Far more interested in online browsing/shopping, but this is cheaper alternative for me time.
I'm afraid this will be a rather mundane post, even though there are something interesting things happening at work that will hopefully allow me to move to a full time w/benefits position. Putting that out of my mind, though. I'll still continue to go above and beyond at work, but I don't want to get my hopes up. I may have to, in the end, start applying for other jobs at the university. I really like what I'm doing and it's the variety that I like the most.
The weather has turned cold and with it my sinuses have decided to become a mucus factory. Not pleasant to read, not pleasant to experience. I've spent yesterday and today mostly in bed and didn't leave the house yesterday. Today I really should return some over due movies and in doing so would give me motivation to take a shower and give the dog a bath.
Speaking of animals, on Friday I resisted a very strong urge to put in an application to adopt a kitten. She was about 6 weeks old and her coloring was a wonderful mix of light tan and light grey making her appear almost pink. I'm a sucker for the that coloring. I held her for quite a while, but in the end she went back in with her up for adoption roommates.
My decision to make getting another cat a non-idea was further cemented when I came home to three very hungry pets that demanded not my attention, but my thumbs to assist in their feeding. The three of them are really enough. I've thought that I wouldn't have any more cats after H* and R* are no longer with me, but after holding that kitten, I know it will be hard to resist not having a cat in the house.
Not sure Fisher feels the same way. He reiterated my want of having a dog and goat that are besties. Why not throw in a cat, too.
Who knows and for now, I've got all that I need.
My birthday is around the corner and turning 37 is such an odd thing. A result of arrested development perhaps, but it's a number that doesn't seem to fit. I'm ok with being in my 30's but the idea of being three years for 40 is bizarre.
Tempting to say that I owe your and/or myself a post, but that isn’t true. Posts in the past have been written because I need to write.
It’s been a while.
In Bloomington now, living with Fisher in our wonderful little duplex with a huge backyard. No joke, the back yard is massive. Ok, maybe it seems massive because I’ve lived in apartments since I went to undergrad in ’94. But there’s really no need to walk S* because of the size of the yard and her age.
For 12 she can still go full puppy, especially at 5:3 am when she wants me to wake up and feed her. She plays with Fisher in the backyard, which seems to have good effects on both of them. She’s been a way for him to transition from crappy day at work to being at home. It was the same way for the ex. She’s good that way.
Cats are doing well. R* is 14 and mainly, ok all the time, lies around. He seems content and healthy. His hearing must be going because his meow is getting louder and there was one morning that I had to wake him for his breakfast. He lives and dies by the sound of me opening the tin of cat food. So for him to not hear all of us bumble downstairs was unusual.
H* has caught two mice. There are many gaps between the house and the foundation and Fisher and I were surprised that we don’t have a family of raccoons or possums living in the basement. It is a very scary basement, so maybe they’re turned off by that. The first mouse was dead when I got to it, but unbloody. The second mouse was kinda twitching and wasn’t outside in the paper towel shroud the next morning. Maybe eaten, maybe limped away, maybe both.
My supervisor that hired me has moved on to another department on campus. I really liked working him. He’s laid back and let me be creative. The new guy is more of micromanager. Good motivation to find a job with the university that is full time and therefore has benefits.
Fisher and I are doing fine. He’s been extremely busy at work and that means not seeing so each so much.
Thank god I’m not the same psychotic b*tch I was when we first dated. I don’t call him 30 times in a day in panic/anxiety mode. I do my best to chill and know that he’ll climb into bed next to me at some point.
Well, Holy heck, batman. Three days left in Chicago and on the fourth I leave. Trepidation? Excited? Scared? For 16 years Fisher and I never found a way to make it work. In the early years I was crazy. Bat sh*t, psycho ex-girlfriend crazy. Now after some really great therapy I know what caused it, but it happened any way to the man that I want to love for the rest of my life.
I’m scared that he once he gets to know me that he’ll stop loving me. But that’s kind of a silly thought because he’s seen me at my worse and as of this moment wants to be with me. I don’t think I’ll ever be as psycho as I was when I was in my 20’s. I don’t think my body has the energy for it.
Keeping my fingers crossed regarding unemployment. Things happening that seem to be good. Need to apply to for the Production Manager position for the Theatre and Drama Department. I hate writing cover letters. I would give up a pinky toe if it meant that magically all my now and future cover letters were well written for me. I might even give up both pinky toes. Part of a pinky finger?
