10 years and 1%

10 Years and 1%

10 years ago I went out to the club with my friend Erika. I had decided that I wanted to cut back on my cigarette smoking, so I took only 2 cigarettes in with me. Well, that didn’t work out so well. I bummed 2 more cigarettes off some guys that night.

I am a nurse and knew what was happening to my lungs and my overall health. I had 2 patients shortly before then that were leaning me in the direction of having to quit. Cutting back was what I knew I could probably do. I was a pack a day smoker since my teen years. Picked up my first cigarette in 5^th grade.

One of those patients was on oxygen and yet still decided that smoking was a good idea. I watched as her <50 year old body that resembled that of someone at least 20 years older continue to deteriorate, her voice raspy and harsh, skin thin and wrinkled. I knew there were 3 reasons a person smoked. 1.Addiction 2.Habit and 3.Enjoyment. Usually it is a combination of those. I smoked out of habit first, but I enjoyed it too. People that smoke every day all day are usually addicted too, as opposed to “Social Smokers”.

Days before the night I went out with Erika I saw an old women, bee hive hairdo, driving a boat of a Cadillac. She had a Virginia Slim in her right hand hanging out her window, I swear there was a cloud of smoke coming out from that window.  She was coughing so loud, hacking up a lung, seriously, I was waiting to see her blackened lung come out her mouth. THAT was the moment I know I had to do something about my smoking habit.

When I came out of the club that night I went straight home and went to bed. I didn’t smoke at all that next day (kind of). I knew this would be it. I knew the decision had been made and I was never going to smoke again. I felt that was my final fair well to cigarettes. Except, I didn’t feel like I really got to Enjoy my last cigarette. SO – I went outside that night and joyfully smoked my last cigarette.

OCTOBER 4^th 2004.

It took a while for people around me to recognize I wasn’t smoking. But for me, all of a sudden the smells around me were, well, I could smell. I could smell for miles. It was a very strange sensation. And for 10 years now I wonder if I still want to smell some of these things.

I will tell you that 99% of the time I smell cigarette smoke I have to walk away, I have to get away from it, I think it is the worse smell ever. But the other 1% is what really matters in life. It’s that 1% that still calls to me. I haven’t bought a pack of cigarettes in 10 years and I don’t ever plan to again. I will hold that 1% as my strength, not my weakness.

Till death do us part

Here is another Poem I am sharing for you to read. As the previous I wrote this many years back in the 90's. It is one of my favorites. I have said the first few lines so many times in my head.. not sure why. I hope you enjoy it!

Till Death Do Us Part

I had more important things to do that day

Until I fell in love with you

You became my surroundings and my life

Then you asked me to become your wife

I guess I should have said yes that day

Cause now your dead, you've gone away

The love between us was growing strong

And then your death came along

I loved you with all my heart

And never thought that we would part

Not like this, not this way

But everyone told me that it would be okay

I should have listened to my friends that day

Cause now I'm dead, I've gone away

I haunt this house with teenage love

In hope that someday I'll find my true love

When that day comes my haunting will be done

I'll be deceased, but I'll be in peace

I won't have to cry or weep

I'll just fall into a deep, deep sleep

                                                        Lory Atchley

Rated R or MA - explicit material

This was written by myself when I was in college- It is a bit explicit and reads somewhat like a romance novel - so beware!

