Post 244: This is how it goes

I think of blogging several times throughout my day.

I am processing much. Particularly where I’ve traveled since starting this writing journey.

I feel I’m at a crossroad, where I’ve healed enough in myself to start sharing more about my coping strategies (yay!), with less of a need to mentally and emotionally spill and reflect. I’m trusting in this process and the timing, and am excited to see what will arise.

Thank you for being here.

I am a bit behind on answering comments. I’ve been continuing to focus on balance in my life, and taking care of my needs and my family’s needs. Comments are always appreciated and read with love. Not answering every comment is growth for me. However, I do intend to go back and answer the more urgent questions.

I’ve had to release some guilt, slowly. I was reading over fifty blogs when I first started. My life was blogging for several months. Everything else took a backseat. Now that I’ve regained balance, I haven’t felt the desire to read blogs. I still love the people I connect and connected with through blogging, and hold them in thought many, many times each day. If you are one of the people who blogs and we share(d) a connection, know you still hold a HUGE place in my heart, and that I am at a new place on my path at the moment. Know you are loved and held in high regard. I have a facebook page listed atop this blog; please feel free to friend me.

I will continue to write at Everyday Asperger’s, but only when I feel called to do so, and am able to remain balanced in all aspects of my life.

I am for the most part truly, truly happy and at peace with who I am and my calling in life. I think this is reflected in my eyes and smile. I know it is reflected in my energy.

I am doing better with my health.

I have discovered coffee has giving me much more energy (who would have thought–wink-wink) and the ability to lift my mood. I read in a study (laughing to myself, as I seem to like to read studies, and know that studies are contradictory, often funded by money-hounds, and certainly ever-changing and debatable..but tossing all that aside)… I read in a study that 20% of people can cure depression through coffee; I’ve excepted (darn homophone)…I’ve accepted, I either am the 20% or I made this fact a truth in my life!

The downfall: Coffee does make me organize and reorganize and reorganize. I think I’ve cleaned and reorganized my bathroom medicine cabinet four times now. And, I tend to ramble and talk more, with caffeine. However, the substance is working wonders for my mind and pain-relief; so I’ll take a little organizing-OCD-bug.

Also, I have decided I am allergic to all earth food, beyond coffee (cream and sugar) and dark chocolate…oh and water. Because, as soon as I eat anything, I become instantly depressed, insecure, nervous, fatigued and in pain. I spend my “eatless” mornings and “eatless” afternoons very productive and content, knowing once I eat, I will likely have to rest on the couch and fight off negative thoughts and pain. (I like the word eatless, but don’t try to text the word because auto-spell-correct can see only “earless.”)

I’m back to processing what I look like. hmmmmm?

Today the following thoughts are on my mind…well at least for twenty minutes they were. I think I’ve had about forty other subjects pop up since opening this document to write….coffee again.

This is how it goes.

This is how it goes. I dream of my liver, that my liver is damaged, that I need to go to the doctor and get tests.  I wake up knowing I’m fine, but feeling the dread of upcoming tests. Someone else’s feelings are with me.

Two days later, a relative called and has to go in for liver tests.

The dream makes sense.

This is how it goes. I have a thought of giving coats to school. I have a bag of coats in my closet that are too small for my son. All day I think of whom to give the coats to. It’s like a moving picture in my mind. Whom to ask? The thought keeps circling.

Hours later, my son comes home from school with a note about families in need of clothing and other items.

The thoughts stop.

This is how it goes. I wake up at 4:45 am with thoughts and cannot get back to bed. I look in the mirror and have a bite on my cheek. My mind spins. I keep thinking of the butterfly rash that accompanies the auto-immune condition lupus. I know I do not have lupus, but I can’t stop checking my cheek in the mirror. I can only think of lupus. I can only think to check.

Soon, my good friend calls. She was up most the night. Her doctor just called to say she has lupus.

The crying starts.

This is how it goes. I wake up with dread, with unexplained fear. I am worried. Something is going to happen.

That day a friend has a breakdown. Instantly my dread is gone and I am better.

