20 Game Of Thrones Characters And The One Thing I Want To Ask Them

I’m a HUGE Game of Thrones fan, book reader and show watcher (CANNOT WAIT FOR WoW!!) and i loved this!

Thought Catalog

Game of Thrones: Season 1 Game of Thrones: Season 1

If I could say or ask these Game of Thrones characters one thing…

Cersei:  I want to punch you so hard you’ll feel it in your incestuous babymaker.

Bran: Can you teach me how to Warg-y?

Jaime: I hate how much I love you.

Jon Snow:  I know this amazing grotto down the road if you aren’t busy later…

Grey Worm: Come on, dude…was it the twig AND berries?

Tyrion: You are all that is right in the world and the way you are treated is everything that is wrong in the world.

Ayra: Will you be my best friend forever and always?

Danaerys: YOUR EYEBROWS DON’T MATCH YOUR HAIR AND IT DISTRACTS ME EVERY TIME I LOOK AT YOU!

Sansa: Come here and let me hug you forever.

Tywin: I hate you, you big, stinky, poopy butt face!!!

Dario: Who the fuck are you…

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27 Reasons Why Everyone Needs Feminism #YesAllWomen

LOVE this!!

Thought Catalog

The first rule of responding to another article you see on the Internet is asking yourself: really? Is this worth it? Can’t I just post a snarky, verbally abusive anonymous comment like everyone else and feel a slight pang of relief?

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The short answer, after reading 27 Reasons Feminism is Not ‘For Everybody’: hell no. I need to address this. And before you dismiss me as some angry pit-stained, mustachioed hairy-legged whatever image is conjured up when the word ‘feminism’ is whispered, I must tell you that I wear short shorts and padded bras to make my boobs appear bigger and I like giving blow jobs. So that’s settled.

So here’s my rebuttal.

1. I need feminism because I refuse to be a victim.

2. I need feminism because as a woman of white privilege, I recognize that I’m fortunate to live in a Western society…

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The Truth About my Adderall Addiction

Okay, so here’s the thing.  I am 27 years old and i was diagnosed with ADD by a psychologist during the summer between the sixth and seventh grade. My sixth grade teacher was convinced i had it, told my parents and i was sent off during the summer break for a few hours to our local psychology testing center at one of the universities here in town.  How was i diagnosed?  Well, when you put a twelve year old in a room the size of a closet with a folding chair, an old mac computer and a painting of ships on troubled water (yes, i remember it down to that detail, because my silly ADD brain could not help but wander to it constantly) it’s a little hard not fail.

The test itself on the computer was that which reminded me of the basic hearing and eye tests we had frequently during elementary school, you know, the ones where you put your eyes into the weird contraption and you click left or right for what you see, and the same for the hearing with the computer.  It was boring, so my mind wandered.

After i failed, i had to sit with a therapist for an hour.  This is required.  I remember sitting on his big leather stereotypical couch, him at his desk with his yellow pad, him asking me what i like to do, what bands am i into.  I told him “Hole, Nirvana, Garbage, Tori Amos….The Beatles….” i kept naming until i ran out.  And i guess he had run out too, because i was no longer asked anything and we sat in silence for the next 45 minutes.

I left with a prescription for ritalin, four times a day.  I was to wake up at 8 am, take one pill, take two more at noon, and one more after dinner.

It killed my appetite and i lost 20 pounds in one month.  I couldn’t sleep, looking at food made me sick in general, so i stuck to talking to my online friends until 7 am when i would hear my dad getting ready for work.  My friend Vania in Canada would consistently tell me i have to eat, haha that brings a smile to my face this day!  I would eat one cup of chocolate pudding every morning at around 4 am. That was it.

8th grade came around, i was extremely more moody, things with friends were falling apart, and i introduced myself to self-harm via razor.

Come high school, i thought i could get better.  The doctor kept trying new experimental ADD medications on me and i began to rebel.  My third day of freshman year i was called to the principals office because they had gone over my medical history and decided that since i was diagnosed with ADD i should be placed in the lower classes.  I told them to give me a chance, i could prove them wrong.  I proved to be your regular average student, A,B and C average.  This was not good enough, and second semester they made me take the lower courses.  My blood boiled.

I made best friends with my pills at that point.  If i was being put down by them, at least i had the cure in a bottle to succeed above and beyond.

Until i was 23.  I have very vivid dreams, and i had a dream i was taking my adderall (the one i got hooked the most on) but i didn’t have anything but water to take it with (i have always had a terrible time swallowing pills, so it’s juice or a sip of soda to get me to swallow it). I couldn’t swallow in the dream so i gave up.  The next morning i went to take an adderall like i do every day and when i opened the bottle the cap was half put on and i immediately noticed i had actually spilled half the bottle into my mouth, chewed them a little bit, and spit them back out in my sleep.  I knew the end was near.