Two things left to do for school: My internship packet (5 page paper, transferring hours, etc) and my final in my Special Events class.
I have to make sure that I don’t fall into depression when I move down there. I won’t have a job, but I’ll need to stay busy. Oh, self startery stuff, you are my downfall. The ADHD kinda cancels out the get-up-and-go.
Not sure if this migraine is stress or allergy related. All this same, it hurts.
Oh, and if your reading this, please click on the ads. My computer needs a new ac adaptor and any help would be appreciated.
I do want to start pack the car tomorrow. Get the trunk packed, so I have a head start and an idea of how all my belongs will fit in my soccer mom 4 door sedan.
It’s late and my brain is tired. I’m not sure how articulate I’ll be. But the truth of the matter is that my brain is stuck on some stuff and won’t turn off. So, I turn to blogging to purge the unhealthy thoughts. The unhealthy thoughts that I cannot heal with action.
It absolutely irritates me to know end to listen to my mom talk about my dad. Whatever context, it doesn’t matter; I don’t want to hear her talk about him. She hated him until the moment she found out that he was dead. Living with him was used a threat of punishment when I was a child. She said awful things about him. My dad was no angel and never should have been a parent. He did not possess the ability to be empathetic. He didn’t understand the needs of others.
My ADHD came from both parents. My dyslexia came from my dad. Both of my parents were/are impulsive with little thought about preparing for the future. They did what they wanted to do, with little regard to others. My mom did her best as a single mother, but it was expected that my sister’s and I would do our best, so that she didn’t have to worry about discipline.
Reading a book about ADHD and marriage. Parts have of the book have been very helpful in helping to understand my ADHD. Some isn’t relevant, seeing as how I’m not married. The stories of marriages going south because of one person’s ADHD aren’t very encouraging. Although, it is warning sign as to somewhere I never want to be.
The real question seems to be on how to manage my ADHD, much like a diabetic learns to deal with diabetes and an alcoholic learns how to push down the desire to have a drink. There have to be steps to keep my ADHD in check.
Right now though, I’m feeling under whelmed with my ability to hold a job that has real responsibilities. You know the type of job where I managing others and am expected to remember information and not ask a lot of questions to make it seem like I don’t know what I’m doing.
In the short term I don’t retain information well and I’m terrible with numbers. I haven’t yet started making lists. Lists means things to do, and I’ve always failed at getting stuff done in a timely manner.
I want to rise above my status of lackey. My last few jobs- lackey. I have ideas, I’m creative, and I can communicate with people, but the fuck if I can sell my self to someone in order to get the job that will make me happy. And if I get that job the thought of trying to maintain someone’s trust in me is very overwhelming, anxiety inducing.
Last night I read some of the book, felt good and went to sleep. Tonight is way different. Talked to my mom today and yesterday. That’s too much. She’s using me to talk about stuff that you would talk about with a friend. Unloading on me, when I’m not the right person for her to be talking with. But she doesn’t trust anyone, so I take the bullet. The result: anxiety. I can’t be her be all and end all, I need space. She’s cornered the market on passive aggressive guilt trips and it’s taken a mental toll on me.
Wish I could scream out the frustration. Less than 2 weeks from moving. Less than two weeks to hold my tongue when it comes to talking with my sister. Three classes. One moderate assignment due this Wednesday, one small project due for my evening class and a final in the form of an essay for my evening class in a week and a half. And then pack up the car and go.
Light at the tunnel, if you could get a little brighter, that would help.
Tomorrow will be a really awful day. 10 days ago my boss was shot by her husband and then he turned the gun upon himself. Murder/suicide. Now two amazing young adult are orphans. Two parents lost in tragedy. Having watched my dad die, doesn’t even compare to what they are going thru.
Tomorrow is the service and internment for both parents. It will be a private service, invited guests only. I feel honored to have been asked to be there. Tomorrow the loss of a wonderful boss and mentor will become reality.
I’ll wake up early, shower and pick out black clothes to wear. I’ll grab a bagel, directions to the church and do my best to stay focused on driving. Today, I found myself choking up, I could feel the sadness in my throat. I wanted to sob, but not today. Today I busied myself with work and let the moments of sadness drift out of my mind.
Tomorrow I will sit in a pew and listen to eulogies about a wonderful women who should still be here. So many questions left unanswered. To wonderful young adults with out parents who loved them very much.
Two things I find myself repeating:
Let go and let god.