The relief comes.

This is how it goes. I haven’t been to a particular store in months; no interest, no want. A voice inside says, “Go today. Go today.” I fight the voice. The voice still comes. “Just go. Only for fifteen minutes. Just go.” I drive.

I arrive to find the dresser I’ve been visualizing in my mind for the past couple months. The exact antique dresser I’ve wanted for my room at the Goodwill for only $40. Mint condition. Lovely. The entire transaction from finding the dresser, paying for dresser, and helpers placing dresser in trunk of van takes exactly fifteen minutes.

The joy comes.

This is how it goes.


The past few days I’ve been analyzing actresses on television and how their hair affects the way they look. Somewhere in my head, I got stuck with the thought that if I don’t look nice in every photo I take, then I truly look like the ugliest photo.

I mean, wouldn’t it be nice to be narcissistic for one day, and believe I always look like the best photo? But NO, my little brain thinks I MUST look like the worse photo. Of course, this is the same brain, who somewhere along the road, gathered the baggage that if I don’t look beautiful with my hair unbrushed, makeup off, and in frumpy, stained clothes, then I am not naturally beautiful. The same mind that played tricks on me and told me that if I wear make up and fix my hair up and take a nice photo that that is a lie, and fake, and not the real me to begin with. So if someone gives me a compliment, while I’m fake, then the compliment is not real either! The same brain that told me all these years that when someone tells me I’m beautiful or pretty that he or she is just saying that because truthfully I’m hideous and they are trying to lift my spirits. That, in truth, the entire world is in a conspiracy to make me think I’m lovely, because in truth when they look at me they feel sorry for me. OH, MY GOSH! Growth, growth, growth.

My son took a photo of me with his new camera today. For the first time, I thought logical thoughts upon seeing a photo of myself. I heard this in my head: “Oh, I have a triple-chin because he is little and taking the photo from down low. I look different in all angles and lighting. This is not a true reflection of me.”

Much better than my standard: “Oh no! I can never leave the house again. I am a triple-chinned monster and everyone is pretending not to see it!”

Here is something I did for fun:

First photo is a few minutes before the other photo.

Between the photos, I simply put on a sweater, eye makeup, and lipstick. Hair behind ears, head tilted different direction.

I really am fascinated with how lighting, clothes, hairstyle, and makeup affects photos.

Oh…and Yes…for those of you joining, this ENTIRE blog is about my vanity and ego….giggles

Before photo. No make up.
A few minutes later.

Now, of these three photos which one is the real me?

Answer: All of them!

I am like a flower. Different in all angles, all lighting, and in each season; whether the season is a day, month, or life. God Bless all the me’s and all the you’s. xoxo ~ Sam

I almost forgot…here’s the dresser:

Day 219: Between the Poopies and the Poppies

(There was a previous photo of me going into an outhouse. lol)

I didn’t actually go into the outhouse. It’s like my least favorite place in the world. I prefer bushes. And I don’t poop. I’m a princess, and princesses don’t poop.



California Golden Poppy by Sam Craft


This is me thinking I am standing up straight. I have no idea what I look like most of the time. Am I a bendy doll? Now I’m starting to realize why guys might think I want their number.

Between the Poopies and the Poppies

I have a difficult time understanding the middle ground.

I am at one extreme or the other.

I am a prude or I am sexy.

I am trying whole heartedly or I give up.

I am excited or I am bored.

I am starving or I have no appetite.

I hyper extend my body backwards or I hunch forward.

I  smile huge or I frown deep.

I  have extreme hope or I have extreme sorrow.

I feel joy or I feel agony.

I think I’m cute enough or I believe I’m too ugly to leave the house.

I worry obsessively or I let everything go.

I am overly fatigued or I have extreme energy.

I  cling or I walk away.

I smoother another or I want nothing to do with a person.

I overshare or I clam up.

I’m talkative or I want complete silence.

I obsess or I walk away in disinterest.

I am confident or I am insecure.

I like myself or I hate myself.

I’m trying to find that middle ground, somewhere between the poopies and poppies.

