Did I find me?

I feel good. I went home and I came back and that taxi ride home was horrendous but I survived it.

I worked the last three days with minimal drama. I did hate that everyone wanted to know how my “vacation” was. I could only shrug.

Going home is never the same. I love my family but we are so very different. Most of them were on their best behavior and I all but dared a few people to be their terrible selves. The only dig about my weight that my father made was when I hugged him in greeting… he couldn’t resist squeezing a love-handle. But he didn’t say anything and he didn’t make any jabs about any of my meals.

We watched the Rhonda Rousey fight and were glad we did so.

I went out with Miranda and some of the others after work. Not long just enough to detoxic from the week. Today is my Friday. I have the next day and a half off before I have to cover a shift for someone else.

SO… I’m hanging out with a Deep Ellum Double Brown Stout and The Guest. If you like stout beer, Double Brown Stout is a good one. If you like thrillers, The Guest is a good one. If you’re a fan of Dan Stevens, watch it. If you’re a fan of good-looking bad boys, watch it. If you’re a fan of half-naked men, just watch it. I can’t stop watching it. I love it. Also Annie’s Anthonio is my new haunting theme song. In the context of the movie, it’s incredibly creepy. So, I carry a bit of that thrill when I listen to it away from the movie.

I’m trying not to get caught up in the drama at work. It’s hard when people suck you into it.

I need a time capsule to capture these feel-goods so that when I’m not in this happy place, I can remember that it does in fact exist. I need some girl time with Laurel. We’ll make it happen soon enough.

Happy Wednesday

Wednesday at work are notorious for just … well, Murphy’s Law.

Today was bad and I wish I could say it was all work.

I woke up at 4am this morning after having slept since 4pm yesterday. I came home straight from work and went straight to bed. I’m lucky I locked my front door and plugged in my phone. No Facebook, no texts. Nothing.

First thing I saw was that my dear friend Ninjamin’s mother had ceased to be with us yesterday morning. Instantly, I felt bad not not staying up long enough to convey my condolences. I know they understand that people have lives and shit but I always feel like shit. It’s my bag. So, I cried through my shower and then got my shit together. I had to get through work. Then my newsfeed fed this video to me.

It was just what I needed. Laurel St James and Ninjamin would agree. I’ve shared it with everyone at work who geeks over this stuff like I do.

So, while fishing around at work for a ride to the memorial gathering on Friday, I was blindsided for the second day in a row. I do have to back up a few days for this.

Saturday morning, I was the first supervisor in the door. My other supe was late getting in and my assistant manager was also a bit late. Not unusual. Only this morning I had several people asking me where they were supposed to sit as their work stations were being moved. I had no clue this was happening. I had to sit through 45 mins of this before anyone could arrive to tell me what I had missed on my days off.

Monday, I was told, no we aren’t doing that yet. Just as long as it happens by Wednesday. Okay.

Tuesday. 9:35 am, I get Gloria telling me that my assistant manager was looking for me. ODD. Because 1) he’s off on Tuesday, 2) the manager was in the office and he knew where I was (as I had just left his office to return to my post) and 3) my cell phone was on the desk and it hadn’t rung. He rattles off a bunch of information about the phone changeover that is happening at 10am. I look at the clock again. I got 25 minutes notice on a multi-pod change over WITH intent to move the workstations I mentioned earlier. I argue that I can’t move the workstations as we were still going through the rush. And he gave me a band-aid solution that would work.

I get ready. I tell everyone in the workstations affected what was going to happen as I write it down on a post-it in a shorthand that only I can read. I tell my boss. He doesn’t know about most of this. I tell him I’ll handle it but I can’t let anyone in my workstation go to lunch until it’s done. Then IT walks in and his plan is different. I relay what I was told. We make it work. I let him know that I will physically move the people at shift change to prevent the most amount of havoc.

Sigh. Took 30 minutes to make sure everything was changed over as planned. Held me up from my main job for 30 minutes. Keep dispatchers from taking their lunches for 30 minutes.