There for the grace of god, go I.
Not a religious person, not a committed atheist, however these words bring me comfort. They make me appreciate my life, my family, and my love all the more. The unanswered questions, I let leave my mind. I do my best to not wonder about that day, those events that lead to such an awful moment in time.
Love kindly. Love yourself. Know that you deserve happiness.
In the long run tomorrow will bring healing and closure. In the short term, I don’t want it to be reality. I have such a hard time with losing people forever. They shall always be with me in my heart. I will carry their memories with me for as long as my mind will allow. But to never see the smiles, share the laughs, feel the love… that hurts too much.
My boss had incredible inner strength and drive. I can see the same in her kids. In order to survive, they will rely on each other and the qualities instilled upon by their mom. But the truth is that their mom should still be alive, I should still have her as my boss. Life, you are definitely unfair as you have proven time and time again.
Now I remember why I wanted to get out of the Midwest. Allergies and the migraines they cause. I’m dying up here. Constant air pressure changes, a pollen count that is sky high. Living by the ocean, oh how I miss you. Five years ago I switched from glasses to contacts. The only problem I had was that wearing the weekly contacts didn’t allow my eyes to breathe. So, I switched to the daily wear that I could actually wear for a week at a time. The weekly wear contacts made my eyes so blood shot that the guys at work were asking me where I got my weed. No weed, sorry.
The last month has been awful to my eyes. Had to break down and order a pair of glasses. Oh, the shame of it all. My eyes are so dry and irritated from the pollen that putting in contacts was like using sandpaper on my eyes. Yes, that bad.
Migraines everyday. I know it’s all about choices and I chose to stay home today from classes. But it was hard to fight the migraine that made me sick to my stomach. Excuses, excuses.
On the love front- Just about 2 months until I move. I’ll visit the weekend after next. I hope Fisher has time to look at rental houses. We’ll all be stuffed inside his apartment for a little over a month. Please let that go well or I’ll end up homeless after he kicks me out. Two people, two cats and a dog in a small two-bedroom apartment.
And the top piercing of my industrial is not happy. It will calm down, but as soon as I even barely touch it, it’s way not happy. Arg.
For a very long time I’ve given into my anxiety. Avoiding emotions or criticism. Making my life easy by hiding in bed. It’s very difficult to change my behavior. Not just changing the behavior, but changing the way I think about it.
Ok, so one episode of Being Human, the UK version. Then sleep. No solitaire? Shouldn't.
Fisher will be here Thursday evening. I really want to call him by his real name, but I can't do that here. One day, when I die my dearest friend will let all know that this is my blog. Only have I'm dead, dear friend.
Wasn't very productive today. Tomorrow I need to get up earlier than usual to take care of a few things before work. I hate having to do that. Hopefully tomorrow at work I can overlap work and internship work.
Getting better at relaxing. Unfortunately with relaxing seems to be a tag-a-long of procrastination. Hoping for a better future and ignoring the imperfect present.
Remember: Help me fight the evil bank that charges me $12 a month for not having direct deposit by clicking an ad. All you have to do is click and close the window. Thank you.
Twelve weeks of class left. First substantial test next week in my travel class. I think I’ll do fine.
I’m supposed to carry around a calendar to keep all of the stuff/ to do’s in my life organized. Just not there. Tried. Failed.
So, I have slips of paper stuck in my wallet that list appointments. Notes jotted down inside notebooks. And doing my best to remember when I have to what and when.
In a few days I’ll attempt to do my own industrial ear piercing. I had it done almost 10 years ago, but I had to take out for the medical assisting course. Even though that didn’t last that long, I wasn’t able to put it back in. Then I got a job at a chi-chi hotel and the only facial piercing we could have were pierced ears. I can’t even remember if guys were allowed to have pierced ears.
Regardless, now that my hair is long and covers my ears, I want my industrial back. The original was unique- a double industrial. Double industrial, three nose rings on the same side. That’s what happens when a bleeding heart liberals lives in conservative-ville. I strike out and make myself even more different. I’ll see your brown polo shirts and raise you piercings!
In other news, every since by my dad’s mom died in 2006, I’ve been having reoccurring dreams about one of my cousins and his dad’s farm. Six years later I’m still having them.
After Granny died I sent my cousin a letter saying that I felt sad about the fact that the next and no doubt last time I would see him would be our grandmother’s funeral. Our grandmother passed away in December of 2009. I saw him at the funeral he gave me a hug, but with so many people around and it being our grandmother’s funeral there wasn’t a chance to talk.