A Valentine Fantasy Worth Waiting For  by Lory Atchley

It starts with a slow dance in a dimly lit room. Their bodies pressing gently against each other as their hearts beat simultaneously. Their hands interlock as they dance slowly around the room. He tilt his head towards hers as their lips part and gently touch. Their tongues find each other and wrestle roughly. As he pulls away from the most passionate kiss she's ever known his eyes discover every inch of her body. Then his hands do the same, gently caressing each curve as they go by. Her arms wrap around his sturdy body and he lifts her into his arms as if to carry her over a threshold. He take her to the bed where he lays her down softly. His eyes stare into hers like a lion to his mate telling her that he dominates her. She lies there waiting for his next move as she begins to perspire in suspense. His hand cradles her head and his fingers spread through her hair lifting his face to hers. The long hard kiss assures her that he is in complete control. He begins to kiss her neck, slowly moving down to her breast. His tongue circles her nipples teasingly and then moves towards her abdomen kissing farther and farther down until his tongue slides in between the lips of her vagina. He excites her with great ease. As she begins to twitch and jerk her hands reach for him trying to pull him closer to her. When he feels she is about to explode he comes closer laughing softly. His next kiss carries her away as his body presses against hers to hold her down. Again he nibbles at her neck and licks her breast for what seems like forever. Finally he penetrates her body with his hardness. The sex goes on until neither can barely move or breath.

The next morning they awake in each others arms. As she rises from the bed he drifts back to sleep until the aroma of french toast and bacon fills the air. As he lift himself from bed she enters the room wearing only the negligee he bought her for Valentines day. She carries a plate full of food for them to share. After breakfast they find themselves in the shower making love once again.

Share Poetry #2 & #3

Remember this is old, written by myself yes, but many years ago- I really don't understand some of the stuff I wrote

Alone by Lory Atchley (using name Sarah M)

Alone so much
I cannot see
What's right or wrong
Or in between
I hear the screams
From solitude
I hope so much
It's just a mood
The sad sad songs
That make me cry
Hold the words
That make me lie
I hope and pray
To stay alive

Untitled by Lory Atchley

The wonderful thing we call life
You learn will vanish with death
You come not knowing someday you will leave
You learn to respect and acknowledge death
You soon see beginnings always have an end
You learn to love and how to lose
You love than hate then deny and then accept
You learn there is pain and pray for sanity
The day death comes you learn the pain others felt

Poetry Share #1

Okay - so most of the poetry I wrote when I was younger (teen years) was pretty dark. But- I thought I would share a few. Today:

Death by Lory Atchley
(written sometime in the early 1990's)

Deaths see's only life
Death see's no color, race or religion
Death see's no age, sex or disability
Death doesn't see love or hate
-it cannot distinguish between the two
Death doesn't see the campionship between lovers, friends or family
Death see's no pain
Death see's no loneliness
-and doesn't know loss
Death know's only life and how to destroy it
Death shows no sympathy
Death shows no tears
Death shows no life
Death takes the soul and leaves us to bury the dead
Death comes when it wants
Death comes how it wants
Death comes without warning
Death does what it wants
Death proves to have no emotions
Death sees only life
-and knows only to destroy it

to Give or not to Give

When I was younger I would bring friends home and my mother would say I wanted to try to help them. The friends I brought home had some issue or another with their family (don't we all) or something bad had happened to them. Sometimes my mom would say I brought home strays. That is not to say my friends were bad, or mangy, or anything other than someone who needed a friend. It turns out though that it was I too who needed that friend.

I'm not sure where in life I learned to give so much. I had a very patient hand my Nanny would say, and was very creative. I would write wonderful letters to inspire and quot scripture. When I read these notes now I don't know that it was me, I really don't know that it was me. It is like looking through someone else's eyes at my past. Maybe Giving stemmed somewhat from that, and me wanting to share what I had accomplished. Maybe it was for some attention or recognition. 

Some how I think in our core we all want to Give, to help. It makes you feel good. Who wouldn't want to feel good by doing something for someone, to help someone? At least I feel we all start out that way, I want to believe that. So, where does it go? When or where do some start to take advantage of or stop recognizing what others do for them?

As I grew older I started to call home (SC) only when I needed things. As a lot of teenagers do, my life was busy and I didn't really think always about catching up with family or letting them know how I was doing. I was being selfish. I still was a Giver though, still try to help others out, weather they asked for it or not. Once it started a fight. A funny fight:
                My one friend was 'dating' this guy and a mutual friend was being inappropriate with said guy. We were all good friends. When I found out what was happening my boyfriend at the time said to keep my nose out of it. In this situation you must think long and hard about your decision. My decision was to help. But- how? I went to the friend that was in the wrong- to her only. She knew it was coming. I went into school, told her to stand up, then to take off her glasses. Like I said, she knew it was coming. She did as asked and I took the one hit, only one. I then told her to sit down and gave her her glasses back. I said to her that she should know how worse this would be if it was not me, that this was a taste, and the friendships she would tear apart it her behavior continued. All went as it should. What was funny is another one of our good friends just sat there and watched, he had no clue what was happening, hahaha!
-The point to this story is for you to see that I helped the person that was in the wrong.

