Bob Evans is Inspirational and Makes Amazing Eggs.

‘Sometimes you get lost on your journey.’ -Nicholas

These were the wise words of my four year old that inspired me to write this blog. ‘Sometimes you get lost on your journey.’ Such an amazing concept for a four year old; of course he was in the middle of doing an activity maze at Bob Evans but either way, it made me think about my journey.

Last night I was privileged enough to go out with some amazing friends, Meghann, Kathy, Timmy and Lora. These people are more than friends; they are my family. Last night I laughed more than I have laughed in a long time- I actually felt happy. I haven’t felt happy in a long, long time but these people made me feel what is stuck inside me trying to break free.

When I left the restaurant, I started thinking about all those amazing friends I have that are my ‘family.’ We are all scattered throughout the U.S and I wish we could spend more time together. These special people are in Florida, California, Colorado, Illinois and Pennsylvania. I miss them all dearly but I am fortunate to have these friends know me so well, that if we don’t talk for six months, we can just pick back up where we left off. Nothing changes; we still laugh at the same jokes, tell stories of our glory days and share the joys and hardships of being an adult. These special people are undoubtedly, my family.

Sometimes it’s about the journey. So currently my journey is in a very dark place. I am still in this maze hitting the road blocks and making wrong turns. I feel like I am in a very dark tunnel of this damn maze but I know I can see light at the end. Of course I am crawling on my hands and knees trying to make it out alive but I know that when I finally reach that light, I will have these people waiting for me. They have been cheering me on in their own way. Whether it’s making me laugh, listening to me when I cry or calling people to make sure that I am safe.

My road blocks are friendships and relationships that went bad. It’s my trust issues, my abandonment issues, my anger, my depression and yet I know these people are sticking by me like family should. I couldn’t be more appreciative of their presence, even from far away. I know, no matter what that this family will never leave me and the reason I know is because I have had this family for some time. My oldest friendship is thirty-five years old and my youngest is like eight years. These people don’t always have to be around but knowing that they will always be on the other end of that tunnel is important to me. It gives me hope.

Last night was a special moment when I actually felt happy, it was like an old memory. I need to get there again and the only way to do that is to try to hold on to those fleeting moments of pure joy.

The key to the journey is having support and encouragement along the way. My support are these friends I call family, it’s my amazing husband Joe and it’s my damn good therapist. Without these people I would probably be dead. They are the ones that encourage me to keep going, to get through this damn maze, and get  out of this dark tunnel. And even if I am crawling on my hands and knees and it takes years to get out, I know, with absolute certainty, that they will be there.

With great love and a bit of joy today,

Allison

This blog is dedicated to my friends that are more like my family, my amazing husband and my fantastic therapist:

Meghann, Katie, Becca, Timmy, Lora, Kathy, Lindsay, Lisa, Joe and Colleen

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Stick a Fork in Me, I’m Done.

So last night, I was getting drinks for me and Joe while we were watching a movie. Occasionally, we leave the dishwasher open so the dishes can air dry.

So there I was being a loving wife, trying to get the bottle opener, while watching tv and I backed up, backed up a little more and my cankles hit the dishwasher door and I fell on top of the dishwasher.

Yes, my giant ass broke the dishwasher door, while several forks and other silverware stabbed my ass. And I was a turtle on it’s shell, just rolling back and forth, hoping that the momentum would get me on my side. Luckily, Joe came over and helped me up.

Now, here I am, unable to properly sit on the toilet or look at the broken dishwasher without feeling bad that I broke it with my giant body.

So yes, folks, the saying- ‘Stick a fork in me, I’m done’, is not just a saying it’s my reality.

Until next time,

I am going to ice my ass and my ego… excuse me.

It’s a Christmas Miracle!

Christmas is always a time of great joy but I also want to share with you what I have learned over the last week:

1) when one of your kids gets three Christmas cards at school and the other two have none, what do you do? You give those other two the stack of 60 Christmas cards, that you haven’t opened, and tell them all the cards are their’s. Good plan until you have to speed read to three children and explain the family connection to all the picture cards all at one time.

2) When you realize Santa totally over bought for the kids and your husband suggests to take some stuff back but you are staring at him with divorce papers. Like hell I’m going back to the store.

3)when you have totally wrapped all the gifts and you only lose the tape and scissors once. I guess drinking while wrapping is helpful.

4) when you run out of tape and your husband can only find double sided tape and you are the idiot that is still using it like regular tape. Therefore, after you finish and you have all the presents stacked, and now you realize that they are all stuck together and ripping apart. Cool.

5) carrying presents up and down the stairs to the basement doesn’t make my bum ankle feel better. Thank God Santa has a sack. Haha… sack.

5) going up and down those stairs shows you that you have to jump. Jump right on that ‘it’s a new year, I should lose weight’ band wagon. My abs hurt from climbing stairs. That’s when you realize you are too fat to jump on that band wagon because I am too out of shape to physically jump.

6) when you go to the late mass and your children are overly tired and then they ask how Jesus died; because I don’t have a filter, I explain what happened. Meanwhile, I look at my husband for guidance and his head is in his hands but he isn’t praying.

7) because of your no filter, your kids become depressed over Jesus and demand to see him. I tell them that Jesus is in their heart but it’s not enough.

8) when your kids are on the kneeler at church and ask if there will be popcorn. You don’t have volume control either, much like your children, and you yell ‘no Jesus is not giving out popcorn.’ The people in the front of you bust out laughing and the kids are still wondering if there will be snacks.

