One day things will suck less...

Today has been really crappy to be honest. Things are just not working out for me. I am being tested beyond belief.

I have always been the support system for so many people, my entire life I have had to be the shoulder for people to cry on and I have handled that pretty well. I learned it from my mother. She is the strongest person I have ever met. She had a rough life growing up, she joined the Air-force,  met my sperm donor and had to deal with a whole different load of shit from him, then came the divorce and raising two kids alone pretty much... its just a lot. Now she is raising my nephew while I go to school and my sister kills herself at two jobs (just so she can send money to her unemployed alcoholic sister - me). Yea Mom and Alissa are truly my bread and butter.

But every time I hear pain in my mother's voice it literally breaks me down. Dealing with depression is shitty enough, but then being reminded there is nothing that I can do to alleviate my family's pain is even worse.

Back when I lived in Chapel Hill I helped them out with money all the time. Mainly with Cameron. i used to buy most of his clothes and help out with random surprises and parties. But now his 8th birthday is coming up and I can't even buy him a gift. I called my mom and asked her what the plans were for his birthday and she lost it... just blew up at me reminding me how poor we are and how we never do anything together anymore because of scheduling issues and location and so many other things that make throwing Cameron a huge birthday a horrible idea.

Yea, that is exactly what I wanted to hear today. After helping Bae cope with the stupid issues at his job, Mommie just made my day worse. I can't win for losing... Overtime picked up and mandatory 8-10 hours has Panda losing his mind and contemplating quitting. Not to put us in a horrible predicament but just quitting because he is super miserable. So we had to talk off that ledge. Can't have us falling even deeper into poverty can I?

Annnnddddd to top it all off, the in-laws are telling him that they might move even farther away. Farther away means even less visit time than we already have. It is already a 3 hour drive to see them, which is damn near impossible with low funds and we drive a 4 Runner... but if they really do move its going to be a 4 hour drive - which means "yea not happening".

Some people would think we should just move closer to our parents, but I have no desire to move in with our parents (which is what would have to happen for us to relocate right about now).

Stress and depression and poverty do not go well at all... But this is just another trial in life, something that will bring us closer when we survive it (and that we will - SURVIVE). It is all just heavy, weight that we must bear. Nothing more.

I remind myself we have a roof over our head, a steady income that allows us to make ends meet and we have loving family that supports us any way possible. With all that we are blessed. So counting each blessing is what gets me thru the day and reminds me that one day, things will suck less.

Not where I thought I'd be, but pretty grateful anyway

I haven't written in a few days. Probably over a week. I'm sitting here looking at the rain fall and watching my furbabies curl up for a nice nap while Panda sleeps in the next room. My life is pretty good to be honest. I may not have it all nor know which way is up half the time, but as I sit here and contemplate on all that I do have, I realize that I am blessed. 

My boyfriend works endlessly to support us and our fur babies. He is patient and kind and in touch with his emotions, we can talk about issues that arise between us and outside of our relationship. We have common goals and dreams. He encourages me on my worst days and loves me on my best. He never judges nor breaks me down. He truly accepts me: flaws and all. 

My mother is my rock and backbone. She has never ever let me fall alone .Whenever I was down she took the time to build me back up. All the trouble I got into in high school (which trust me, was a lot) she just dealt with it. When I brought home my first girlfriend she just asked her if she was staying for dinner. Then when I started dating a guy she did't bat an eye. She never missed a soccer game or pageant or parade or concert or track meet all while working two jobs. My mother is my super hero and definitely my guiding light in the dark world I walk.

Alissa Ann my sister has become such a good friend to me, this is something amazing because we didn't grow up close at all. We fought so much it genuinely stressed my mother out, she rarely came to any game or anything I was in in school, She moved out after my freshman year so she could have her own life and only came back when Mommie had surgery. Even after not seeing her for two years we fought like hell. Hindsight revealed a lot to me. She paid for my senior year, single handedly bought all the things I had. To this day she loans me money when I need help. She jokingly asked me when did she give birth to me last time I was home because I asked her to give me gas money. I paused and said about 17 years ago. She has been my big sister longer than I've acknowledged and definitely my other guardian. I love her and am so thankful for the relationship we are building as adults. We have missed so much. 

