Journal of Justmelucy

This is a snippet of my journals, just for you to get to know me better. Just like a lot of other people I've lived the life of a soap opera actress. I have been told I should write a book. Yet, I know that no one would believe it and could probably one up me with their life story. Just like when you show a person a scar and then they show you theirs and tell their story. So you tell them," Wow, You should write a book."

Apologies for using the word just so often. It just seems to fit. * lol * In fact, I was going to name my son Justin Case. I named him James Courtney instead. He says Justin Case would have better.

The name justmelucy describes me perfectly today. I am just me lucy, what you see is what you get . No man in my life, all of the children are grown creating lives of their own. A blank journal is in front of me to tell the tales, the highs and the lows of justmelucy.

As you read on or choose to follow my tales, you will meet the just me family. I call them that because so often when we speak about each other , We say, " Well... you know ...that's just_______ and that's just how ______ is (name inserted)

We just accept and love each other just that way, warts and all. We are your everyday abnormal family that seems to function somehow, even if it is dysfunctional.

You might meet Mom, my mother Nana to some, Big D my father by birth, You B my stepfather that raised me, Rey Anne a sister that changed her name to Wendy, Bob my brother with obsessive compulsive disorder and was an IRS agent, Jeff my brother Hero Hippie that lives life in a chair, Lory my younger sister the socialite butterfly and dental hygienist and then there is Abby and Debby the twin sisters that don't have a thing in common. Me, I was the middle kid and that explains a lot right there.

Not to forget my children, nieces and nephews, in laws and out laws.

It will be a sort of family reunion for you to attend without the good food.

After much thought, I decided to write about a favorite song of mine. "Desperado by The Eagles" which was also recorded by Clint Black, speaks to me.

I love horses. I love cowboys. I love Clint Black. I love The Eagles. I worked in a western wear store named Desperado. The lyrics just seem to fit my life. I think I'll even sing while I write. Yikes!!! Did anyone else hear that cat scream? Oh, that was my voice. I think I'll listen to the song on You-Tube instead..

The first line of the song is a question that friends and family have asked me. They tell me I need to quit riding the fence that it's not to late to start over. Yes, I'm stubborn and I've created a lot of my own pain.

The second verse also speaks to me. I'm not sure if I am a Queen of Diamonds or Queen Of Hearts but I picked the King of Clubs and left my King of Hearts. Big mistake. Bad Deal. Should have asked for a re-shuffle of the cards. Thank goodness though even today the King of Hearts is still my best friend.

In this next verse I am reminded me of the fantastic opportunities and all the time that I have squandered by making poor life choices. I could devote an entire journal page to this, so I think I will write more about that subject another day and privately.

And Oh Yes, Yes this Desperado is not getting any younger but she is not too old yet. My pain and my hunger have me thinking of family. Freedom, I've had freedom to choose my path. I have regrets but try to remember the best of times. I want to be there again. As for prison, I've built my own walls. At times I isolate myself. It is time to take those walls down and free myself to live again. I am really tired of walking through this world all alone.

My feet get cold in the winter time. I miss being held. The nights melt into days and the days melt back to nights. I often forget what day it is. I've had plenty of highs and lows. My feelings have gone away. Actually, I hide them as much as I can so that I don't feel the hurt again. But by doing so I've missed out on feeling love.

So this Desperado is coming to her senses. I'm going to come down off this fence and open the gate. Even if it's hard, cold or raining, I have the promise of the rainbow above me. I'm going let somebody love me before it's too late.

Well, there's mine in computer form. Do I dare share a picture of the original? I hope you enjoyed it and were encouraged to start your own journal

The lyrics to my favorite song.

I have a lot of fears. Maybe if I journal on one I can conquer it. *** Thinking*** I think too much. Make it simple ... is my reminder.

I am afraid of confrontation. I see confrontation as an argument or fight between two people. The reason I fear confrontation is that I usually give in to make peace. I would rather ignore the problem then mention it . Knowing this doesn't solve anything and actually adds fuel to a fire yet unlit, I still do it. Why? Maybe it will go away, get better after awhile. Of course it doesn't. It smolders unmentioned and eventually bursts into flames. It bursts into a million sparks of fire that need to be quenched. The smoke and the fire seem to hide the original issue that needed to be discussed and put out long ago. What a mess! It feels like a 4-alarm fire out of control. Fire scares me more than confrontation.