I spent a lot of time at my uncle’s farm and idolized my cousin. I was four or five and was absolutely in love with him, in that way that a four or five year can be. The highlight of our time together was when he took me for a ride on his dirt bike. I was such a tomboy, climbing trees, hiking in the woods and playing in streams.
We would play doctor, but it was far from sexual. It was more about who could whom more. There was this wooden bird, like a 70’s style woodpecker and we would see how hard we could hit each other with it on knees, like the reflex hammers.
He had a cousin, not related to me, that I had a great time hanging out. We would hide under the pine trees and just hang out. Once again, nothing sexual.
A few days ago I wrote my cousin another letter that said I’d like to spend some time with him at his dad’s farm. Just us, like forest ninjas. I need to make peace with that time in my life. There was so much going on that I was too young to know about. And there was stuff that I was all too aware about and I would escape the world and create my own in those woods. Imaginary friends, hunting dogs as faithful companions, crossing trees that had fallen over ravines.
I need to go back there and make peace.
The problem is that no one else can know about this journey. It especially can’t get back to my mom. I don’t plan on visiting her on this trip. I want to go to my uncle’s farm and spend some time alone at my grandmother’s grave.
There’s more to story about why my mom can’t know I’m visiting my uncle’s farm, but I’m not feeling like getting into all of that.
Thank you to all of you that are clicking on the ads. Damn Chase bank and all others that charge for me lending them my money. We supply them and they take our money with no return. Maybe I should just keep it all in my sock drawer.
So, please, keep clicking. I get charged $12 a month all because my boss doesn’t do direct deposit.
Very sweet present from Fisher for Valentine’s day- two bamboo plants that form a heart. Perfect. Now to not kill it.
Talked through with my therapist about all the panics attacks I’ve been having. I can’t let my boss’s emotional problem be mine. In time she will make a decision to help herself. Right now she is making her choice, just like I chose to stay with the ex after I found out he cheated on me. There was a benefit to staying and I stayed. The benefit was not personal health, but there were benefits.
Getting out of an abusive relationship should be easier. But that decision to leave has to come from within. Inspired by the strength or support of others, we must make decision.
Just like Fisher and smoking. I want him to stop smoking, but he won’t until he decides that he needs to stop. He was sounding positive when I was down there at the new year. I hope he’s still doing well even under the stress of his job.
So, I will be moving back to College Town to be with Fisher. We need to be together to decide where we (together) head next.
Also working on honoring my past, but not living in it. I miss my grandmother a great deal. It kills me that I won’t see her again. My mom’s mom was one the most real people I’ve ever met. Made it through the depression, raised six kids and left an abusive husband. Read books like they were the air she needed to breathe. Funny, but grounded in German up bringing. Frugal, but incredibly generous to others.
I miss her unconditional love. Born again, but accepting of alternate life-styles and me and my sisters living in sin.
She was strong and brave and survived so many hard times. Not materialistic, but she would pick up trinkets and candy dishes at antique stores to give to us. I look forward to getting my belongings out of storage so that I’m surrounded by physical things that remind me of her.
So many fragmented sentences. I am not a writer. A dabbler that enjoys the process of writing and sharing it with others. To have the opportunity to show myself as an individual.
An individual who is thankful for love of family, friends and Fisher.
Pre-Ps. Here's the deal my bank charges me $12 a month because I don't have direct deposit, please help me out and click on the ad. Thank you.
Truth- I am avoiding most of my emotions. This results in panic attacks and me missing one day of work and one class this week. Waking up, I feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t get oxygen, by lungs don’t get air. I am suffocating. And the only thing that makes it better is staying in bed. Under the covers, hold up at base camp.
That’s the metaphor for my life right now. I’m at base camp and there’s this mountain I have to climb. No choice, have to climb mountain. Eventually, I’ll be hauled out against my will and a force will command me to march. I wonder if agreeing to climb, to march will make the journey up the mountain any easier. My choice versus no more time to procrastinate. Yes, it will be worse.
Deadlines will pass, late fees will be charged, and I won’t be prepared for challenges. Now I have time. Not as much time as I had a month ago, but I need to start now. Completing sh*t that needs to be done.
My therapist said that every person with ADHD should have a calendar that never leaves their sight. I’ve tried this. The only time it worked in a way was undergrad and I only used it for my theatre work. For schoolwork, I hoped and occasionally prayed that I wouldn’t forget anything.
