in disbelief of all that was real. Another nightmare. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face into my hands. Why do my thoughts plague to wake me every single night? Its my third month in the Coleman Institution, and I still haven’t slept through a whole night.

I tied back my long brown hair and laid my head back down on my pillow in hopes of getting a few hours of sleep. I looked over at my alarm clock and squinted to try to make out the numbers. It read 3:17AM. Breakfast was at 7, so I closed my eyes and even though I couldn’t sleep, I rested.

Before I knew it, my 7AM alarm was going off. I looked over at my roommate who always seemed to sleep through the alarm. She layed there motionless, peacefully asleep. I didn’t really want to wake her, but I knew I had to. I sat up in my bed and grabbed a pillow. I threw the pillow at her. “Annie, get up!” I yelled. “Maureen..” she groaned. Nobobdy ever calls me by my full name, except Annie. I usually go by Maury.

“Come on Annie, we have to get up now!” Annie sat up. “Alright Maureen, I’m up”, she giggled. Before we left our room, we made our beds so we wouldn’t have to make them when we get back form breakfast. As we were finishing up, there was a knock on the door. I looked at Annie, we exchange looks. Nobody ever knocks on our door. After all, we aren’t allowed to lock the doors here. Most people just walk in uninvited.

Annie walked over to the door, “Who is it?” she asked. ” Its Sara! Hurry up, you guys are going to be late for breakfast.” Annie opened up the door. The girls began to walk down the hall toward the cafeteria. “Did you guys hear about Bailey?” Sara asked. “No, what happened?” I questioned. “She went through with it last night..” The doctors said she isn’t coming back this time either.” Sara explained. “Thats too bad” Annie said sarcastically.

When we go to the cafeteria, we sat down at our table. We always sit in the same spot, the second table from the left. There was kind of a dark, hazy feeling clouding up the cafeteria. Only a few people were talking, but most were silent.

Right before everyone got up to grab their breakfasts, Abigail, the head of the institution got up onto the platform and turned on her microphone. “Hello? Can everyone hear me?.. Ok some of you may have heard, but one of our own has taken their own life. Miss Bailey Rae Graffum. She was 19.. so very young. So was a friend to many of you, so please be respectful of those who knew her. Lets have a moment of peace for Bailey.” Those 10 seconds of peace we had were 10 seconds I never hoped to have. We all thought she was getting better. “If any of you need to make early appointments with your counselor, you can go talk to Jude,” Abigail said.

“Table 2, you may get your breakfast.” I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even hear her call us up. “Table 2!!” She irritable recalled. We got up to the serving line and we each were handed a tray. Another morning of oatmeal and toast. I smiled and said “thank you.” We sat down at our table and began eating. After awhile, I noticed that Annie wasn’t eating. She was just picking at her food to make it look like she had eaten some. “Annie, why aren’t you eating?” I said. “I’m just so sad about Bailey” she lied. “Annie, thats crap! We all know that you and Bailey hated each other, don’t lie to me… You’re in a relapse aren’t you!!?” I said. “No I’m just not hungry today” she said quietly. “Annie, you never seem to be hungry, but you know that if you don’t eat, they aren’t going to give you grounds or leisure privileges!”

Like everyone else here, Annie has a good reason to be here. Annie has anorexia. She has on the most severe cases here. one time she didn’t eat for 2 months. Well.. thats the rumor that went around once she got her. It makes sense though, because when she first came here, she was put in the Angel Wing. Then Angel Wing is for people who can’t sustain life by themselves. She was put on a feeding tube.

We all have a reason for being here and we all have a story to tell. People always ask me how I ended up here, and to be completely truthful, I’m not really sure. I’m not crazy like some of these nuts. I’m just different than most people. I’m here because I couldn’t decipher the thoughts in my head. They were just all jumbled up telling me to do things I shouldn’t, and no matter the situation, I would always react. I threatened to take my own life, and somebody took me seriously.

I didn’t say it to be serious. I said it to hear myself say it, to make myself aware of that I’m capable of. In some way it was a relief for me to let it out in a moment of deep disturbance. It was more of a disappointment in myself, and a reminder of how I can never be good enough, no matter how hard I try. I’ve always been the person people walk all over. I’m the one people go to when they have nobody else, and when they get bored of me, I don’t matter. Whatever, it can be their problem, not mine.

I love newcomers here at the Institute. Everybody’s stories are different. Here at Coleman, we have your usually psychopaths and sociopaths. We have a few bulimic and even more anorexics. There are some with bipolar and personality disorders, then you have people like me. So as you can see we have mild to severe cases of crazy here.

It was about 9AM, so I needed to get ready to meet with Dr.Roreny. He was my counselor. I explained to him that I don’t like doctors, so we came up with a “pet name” thats less intimidating. I now call him Rory.