Then the dispatchers who had to change their stations tell me they’re ready to move because they’ve had a lull in calls. I give up. I tell them to one at a time log out, then log in at the new station then call the old station to notify they were ready for the next person. It takes 20 minutes. I supervise.

Sigh.

So, today. Today. 9:40am. I get a call hold that my assistant manager, who is not at work today, has more things for me to do. More things that my manager doesn’t know about. This is after our training coordinator, a woman on the edge of a meltdown at all times, has come crying to me that she doesn’t know what’s going on and that she needs me to teach her how to dispatch out of the new system. She’s been our training coordinator for six months. Six months. She’s training our people how to dispatch but doesn’t know how to dispatch out of our new system. So when the asst mod calls with instructions for change over at 10am… I’m livid. I storm around connecting phones and finding there are no cords for handsets and no cords for the junctions. I find my manager and I let him have it.

Now, to be fair, the asst mod asked if he should come in. I told him no. I didn’t want to see him. I could, in theory, handle the change over. But, I got dispatchers crying they were getting calls for the training class. Now, while true, the training class wasn’t in the station to take those calls and they were calls that were supposed to be taken. I let them have it. When my manager heard all my frustrations, he asked if he should call the asst mod in. I said no, I could handle it. THEN, I remembered I was doing lunch checkouts and I couldn’t do it if I was babysitting phones for a change over. So, he called in the asst mod and I told my Manager that I was going back to the floor and to do my job and if I saw the asst mod, I would punch him in the face. He said that was fine.

I managed to get through the next hour and a half without any contact with the asst mod while I did my job, taking calls, checking in and out and sitting for lunches were needed. Then he tried to talk to me. I couldn’t. I gave him my legit complaints unrelated the phone thing and I began a discussion with my immediate podmate about the above video. That seemed to get him out of the room. He knows he’s in deep shit. Manager and Onboarding manager and I all had a discussion about the situation. I’m fine helping with these things… when I have proper notice. We’re short on dispatchers and it’s a short day as far as supervisors go. There’s 3 of us on a Wednesday. If one of us has to take a lunch to get the other’s lunch, we’re super short. It also happened to be a day when Miranda had a family emergency so she had to take her phone outside several times. So, I was running the floor. We had worked out our dynamic early in the day to account for Miranda’s family needs and Gloria’s blood sugar needs. Had I the information about the changeover in a proper timeframe, we could have managed it differently.

THEN, I had to find with Miranda about shift change. We’re under a no overtime mandate. Our folks have to leave at the appointed time and the new crew has to be logged in. I was yelling at the dispatcher to get up to let the next crew in and Miranda is yelling at me that they still had work to do. This was also true. Here’s the thing. When a company has shift change, there are things you can and cannot do.

EX: If you’re at Walmart and your cashier is leaving shift, she cannot start ringing up a customer and leave. She has to finish her exchange and then pull her drawer. The next person can then put his drawer in and take the next customer. The first cashier does not have to take the entire line.

Similarly if you work at Whataburger, if you take a person’s order, you do have to complete the transaction BUT you do not have to be the one to hand the customer their meal. That CAN be the next shift person.

So, I’m saying that we have two people who have to vacate, a third who has to stay and two people to take the empty chairs. If the calls are entered, our folks CAN get up. It’s bad form but if the boss says leave, you leave. The next folks will have to complete the calls.

I was checking out with my boss when Miranda came in and started bitching to our manager. I’d already run him down on the situation and so I was within my rights to do what I did. She continued to bitch so long, I missed my ride. Then as I was leaving, she had the gall to be sweet and thank me for my assistance… like I’m her assistant. I’m her fucking superior. By a week, but still.

I found another ride home, thankfully. I’ve had my identity stolen so I’m in the process of changing my everything. The ride was important so I could cash my check and pay my rent and my sister’s car insurance. Luckily, I had old magazines and a pair of too small jeans. I gave all for a ride to get my stuff done. Fuckin’ ruins your day.