Eventually my father laid down the law. He would give no more. It struck me so hard it has been an echo in my head ever since. I told him so just the other day when he said to let him know if I ever need anything. You see, I haven't asked my father for a single thing for 15+ years (which was when I got pregnant), up until this past year when I asked him to help get my son to Italy on a trip.

I could go on about how I helped so and so and how I gave to whashername. I could tell you about how I dropped everything for this person or how I always think about that person. How when I see something that would help that person I may buy it even when I can't afford it, but knowing it will help them. I could tell you how I have suffered myself to help others to live a better life. But what would be the point - it would just be the same story over and over and it would just take up a lot of time.

There is a time, or several times, in a persons life that they think and reflect on what they have done for others and what they have done for themselves. The funny thing is that it is usually after one person in your life shows such gratitude and gratefulness to you that you see what others have taken advantage of or how they have just not been the friend you thought they were, or the family member you know they think they are.

I try to see both sides of the story when a friend calls for help/advice. I try to be honest, and sometimes that means telling them they are in the wrong. I have friends that appreciate that. In trying to see both sides of a story, I need to see both sides of mine. I come up with reasons and excuses for others behavior or lack there of. It doesn't help the pain of knowing you may be a friend of convenience. It doesn't help the pain of being forgotten, or left behind, or left out of something special or even just a simple cup of coffee. I sometimes blame myself and I may or may not actually be responsible for the lack of  'love' (it's the only word I can think of) between myself and others.

So - recently I have done quit a bit for different friends/family/neighbors/acquaintances. The one I did the least for is the one I felt such gratitude from. It made me want to do more for them. So I did. The blessings I placed on this family were placed right back on me by feeling and knowing that what I could do for them meant so much. It filled my heart! Is it enough to overcome the feelings of hurt from the ones that do not show this same gratefulness? I can't answer that, for I continue to do for others.

It can eventually tear you down to Give and Give when you have the struggle in your heart about how others react to your kindness. I understand that a simple thank you is wonderful - but if there is no feeling in that, no true gratefulness behind those words, that is a let down. Maybe this is where I am wrong, for I do expect more from my friends/family.
 Why do I continued to Give, to have the heart to answer their call when they need help, to provide what I see would be a blessing. Why do I continue to do for others what some refuse to do for me & mine, weather consciously or unknowingly? - because maybe they might be incapable of doing for me: a friend, a family member, a stranger in the store.
It just takes me back again to my dad telling me: "you only call when you want something" and how he said "enough".

However, Givers, continue to do the good deeds, to be the good person, to give with our hearts ad anything else we do and let God work the rest out.

But still, sometimes, all I wanna say is "Karma's a B@!#^" and not feel bad about it.

Seven Things

My moms childhood/lifelong friend posted a blog today with a challenge to share seven things about yourself. Now I wasn't mentioned in the 'like to hear from' group, but I find it interesting. I am not sure if there are guidelines in what to share or how long it shouldn't be, lol. So, like my mom I will just start with #1 and see what comes to mind working my way through this blog.

#1. I was born in West Virginia. From the time I was born to this day I have lived in 6 different states. West Virginia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Maryland, Nevada and Arizona. I attended 10 different schools K-12. I lived in approximately 25 different homes. I am not counting when I 'lived' with friends because I technically still lived in my moms home too. I can tell you I moved more times then places I lived- that is because we lived with my grandparents on two separate occasions and twice the same house in Pineville. So to wrap up #1, NO, I am not a military brat.