I have a great support system in mmy friends. We talk to each other when we can, we are understanding that life is a thing thats happening, and we are all adults about it. Regardless of the location they are I know they are there for me. My best friend of early 15 years chats with me daily. My sister wives from high school (10 years in the making and still going strong) talk to me weekly and we plan get togethers around holidays so that all our different addresses can be the same even if its for just a weekend, And my beach babe is my daily motivation to not give into depression, She reminds me that even getting dressed and sitting on the porch is something to celebrate on the roughest days. My dear A&F connect is still a strong soul that I never realized I needed, his dedication to me is so reassuring especially when I feel as tho I don't even matter. My friends are truly a gift and their friendship cannot be replaced. 

Panda and I may not be rich, but we are truly blessed. We live meaningful lives, we have a roof over our head and food for ourselves and our furkids. No we can't go shopping when we want and we may be viceless longer than we like, but all our necessities are met, We have everything we need. Maybe not all we want, but then again who ever does? 

My life may not be anywhere I imagined it would be by now, but its so much farther than I expected it to be. I am in a committed relationship where the possibility for real grow is present. I have a small handle on a pretty serious mental illness and all the support and encouragement I could ask for from a pretty awesome circle. Thing could always be better, but I am in love with where they are. There is so much room for growth and I am able to see that. I am able to envision the possibilities, and just a year or so ago I could barely envision breathing. Now I'm fighting to live every day. Baby steps get me just a bit closer to the finish line... and I am thankful for each step I take. 

Adulting and Decisioning and Lifeing

Making decisions is the worst part of being an adult, seriously there is nothing that makes this process easy. From moving into your first apartment to taking that job you thought was so perfect for you. Nothing about making decisions is easy. 

It gets even harder when you are making decisions WITH someone. Like Bae. 

God knows we can barely decide on what to eat for dinner... which trust me, is an EVERYDAY discussion. 

I am fortunate thou, when I met Bae it was random and perfect. He lived in Greensboro NC and I lived in Wilmington NC. We made the long distance thing work for a while, a few months. Each of us taking turns driving down 40 E/W (respectfully). But for my birthday he asked me what I wanted. I told him flippantly that I wanted him to live with me in Wilmington. 

That was a big deal, because he had never lived with someone he dated before and we had literally just met a few months back (we met in February he moved in in May). So it was pretty unnerving, there was so much on the line. This move was the make it or break it type decision. But he made it.  

He quit his job he was working, loaded his room into the back of his friends car, kissed his parents good bye and drove to a place he told me he would never return to. He left Wilmington NC after he graduated and vowed he had no reason to return. Now, a year later, he still smiles every day when he wakes and tells me this was the best decision he has made. 

It may be the best one he's made, but no way it was easy. Nothing is easy. 

Living with each other sure isn't but its fun and challenging... I love the ups we have and I cry over the downs, but with him living here we go through the downs together. The perk of moving back to Wilmington. 

When he first moved here he did so without having a job lined up... for 5 months he sat in the living room sending out a million applications all over Wilmington, pleading for employment. I was finishing my last year of my undergraduate career and working two jobs. Yup I was in summer school and working. It was harder on him than it was on me. Here is a young man living off his girlfriend. Nothing about that is easy for a guy, much less a guy who just began this relationship. Yet he stuck with it. We talked daily and we worked and reworked his resume and cover letter and he hit the pavement and after 5 months he found a really good job. It wasn't what he wanted but it was a good one and he is happy there. He is excelling at it, even on the days he hates it and all the office politics that go with it. 

And now the handle has turned and I am unemployed and have been for months... Same situation.. different partner. 

But every day we must make decisions, from something as simple as buying cigarettes and wine to paying the rent a few days late to whether we should go to the movies or stay in. All these things are stuff we have to decide and its nerve wracking.