Silver lining: I have my ride to the memorial, I get to spend time with my Denton Mommy before the gathering. We’re going drinking tomorrow night. AND I get to watch the above video over and over until I’m not mad or sad and can sleep.

Fuck work. Fuck overtime. I’m sleeping in tomorrow morning.

Tangled are the webs

So, I’m doing better than I was. I guess you can say I’m skewing up to a higher plane.

I’m still rather isolated from my usual crew. I’m building a new one, I guess… but half of those folks, I can’t really trust the way I would like.

I’ve come on some rather unsettling intel recently.

I’m not really a person to play games. If I say it, I mean it. I really do. So, I’ve hit my limit on people visiting my intentions.

I’m not out to get people fired. I’m not condemning people committing acts that I know nothing about. I’m not saying a thing to a person’s face and another behind their back. It’s just not my bag.

If I don’t like you, you won’t know it because I’m a nice person. If I despise you, you’ll know it by a distinct lack of my presence. If I like you, I’ll show it. If I love you, you’re in my heart even if you don’t care.

This conversation I had, I only remember pieces, the juiciest bits because I was on a cocktail of benadryl and alcohol. I may shade my own words but I’ve never put so much shadow that they’re unintelligible to people who know me. Still, I’ve found myself burdened with other people’s thoughts on my actions or inactions. I am cursed with my own vision of myself as it clashes with others visions of me.

I don’t have a lot of friends and I don’t spend a lot of time with the ones I have. I’ve never allowed a friend to stay in a bad situation if I could help it but we all know there are situations that you cannot insert yourself into. Other people’s marriages, for example, are none of my business. None. I have very strict views on the sanctity of marriage. Your marriage is not my business. Your husband is yours. Your wife is yours. I will not come between that. If you divorce or separate, that’s your business. It has nothing to do with me.

I’m not naive. People treat each other horribly everyday. I’m guilty myself. One thing I will never do, is involve myself with a married man. Will not do it. I absolutely detest movies that glorify cheating. I cannot abide it. You do with your life what you will but keep me out of it.

Manipulating people you hardly know to enhance your own life is shitty. Ex: I have a friend. She’s married to a man who is friends with some of my friends. The case of which that we know her through her husband. They have a child together. I am closest to the child out of the three of them. I’ve just spent more time with him that anyone else in that family. I have no clue what goes on in their marriage. I am aware of some circumstances as it came to be it interfered with my job but that’s the extent of it. I cannot take sides on a thing that I’m not knowledgeable of. After the event, it became whispered that there was an affair, an assault and maligning. All these things had nothing to do with me. I cannot take sides on a thing I was not a part of. Apparently, I have been blamed for a multitude of these things.

I’m so filled with rage that my name was invoked in any of it. I had nothing to do with it. I was background noise at the most.

I hate being judged for things that aren’t true. I don’t take up for wife-beaters. I don’t have affairs with dispatchers. I don’t try to make people fail at their relationships or jobs.

I make mistakes. I make plenty of thing. I’m in the middle of a mistake right now. You know what it doesn’t involve? My friends or my work. When I fuck up, I try to minimize the damage. It’s lonely but unless I’m sure what I’m doing, I don’t involve other people.

On a brighter note, the same conversation is forcing me to look at how I look at myself differently.

I’ve always been accused of stealing boyfriends. Strangest phenomena for someone who has trouble making eye contact with people in general. Once, I cheated. Once. I felt like shit. I cheated on a cheater because, at a wise 19, I thought it would make me feel better. It didn’t. So, I don’t cheat. I won’t participate in other people cheating.

I’ve always been heavy. I’m currently at my heaviest that I have ever been. I have never seen myself as the person who gets the guy. I was the DUFF before I know what that was. I’ve always seen myself that way. I have always been the smart one in the group. Always. One of my friends pointed out to me that I seem like a highly sexual person, just in the way that I carry myself. I’ve been told that I can be intimidating. I’ve been told I come off shy. So that kind of threw me. She said that what blows her out of the water about me is that I look so self-possessed and somehow don’t know it and it’s very alluring.