With this new analogy in mind, I will try to face my fear of confrontation. I can be open and accept another person's point of view, so I shouldn't be afraid of sharing mine with them. It's not about winning or losing, it's about peace between two people.

The only flame that I want burning is the one in my heart. The flame of love and acceptance.

Full of promise and ready to grow up. I wish I was this young again and know what I know now. Would I really do any different? What would I change?

A verbal description of me and a self portrait. The sketch to the left is pretty accurate, but not done by me. My sketch would be more flattering and show my recent blond highlights to my other wise mousy brown hair. The grey highlights are natural and well earned. I have brown eyes but it's glaucoma not Crystal Gayle that is making my brown eyes blue.

So, what do I write? I'm 57 years old female, big deal so are a lot of other people. I'm 5'3" tall and need to lose 25 lbs. A lot of other people could say the same thing.

What is unique or different about me? Everything! Everyone is different made up of the many experiences that they have lived. No one could have walked in my shoes or me theirs. No one knows my joy or my sorrow, just as I don't know theirs.

One thing I would say about me is that I'm resilient. I can endure a lot of difficult situations and bounce back. I guess I'm stubborn in that way. You can tell me something will hurt, but I have to feel the hurt to know it and grow from it.

I am loving to a fault. I will give when there is nothing to give. If I have only one dollar and you ask I will give it to you. I will share your pain and comfort you. I will be the first to say things will get better. Yet, I won't believe it when someone says those words to me.

I am a work in progress. I am thankful for everyday and everyone that I meet along the way.

As we grow up we all seem to receive a stuffed animal or two. A bunny or bear when we are born, a big dog from the carnival for throwing darts, a special bear with a red bow and heart on Valentines Day are just a few examples that come to mind.

My favorite stuffed animal was the Tasmanian Devil that I got for Christmas one year. My brother in law Jack was the Santa of stuffed animals. He always gave us one every year. It was like a tradition, he would enter the room with a big sack over his shoulder and do the Ho HO HO routine. He always seemed to find just the right stuffed animal for each one of us.

When I received the Tasmanian Devil, I was puzzled at first. I thought he was trying to tell me I was the devil but he meant that I was the whirlwind the Tasmanian Devil made. I would attack a challenge and kick up dust as I tried to overcome or solve a problem. Plus I could be a devil to get along with at times.

Taz was my favorite stuffed animal.

Automatically I think of my brother Jeff, The Rolling Stone. In a wheelchair since he was 18, he did not give up, he kept fighting.

He was studying for exams during his first semester at University of Florida, when he and a friend jumped on his bike and went to get some doughnuts. Believing he was taking a shortcut he went down an unmarked road. At the end of it was sawed off telephone poles and a pile of dirt. When he hit one of the poles he was thrown forward and his bike followed, striking him in the back. Gayle, his friend on the bike, had better luck. She fell off to the side landing in the pile of dirt and sustained some cuts and bruises. However, I am sure the memory of the accident haunts her at times.

The accident paralyzed my brother, Jeff Roulston from the waist down. Thank goodness, Jeff had his helmet on otherwise he wouldn't have been here to pose for his 60th birthday party in April. Don't you just love his beer pong party hat?

I see him as a Hero because he never gave up. He wasn't going to let society label him Disabled. He went through all sorts of therapy and learned that he could do anything he wanted to do. He married my sister- in- love, Peggy. She has been with him through thick and thin. I love you,Peg. He finished school getting his masters degree and set up many programs for people confined to a wheelchair. He even became the Director of Roosevelt Institute for Rehabilitation located in Warm Springs, GA and founded by Franklin D. Roosevelt. This was quite an accomplishment because this one of the places that my brother went for rehabilitation.

Just by his attitude alone he encouraged so many others to accept their unique situation and move beyond it. Through his example he has shown others that if they believe it they can achieve it. Now that he's retired he has more time to swim, plays golf, bowl, plays basketball and drives his trike style motorcycle.