 

I almost killed myself in my sleep on accident because of adderall.

 

I can’t shake that horror, and i hope i never do.  From then on i keep all medications in another part of the house.  But it’s not enough.  I’ve realized now, i feel better, less anxious, more like me again.  It’s time.  I’m quitting.  I talked to my doctor and i am weening off over the next two weeks.  This is only day two, but after being 145 lbs and 5’6” and taking 20 mg XR for years, trust me, i have been taking too much.  I am sick and tired of the shaking, the sweating, the anxiety, the heightened heart rate and most of all the terrible come down that makes me fall asleep after work for a bit and feel even more tired when i wake up…..enough is enough.  So, wish me luck guys.  I am going to make it come hell or high water.  And Adderall??  You were cool at first, but our relationship has run it’s course.  I’ve met someone else, and i’ve missed her.  She’s me.  And i can’t wait to have her back 24/7.  🙂

THAT Guy

You know him, the one who always thinks he knows more than you. Speaks without knowing the full truth, bosses people around when he hasn’t even been at the job nearly as long as  you?

 

Kisses ass like a pro, while not doing ANYTHING?

 

…and eventually everyone begins to catch on…?

 

Yea, Fuck that guy. 😛

How?

How, when the walls feel like they are closing in and nobody seems to understand why you feel like that, how do you cope?  I know, my old anxiety issues are rearing their ugly heads again.  It starts with the hot flashes and cold sweats, my heart races, i feel like i have to get every single thing done at once or it won’t get done at all and i can’t even ask for help from anyone because well, that would waste time.  But the walls are closing in.  My vision begins to blur and i just want to sit down, cry, and have a good friend tell me everything is OKAY.  i will be FINE.  it’s not my fault.  it’s not, right?

I know where the issue stems from; being over worked, under paid, not having a real sexual relationship in years, not feeling loved or appreciated at all by many people.  Closing myself off from even those closest to me.  So when I’m working and clearly doing more than anyone else, caring more and going out of my way while others stand around just talking, it gets under my skin.  It gets deep. 

My subconscious starts telling me over and over again what these people have done to me specifically in the past.  How they have screwed me over, how some take advantage of the system and how some just know the right time to “disappear
 so they can show back up as soon as all the prep, as soon as all the real work, is finished.

And it hurts.  It literally hurts.  I’m 5’6”-5’7” (between those heights) , i weigh about 145lbs, and yea let’s face it.  I have naturally large breasts.  34 ddd to be exact.  Or ff, whatever the “lingerie” store wants to call it, because you can’t just go to wal-mart or victoria’s secret and find a bra in my size.  I’ve somehow become thin and cannot lose my breast weight.  Yea, sure, most women want that.  But oh, do you want the back pain?  The constant ache? The need to have to drive 2 hours to buy a bra that is cute but costs less than $80? Seriously.  It’s NOT WORTH IT.

And at the end of the day i am left feeling exhausted, sore, sometimes lonely.  And all of the people who know how to handle me when i get to that point, well, they’ve moved away.  I know they’re just a phone call or a text away but, it’s not the same as having them there to snap me out of it immediately.  I have to figure it all out and it’s new again.  I switched birth controls because i realized too much estrogen was harming me emotionally and my body has been on the lower dose for about 2.5 weeks but it’s still adjusting. 

I know i can handle this, i can do it.  But really, what do you do, when the walls feel like they are pressing in and you can’t breathe and there’s no one you can turn to?

Gonzo and Grunge

Growing up we all have our inspirations and we know exactly when we find them.  We recognize them by the way they make us feel from the very start.  Excited, anticipatory, like the greatest glass of water or hell, even a drink you never knew you needed so badly at that very moment.  Two of my biggest inspirations have been Kurt Cobain and Hunter S. Thompson.  Both for numerous reasons, Kurt for his music and his sensitive yet complex personality, and Hunter for his not giving a fuck about what is politically correct and writing about what he wanted to, the way he wanted to, and mirroring this in his own actions in his life.

I mean, how many men could say they had Johnny Depp as a house guest for filming “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” in a spare bedroom where the nightstand was an actual live powder keg?  Only one, and that was Hunter S. Thompson.  Not to mention the epic way he had his funeral planned, his ashes being shot out of a giant five finger Gonzo fist into the mountains on his property.

I don’t even know where to begin to describe the different impacts the works these men created have had on my life.  Not obsessive effects, no, more like a good friend you could turn to when you felt really bad and something they wrote or sang was there to make you feel all better because only that piece felt like it was connecting to the situation. 

Maybe i will know how to describe it more in a bit….but for now, i just want to say.  Happy Birthday Kurt Cobain, and always R.I.P Hunter S. Thompson.  The world needs more of these people today.

Hey, we all have our up's and downs. These are mine.