Marriage is a topic we have tossed around, not halfheartedly, but we haven't set a date or anything serious. Just discussed it. Rings, babies, moving and gradschool. These are all decisions we have to make together. 

We got a dog and a cat together. After he moved to Wilmington we got a kitten together... then a few months later we got a Pit Bull... these are decisions we have made together and they sure weren't little ones. No we didn't get pregnant but we did get kids. Animals don't feed their selves.When we travel we have to make arrangements for them, house sitter or take them with us. We can't abandon them. So yea we have kids. 

All these decisions that came just from a chance meeting in a bar with a guy whose eyes captivated me. Being an adult is nothing like TV makes it out to be. On the good days things are great and the sun shines and the wind blows thru my hair as I smile. On the shitty days we fight disagree and can't even look at each other. 

But part of being an adult is sticking in there when the fight gets tough and the decisions are hard to make. Standing up for what you want and making it happen, supporting each other regardless of agreeing with each other and most of all COMMUNICATION...  

Being an adult is a lot of things, but most of all its being true. To yourself, your heart, your passions and your loved ones. Decisioning is hard. Adulting is hard. Living is hard. But I wouldn't change it for the world.

Now instead of hiding in my bedroom under the pillow fort coloring my Precious Moments coloring books eating Fruitloops I can lay in the living room under the sheets that flow from the couch to the mantle and drape the ceiling, drinking wine and binge watching Netflix while wearing my favorite shirt of his and his favorite panties of mine... 

Adulting has its perks. 

Happy or nah....

 Today is Cinco de Mayo... another American made holiday to celebrate getting drunk for no real reason. St Paddy's Day being the other one. And of course like a true post college American, I have participated in the d ays' festivities... Drinking since noon and its going on 11 pm currently, so cheers...

Today bothers me most because of a convo Panda Head and I had earlier today. He was bothered by the satirical humor that has been attached to this holiday. How most people just celebrate to make fun of Mexicans. While I totally agreed with him, today has become a horrible way to pick on a minority group, I wasn't as bothered as he was. My rebuttal was St Patrick's Day. People have been using March 17 to pick fun at Irish people for years. 'Wear green or get pinched, Drink beer all day long, kiss a ginger', these are just a few silly things that people swear will give them good luck. So yea the Irish culture has been made a fool of forever, sorry if I don't feel bad for Mexicans today.

So this weekend is my birthday. I forgot how old I was turning because I have celebrated my 21st for the past 3 years. (hahahaha, totally not joking) But I haven't even thought about my birthday. This weekend is Mother's Day and going home to see my Mommie Dearest is the only thing I care about. I miss my Mommie, Truly I do. Her and my sister Alissa are honestly the reason I am still living today.

These two women have given me everything from the last bit of food in their fridge to the shirts out of their closets. My sister Alissa and I haven't always gotten along, actually we never got along growing up. We had nothing in common. She was a house person; I thrived in the yard. She played the saxophone; I played soccer. She was a history buff: I performed in plays. She was in the Honor Society; I skipped class.

There was seriously nothing in us that we shared other than DNA, and even that was questionable.

The older I got the further apart Alissa and I became. I just wanted her to like me. God we argued over everything and I mean everything. One time when I was in middle school my mother left for work. It was near Christmas time and we have gifts to wrap to take with us to my God-mother's house. Mommie asked me to wrap them before she left. So after I did my home work I went to the living room to wrap them. Somehow an argument between Alissa and I transpired and the next thing I know we are fighting about who is going to wrap the presents. Like what the fuck? Hindsight who cares who wrapped them, just get the wrapped before the weekend.

Anyway... Alissa and I started shoving and snatching the roll of paper and she ends up slamming it into my eye. She hit me with a roll of wrapping paper. Needless to say I obtained a paper cut and it busted my eye. I told Mommie the next morning that I had tripped and hit the door handle. I never really wanted her to get into trouble. So I lied. But like any mother. Mommie knew the truth.

