Let it Go


I ❤️️ this…

I think maybe because I’m always reminding myself “Better or Bitter? Kelly what’s it going to be?”

Love or Hate?

Forgivness or Anger?

Kindness or Vengeance?

Life is hard, so very Very VERY HARD my sweet friends.

But we can still be soft.

And find all the laughter and goodness in this world we live in.

We don’t ever forget the pain or life lessons we were given during the bad times.

But we don’t have to let them decide our futures.

We decide who and how we are going to be in the future.

I’m still going to be vulnerable, because keeping your guard up 24/7 is exhausting.

I’m still going to be kind to strangers and believe in the innate kindness of people.

I still might get angry.

I still might be sad.

sometimes maybe a little bit crazy.

But I will on most days be better not bitter.

I hope you are too…

“I used to recognize myself
It’s funny how reflections change
When we’re becoming something else
I think it’s time to walk away

So come on let it go
Just let it be
Why don’t you be you
And I’ll be me

Everything’s that’s broke
Leave it to the breeze
Why don’t you be you
And I’ll be me”

-James Bay-

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Sunday Morning


Just leaving this here for my friends walking down the same road I traveled….

Someday it will be better.

You will heal.

You won’t hurt every minute of every day.

You will move on.

And you will be okay, some days even great.

Don’t give up.



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Easy Creamy Chicken Enchilada Soup

It has finally gotten cold in Oklahoma…

A freezing 60 in the afternoons, go ahead and laugh. My family is glad I’m so cold natured, because I bake and cook to ‘warm’ up the house.

This weekend I wanted to try something different, my favorite fall soup is usually Chicken Tortilla. I switched it up with Chicken Enchilada soup…I know Crazy Kelly must be running the kitchen.

It was yummy and easy, I even remembered to write down all my tweaks and changes, my girls are reading this and cheering. I usually take things from ten recipes, then add my own flair, it comes out amazing, and can never be replicated.

Try this it took 35 minutes to make and I had all the ingredients on hand.

Easy Creamy Chicken Enchilada Soup

Prep time 5
Cook time
30 mins
Total time
35 minutes.

Serves 10


1 tbsp olive oil

2 Chicken Breasts seasoned with garlic powder and pepper

1 c. onion, chopped

1/2 green and red bell peppers chopped.

1/2 tsp cumin

1 10 oz can red enchilada sauce

8 oz cream cheese cubed

1 14 oz can Rotel

1 can black beans, drained and rinsed.

1 can whole corn, drained

2 cups chicken broth or water with chicken soup base added.

2 cups montery jack cheese and cheddar cheese divided.


10 Corn Tortillas cut into strips and fried in oil till crispy. Drain on paper towel and lightly salt.

1/2 cup cilantro chopped

1/2 cup green onion sliced.

Sour Cream


Heat the olive oil in a Dutch oven  over medium heat. Add the seasoned chicken and cook for 5 min per side. Add  the onion,bell peppers, and cumin and cook for about 5 minutes until the onion is soft and translucent. Remove the chicken from the pot and set aside to cool. Once cool chop up into small bite sized pieces.
Add the enchilada sauce and cream cheese. Keep breaking up and stirring in cream cheese until combined.
Add the Rotel, black beans, corn and stir.
Add the chopped chicken breast and chicken broth. Stir and cook for about 10 to 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, just until the soup is really hot. Don’t boil too long or cream cheese could curdle. Add one cup of cheese mixture and stir till melted.

Remove from heat and garnish with toppings.

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Ribbons and Detours

img_9091Four  years ago my life changed…

I was forced to take a detour through hell.

I was tested and brought to my knees.

I could have literally filled the bathtub I was often laying in with my tears.

There were times I prayed for peace.

Others I asked for vengeance.

I often went crazy with my grief.

Spending hours, then days, which turned to weeks unable to function or get out of bed.

I was so angry and bitter.

Constantly trying to figure out why?

Yelling at the top of my lungs how unfair it was until I was hoarse.

Arguing with God that I was a good person who didn’t deserve this.

Wasting away to a mere shadow of myself…in spirit and size.

Screaming at God to give me my life back.

Finally I found my way again.

It was still a detour from my previously scheduled life.

I learned to embrace the detours in life.

To let go and let God.

He has sent me tests.

I have failed and kept on trying.

Continuing when you are lost and tired is half the battle.

Here I stand.

Not a year, not two years but four years out from D-Day.

I am surrounded by my family.

I am now called Gammy by one, soon to be two grand babies.

My children have grown up.

They still have two parents who love them and are a daily part of thier lives.

They know I’m crazy and love me anyways.

I am surrounded by friends, some who have been by my side for years, but a large group newly assembled.

And by assembled,  I mean  they will circle the wagons and go to “fist city” for me.

My detour lead me down a really bumpy road.

I didn’t choose it.

But I don’t fight it anymore.

Four years out.

I’m better most days.

And I’m still trying everyday.

To find the happiness which used to live here.

