In search of the elusive ‘solution‘ to the crushing feelings of sadness that creep up on me daily, I seem to have fallen into my own special fucked-up coping mechanism. Something unhealthy. You see, I have not wanted to admit this because I find it humiliating, yet I still do it.

Here it is: In the morning, after I drop off my son at school, come home, and later drop off my daughter, I go back to bed. I tell myself not to do it. I tell myself that I’m not going to do it. Then I tell myself I’m just going to relax in bed and read for a little while. But I know I’ll fall asleep, and I always do.

And I’m glad it happens.

Some days, I sleep late enough that I wake up with only enough time to grab a shower and maybe eat before it’s time to pick up the kids. Basically, I’m sleeping my life away. It’s bad. Really bad. And it’s really sad, too. And I know it. This is not what I want my life to be. But I feel empty. I don’t know how to cope with the overwhelming, unbearable, uncontrollable feelings of utter despair that stop me from facing the day.

I actively tell myself, even aloud sometimes, that it’s okay. It’s not as bad as my brain tells me it is. But I can’t kick the feeling. It’s physical as much as emotional. And fight as I may, the feelings come every day. No matter what. Every fucking day. And it hurts in every way. And I cry. And I hate that I’m crying and I hate that I feel these feelings but nothing eradicates them. I can’t prevent them and I can’t kill them.

I can only cover them up with sleep.

I don’t even know that I’m adequately describing those feelings. I don’t know that it’s possible for me to do so. I feel bored and hopeless and alone. I feel purposeless and pointless and useless. I don’t know what to do with myself. No, I take that back. I can think of plenty of mundane (or even enjoyable) things to do to pass the time—things that are more productive than sleeping. But I lack motivation. I call it lazy. My NP calls it depression. I’m pretty sure she’s right. But that doesn’t help me hate myself any less.

My NP also told me (without any prompting from me) what I’ve said all along. No medication is going to fix everything. [So please, if you want to tell me that I need to have my meds adjusted, pardon my bluntness, but fuck off.] I’m never going to pop some pills and become the fucking mistress of sunshine. That’s not how meds work. What has to happen is I need to change my way of thinking. I need the will to do it. And I need to try everything, even the things that sound ridiculous and corny to me. The meds (which actually did change slightly recently), hopefully, can get me to a place where I can try everything—where I actually have the drive to try everything.

My NP also notices, every time I see her, that I have taken some steps in the right direction. But I don’t see them. I only see my failures. I tell her how things are going, and she finds little things in there that she sees as achievements. I don’t notice them. I don’t acknowledge them. I don’t even notice when I mention them to her in passing like tiny meaningless details. But she says they’re not meaningless.

I really wish she was a full-on therapist because I really click with her. It’s like talking to a friend. And I truly believe that is exactly what I need—someone who feels like (or is?) a friend. But my NP’s not a therapist. I don’t know that I’ll ever find one who I click with in this way. And I don’t have the money or the drive to search.

So I guess it’s nap time.


©2018 what sandra thinks


Posted in anxiety, depression, life, writing | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

random things. #4

random - whatsandrathinks

I have over one hundred unread messages in my inbox. Again I’ve fallen insanely far behind. There is little hope of catching up. I’m sorry. I’m doing the best I can. My best just isn’t very good. I get overwhelmed so easily lately.

I truly hate this awful crop top trend that’s happening. No one looks good in a cropped anything… shirt, sweater, sweatshirt, hoodie… no no no! So stupid. And don’t get me started on ‘mom jeans‘. [And obviously, no offense intended. I have no idea what you’re wearing right now. This could be a total foot-in-mouth situation.]

What the hell is up with all the spam? I try to check my spam folder somewhat frequently to make sure no ‘real‘ comments are landing there. However, lately, when I check, I have so many that I can’t go through them all to see if any are legit. And by ‘so many‘ I mean three or four hundred. I checked yesterday… I had seven. I checked today… I have 326. What the hell? Is it the Russians? I think it’s the Russians.

I have officially surpassed 3500 followers. I mean the WP ones, not including the twitter ones that WP adds to the total. That seems completely mad. What is wrong with you people?? Seriously, though. A big fat thank you… and a big fat hug… to the 12 of you that actually read my blog.

Okay, maybe 23? 42? 57? Oh, but 42 is always the answer.

Thank you to all my fans.