I don’t know if it’s enough to change my thought patterns but it’s shaken them up a bit. Enough that I’ve been locked in my house for 28 hours straight and spent most of those asleep.

I don’t know how I’m going to go to work and face those assholes who think they know me and clearly don’t. I don’t know how I’m going to get a word to my friends who aren’t speaking to me in order to clear up this confusion… if that’s even what it’s about.

It’s 5am and I haven’t slept and I may just spent the day watching Marilyn Monroe movies to get me out of my own head for a bit.

It’s May!!!

It’s been another long while. The never-ending roller-coaster keeps me inside my head too much.

I celebrated my birthday very nearly on my birthday for the first time in forever. At least I didn’t spend it alone. I got some friends from works, as they were the only ones interested, and we went out for a few hours to imbibe and eat and chatter and it was good. I enjoyed myself. I didn’t let myself get melancholy.

The ensuing weeks have been more down than up. I find myself finding reasons to go into work because I compartmentalize very well at work. I am a professional and I don’t drag my personal stuff there. So, in an effort to not deal with my personal stuff, I’ve taken to working six days a week and staying later at work… only…

Only about two days before my birthday, Miranda came back to work in our office. She was not invited to my birthday celebration as that was reserved for people I wanted to be around. She immediately started in on Gloria. She’s attempted to dig in at me but I haven’t let her. I’ve taken the approach as I’ve won before she starts so that she can’t cut too deep. It seems to be working but we get constantly punished for things that are not work related. If I go for drinks with Gloria, Miranda demands to know why she wasn’t invited. Not from me, from Gloria. She got snippy with everyone when she found out my birthday was a night out and she wasn’t invited. We went for drinks Wednesday night, just Miranda, myself, “Felix” who is a relatively new supervisor, Miranda’s kid and sister and one of her friends. It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t special, it was $1.50 nachos and $4.50 margarita pitchers at Taco Cabana. It was specifically to detox from Miranda’s reign of terror… so NO, she wasn’t invited.

I do feel bad that she feels left out, however, given her behavior on a daily basis… I can’t bring myself to want to spend a single moment that I don’t get paid to with her. That’s the long and short of it. You can’t choose your colleagues most of the time. You can make the best of it and I’m cordial and I try to deflate the dispatcher’s efforts to be jerks to her. But that ends the second I clock out. I got enough shit in my life to allow her into my time off the clock.

Work is fine. I love my job. I love doing my job. She creates an inconvenience when she starts in on wanting to be “in on things” that don’t have to do with work. Maybe she’s lonely but I understood that she’s got friends of her own. A family of her own.

I don’t have friends these days. I don’t know where they went. I got Gloria, my senior supervisor, Plato, our asst manager, Felix, our new supervisor who’s doing weird things so I’m on the fence about him, and “Andrea” our on-boarding manager. I never hang out with any of them alone. We always go out in some combination that makes me feel safe (they are not privy to my agoraphobia as it pertains to my day to day) and we don’t usually get to talking about anything but work until the drink has set in. Occasionally some dispatchers come out but it’s not anything that is life changing.

My day to day is pain, low-level pain pills, herbal mood stabilizers and sleep. That’s it. I’m not happy. I’m depressed much of the time. I’m not dating. I just want to make it through the day without collapsing into a thousand pieces. When I’m not at work, all I feel is total and utter exhaustion. I never leave my apartment without a purpose. I have all my food delivered to me unless it’s something I can’t seem to do without. Thank Texas Tea for getting me out of the house every other day to get my fix of Peach Tea or Pecos Cantaloupe White Tea. Takes me a week to throw the garbage and I never leave without my headphones. The quiet of the real world makes my skin crawl.

I have no desire to find out why my friends aren’t speaking to me. I have no desire to talk to my family. I bury my waking hours in work or mindless TV binging. I’ll even sleep 14 hours a day if it gets my brain to stop for a day. I don’t want to write. I don’t want to go to the movies. There’s an Avengers movie out that I want to watch but I can’t drum up the energy to arrange a ride there.