“I can’t believe it, you of all things
It’s been a while, memories teem
Some kind of anthem lingering
Images settle internally

Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me
Swaying the sentiments, pulling our strings
Tempting me softly, but killing our dream
You said it’s over but maybe
It’s the same old thing

[Verse Two]
I can’t believe it, you of all things
Coming in homage, devious needs
Intimate outlies, weakening
Tranquilize slowly, inside of me”


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D-day is approaching.

It makes me a little angry and sad.

Not totally flipping out crazy anymore, just a little angry and sad.

Hey, that is progress.

My life has been extremely busy, I think that helps me not dwell and immerse myself in the anniversary of the worst day in my life.

I feel God testing me lately, maybe smacking me, because he knows how I am.

My blog and my personal life, were attacked publicly a couple weeks ago. I was told I can’t preach kindness and non judgment in life if I continue to write this blog.

I guess people in my small town think I’m crazy 🙂 for writing about my life.

There is a group of people whom I guess have nothing better to do but read my blog and then discuss how awful I am.

Awful mother.

Horrible wife.

I must need more Jesus in my life.

Those words she uses?

The stories she tells?

Oh my gosh she’s going to Hell!!

As they talk and make their comments about me, on Facebook.

People  who have never set foot in my house.

Have never set at my kitchen counter.

Never had more than a fifteen minute conversation with me.

Who then received messages on their wall congratulating them on putting me in my place?

Thier talk of me, Kelly, acting as if I’m perfect.

I stopped, took a big breath, calmly sat down with a smile.

Then I thanked God for showing me how much I’d grown and how far I’ve come.

Three years ago, they would have brought me to my knees.

Two years ago, I would have called them  out.

Instead I laughed.

I don’t care.

I started writing to heal.

To not feel so alone.

To convince myself I wasn’t crazy.

It has helped to heal me.

I have helped others along the way.

And at some point, I stopped worrying about being crazy and embraced it instead.

I think others would be so much happier if they could make peace with thier own crazy too.

Instead they will spend thier days throwing stones at people like me.

My arm would get way too tired to live like that.

So instead I’ll just sit over here with Angry Kelly, Crazy Kelly, and Sad Kelly.

Bob made popcorn for us 🙂

We’re just going to sit back and watch the rerun of people making a show of calling me out.

“Haven’t we seen this episode before?” Crazy Kelly takes a handful of popcorn.

“Sshh, they mentioned me by name!!” Angry Kelly does a fist pump.

“Bahahaha!! I love this episode!!!” Sad Kelly holds her stomach as tears roll down her face from laughter.

Bob quietly holds out his hand and my fist meets his in a fist bump.

“Seems like there’s always someone who disapproves
They’ll judge it like they know about me and you
And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do
The jury’s out, but my choice is you

So don’t you worry your pretty little mind
People throw rocks at things that shine
And life makes love look hard
The stakes are high, the water’s rough
But this love is ours”








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I Am Woman

The presidential election has been bugging me.

Politics Kelly? Really?

Not so much politics as an “Excuse Me?!?”

Politics in 2016 is a nasty business.

It is just NASTY and REVOLTING.

I understand it’s the age we live in, with reality T.V. and social media, everyone is writing their own script.

Hillary killed a Kennedy.

Trump saved troops in desert storm.

Both stories can be researched and fact checked.

Both stories are false.

People keep posting and ‘reporting’ and believing.

I keep on shaking my head and moving on.

Except the last couple weeks I’ve started to get a little angry.

I might have asked the TV and my newsfeed on Facebook, “Are you fucking serious?!?” More than a couple times.

Bill cheated on Hillary.

Bill cheated and Hillary had a choice.

Stand and fight for HER marriage, or decide to leave.

She chose to stand.

‘They’ say she wasn’t nice and supportive of Bill’s victims.

‘They’ say she helped him prove several of the accusations false.

Now ‘they’ say she has no self respect or dignity, for staying with her husband after he cheated.

‘They’ are holding her accountable for her husband’s choices.

She didn’t cheat.

She didn’t have an affair.

She stood on stage with a man, hours after he invited the women involved with her husband, to sit in the audience.

Front row.

To humiliate her.

To shake her.

To make her lose her poise and get a reaction.

When it failed? She was called cold and robotic.

As a stupid woman, with no dignity, who stood by her cheating husband.

Who sat front row across from his ‘victim’.

Who took him to court to humiliate him and me.

On false accusations.

Who sat there cold and robotic, as her lawyer laughed in my face.

Who showed no reaction to her or her mother’s lies.

I’m going to tell you it’s fucking hard.

It is hard to not jump across a stage or courtroom and start soccer kicking their heads around a room.

It is hard to stand before your child and fear you have failed them by not leaving.

It is so fucking hard to stand before a town/nation and be judged. Not for your actions, but for your reaction to a really shitty situation.

Trump cheated on his first wife.

He has admitted to it.

But that’s okay according to his supporters.

Hillary stood by her husband, and stayed in their marriage.

That just proves what kind of woman she is, and why she shouldn’t be president ‘they’ say.

‘They’ need to stop.

Judge her for her policies.

Judge her for her record.

But don’t you dare judge her for being a betrayed spouse and fighting for her family.