9) when Santa buys the nerf dart guns and the boys have done the following: shot the pictures and the tv. And also lost a magazine and at least 11 out of 20 darts. Good job kids… you made Santa cry.

10) your daughter gets a scooter and you just let her to ride around the house because going outside would take more effort.

11) when you say goodnight to your kid and he says how much he misses Jesus and he is currently making the crucifix walk. And he is like… ‘look mommy Jesus is walking.’ Is this the time to explain that this is not proper and we have to do some penance?

12)your house looks like a bomb went off and you found a new drink- hot chocolate and coconut rum. You are constantly looking at the house hoping that you will care about the mess but then you are also looking at the clock wondering if it’s too early to drink.

I decided to keep the mess and have some hot chocolate instead. I have the tv on so I am not drinking alone because there are people talking to me through the tv. I feel like that counts.

Hope you and your family had a great holiday season. Mine was busy, messy and full of double sided tape. But we had that small miracle when Jesus was walking on the cross. Now excuse me while I drink and go do ten Hail Mary’s and ten Our Father’s.

Until next time,

Rolling my fat ass on the bandwagon in like a week.

Joe is the 4th Wiseman…

“Can you please get me a guide on ‘how to braid your daughter’s hair?'” -me

“I will tell you exactly how to do it:
Step 1) put your daughter’s hair loosely in a ponytail.
Step 2) take your daughter to daycare.
Step 3) pick her up and her hair is magically in a braid.” -Joe

Yes… this is what happens in the morning for Joe. I still need a tutorial.

And my daughter’s hair is a giant Christmas fail. Sorry Jesus… her hair is messy.

Abandonded Photography is What I Do.

 

I have been giving this blog a lot of thought and I am in a bad place right now and I figured, maybe if I write out my thoughts, I would feel better. So yeah. Let’s write. But before you read this, I don’t want sympathy or sadness, I just want to get my thoughts out and maybe I can help one person.

Going to therapy is extremely hard. It’s been described to me as ripping up the road for construction, with detours and fresh gravel and it takes a long time to be repaved. I feel like I am a bridge that was getting repaved and then disaster struck and I had to collapse and start over.

I have found throughout my life that I have had a lot of abandonment issues and even more trust issues. My parents separated when I was in fifth grade, got back together and then divorced finally when I was nineteen. All you readers of divorced parents can sympathize with me about divorce. It’s horrible and it messes with your head. It affects your relationships with your significant other and even friends. If you are the family where your divorced parents are cordial and can talk without it being awkward, well, hey, good for you. That is not my family.

So since I was young, I had a lot of this abandonment and trust problems. Dad leaves physically and mom checks out mentally. My brother and sister did their own thing and so did I. We all took care of our needs in our own way. We all did what we had to do to survive. I have learned through therapy, there is no blame, it’s just that you have to accept it and work through it. For me it’s still a game of survival- like the freaking Hunger Games; I am still trying to just survive.

I am also going through a lot with people that I thought were my friends (read the blog ‘Losing a Friend’ or ‘Take Your Mom’s Advice’). People that I cared deeply for just left. Just like a poof of smoke they are gone. And you are left there wondering what you did or what you could have done differently to make them stay. All these unanswered questions that will never be answered because life never has closure. And that bothers me… the ‘why?’

So let me explain why I photograph abandoned buildings. I like to find abandoned buildings and take pictures of what used to be. All of these buildings have a history and have a story. You can feel the presence of the people that once walked the halls; the people that prayed for God’s guidance and the military officials that walked the grounds. I don’t just think about these people- I obsess over the history; the history of the people and the building.

My obsession comes from the why and the what if’s and the how could they? These buildings were once so beautiful but one day someone decided that this place wasn’t good enough and just got up and left. Where did the people go? Where is their stuff and why do they leave so much behind? Some many unanswered questions- questions that will never be answered. That really bothers me.

I am that abandoned building. I realized that I am so drawn to this photography because I have been tossed aside by family or friends that just decided that they don’t want me anymore. Don’t feel bad for me, don’t cry or have pity on me… I just want one person to listen.

On the outside, I look strong. I always joke around when I am at work or with friends and family but inside I am that dilapidated building. I am worn down, my paint is chipping and there are plenty of holes through my body. My insides feel like they can’t take another incident. I am in so much pain that my insides burn and I look for ways to find relief but find nothing that helps. I feel weathered and weak and I feel unwanted.

And that’s why I want to photograph everything and anything that is abandoned; it was once loved and beautiful and now it’s dilapidated and falling apart. Those buildings are out there weathering the storm and they continue to stand even though people that said they would be there never really kept their word. That’s me. Barely standing. Barely living. Barely able to take another blow. Therapy is my only choice if I want to see another day. It’s the day of the week I always looked forward to and still do.

One day I hope to feel better but right now it seems impossible but I have a good therapist and a great husband that believes I will get there. My ETA is undetermined; I am just following the detour signs to get back onto the main road like everyone else.

Until next time,

Detour up ahead

Allison Iannone Photogaphy

This is my photography page and all of my work is here. I have taken pictures in an abandoned tuberculosis hospital, an abandoned church and cemetery and an abandoned military site.

I hope you can ‘like’ the page while you visit and I hope you look at my work. If you have any places that are abandoned and you know their location, let me know. I am always looking for something new to photograph; it’s like my own way to give myself therapy.

Thanks for reading.