the death of a bubbly personality

I think part of my being able to get a handle on my social anxiety is to come out and tell you more about me how I was as a child, when I started to become less social, and when I finally snapped and stopped almost all together.

I was a typical happy kid. I had a shitty childhood due to my parents issues but that didn’t change me inside much. When I was young I had lots of friends, I loved getting out of the house and playing with people. I attended girl scouts and junior book clubs. I went to skating rinks, arcades, and sleep overs.

When I was a pre teen I hung out with friends, went bike riding with neighborhood kids, and met kids at the Fair Haven State Park all summer long. I was still an active member of girl scouts and was taking both clarinet lessons and chorus. I loved all of it. I loved life and people.

When I was a teenager I played 1st base and shortstop on the girls softball team. I worked as a helper in a local bakery where I was constantly interacting with new people every day. I was in some plays at school too. I enrolled in band class and tried out for solos in chorus. I was an alto in chorus and despite my ability to sing pretty well I was always turned down.

I was an awkward girl who liked wearing grandpa sweaters and argyle socks, suspenders and ties. I had a quirky personality, I was bubbly and outgoing, but not enough I suppose. The typical pretty blonde who was friends with all of the rich kids at school was chosen for everything. She got all the solos in chorus, she got all the best parts in the play. She had all the boys that I liked grovel over her.

As I got halfway through high school people started to hold value in the girl who got picked for everything. They forgot that even though I wasn’t picked first, or chosen for solos, that I was still a fun and friendly person. I was still the same person as I always was, but they forgot that. My friends slowly became too busy for me, so I slowly became too busy for myself.

I started to find new friends, the ones who were also kind of rejected and just hung around with them and their friends even though they smoked pot and drank. I still to this day have never smoked pot, but I did drink occasionally. I became quiet, withdrawn, and stopped going to band and chorus. I dropped out of girl scouts and didn’t rejoin the softball team the following year. I still worked at the bakery but almost completely kept myself out in the kitchen away from the public.

I had started to doubt that I was the fun, friendly person that I had always thought I was. I dropped out of school further secluding myself. I have never fully got that bubbly personality back. It will show itself once in awhile, but not often. I don’t participate in things because I worry people won’t like me. I can’t go to pta meetings for fear that parents will judge me. I don’t allow my kids to join sports or after school activities because I am afraid of having to interact with other parents.

I wish I could be better for them. I wish that I didn’t worry about everything, and that life was easier on my kids. They deserve much better. One day I hope I can be everything my kids need and I am working on it.

I have started going over to a new neighbors home once a week for coffee. We sit and chat for awhile and the kids play together. I have looked for anxiety meetings but can’t find any in my area, but I will keep looking. I am hopeful. But in the meantime I am slowly trying to change myself.

Sorry about this being so long, I just thought it would be good for me to show when my changes began. :). – lacie


The Year Ahead

2013 was a crappy year for me, as most of you know. I have been depressed and pretty miserable for the most part. But I am going to try something new. I am going to work on my weight, and see a doctor for my social anxiety. I am going to try and meet new people and make friends. I plan on finding new things that make me happy. I love taking pictures, sewing, and designing, so I am going to pursue some of these things as frequent hobbies. I want to be a happier, more friendly person, not only for me but for everyone that has to interact with me. So hopefully I’ll have good stories to tell, and merrier poems to share with you. I think I am strong enough to do all these things that I want to accomplish. Here’s to all of you for sharing this page with me, and here’s to a wonderful year for all of you as well. ūüôā

Love In Death

She lies there and listens to the foot steps getting closer.¬† There’s a sudden flash of darkness underneath the doorway.¬† Frightened and alone she crawls under her bed.¬† The sound of his boots on the hardwood get closer, louder.¬† They sound so close the fear begins to sink in under her skin.¬† The door opens ever so slowly, without a sound.¬† She watches from under the bed as he walks around it.¬† She is silent.¬† Holding her breath with all of her strength, knowing that if he finds her it will be her last.¬† He doesn’t stay long, continuing his search down the hall in her brother’s room.