I spin this story to show how much we didn't get along. It was an ongoing thing between us. She threw lamps at me. I even got hit with a Calculus book. She slammed it into my head from across the room. I swear she should have played softball, her aim was on point... dear god...

But with all the shyt we went through growing up she was still the person I wanted to like me. All the time I just begged for her approval.

I joined the marching band because I wanted to be closer to her. I hated that shyt, but she was in it so I thought it would bring us closer. It didn't. She hated me for it. I took her shine.

So many differences...

But the point of all this is to say how much I love her. How much she means to me. My sister has been there for me so many times when no one else was. Times when I was too scared to call my Mother, times when my dad broke my heart, times when my bank account didn't exist.

My sister worked so hard to give the greatest senior year. I had all the stupid items and commemorative mug and pictures to hand out. She killed herself to make sure I graduated college. Working newspapers all night and picking up a second job at a gas station during the day to ensure she had extra money to send me.

Alissa has been my lifeline more times than not... and I really have no clue where I would be without her. Mommie and Alissa deserve the world, but all I can do for them is show up for Mother's Day. I have no money, no gifts nothing at all. All I can do is go see them. And only for a few hours...

As horrible as that sounds I am so excited. I can't wait. This weekend is not about me, my birthday quit being about me years ago. This weekend is a chance to see my Mother and Sister... and for that I am thankful.  May is a wonderful month, a chance to tell all the women in the world they mean the world... but Alissa and Donna are true gems among gems... I love them and I owe my life to them.

Free your mind...

And the rest will follow....

Yea right. That might be one of the biggest lies told to us by musicians... EnVogue was so full of shyt.

It is a great song though, super empowering and hell raising and ready to kick ass and energize the world and all that stuff. But those words are not always true.

Freeing your mind is terrifying and opens so many doors that could possibly leave you paralyzed. That or finding out things you really don't want to know at all..

Like what are your limits and boundaries in life. How far will you go to get exactly what you want? Whether it be a person, thing, title, whatever... how far will you go and what will you do?

The mind itself is super tricky, Is it a muscle or an organ or what? If your body dies but your brain is still living are you alive or are you dead? Are your dreams part of you or a detached other world that you imagine? What is imagination anyway, repressed desires or just thoughts that come and go willy nilly in and out of your cerebral cortex? The mind is such a wonderful and complex entity.

My mind scares me sometimes. My dreams don't exist. Doctors say that everyone dreams when they rest, just not everyone remembers their dreams. I don't remember many dreams at all. I do have a few that I have been able to keep near me.

Once when I was young I dreamed that I lived in this huge southern styled plantation with my older sister Alissa, my mother and father. The entire dream was in black and white except for a few little items that were bright red. Brilliant red, blood red, crimson red. Just very very vibrant.

The details of the dream held no real meaning to me because they weren't real. In the dream my parents were still married, my grandmother was kind and loving and accepting and my mother was happy and smiling. None of these things were true in my real life, so like I said the details of the dream were irrelevant. But what stuck with me and still does after all these years of dreaming that dream, was the color scheme. Black white and red. I thought it was the coolest thing in the world.

And it is the only dream that I remember details about.  No clue what that means.

Memory and lack there of is another aspect of the mind that perplexes me. A persons perception on an event could be totally fabricated, but they will swear their soul that it is true... because of trauma their memory blocked something or rearranged the events or just created some bullshit altogether...

Memory and lack there of, sucks. There are so many things that I don't remember. Actual events and details and stories. I cannot remember at all so much in my life. My shrink says its 'because I do not have a working memory'. Not much gets retained as far as specifics and such. Details colors orders of happenings...

I cannot even remember little details about how I met Bae, or my graduation from UNCW or dates that I had just a few weeks ago...

The fact that I could tell a story 5 times and something will always be left out disheartens me. I can't recall all of anything. My own mother used to think I was making it up when I would that I couldn't remember something or anything. After a while she started noticing that I wasn't joking. I really can't recall.