For some reason, Rory want me to start writing in a journal on a daily basis. I didn’t want the stupid journal, but Rory said it would help decipher and sort out my thoughts. I decided to give it a try. Even after 2 weeks of this journaling thing, I still don’t get the point. The only thing I’m doing is putting the things going on in my head down on paper. So not only do I get to think about the jumble in my head, now I have to read about it too. Gosh, Rory doesn’t know what he’s talking about sometimes. This just makes it that much worse.

Dear Diary,

I still don’t understand why I have to write in you, and personally, I don’t like it.. but today I am feeling hopeless. I’m sick of being here, and I’d rather be dead.

“Maury, do you really wish that you were dead?” “Nah, I just said that”I explained. “See, these are the comments that make me worried” Rori said sympathetically. “Ugh, I hated when Rory had to read my journal out loud. Its like bringing back the past. “Maury, why do you feel hopeless?” ” I don’t know, I just write stuff, I told you that before!” I raised my voice. “Well there has to be a reason behind why you wrote that.” “I really don’t think so..pshh, that was 2 weeks ago, I don’t remember why I wrote that,” I lied. “I think you do, you just aren’t telling me..” Rori said. “Ohh man Rory, my time is up, I better go. Seeya later.” I jumped up. “Maury, you leave when I say we are done.” “Come on Rory, I will be back in on Wednesday, Its two days”…”Fine, just go.”

CHAPTER 2: Outing For Two

We finally got Annie to eat her breakfast after 2 weeks of pleading. Even thug it was just a half of a piece of toast, it was enough to convince the Coleman workers that she deserved to have grounds privileges. It had been awhile since Annie had been outside.

It doesn’t seem like such a big deal to be inside all the time, but it is. Especially when you aren’t allowed to be out, no matter how beautiful the weather is. It tends to wear on you.

Today I decided that I would use my last grounds privileges pass to spend outside with Annie. After all, Coleman has the most beautiful butterfly garden. There are lots of multicolored flowers in every color form the rainbow. There is even a river that flows around the garden and empties into a holding pong with lot sod goldfish.

Today happened to be the nieces day this week. The sun is out,a nd its 80 degrees with a slight breeze. Even though someone had to monitor us while we were in the garden, it was still nice to have a little bit more privacy then usual.

When Annie and I got out to the garden, we found a nice grassy hill to lay on. I sat down, layer back, and closed my eyes. The cool breeze blew through each blade of grass and made a sort of whistling noise. It was so calming, so serene. I slowly inhaled, and I dare not let it out. The air felt so clean. As I laid there I was reminded of my life before Coleman. I used to be so free, and going outside to lay in the grass was so normal for me on a daily basis.

Now that I’m here, I don’t get out as much. Rory decides how many grounds passes I get a week, and since last time I saw him, I was stubborn, I only got one this week.

I opened my eyes. “Maureen, look at that cloud, it looks like an elephant” We both laughed. “It sure does Annie… You know you can call me Maury, right?” I said. “I know, but I like to call you Maureen. Its pretty, and it reminds me of a princess or something like that.” She smiled. “Really?? because I HATE my name.” I said sternly. “Well I like it.. so thats that.” Annie laughed.

Gosh, I never wanted this day to end. Annie is my best friend here at Coleman, and she reminds me that more and more everyday. Watching the clouds with Annie reminds me of the times I spent with my friend Jenni back at home. “Maureen?” “Yeah?” I said. “Have you ever wondered if theres somebody up there, you know.. watching us?”Annie asked. “Well, I guess I haven’t really thought about it that much.. but I can tell you this much. If theres a God up there, he sure as hell don’t care about me, so no, I don’t there is.” I said angrily. “You know Annie, I’m really don’t know what to say anymore, I’m just not really sure about much these days.”

I couldn’t help but think about the conversation I had with Annie once I got back to my room. What if she was right, and there really was a God? I’ve been thinking and I decided that there has to be SOMETHING out there bigger than all of this, you know? Theres just no other way to explain it. Its all so confusing to me though, like how could just one person have the control over the whole world, it just doesn’t make sense.

CHAPTER 3: The Move

Annie is doing a lot better lately, and so am I. Annie has gained albs, which brings her up to a hefty 92lbs. I was put on a new medication, and it has been working out very well for me. Annie and I both visit with Rory 2-3 times a week. He’s seen a lot of progress in us too, and finally let us move to the Serenity Wing. The serenity wing is the last room change before we get to leave Coleman.

I like it a lot better here. We have bigger room, more privileges, and a whole lot more freedom. We take a lot of field trips too. Most people here aren’t crazy. They are addicts. Oh, and I forgot to mention the best part. There are boys here!!