I really hate when someone says (s)he or someone else is ## years young. That’s not a thing! Don’t try to make it a thing. You just sound like a fucking idiot. As the years pass, one gets older. You are 11 years old. You are 75 years old. Old, dammit!!! [For the record, I am FAR from 75 years old. And sadly, FAR from 11 years old, too.]

I was out shopping this afternoon for a coat. Not for me, for my husband. But that is irrelevant. What I wanted to say is as follows— To all stores on earth: Turn off the fucking Christmas music. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet. Hell, I’d be happier if they never played it at all. You know, I read a study (I love studies) that confirmed something I’ve known for years: Christmas music stresses people out. It makes people agitated and anxious. Did you know? I am a statistic.

I also went to Trader Joe’s earlier… while hungry. Just so you know—their dark chocolate peanut butter cups are fucking delicious. It’s okay that I ate them, though, because I also bought a salad. And some oranges.

Okay, I guarantee someone is going to laugh at me for this one… and that’s okay. I deserve it. Sigh. There’s this commercial that airs frequently at night. I usually see it during Colbert or Seth Meyers. And I look forward to it. It’s an ad for Botox. Yep. Botox. For men. And I’m totally in love with this one guy in the ad. He is fucking perfect and I want to know who he is. I’ve searched and searched, but Google has failed me. Google is not supposed to fail me. Dammit.

[Pictures of super hot guy removed due to comments that upset me because they are ruining him for me. *sadness*]

I have to go now. It’s past my bedtime and I need to stare at pictures of this guy for a little while until I fall asleep. Thank you and good night.


©2018 what sandra thinks


Posted in life, random, writing | Tagged , , , , | 71 Comments

birthday cake.

Yesterday was my daughter’s birthday. She is officially 11 years old now. If you follow me on instagram (which is not at all exciting), I posted about going out to dinner last night… which was delicious. I think I enjoyed it even more than I enjoyed the cake…

Which brings me to the cake… because mostly I’m just posting to show you the cake I made for our little family party last Saturday.

I wish I had something more earth shattering to say, but I really don’t. [Unless you follow me on twitter where you can see my weird-ass thoughts and anxieties play out in installments of 280 characters or less. Especially last night. And today.]

Anyway… have some cake.


©2018 what sandra thinks


Posted in family, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 51 Comments

then and now.

[I post this at the risk of showing my age. But I’ll never confirm anything so let’s just forget all about that right now. Thanks.]

Let’s face it… this owl was kind of a dick. He totally stole that kid’s lollipop.

Life is hard for kids these days. And I hate it for them. When I was a kid, things were simple and fun and easy. It’s not like that anymore. Not for me or for them. [And for me, it’s not even just because I’m an adult (although I hate being one). It’s because the world has changed. And NOT for the better.]

Because really…

This was pretty much the worst problem I had.

But in today’s world, my daughter deals with knowing way too much about her friends, their every move, and when she has been excluded… because of social media. When I was a kid, if some of my friends got together and didn’t invite me, I didn’t really care because I usually didn’t even know about it (nor did I need to know). Unless they used one of these… and didn’t forget to get the film developed. Then sometimes I knew. But I still didn’t care.

My son, in 8th grade, already feels pressure to know what he wants to do with his life just in case he wants to go to a high school other than our town’s ‘regular‘ public school. I am useless in advising or guiding him as I never figured out what I wanted to do with my life. And I still don’t know. I’ve had a number of jobs, none of which ever really satisfied me, and now, I’m laid off and unemployed. I am not exactly the right person to guide him! And he is thirteen. Thirteen! Do kids that age really know what they want to be? Obviously, I didn’t. And I don’t think it’s odd that he doesn’t either. [And let’s not even get into the subject of college… (How the fuck can anyone pay for that nowadays???)]

So my son feels some pressure to know what he wants for his future. Already. Hell, a difficult decision when I was a kid? Choosing between fruit punch and whatever the hell flavor the blue one was.

Or choosing between the cookie-flavored and chocolate-flavored lip gloss. (Yes, I owned this and ALL my friends were jealous.)

I wish my son could forget all of that and just go outside and pop a bunch of these bad boys.

If they still existed (I don’t think they do…but I could be wrong), I’d go out and get him some. In my awesome car.

And then there are the 13-year-old girls. I don’t get a lot of information from the boy. He’s at an age where he does not want to discuss such things with his mother. But once in a while, he mentions something in passing. Like today. He told me he makes a joke and he’s often ignored. Some super-popular kid makes the same joke and the girls think it’s hilarious.