I love you Jeff Roulston, The Rolling Stone

This one is almost too easy. I realize a lot of young girls love horses but I LOVED them to excess. They became a part of my life. I learned a lot while riding my horse. I learned what it is like to have someone depend on me. I learned how to love unconditionally. I learned how to ride and to enjoy competition. While participating in competition I realized the joy of just competing, it's not necessary to win the Blue Ribbon or Trophy. Just do your best.

I learned "To Sit Loosely In The Saddle Of Life" Robert Louis Stephenson. This means to take it easy. You think I’d have learned to balance myself there in that saddle. Not too loose. Not too tight. Relax. Don't let life's difficult times throw you. If you do fall, pull yourself up and keep riding along.

Halloween is close so spooky things are on everyone's mind. So I am kind of challenging myself with this question : Do I Believe In Ghosts?

The long and short answer is yes, but it depends on the definition of the word ghost.

Do I believe in a white sheet with eyes blacked out floating around? Well, of course not.

Do i believe in unexplained shadows moving about? Well, kind of because I often see shadows or movement out of the corner of my eye. Yet, that could be due to my glaucoma.

Do I believe in spirits from the other side? Yes, I do. I have been physically touched and even heard my name spoken. I have heard voices and have had visits in my dreams.

Do I tell everybody about my experiences? Well, no not until now anyway.

Good question! If you have read any of my journal you know that I fear confrontation, so a debate is out of the question. The real me, I am not fashion forward. You already know I can't sing. So, what do I do that truly captures me and allows me to express myself to others?

I write when I really don't know what I am writing about and I draw , sketch and collage to put an explanation point to my thoughts. I often reread my writings from an outsiders perspective and I find myself somewhat confused and a bit too wordy. It's like I dance all around a subject before I tackle it open and honestly. What's worse is I believe I know why I do this. I dance around looking for a smile like a hint of affirmation. I so want to be liked and deemed valuable. There, now you know more about me than my psychiatrist.

Born in 1955, I grew up in the 60's and 70's. In 1973 I was 18 graduated high school and gave birth to my first love child. Allison Dawn or

All -is - one and dawn is coming. I swear I wasn't smoking anything then.

As a too young wife and mother I tried to express myself by living the role set before me. What I thought and what i learned didn't seem to fit so I changed to single mother on her own. A song popular then was Me and You Against The World and that is how I felt.

Now, I suppose I am expressing myself here on Squidoo while I tackle things that haunt me. I wish I had done so many things differently. To be totally honest, as I recall past events, I remember distinct moments when spirit, my angels, my guides and my God tried to warn me. I wish I had responded to their warning. I ask them to guide me now.

My favorite Halloween costume wasn't a costume at all.

It was just me in my blue jeans, western shirt, cowgirl boots, cowgirl hat and a belt with an over sized buckle that I won in Barrel Racing competition. To top it all off, I was riding my my horse, my best friend, Billy The Kid. Oh, how I wish that I still had the pictures to share. Thank goodness, I have the memory to relive and share with others.

I had to borrow a pillow case from one house that we went to in order to carry all the Treats that Billy was getting. He had enough apples and carrots to last a few months. The houses that I went to felt Tricked and I got Treated.

I have several so I'm going to give this a little more thought. Narrow down to my favorite Turkey Day Tradition. I have made a decision on the funny tradition that my family does. I'm waiting on a copy of Turkey Lurkey , a sort of poem that one of my younger sisters, Abby, wrote and we now read and laugh about it every year even if we aren't in a group.

Sorry Abby has not sent me a copy of her poem yet. She is always late for everything, mail is no different. Perhaps, I'll get it by Christmas. Seriously. I may have to change my topic. Forgive me. I'll bug her endlessly until I get it.

Photo Credit : nisd.net

I remember when this picture was taken. Yes, I was 40 years old and thought I was finished having children. Since I already had 3 children and the youngest ,Megan was 12 years old. Surprise! A surprise in the best way, twin girls Kara and Tara.

Think back to a memory and relive it just for fun. Journal about it.