Coming from the all-girls treatment wing, its deferent being with guys again. When Annie and I first walked in, we noticed this guy watching us form the couch as we moved things from the hallway into our room. There was something about him that absolutely intrigued me. Everytime we would walk up and down the halls, he would just watch.

Sometimes if we knew he was watching, we would turn and look at him at the same time. He would then looks away for a moment or start fiddling with something and act as if he wasn’t staring in the first place. He’s been watching us for a few weeks now, and I desperately want to know who this guy is.

Annie was sitting in our room reading a book one day, and I knew it was the perfect opportunity to go and talk to this boy by myself. “Hey Annie, I’m going to go for a walk, so I will see you in a bit.” I said. “You know, that sounds like a good idea, wait up for me!”Annie exclaimed.

CRAP! What do I do now, I don’t want Annie to come with. This is something I needed to do alone. “You know Annie, I’m just going to go to the cafeteria and get a shake,” I lied. “Oh, never mind then, I’m at a good part in my book anyways.”

I know it was mean to lie to Annie, but I knew that the thought of food in between meals would absolutely disgust Annie. I couldn’t tell Annie where I was actually going. Over the last week, I had gained a particular liking for this boy, even though we’ve never even talked. I opened the door to our room and gently shut it behind me, trying not to arise any unwanted attention from the surrounding rooms.

I started to walk down the hall. My heart began to beat out of my chest, and I could feel the adrenaline pumping throughout my veins. I felts as if I was a kid on a mission to get to the cookie jar without their mom catching them. As I drew nearer to the community room, I began to slow down. What was I doing? I can’t just walk up to this guy and begin talking to him. I don’t even know him! What would I say? Well if I don’t talk to him, maybe I can just watch him from afar for awhile.

I peeked around the corner and looked at the couch. He wasn’t there. I don’t understand it. I’ve never seen him anywhere but the couch. Had he left Coleman and went home? I walked over to the couch and sat down. I grabbed a nearby newspaper and pulled it up closer to my face and began reading.

After about 15 minutes, I was about to leave. Then, someone sat down beside me. Still hidden behind my newspaper, I wondered if it was the boy. I cautiously began to slide the paper down just enough to peek over the top to see who it was. It wasn’t him. To tell you the turn, I’m a little disappointed that it wasn’t the boy, but at the same time, I felt a huge sense of relief. I had no clue what I would have said to him anyways.

I folded up the newspaper, set it back on the table, and grabbed my stuff to leave. Just as I stood up, I bumped into someone and nearly knocked them over. “Oh, I’m sorry..” Just as fast as the words came out, I realized who I was talking to. It was him! The boy just stared at me wide-eyed. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. I looked around just to make sure he was actually looking at me and not something else. There was hardly anybody around. He was definitly looking at me.

I couldn’t help but to notice how incredibly blue and glossy his eyes were. He was absolutely, positively, no doubt about it, the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen. He was tall and slim, and had curly brown locks that twirled around his ears and perfectly framed his face. It felt like time had stopped as we stood there. I continued to gaze into his eye, and wondered what he could possibly be thinking at this very moment. The boy, still like a deer in the headlights began to talk. “Um.. Hi.”

“Hi.. I’m Maury. Well actually its Maureen, but I usually prefer Maury, but you can call me what you want.. Maury.. Mauree.. Baby. Uh, I didn’t mean to say that” I blushed. “Maury. I like that. My name is Nicholas, but I usually go by Nick.” “Nice to meet you Nick. I uh, have a question for you though” My heart began to beat faster. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask him. “I guess I’ve noticed that you’ve been watching me..” I said. “Oh man, I hoped that you didn’t notice, I’m sorry” he interrupted. “No, no, no, its fine, its really no big deal. And to tell you the truth, I’ve been watching you too.” I admitted. “Yeah, I’m aware ” he laughed. “Oh well, I guess neither of us are very good at being discrete.” ” I guess not,” he chuckled.

“So I have to know, why have you been watching me?” I asked

“You are beautiful and you just have this presence about you that attracted me to you the first time I saw you. I guess you seem a lot different than most girls.” He said.

“I feel the same way about you!”

“Really? Wow. This is weird” he said.

“Whats weird?” I asked shyly.

“I don’t know. I guess its just that I’ve never felt this strongly about a girl I’ve never talked to before.”

“Yeah, I guess things are hard to explain sometimes.” I couldn’t do anything but smile. I wished that we could talk forever, he was incredibly sweet.

“Oh, look at the time, I better get going, I told my roommate that I would be out too long.” I said.

“Ok, but Maury?”

“Yeah?” I asked

“Can I see you again, like maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure how about the same time, same place.” I suggested

“Yeah! Its a date!” He said proudly.