#2. In elementary school I won three contest. The first being 'Passenger of the Year on the Bus'. I got a plaque for this. Next was an art contest where I got a Turkey, not really exciting for me. The other was an ice cream eating contest at the Piggly Wiggly on James Island in the winter, with no hands allowed, lol. That time I won a pizza party for my class. In middle school I won an award for MVP in Girls Jr Division Basketball. In high school I won the Outstanding Drama Award my senior year and received a metal and got to wear it for graduation. -Fun Facts-

This really is hard....

#3. When I got pregnant with my son A.J., my Nanny decided that she couldn't be around me. She felt I had deceived them. I told her, and my father too, that I was pregnant after my 1st trimester of pregnancy. What made this so different then others that wait to tell everyone is beyond me. So, in essence this meant I wouldn't see any Atchley's other than my brother and father. She still sent Christmas and Birthday cards and presents to A.J. too. My father called me when my papa started being in the hospital more often and his health really started to decline for me to go to the hospital to visit, even with my Nanny there. This was the only time I saw her. I last saw my Papa Christmas of 96 healthy and vibrant with life, the next time I saw him he was very ill. I saw him only 3 times after that Christmas until I saw him in his coffin. The last time I saw him was the week he passed away. He was so weak, thin, frail, and very ill, and what kills me is that he was embarrassed or ashamed that I had to see him like that. I guess some could say this is a blessing-that I didn't have to see him slowly decline in health. I don't know if I feel that way. My Nanny told someone at my Papas funeral that she just 'loved me too much' and had such expectations for me. That is why she did what she did. After that things started to change again, but they would never be the same with my Nanny & me. I hold onto this-I don't really know how to let go of it. My Nanny passed away about 6weeks ago. It was even hard to listen at her funeral at how my own brother and cousin spoke about her love and how she did not judge-I kept my mouth closed.

#4. I am such a Twihard! Give my Buffy, Angel, Charmed, Vampire Diaries, Dollhouse, Pretty Little Liars etc.- you know- any kinda teen-young adult show, book, movie too. It's my brother fault that I enjoy fantasy so much- he used to have to carry me with him every where so he had to teach me D&D and let me play with his friends! I love Wizards of Waverly Place and watched Hannah Montanna, even The Suite Life of Zack & Cody. I read The Immortal Series, Harry Potter, Twilight (duh), Vampire Diaries (books) and the sort. Don't forget V.C. Andrews, one of my most favorite & long term authors.

#5. Photography! What more can I say? If you look up the word in the dictionary I am sure you will find my picture (haha) somewhere close by. I spend a piece of almost every day either taking, loading, posting, organizing, printing, scanning, dating pictures.

(that one was easy!)

#6. I was in an intense conversation with my son one day and I asked him, I said "you want to know about my life? you want me to tell you?" He answered without any hesitation "NO". So I find it hard to tell others some things about me without sharing how I got to be that way. OR where that behavior stemmed from. I have a hard time sharing a lot of things with others. I don't want the 'poor you' or 'she thinks she had it bad', stuff life that. I guess I find myself holding back a lot. I know that sounds impossible to some, but it is in a different way. I can be very unbiased about a situation you are going through and help in that way and be honest and blunt about how I feel. But its the deeper stuff- things I guess I need to work out- like trust. I have a HUGE trust issue.

#7. I have a wonderful mother. She help to make me who I am. She taught me to speak up, okay so my g-ma Claudia had a hand in that too! My mom made mistakes, she messed up and had the courage to know she had to walk away and had the strength to turn her life around. It was a lesson in life for me. When my life was a little 'ify' I thought about how my mom was able to change her life. I can pull courage from my mom and the many people in her life I have had the pleasure to meet. I want to be the best mother to my son. I know I screw up, I never know if the right decision is the right one to make. I am uncertain of myself at many times and wish there were some things that the crystal ball could tell me! LOL!

I am..who I am..

Like my mom's blog- I am really not sure where the seven came from. I started looking at a photo time line to think about me and my life and what there is to tell about me. The others just found their way onto the screen. I like this kind of blogging! Tell me what to write about and I will do it!!