It doesn’t in my opinion reflect poorly on her, but on you.

Let’s stick to actual things that used to matter, like the economy and foreign policy.

Not judge a woman based upon the crimes of a man.

“I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back an’ pretend
‘Cause I’ve heard it all before
And I’ve been down there on the floor
No one’s ever gonna keep me down again
Oh yes, I am wise
But it’s wisdom born of pain
Yes, I’ve paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong
I am invincible
I am woman”
-Helen Reddy-







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Imaginary Friend

A friend messaged me last night…

“FUCK!! You left out what Bob said!!”

She went on to say he was one of her favorites and she still reads every one of my posts.

I think after 20 years of being a listening ear?

Of crying…



and putting up with me.

You get to ask for Bob to make an appearance 🙂

Bob my inner therapist. He is the voice of sanity, when my other Kelly’s rise up and sometimes take the wheel.

As I laid in bed sandwiched between Angry Kelly and Crazy Kelly, with Sad Kelly hunkered down at the foot of the bed, I heard a voice clear their throat…


We all looked up, and Crazy Kelly quickly hid the bottle of Vodka we had been passing around.

“Aren’t you all a mess today,” Bob smiled down at us, standing at the foot of my bed.

“Fff..uuu..cc..kkk,” Crazy Kelly slurred trying to sit up.

“Bob??” Sad Kelly wiped her eyes as she pulled the covers back.

Angry Kelly glared at him, and threw her pillow towards his smiling face.

Bob caught the pillow and gently laid it at Angry Kelly’s feet.

“We’re making progress I see, ” he chuckles to himself. ” Not a month full of crying and anger, not even a whole week of it. This is the smallest pity party I’ve seen on your anniversary.”

“Fuck you very much Bob,” Angry Kelly kicks the pillow off her feet and it smacks Sad Kelly in the face.

“Still having anger issues I see,” Bob opens his notebook and writes quickly. ” But thats to be expected, so is sadness and sometimes wanting to make unwise choices.” He nods towards Crazy Kelly who has quickly took another swing of the vodka, and is struggling to keep it down.

“But I’m so tired of it still hurting,” whines Sad Kelly as a tear rolls down her cheek. “It’s not fair..”

“Life my sweet imaginary friends, has never been about fair,” Bob hands Crazy Kelly the trash can as she loses the battle and her lunch.

“Shut the fuck up Bob, no one invited you!!” Angry Kelly wrinkles her nose as the smell of vomit reaches her.

“Well as figments of Kelly’s imagination? None of us were invited, it’s kind of like a high school kegger, we all just crash these pity parties.” Bob pats Crazy Kelly’s back as she starts heaving again.

“Is it ever going to hurt less Bob?” I ask him. ” Am I ever going to be fully healed and able to just be me, just happy? Normal? Free of the anger, sadness and crazy? ”

“These sides of you,” Bob motions towards the other Kellys,” they are as much a part of you now as Funny Kelly, Mom Kelly and Kind Kelly. You used to hide these parts, afraid to acknowledge they were there. Afraid to admit to being anything but ‘Facebook’ perfect. Now you not only acknowledge them but embrace them. ” Bob strokes Sad Kelly’s hair softly.” You have come so far Kelly, from the Kelly laying in the bottom of her tub crying, to the one sitting here now. You are stronger, braver, and a okay kind of crazy. A crazy which let’s you be you with no apologies, it keeps you insanely sane.”

“What does that mean Bob, no seriously, stop the mumbo jumbo bullshit therapist lingo and tell us what the fuck it means?!?” Angry Kelly slams her fist down.

“It means you’re going to be okay, and while you will probably never celebrate your wedding anniversary again, there are worse things.” Bob closes his book, and tucks his pen in his shirt pocket.

“Worse?!?” All Kellys ask in a chorus of voices.

Bob chuckles,” Yes, worse, you could all be forever known as the CanCan Whore of Valdez.”

Bob turns to walk away,” And that my sweet Kellys is something that lingers forever… longer than sadness, anger or even vodka smelling vomit. Because no matter what she does? Being a dancing, tutu wearing, selfie taking, lip puckering, fucker of husbands and random men? It’s a legacy which will never be overcome,” Bob stops in a the doorway,” As a smart women once said, whore is a hard smell to get out..” Bob waves and in a puff of magic fairy dust disappears.

As do the other Kellys, leaving behind only a rumpled bed and lingering smell of vomit.

“When I was young I had imaginary friends
and boy did we have fun
One day my mother told me they were just pretend
and then I had no one
Building castles out of dirty, smelly sand
and baking in the sun
Hear the sound of the popsicle man
and we’d run, run, run, run, run, run, run

And My life is like a movie
everyone is going slow
There’s a crazy cast of characters
none of which are real at all
and I cannot feel you anymore
\n No, no, no, no, no

In the summer, we will spend the night outside
in the comfort of our own backyards
Then we got older and we went our seperate ways
and everything got hard

Look at me, I’m getting older
Look at me, I know
Look at me, I’m getting older
Look at me, I know”










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