How much does this affect my life? A lot, not as much as it could though. I don't really have much of a life. I work from home, now that I recently started working again, I have a small circle of friends that stay busy with their life, and I am not in school so I don't have to worry about that aspect. So in reality my memory just bothers me, me and Bae. He hates when I repeat a story that I have apparently already told him six times prior. He hates watching portions of shows over because I swore we hadn't seen that episode, and he despises rediscovering the same store every few months. But its all new to me. I have no recollection of it.

We joke that every time we watch a movie that we own (so trust it has been viewed at least twice) that it is the first time every time. Its funny at first, but  I promise you the humor of it wears off. The nostalgia of being super forgetful and always forgetting everything - well that stops being endearing sooner rather than later. Its really not that cute. At all.

I have tired mind exercises, and reading. I love reading. My shrink has given me little tasks to do and I thought that maybe my mind would get better with practice or age, but it hasn't yet. Not worse yet either... just still crappy.

It terrifies me though, I want to remember my wedding day and I want to remember the look on his face when we say I do. I want to remember the little things that make him laugh so when we are old I can still make him smile. I want to always know that chicken parm will forever be his favorite dish so I can cook my way to his heart for years. I want to remember all these things without having him remind me.

I want to remember my daughters' first heart break and my son's first kiss... I want to remember the look on my mothers face when I walked across the stage receiving my college degree. I want to remember how I felt when I held Cameron for the first time and realized I had a reason to live. I want to remember the day that I learned I am nothing without Alissa...

The idea that I won't scares me. My mind scares me. As free as it is, it scares me to death.

walk of shame

I eat my toast with a fork and my scrambled eggs with red pepper flakes. He eats his eggs with his toast like a sandwich. 
I love pippy poppy loud music. He discovers a new artist every week and thrives on the composition and word play that is present. 

We are two totally different people, "opposites attract". This has never been truer than now. It is crazy how you don't realize that until you live with someone. The getting to know them phase is just that a phase, you spend a few months acquainting yourselves with their likes, dislikes, favs and dreams. But when you live with someone you experience everything. The morning breath, the bed head, the 'fresh face' sans make up, the toilet seat that never gets let down or the shoes in the middle of the floor. You seriously cannot hid anything when you live with someone. 

That is a blessing and a curse. The blessing being that you get so close to this person. You experience their fears and nightmares. You are the person that wakes up next to them when they scream out in fright, you are the one that gets to kiss that precious face first thing in the morning. You become that person that makes their life livable. 

The curse is you realize you guys don't really like the same things. At all. From food to music to drinks to movies... nothing at all is the same and the word 'compromise' has a new definition for you. A whole new meaning... 

You begin to wonder what it means to give things up for another person, you begin to wonder what all will be given up on this quest to have a new life together with the person you love. Becoming a couple means there are things that you leave behind. Dreams are not one of them, dreams become something you work for together. Dreams become something that each one of you believe in and support and work hard to achieve. 

But at what cost...  Are you leaving part of you behind... Are you silencing that inner thing you once strove so hard to attain... Are you losing yourself in hopes of finding yourself...

Little topics of discussion become blown out of proportion... you become confused and lost in engagements... you just stop wanting to talk at all, not because you are uneducated on the matter at hand, but because you just don't want to care any more... you just give up. 

They say you pick the battles that matter to you and you chose the ways to win wars... Generals lose sleep finding the perfect plan of attack to come out triumphant... 

I don't want to win a war or a battle or be in a constant tug of war with the one I love but when you are so starkly different what do you do? 

You learn them. 

Inside and out, you learn their ways and their beliefs, you divulge in their passions and step WAY OUT of your personal comfort zone and find out what truly makes them tick. 

You want to be happy, choose happy. Want to be miserable choose misery. Want to be in love, then goddammit be in love. With everything that person offers you. 

Their flaws make up their perfections. Their passions make up their dreams. Their fears make up their courage. 