Here’s the deal with the calendar, first few days are spent putting in all future stuff of which I’m currently aware. Appointments that have been made, class schedules copied from the syllabus. Maybe within the first week I’ll put in an update. The first time that an event comes and goes that has not been but in the book, all bets are off. Pitch it in the trash, I will not get back on the horse.
Why can’t I recover?
Mental block? Perfection lost? Disappointment in myself that I can’t keep a calendar updated or pick up where I left off.
Lack of wanting to put in the effort. I don’t want to.
I didn’t want to take the speech class that is technically required, so I dropped it because technically I could. I couldn’t play by my rules, so I quit.
It’s not a matter of it being too hard, although that’s sort of why I dropped my Excel class. It is a matter I have no invested personal interest and therefore if I can get away with not doing it then I will.
This behavior caused a riff in my relationship. Instead of Fisher telling me outright that he wanted me to go see the musical he was, he gave me a choice. He asked if I wanted to go.
It was Annie, he had a supporting role, I was involved with theatre for 20 years, I hate sitting in one place for longer than it takes to eat dinner. If I have to watch a show, I’d like to be in the booth away from people and snacking on cookies or main-lining starbursts or better yet peanut m&m’s.
I didn’t go.
He was very disappointed that I did not want to go to the show to support him and show my support for the theatre company that has caused him to sweat blood.
I’m a little jealous of the theatre company he works for. It sucks up all of his time. We don’t get to talk on a regular basis and when we do, it’s when he 3 minutes between rehearsal and a 10 pm finance meeting.
And after graduation in May, I will move to College Town USA to be with him, to put our relationship first and hope to god that he does the same. I don’t want to move to C.T. USA. A month before graduation I was so happy that I would be leaving that state. Middle America is not for me, even bubble of liberalism that was Middle America University. And now I’m going back.
I can’t predict that he will spend less time as the Artistic Director’s whipping boy. And if he does then I’ll ramp up my search for an out of state job (preferably Austin.)
The stress that inhabits my body is my entire body. My shoulders never relax. Not even when I sleep. I’m incapable of taking deep breaths. Falling asleep takes medication. Waking up is a struggle and causes mental pain. I’m constantly subconsciously always stressing about possible and present occurrences that I no control over.
I used to hold onto the stress and anxiety because I thought that if I let it go, then I would float away. Not kidding. I would have nightmares about it. Gravity switched to off, my floating upwards, nothing to grab a hold of and the silo shaped room has a small window on top and I will float out into nothing. These were my nightmares.
The loss of dad and grandmothers, specifically my mom’s mom haunts me. That is now the subject of nightmares. Seeing my Grandma in my dream- “She’s back, she’s here, she’s not dead,” I shout! I turn to tell my family, but when I look back she’s not there, she never was there. I miss her so much and hope with all my heart, even though in my head I know it’s not true, that I will see her again. How can someone disappear from your life, never to be seen again? I have my memories, but they have less substance than fog. I should be comforted by the memories. But the really good ones are from age 7 and under. I don’t remember what her apartment looked like, the first one I remember. She made bread pudding, had two parakeets and we would walk down to the corner 5 and dime. Maybe the toilet had a pull chain or maybe it didn’t, and I’m frustrated that I don’t remember. The parakeets were hung by a window….
If you’ve gotten this far, then you know that I’m stressing about stuff that doesn’t need to be stressed about.
My boyfriend (whom I pined over for 16 years) loves me and in a few short (4) months we will live together.
All things considered I have my health, I at least have a support system that would pay for my health if it got bad.
I have two wonderful awesome sisters that are there when I need them. Who will be beside me for the next catastrophe.
I have an amazing dog, who at the age of 11 and a ½ plays like a puppy.
One cat that loves to snuggle, gives nose kisses and will stand on his back legs to give me a hug when I ask.
Another cat that has been with me for the last 14 years making every empty apartment and new city feel like home.
A mom who shows me why it’s important for me to accept the fact that I need to take anti-depressants. I will be not be stigmatized or ignore my depression. My cat needs insulin to feel good, I need my medications.
Even after all that my shoulders are still up to my ears.
I ask of myself, to know the difference between those things that I can change and those that I can’t. For those that I can’t I will let them go and float out the window at the top of the silo. I will stay grounded with the help of my own volition and the love I receive.