She listens.  Waiting until the sound of each step gets further away. Breathing out, she catches a scream before it makes it past her lips.  Crawling out from under that mattress she has a plan.
Her window is open a crack, so she crawls quietly over to the sill and pulls her shaken body up.  As she peers out through the glass, something catches her eye. Unsteadily she turns around gripping tightly to the window sill to find the man standing in her doorway.  He dashes across the room as she tries to climb out the window.  When all of a sudden the room goes black.

A feeling of cold washes over her, opening her eyes to nothing but darkness.  The air is thick and pungent.  The smell of death is in the vicinity but without a light to see, there is no telling what direction it is coming from.  She tries to move but her hands are bound.  Is this it?  Is this the end for her?  She begins to kick furiously, hoping someone will hear her.  What was that sound? Her heart starts pumping at the sound of footsteps.  The light comes on and her eyes close.  It is so bright that it stings.  She reopens them slowly letting them adjust to the light so she can see who is there.

A shadowy figure covers her like an umbrella blocking out the sun.  All she can see is the fire in his eyes, and she knows now that this is her hell.  He bends down over her, his face still enveloped by his shadow.  Reaching out he touches her face with rough gritty hands.  The smell of dirt and rusted metal on his fingertips.  Horrified, she turns her head away.  His gentle touch quickly turns into anger as he grabs her face with his ogre like hand and pulls her up within an inch of his.  She closed her eyes once more.  His fiery breath warming her neck, and the sickly sweet smell coming out of his mouth made her gag.

The smell of infection riddled her sinuses, throwing her off guard.¬† He drops her back to the floor.¬† As she hits she rolls onto her side.¬† Her view no longer blocked from the light, she can see everything in the room.¬† Bodies of young girls strewn across the floor, naked and bloodied.¬† A lifeless vision of what is to be her future as well.¬† The man laughs at her as if this is all a big joke.¬† She wasn’t amused, she was scared half to death.¬† By the looks of it she wasn’t far from it either.¬† He grabs her feet and drags her through the bodies. She screams as she bumps into each young tortured woman.¬† Never had she imagined things like this existed, such a naive girl.¬† He takes her into an empty room, well empty besides a lamp and a single hook hanging from the ceiling.¬† He forces her to undress, she’s resistant all the way through.¬† He hits her, knocking her to the ground.¬† Grabs her by her ankles and wraps a rope snugly around them.

Lifting her up, he places her ankles up onto the hook and left her hanging upside down.¬† At this point her tears have stopped flowing and her hopes are forgotten.¬† She knows the inevitability of the situation so she doesn’t fight it.¬† The man pulls out his knife and grazes her bare skin with it.¬† Teasing her¬† and taunting her.¬† She’s ready, she’s never been more ready for anything in her life.¬† Relief flows over her as he makes his first slice.¬† Slowly and precise he cuts under her left breast.¬† Using her blood like finger paints to draw hearts on her stomach.¬† He holds her hand while he makes his next cut, as if they were in it together.

They were in it together, in a sense.¬† This moment was theirs and no one elses.¬† A memorable one at that.¬† Her complexion fades but her heart still beats.¬† Not for much longer though, her time is almost here.¬† This is usually his favorite part, watching the life fade from their eyes, but hers doesn’t fade.¬† Her eyes are brighter and more lovely than ever.¬† She is ready for this. ¬†Gripping onto his hand as if forever was seconds away, she whispers goodbye.¬† He kisses her cheek¬† and whispers it back.¬† He gracefully places the blade against her neck and slides it across.¬† The blood flows down her chin and over her lips and she had never been as beautiful as in this moment.

Live Below The Line Campaign

I am a member of a community, and we are called BzzAgents.  We are participating in a fundraising campaign called Live Below The Line.



Live Below the Line is a campaign that challenges individuals and communities to eat and drink on just $1.50 per day for 5 days. By exposing participants to a glimpse of some of the daily difficulties experienced by the 1.4 billion people who live in extreme poverty every day, for everything, the campaign provides a unique window into understanding the realities of life for so many.

Through the insights gained over the 5 days, Live Below the Line is assembling a movement of people passionate about eradicating extreme poverty. Through partnerships with various charities, the campaign raises both awareness and critical funds.