I suppose that’s pretty timeless. Not really specific to the 2010s. But still.

Shouldn’t the girls just be watching movies wishing they had their own Lloyd Dobler? 

Maybe this is why so many boys just hole up in their room or basement with their xbox. But that turns into social media in a way, too, doesn’t it? Constant contact is a bad thing. Maybe just spend some time alone or with the people who actually live with you. Who needs an xbox?

But I guess wishing for things to be like they were during my childhood is asking too much. I mean, let’s face it, you don’t even get a toy in your Cheerios anymore.

Okay… I have to go. I’m getting a call. I wonder who it is…

Oh, and by the way… then or now? Then is the winner. There’s really no contest.


©2018 what sandra thinks


Posted in family, life, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 63 Comments

eleven things… plus pumpkins.

Today is Halloween. I haven’t written anything suitable lately, so I’ve decided to share something from long ago. From Nov 3, 2015, to be exact.

But before I get to that, I’ll share a couple of pictures I took today (along with zombie baby above that I took a couple of weeks ago).

I don’t think the Great Pumpkin is coming.

[Previously posted on November 3, 2015]

The series ended 12 [now 15… holy crap, I’m old] years ago, but it taught us some valuable truths. Read them. Heed them. And you can thank me later.

btvs spike and giles

11 things I learned from Buffy the Vampire Slayer

  1. Never underestimate the power of a pointy stick.
  2. If you only see that super-hot guy you like at night, he’s probably a vampire.
  3. Don’t eat all of the fundraising chocolate bars you’re kids bring home.
  4. Spend an inordinate amount of time in the library.
  5. Adding Weetabix to blood gives it texture for a lovely breakfast.
  6. Don’t bring friends and loved ones back from the dead – it never ends well.
  7. Even in the worst possible situation, sarcasm and humor are always good ideas.
  8. Bunnies are to be feared.
  9. Always bring kittens to a poker game.
  10. If one is a British man, he will sound intelligent and sophisticated and God damn sexy no matter what he is saying. [Okay, I knew this one a long time ago…]
  11. You can face life by doing things the hard way or… actually, there’s just the hard way.


Happy Halloween. May you eat too much chocolate with no regrets.

©2015-2018 what sandra thinks


Posted in advice, humor, list, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

this time. #poetry

fading roses.

I feel it
starting to surface
the sadness
from inside
Maybe it won’t ruin me
at least not this time

[FYI: I’m sort of okay. I didn’t just write this. I’m still having writing issues. I found this in a ‘rejected poems’ file.]

©2018 what sandra thinks


Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , | 28 Comments

random things. #3

random - whatsandrathinks

I guess there really is activity in my brain. Although ‘real’ writing eludes me still…

Dum-Dums has a special limited-edition flavor for fall. It’s apple cider and it’s amazing. Yes, I eat lollipops. Occasionally.

It’s fall (depressing) and temps have already been as low as 30°F. I try to hold out as long as possible before turning up the heat, but we had to do it. As such, I have determined that I need a humidifier for my bedroom. I do see the irony… I, hater of humid weather, am looking to add humidity to my home. It’s fucked up. But I need to. And I truly hate shopping for things like this because I have no idea how to choose. I’ve read so damn many Amazon reviews that I’m even more confused now than when I started. I don’t suppose anyone has a recommendation? Needless to say, I don’t want to spend a lot. But I don’t want to buy a piece of junk either.

My husband can see a small local airport out his office window. Today he saw a plane with the Wahlburgers restaurant logo on it. He and his coworkers looked up the ID number thingy from the plane (which ended with the letters MW) and found out that it’s Mark Wahlberg’s plane. [Below: Not the actual picture my husband took. He was farther away… but same plane.]

Today, I’m actually having a good back pain day. I’m not naïve enough to think this is a permanent change. It’s probably only because I didn’t do much today… didn’t even cook dinner. Yeah, I was pretty lazy today.

The more coffee I drink, the better I feel. Do I have a problem?

Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jealous of me for my coffee guy.

Here… how’s this picture?

Or maybe this one…

coffee - sleep when dead.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Moving on…

I love granola. I love it so much. I wonder if making my own would go well. I’ve never tried…

The Pinterest website is down. Thank god the app is working. I have to find a homemade granola recipe.


