“Why am I dying to live if I’m just living to die?”

A few months before I was born, my father gave a card to my mother on what was to be their last anniversary.

“You always liked cards,” he said as he tossed it to her and continued to leave her, pregnant, and their 5-year-old child alone in their home.

Inside the card he let her know he was leaving her for a girl (she was young) he met bird watching.  Fucking bird watching.

When it was time for my mother to have me, instead of my father it was her brother-in-law (my uncle) supporting her at the hospital.  (It was the 70s, I think a man was required to be there or something!)

As a grown woman, knowing what I know now about the type of person my father was/is…I just can’t accept it. Leaving a pregnant woman for someone else on their anniversary (funny, my husband left me for his pregnant mistress and vacationed with her on OUR anniversary where WE honeymooned)? Telling her he will quit his job and work under the table if she tried to take him to court for child support? What kind of person is that? A fucking terrible one.

And that’s how I came into this world. Negativity. A reminder, really.  A living, breathing entity to remind my mother of all those horrible things about her marriage and her family. As you can imagine, I am not the favorite child. In fact, a doctor once told me, “You had a mother. You didn’t have a mommy.”

I try to explain this feeling to people that I have about life. It’s like, I was invited to a party. Or yet, forced to go. And I don’t want to be there.

I want to leave. But I can’t. I’m stuck.

I’m stuck here.

Why am I even here? How did I get here? Let me go!

People ask me, “Hey are you okay?”  Most of the time I LIE, of course. But sometimes I simply say, “No.” And literally NO ONE knows how to deal with it. “Oh ok, well if you want to talk I’m here.” Uh ok. Thanks? What about now? Try asking me a QUESTION.  “I don’t know how to help you.” Um, ok, would you say that to a cancer patient?  So yeah, I lie. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” And move on.

Because I’m a bitch, people confuse that for sheer craziness.  I’ve been accused of being crazy hundreds, possibly thousands, of times by both people I KNOW and strangers. And recently was told, “You need psychological help.”  I was a huge bitch to that person, but still.

Oh honey, I’ve seen more shrinks, social workers and psycho-pharmacologists than you can imagine.  They all agree: I am not bi-polar (Thank you vm!) nor am I schizophrenic.  One believed, as I do, that I have BPD – Borderline Personality Disorder. Which, sounds REALLY bad. Like, multiple personality disorder. But they aren’t the same. They are in fact very different. And if you read just one paragraph about BPD you may understand where I’m coming from, and how hard it is to change my brain to think.

This post isn’t about BPD, but it does say a lot about who I am and how I perceive things. I tried talking about this with family years ago but they did not seem interested in that, nor the treatment which is very intensive and expensive.  Why is no one interested in me? Oh, cuz I suck and bring everyone down. Right.  I try not to! I swear!

Listen, I know I’m fucked up. Sorry!! At least I’m honest. About everything. And if you ever want to know where I stand or how I feel, people should just ask! No one ever asks me anything, so I get really excited when they do, like I’m famous and being interviewed. Maybe that’s why I went to so many shrinks – they asked me shit and listened to the answer.

I’m a failure at life and I want to leave!!!

Please. Let me go.

I know what you’re thinking, “JMo is suicidal. OMG.”

I’m not. Relax.

I mean, I am. But I won’t do it.

I already tried it once. And honestly, once you think about it, it’s always there. Beckoning to you, like that creepy clown in the sewer.

Not to get into it, but obviously I’m alive! Hello! So it didn’t work. My attempt. But it happened. But IT and IT’s aftermath will stay with me forever. A life experience not many have.

I carry depression with me every minute of every day.  It doesn’t mean I’m sobbing and sad all the time (yay medication!) but it does mean that I’m aware of my feelings and FEEL those emotions very strongly. Just please know what about me: I don’t do feelings half-assed.


I just realized my blog has NOT been funny recently. I do have a fun story about JMo, a bleeding heart liberal and very anti-gun, shooting one of the death machines. So that should be good, right?

Until then, PLEASE remember that I’m a human being. And while you might have NO idea what I do with my days and nights, just know that I’m fighting to be here, even though I want to Lyft the fuck outta life!

Oh and I have anger issues and I’m lonely. So yeah, probably shouldn’t be shooting a gun. But whatever. 😉



And I wonder if they’ll laugh when I’m dead?
Why am I fighting to live if I’m just living to fight?
Why am I trying to see when there ain’t nothing in sight?
Why am I trying to give when no one gives me a try?
Why am I dying to live if I’m just living to die?


JMo Reviews a Girlie Product!

Listen, I know it’s been a while. And this post might be shit, but look….I don’t have a muse. I haven’t been inspired. It’s like the same old shit, same old day.  I’m not ALWAYS like that. But recently it’s been a big ol’ “meh” when it comes to blogging.  But I miss it.

Ok, before my review….short of Hillary Clinton saying “Yeah I wanted everyone dead in Benghazi,” WHAT will make the GOP happy at the end of their little investigation?  Ooops. It happened. It sucks. A few Americans died. Guess what? Americans die here everyday. Wait, no, NOT at my house!! Gosh!

As you may know, or not, I’m not a gun person.  I find the 2nd Amendment to be … ridiculous.  AWESOME back in the day of our founding fathers. Not so awesome now that silly people like me are scared to go anywhere fearing that stupid people with guns will shoot me.

One of the bullshit lines I get from the NRA nuts is “Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.”  Ok, well we obviously can’t control people, so how about those guns? You know…the WEAPONS that were specifically designed to kill you.  They aren’t stunners, they aren’t pepper spray.  They are guns, weapons, with bullets that will mostly likely kill you…cuz that’s like, its job. You know, that’s why you go to war with guns and not knives.

Ok, people kill people. But with a gun? Right? Cuz why aren’t I getting that argument? It’s like saying “Sail boats don’t kill people. People kill people.”  Really? Tell that to Yong Sun.

Anyway, someone on a social media site literally said “Guns solve problems.”  Meaning, I surmised, the problem of rape.  Since that was the topic at hand.

And then smoke blew out of my ears and my eyeballs fell out of my skull.

I’m sorry, now, guns don’t kill people (duh) but they do solve problems??

Guns: The Rhodes Scholar of weapons.

Why do they get to say stupid shit like that? But every time I point out ANOTHER mass shooting, I get “JMo, guns don’t kill people….” Oh shut the fuck up.

For the record, I DON’T know the answer to the gun problem.  I’m not against taking them all away from the crazies (cuz we’re all crazy in America), and yes, by Crazies I mean Everyone.

But I know that isn’t popular. So…now what? We do nothing? And allow the “normal gun lovers” to shoot us at the movie theater, Walmart, church, school, restaurants.  You know, pretty much anywhere.

How about you keep your killing machines locked away in a safe? Don’t leave it lying around for little Johnny to find and shoot his three-year old cousin. Accidentally of course. But these types of accidents kill people. Unlike, you know…spilled milk.

And only shoot them at the shooting range. And don’t mosey into Chipotle with your AK-47 strapped around you. You look like an asshole at Comic-Con.  Or my worse nightmare…a person with a gun!!!

Guns don’t solve problems. People solve problems,


P.S. Neutrogena Makeup Removing Cleaning Towelettes – Night Calming are awesome.  I hate washing my face at night, and while I’m convinced that’s why I’m still mostly wrinkle free at my age, I really should take the makeup off. To top it off, I do use Waterproof mascara. I cry a lot, okay??

So it works on waterproof makeup. It took all my makeup off. And I didn’t have to use any water or soap! Score!!