“A.. what??” I asked.

“Uh, nothing, see you tomorrow.”

I started off down the hall hoping Annie wouldn’t be upset that I took longer than I thought I would. I got to the room, took a deep breath and walked in.

“Hi Annie.” I said with an uneasy feeling. “Geesh! I never thought you would come back!” She said. “Yeah…” I said nervously. “How was your snack,” she asked. “Oh, it was alright.” Annie looked skeptical. “Ok Annie, I liked to you. I didn’t go to the cafeteria, I went to talk to the boy.” I said panicked. “I know” she said calmly. “What? you know???” I questioned. “Yeah, I know. When your friend says they will be right back and they go missing for over an hour, you start to wonder. I went to come and find you, and I saw you talking to him.”

“I’m sorry Annie, I should have told you.” I felt so guilty. “Its ok Maureen. It looked like he likes you!” She said excitedly. “I uh.. like him too,” I mumbled. “You dooo??” she shrieked. “Yeah but lets not make a big deal about it or anything. It probably wouldn’t work out between us anyways.”


Summer Memories-Short Story

(Written: 2006)

Remembering back to last summer, the memories I’m wanting back. The week I spent with him, I’ll never forget. He was one of the best things that happened to me that summer. Aiden, wow I really do miss him. We do talk quite often over email, but seeing him in person means so much more. Summer’s coming again soon, so I’ll get to see him again.
After last years summer camp, Sophie left in wonder. Could Aiden really like her, or is she just being led on? She wasn’t sure. With everything that happened, its almost a given that there was something between them.
Sophie sat there on her bed wondering. Aiden was so nice to her, how could he possible not like her? “Even though we live in different states, there still is a chance that he likes me!” Sophie thought to herself. Plus, Aiden and Sophie had known each other since they were very young. They met at camp, and were never the same again.
Sophie took out her diary and began writing: “Dear Diary, I think Aiden might like me. He talks to me all the time, and gives me really awesome advice when I need it. I think I’m going to gain the courage to ask him how he feels about me. I’m really scared.”
Sophie sighed and laid her head on her soft pink embroidered pillow. What if he really did like her? But what if he didn’t? Sophie would be crushed! She said a short prayer, and then took out her Bible to start reading. After awhile Sophie began to grow more and more tired, and soon fell asleep.
“Sophie. Sophie! Wake up!!” said a voice from the distance. Sophie opened her eyes to see her mom standing right above her calling her name. “Wake up Sophie, its time for school, you slept through your alarm, and need to get up soon!” Sophie sat up and yawned. She stood up and stretched out. “Ugh, I only have 15 minutes until school starts!” Sophie thought to herself. She quickly got ready and was off to school
“Gosh, only 2 more hours left until school was over!” said Sophie’s friend Elle.
“ I know!” proclaimed Sophie. The rest of the day seemed to pass very quickly. Before Sophie knew it, the last bell rang, and school was over with. When Sophie got home from school, she decided to go on Facebook. Sophie opened up a separate computer window and decided to write Aiden a message. She began typing. “Hey Aiden, how are you? Anything new going on in your life. Well talk to you soon. P.S. This is really random, but it’s a question that has been killing me to know the answer to. How do you really feel about me. I mean, do you think we could ever have a future together?”
Sophie took a deep breath and pressed send. For the rest of that day, Sophie waited around in wonder. For about 2 months Sophie had been talking to one of Aidens friends from camp and saying how much she really liked Aiden. Her name was Heather. So later that night Sophie got a phone call from Heather. “Hey uh, Sophie? I need to tell you something. Aiden told me about your messege. He really had no clue that you liked him. I don’t know how to tell you this, but.. he’s actually going to ask out another girl tomorrow. I’m really sorry Sophie.” “Okay, thanks for telling me Heather, goodbye.”
Sophie hung up the phone and ran to her room almost in tears. How could he? Even after he knew she liked him? Sophie slammed the door to her room jumped on her bed and began sobbing. Could this be the end of their friendship all-together, or could there still be a future for them later in life?

Fading Away- Song Lyrics (BrittanyStengel ©2010)

Fading Away (Written:2010)

When there’s nothing left to live for
And theres nothing left to say
You see the eyes of the children
It’s not easy to walk away

She’s far too young to understand
Why Mommy’s never home at night
Daddy hasn’t been around
Since their last fight

I saw Mommy this morning
Begging on her knees
Tears falling from her eyes
Hands in her lap..folded
She was staring at the sky

She had a love for her baby,
That was resting on faith
Thats why every weekday night,
She would give herself away.
Now she’s broken down
She’s fading away
Just to keep them alive
He turned her life to grey..