A highly sensitive and empathetic person, that takes on the emotions of the people around them, often at the expense of their own emotional well-being.

I don’t handle stress well. Chaos of any kind usually sends me into a panic state, where I freeze up and then I want to run away to a mountain hideaway, all by myself.

Empty tank, out of gas

My soul-weary self, exhausted

Picking up vibes I do not want

Another loud voice, I tremble again

Taking on worries that aren’t even mine

Heart in desperate need of mending

I Lost My Person

My mom would’ve been 75 years old today.

As one of my cousins commented on my Facebook post this morning, happy heavenly birthday, Aunt Sandy.

I love that. Happy heavenly birthday.

I snot cried after singing to her today, like I did every year, even though I always (and still) sound like a walrus in heat when I try to carry a tune.


Blame it on genetics, man.

But between us, I think she loved it.

The day she died, I lost my person.

I no longer have a certified person anymore. I’m almost positive that the majority of us can relate to that concept in some way.

I have my daughter, my brother, a few remaining family members, my boyfriend and a handful of good friends. And I love them all dearly.

But the day that my mom passed over to the other side, I lost the only person who always made me feel…tethered to the ground.


Fucking valuable, worth the trouble and effort.

I find myself floating aimlessly often, not knowing who to reach for when I need someone (no, I won’t use the lyrics to Candle in the Wind, I promise), confide in, cry with, laugh with, share with.

Go bonkers with, lose my proverbial shit with. You know, all the fun mental health shenanigans that only she was able to deal with until she started getting really sick.

Ain’t nobody got time for that shit, bringing Mer back to planet chill the fuck out.

If I really think about it, I lost her long before she actually took her last breath. I didn’t want to add to her suffering so I began to swallow it all down. Everything was about her and I kept it that way on purpose.

It was all I could do for her those last few horrible months.

Grief is such a lonely experience and as I’ve found out (always the hard way) these last few months, many people do NOT like to discuss their emotions and the person who died.

Grief is best kept locked inside and all that jazz but not for me.

I don’t do it like that.

Personally, I love to talk about my mom. I bring her up daily to anyone who will listen, usually the two people that I interact with the most, my daughter and my boyfriend. They are (luckily) fine with indulging me.

Sandy O’Leary LIVED. She might’ve left this earth and her physical body but she continues to LIVE on through me, her son, her grandchildren and the numerous people that she touched throughout her lifespan. This is why she remains a continuous presence, by those of us who loved her so much.

Who are not afraid to mention her name and share the memories that she left behind.

I lost my person and they’ll never be another who’ll ever come close to filling that void inside of me. This has been a gigantic pill for me to swallow, definitely not one of my favorite instances of good old radical acceptance.

I’ve become slowly more accustomed to the fact that for the rest of MY life, I’ll always be seeking her again, to come to me in my dreams, leaving me her little signs by way of songs, birds, feathers and her multiple sayings that I’ve now adopted as my own.


This is the feather we found on the top step of our new house the day our realtor took us to see it for the 1st time. We close on March 3rd. The photo was taken by my daughter. We both looked at each other in amazement and awe.

My mom told me to keep an eye open because she’d be around and you wanna know something?

She wasn’t bullshitting me.

A Blessed Carrot

It amazes me that after seven years of blogging…well, just how many absolutely wonderful people, although they’ve never seen me in person (nor have they ever seen me snort-laugh,) give a true shit about me.

Comments from my last post:

❤ – beth ❤

Trying to buy a house is 1 part excitement to 9 parts shitty. – Ali, known since the beginning  ❤ 

You can do this, I believe in you. ❤ – Erin, known since the beginning 

I honestly don’t understand how some people enjoy the housing market and buy/sell on a semi-regular basis. Most regular people (not the house flipper types) don’t understand the system that well, you are not stupid! (but I know that inner voice all too well too)
good luck xx – A newer blog peep but still equally awesome

You aren’t stupid, Mer. Just tired and that’s ok but don’t give up when the first place doesn’t pan out. It’s a bad time of year for houses anyway. You know you’d feel much better and your dogs would be safer if you moved. Give it another try. We are always learning in life. It doesn’t make you any more stupid than the rest of us. ❤ – Jackie, my wise, empath soul friend

Real estate is confusing and complicated and your agent should have explained more clearly about what you were signing. You are NOT stupid. I hope everything works out ❤️ – MDB ❤

Good luck on the house! Most of us have roller coaster feelings during times like this. (You get your power back by not bad talking about yourself—it’s hard but doable). – Ruth ❤

There is nothing fun about trying to buy a house… and I knew zip about the process when I went looking for mine. It was pretty harrowing, but it all worked out in the end, and I certainly hope you get a nice little place as well. Hugs to you! – ES, known since the very start of my blog and my virtual brother.

Buying and selling a house is a long, drawn out nightmare, usually. So much paperwork and it gets confusing. I have been through it a few times and I felt so overwhelmed every time! I had a bad realtor once. The guy had definite opinions on what I should or should not purchase. He was basing the assumptions on the fact that I was a widow and had no man in my life. I know this from a few comments he made. I even had one realtor laugh when went to an open house and was interested. He asked if I was married. I told him I was a widow and he LAUGHED at me thinking I could purchase a home on my own. At that time, I had all of the life insurance money from my husband’s death sitting in my bank. I was SO mad that I blurted out that I could buy the home in cash if I wanted to, because I had the full purchase price in my bank. His expression changed dramatically. I just told him never mind, I wouldn’t do business with him and walked away. It felt good! – Kathy, one of my first blog friends ❤ 

And to all who don’t comment, just the act of faithfully reading about my various ups and downs over the years (if you know who asshat is, yeah, you’ve been around a long time) makes me feel as blessed as the carrot that didn’t get picked to go into the beef stew.


Phew, fuck yeah.

Thanks, you guys. So fucking much.

We did get the house, I got the call Wednesday night. More to come.