Between the crap and the sunshine.

Between the stench and sweetness.

Between the ugly and the beauty.

I just don’t know how to get there.

Day 212: Joy in the Morning

Joy in the Morning

I kiss joy in the morning as thoughts of you bow down in gentle gratitude

And affection she dances lightly through the bedcovers, spreading rose petals, red above

How sweetness falls upon the day, fresh crimson, rainbows soft

And handsome tiptoes through merriment, his puckered lips smiling

Beauty she blushes, and gathers love in baskets woven by the twinkle of dawn’s amber eyes

Feathered pillow springs forward and welcomes tickles from hope, chuckle laughs wearing a shy pink

And bold blanket, he harnesses the voluptuous dream of the night, his treasure to marry

The floor becomes ocean and reins in a guild of seahorses made to roar with indigo passion

Folded in dreamland, bed castle winks and mattress plays cymbals in orchestra duvet

Strong faith appears, in this space between, where wishes wear sparkling ruby crowns

Tomorrow, she laughs and splashes butterscotch clouds at strawberry-popcorn glee

While always and forever tango close beside the groom of starlit night and bride of chamber music

Come find me here, beneath the giggling moonbeams and peek-a-boo painted bed sheets

Come find joy, before reason slips beyond the kaleidoscope guard and sleeping disbelief awakes

~ Samantha Craft, August 2012

Photos and Words by Samantha Craft. All rights reserved.

Day 206: Hot Dog! Bikini Shots!

I have written about going from Prude to Sexy in prior posts .

In pure delight, I have reached several of my goals regarding Prude to Sexy, including the guitar purchase and kayaking. I still desire to take those guitar lessons and start belly dancing. Might trade in the ankle tattoo idea for a belly button ring, though….

My middle son is convinced this is all a midlife crisis. My husband is quite smitten. And my dog, well she is happy as a clam with all the walking we’ve been doing. I’m averaging five to seven miles a day of walking, and hope to continue when the rain makes its way to my town and sticks around.

My BIG GOAL of bikini purchase and wearing the bikini in public was achieved last week at a lake with hundreds of people!

Although, in all honesty, my bikini is really “boy shorts.” But the attire is skimpy enough to qualify as bikini in my book. I haven’t worn a bikini or anything like it in over twenty years. My stomach hadn’t seen the light of days in decades.

When I wore my bikini at the lake, I spent the whole two hours processing with my husband about my bikini and my body. I still harbor some childhood bleak memories of naked grownups at nude beaches.

And I’ve been revisiting the past, some of the haunting tauntings that occurred in my freshman year of high school on the east coast, where kids called me slut and such because of my figure.

I’m learning to embrace my body….and reprogramming thoughts I have about words like voluptuous. 

It’s taken me over a week to post my bikini photo, and this IS a thumbnail size photo. But it counts! OH, and did I mention, since February, I lost 21 pounds?

And for those of you that want the Full Effect… you go!!!!

Day 202: For This






Images from the great northwest of Washington State USA. By Samantha Craft.


For This

What is love to me, my angels asked

I answered, your eyes in my heart

Shining bright upon the drinking flowers

I watered and listened

To the voices in my mind

And they came like sunlight

The waves I am

Blessing me with the softness of your face

I peeled back the day then

The greenery and cedar grand

Bowed in recognition

Of what I held inside

The joy

The hope

The invention of me, reborn

All stood back, the heaven’s cloud

And asked, as one

Are you certain

Is all worth


I stood there then

In quiet

My view slowly shifting

Reality a game

And I answered aloud

In the way a soul speaks from beneath

I answered


All is worth this

And the questions came:

And what of pain

Shall you hurt

For this

Shall you turn from your very wishes

Shall you sacrifice

For one moment

For one chance

And I sang

As the raven to her love

But for a moment

I would give my life

But for a moment

I would change eternity

And the unity spoke again

Questioning my faith

My desire

And you would alter everything

For this

They asked

Change your world

For this

And I answered with a tear

Yes, the silence said

There is no love

Without his embrace


~ Sam Craft, August 2012