I am asking that my followers help with this cause, either by going to¬†and creating their own profile¬†or donating through my profile here. ¬†I am going to be participating in hopes to understand what some people go through on a daily basis. ¬†I am lucky enough to not have a shortage of funds to feed my family, nor a shortage of food itself. ¬†Not everyone is that lucky, so let’s help them out as much as we can. ¬†If you create your own profile you can choose out of several charities that the money you raise will go to. ¬†I have chosen to donate to UNICEF. ¬†You can read a little bit about what UNICEF is here if you are unfamiliar with them. ¬† If you choose to participate in this by either doing it yourself or donating I would like to thank you ahead of time. ¬†Live Below The Line provides a cookbook for download here¬†along with other resources to see how this campaign has worked in previous years if you would like to participate. ¬†I truly hope that you at least look into this campaign and spread it around to help raise money for people who really need it. ¬†And THANK YOU again for reading this. ¬†ūüôā

Introducing Meatloaf…

I have always had a very strong resistance to having cats as pets. ¬†The fur is atrocious and gets absolutely everywhere. ¬†They whine, I mean jeez that meowing thing they do is abhorrent, and I hate it. ¬†But recently I decided I’d try to get over my whole hatred of cats and I rescued a kitten who’s owner had suffered a fatal heart attack. ¬†It was hard at first because I was waking up with hair on me, and in my mouth, and I hated it so much. ¬†But… I have grown to absolutely adore my kitty. ¬†His name is Meatloaf, not sure about his name, it came with him, didn’t have the heart to change it. ¬†We are bonding more now, it’s been weird for both of us. ¬†He is the cutest little thing I ever did see. ¬†I am happy that I climbed out of my comfort zone long enough to adopt him, he is a fantastic companion, and I have grown so much as a person since bringing him home. ¬†For anyone who has room in their home and heart I strongly suggest adopting an animal. ¬†Meatloaf fills a void in my heart. ¬†He is exactly what I needed.







Little Reminders

Yesterday I cut my hair, yes I know big deal. ¬†Well I just used a razor comb and didn’t have any kind of plan set out, I just kind of went with the flow. ¬†Looks pretty decent btw. ¬†Well today I woke up all disheveled and went to brush my hair, glanced in the mirror and was blown away at how my hair looked. ¬†As untidy as it was, the thing that hit me the most was how much it looked just like the haircut my mother had for practically all of my life. ¬†Of course memories of her hit me like a rock to the face. ¬†I miss her, she left too soon. ¬†My mother was only 44 when her depression got to be too much for her to cope with. ¬†She took her own life the day after christmas back in 2008. ¬†She has been gone for many years now, but I think she’s still here with me. ¬†She wasn’t the perfect mother and that’s ok, because I am not either. ¬†I loved her regardless. ¬†Depression can be a really difficult thing to overcome for some people, I have had my own battles with it. ¬†I am happy to say that I have come out on the winning side, unfortunately not everyone does. ¬†As angry as we may be that a loved one makes the decision to take their own life, we need to realize that they have their reasons. ¬†I know and understand why my mother is gone. ¬†We all deal with something painful in our lives. ¬†Coping with some pain can be a bitch, and really takes a toll on a person, which is what happened with my mother. ¬†I hope she is in a better place, wherever that may be, with people that she has loved and lost. ¬†I know that her pain and suffering is over, and that is enough of an answer for me as to why she did it. ¬†She loved me from the minute I was born, and I will love her until my last breath has been expelled, maybe longer, I don’t know. ¬†All I know is she has missed out on so much, and maybe someday, somehow, I will be able to fill her in on it all.


My mother the day my oldest son was born.

Get to know me a bit

This is a get to know you kind of thing for the Trifecta writing Challenge blog.
  1. What is your name (real or otherwise)?   I use my real name for my blog,  It is Lacie Jay 
  2. Describe your writing style in three words.  heartfelt, personal, angst
  3. How long have you been writing online?  Only a few months on a blog, beforehand I posted everything on my Facebook
  4. Which, if any, other writing challenges do you participate in?  None, this is my first
  5. Describe one way in which you could improve your writing.  I could learn to write short stories, I have never been very good at that
  6. What is the best writing advice you’ve ever been given?  To try different forms of poetry
  7. Who is your favorite author?  Stephen King, I wish I had his imagination
  8. How do you make time to write?  I usually wait until my daughter is in bed already
  9. Give us one word we should consider using as a prompt.  Shadow
  10. Direct us to one blog post of yours that we shouldn’t miss reading ¬† I Saw You