©2018 what sandra thinks


Posted in life, random, writing | Tagged , , , , | 20 Comments

in case you were wondering.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?

I cannot imagine anyone was actually wondering, but here’s an update on my back pain situation anyway.

How about a (not so) brief history/recap?

In October 2017 while at my yearly physical, I told my doc about my nagging lower back pain that I’ve had for years. I just figured I had to live with it, but I was tired of that. I had an x-ray which showed a small curve in my spine that no one would ever have known was there by looking at me. Hell, no one would know by my actions either. I hide that I’m in pain most of the time. Anyway, usually a curve like this would show up in a child, but I either never had it then or no one ever caught it. Yay me. (Sarcasm… in case that wasn’t obvious.)

My doc sent me to physical therapy. I went for about eight weeks before stopping because it didn’t help at all. [I still do the stretches every day, though. But they still don’t help the pain.]

I had an MRI before being referred to a pain management doctor.

For the next eight months, I tried everything he (and the PAs I saw) recommended.

A ‘test’ injection to see if blocking the nerves would help. Fail.

A PA (who I hated) suggested some vitamins, ibuprofen, and a muscle relaxer that made me so dehydrated that I got sick. Useless.

Same PA (who I hated) called and suggested an ESI (an injection). Which I had… but that was another fail.

A different PA (much better) suggested an ESI in a different location. I did that, but it didn’t help either.

The better PA then suggested another type of injection which I also had but… nothing.

Followed up with a third PA who suggested possibly trying one other injection in 4-6 weeks if my insurance approved. About a month later, I found out my insurance did not approve. The PA suggested a medication. I resisted at first but gave in and tried it anyway. It did nothing. She didn’t want me to stop taking it, but I was just done. I cancelled my follow up appointment and haven’t been back to the pain management office since.

Last month, I returned to my chiropractor. I had been seeing him for years but I took a break during all of the above. He had previously been mildly helpful with little things here and there, but nothing he did ever improved my lower back pain. Still, with new information about the pain, I figured it was worth a shot.

For reasons I cannot determine, my pain has been significantly worse since last week. I was out one day shopping (but not buying… seriously, what was even the point?) and I kept having these spasms. (I guess that’s what I’d call them.) I got this sudden burst of pain that made me take very slow, careful steps… and then it was gone. But it kept happening. It made me kind of gasp every time. That went on for five days. Then yesterday, it didn’t happen at all, but the pain in general was (and is) still worse.

Yesterday was also my next visit to the chiropractor. I was hesitant to keep the appointment because after my first visit back to him, the pain was worse. But I went anyway. I explained the spasm thing to him the best I could. I was pretty fucked up when he checked my legs… about a half inch short on the pain side (if you have been to a chiropractor, you’ll know what I mean). He did a few adjustments. The pain wasn’t worse afterwards this time, but it wasn’t better either. At least my legs are even now. Probably.

For now, I will continue to see him monthly(ish). For now. But it’s a specialist (higher) copay, and if it doesn’t make a difference soon, I’m done. I’m not hopeful. But I am out of options.

My mom doesn’t think I’m out of options, though. She thinks I should try yoga—a specific kind. I only found one place for it that’s close enough to me, and parking is a nightmare in that area. So I doubt I can do it anyway. Plus, I don’t have the ‘extra‘ money to pay for it.

Today I was at my new ‘regular‘ (higher) level of pain without any spasms. But I feel like I have to move very cautiously or I might have another gasp-worthy event at any moment. Tonight, by the time I was finished making dinner, I was nearly in tears because the pain was so bad.

So here we are.

It’s been a year and I’m not better… I’m worse. And my current ‘treatment‘ is exactly what I was doing a year ago before all of this.

It’s scary and upsetting because although I already assumed I would be in pain for the rest of my life, it’s much worse pain now. It makes my life horrible. It makes me sad and irritable and hopeless. I do my best to hide it, but I know I fail a lot of the time. I do what I have to do anyway, pain or not. But there are limits. There shouldn’t be limits. Not if I’m going to be a decent parent.

I was living my life at a 6 or 7 (on the above handy pain scale brought to you by Baymax). But now I’d say the average is 7 or 8… reaching 9 at times. Unless I do pretty much nothing. And what kind of life is that? I already don’t do enough…


[Sorry for the crazy length of this post.]

©2018 what sandra thinks


Posted in life, writing | Tagged , , | 38 Comments