So what he reads more articles about politics than he eats meals in a day. 
I read none. So during the upcoming elections he can educate me on the best candidate. 

So what I read more books a month than he has been a live. When we have little curly head children I can pass on our passion of learning. 

Everything that separates us brings us that much closer. Our differences will be what builds our future. With time and patience we will figure things out, because at the end of the day that is what love is... 

Love is having patience and taking the time and making things that are silly and irrelevant super important because your better half thinks is should be. 

Its not about being pussy whipped or being under your significant other's control. Its about being so into that person you are willing to give up whatever you have to to make them happy... but at the end of the day not having to give anything up. Because they love you exactly how you are. 

Day 2: Treating this thing like a journal... something I haven't done in a while (at least not consistently). Writing has become a chore or a thing to do, my freedom of expression comes best when I am nor forcing it. But artistically thinking I feel like I must write. 

So when I sit to write I wonder, what should I write???

Started a new job Monday. Well began training for my new job. So far so good, still learning systems and applications and navigation etc. New jobs are stressful... and exciting... transitioning into a new way of working seems entertaining... I have just graduated and now I have a new schedule to get used to. Before it was class class class and night shift CNA work. Then I graduated and was unemployed for 2 months. Then I landed a dream job (as good as call center type jobs can be) and got FIRED from that. So back to unemployment... Seriously this work/life time frame thing gets no easier. 

Being fired... THAT WAS HORRIBLE... I have never been fired for such dumbness... I really thought I was going to lose my mind, still do at times, but I am getting my grounding (or trying to at least). I got fired. I got fired. Saying that and hearing it out loud is weird. Fired. The hardest thing to accept was the reason that was given to me was what made it so hard to accept. I got fired because "my tone lacked empathy and I was unable to relate to the students calling in".  I lack empathy. 

Most wouldn't even really care about this or what it says, because I only worked for this company for a little more than a month. So most people would say that they didn't even know me well enough to judge me. Or that the one call they listened to was being held too harshly against me. Or that maybe they should have taken the time to train me and actually help me do my job rather than just give me the boot. 

I freaked out because I took it SUPER PERSONALLY. They attacked my character, my personality, my definition of me. I took it to heart because Bae worked at this same company and he is excelling in his position. The Head of Operations said she could see me fitting in his department very well and being an asset. So when I got fired I took it personally. I was embarrassed not just for myself, but because I felt like a disappointment to him too. I felt that my actions were a reflection of US and when I didn't make the cut, it was as though I wasn't good enough. Like I was a let down... to him. And that hurt. A lot. 

Here I was first job I had been excited about in a long time, first job post graduation and I get fired because I am not nice enough... ultimately that was the reason. 

Not nice enough...

Well there was a kick straight into my depressive dip that I was already nurturing... Depression. What a crappy feeling and truly shitty title to be dubbed. DEPRESSION. Something one suffers from. Something one barely escapes. Something one tries to overcome. Something one must deal with to live. 

How do you deal with depression? Medication, alcohol, exercise... I was using an age old tactic of avoidance - which was working pretty freaking well if you ask me- but apparently it wasn't really working. At all. 

Mi famila lives over 2 hours away and Mommie-dearest worries all the time.. I am her little one, the youngest child and I am living on my own. She can't take care of me like she would love to so I try to keep my life together and I try my hardest to stay good. 
Bae works until late in the day, so during those wonderful winter days when the sun sets at 4 and so does the depression, I would sit in the corner of my room and hold myself. Attempting to hold myself together, both literally and metaphorically. Rocking in the corner, hugging myself just so I could feel anything. 

One day Bae literally had to help me out of the bed, step by step, walk me through the house holding my hand and force me to shower. I couldn't function. I literally couldn't move. I couldn't even wash my own hair. He had to climb in the shower to wash it for me. 

That is when I realized things couldn't keep up like this. I needed help with just living. Crying all the time, hurting all the time, not even understanding why any of it was happening... 

That is what depression became for me.  And being honest about it is still terrifying.