In between those days of just mind-numbing sadness. I get these singular days full of energy. Maybe once a week. Random days. I always think that I’m better. I push past my limits and then pay for it for days afterward with more exhaustion.

I have renewed my efforts to get my moods under control. Try not to read too much into anything anyone is doing around me. It’s the only way I can keep my sanity. I do feel like there’s a spiral unlike any that I’ve had before just around any bend… for all I know, I’m already on it. Keeping out of the bottle unless it’s social. Hell, I’m not even using OTC painkillers today even though I probably should cause I’ve been able to feel each and every vertebrae screaming since I woke up six hours ago.

Maybe I will get off the porch today. Maybe I will find a way to enjoy some of my life. Or maybe I’m going to log off the internet for half an hour and dissolve into tears that do not have a name. I want to be happy, not sure how to get at it without a magic wand.

Maybe I’ll just fix the vacuum cleaner and get my house in order.

Happy New Year

So, I’m a month late. Sorry.

Life has been… pretty damn shitty.

I’ve been unable to share myself fully with anyone in my life because I don’t want to burden anyone with my shit. There’s too much. It’s overwhelming and I couldn’t deal with it myself.

So, as I feel more capable. Today’s the day. 2015 has finally started for me.

I have some plans. I’ve unmade plans. The gist is this:

I have to get my heath together.

I recently had my third miscarriage less than two weeks ago and the acknowledgement of that, finally allowed some doctors to make an elimination list to diagnose my stomach issues. I have four conditions that will take changes in my life to maintain. So, I have calcium build up in my kidneys. I have an internal hemorrhoid. I have a very small ulcer. I have swelling in my gall bladder.

I am physically capable of carrying children in the future but if I don’t start planning for them now, I may never have them. As I don’t have a partner, I don’t have a plan.

These are the things I know. These are the things I can plan for and around.

I don’t have a car. I might get a raise in the next month. I can work more hours if I so choose. I have more options for rides than I did a month ago.

These are my tools.

I have made some new friends at work. I just have to remember that I am me and I do not have to party as hard as those youngsters and I do have to, I think, make it clear where the boundaries are as I can almost feel some set-ups starting to happen.

There is my socialization.

I’ve chosen, very poorly, for myself in recent years, men that are not into me for who I am but rather who they see when they look at me.

What does that mean?

It means that the last fellow and I started to fall apart the moment we got together because when we met, I was in a dirty sweatshirt, hair pulled back, no makeup and busted glasses. And then he was surprised to find that was my standard gear. That I don’t really own makeup and I don’t have “dress up” clothes and I know more about Marvel than he does.

It’s all really weird to me that guys always say they don’t like girls who play games or pretend to be something they are not but will not take a girl at face value if she strays in someway that was not they are used in girls who play games. Confused? I am.

I’m tired. My body is tired. I want to take long walks but our local cops have yet to catch the rapist terrorizing our fine city. I want to be social but only in my house. I want to have friends, but I sometimes have fears about ulterior motives. I love my new buddy but he’s young and into crazy and not convinced he won’t hit on me. I will always have my new third party with him and she drinks too hard for me but I shall moderate both her and myself. Cause I also broke my phone and I have to throw some money at a new one.

How can I be too nerdy, not nerdy enough, perfectly in love with myself, yet constantly underdressed? I going to continue to be me. I will brush my hair when I damn feel like it. I will wear a dress when I damn feel like it. I will read comics just as much or little that I like.

My Goals: Watch my diet. Continue with the low caffeine thing, get more fiber in my diet, increase water intake.

Baby steps.

Start a savings, work more overtime. Car shop relentlessly.

Baby steps.

I’ve already requested 3 people, not all of the ones that I should but… Baby steps.

2014 had a bit of hang time but I feel like I can finally start 2015.

Regrets

It’s hard not to have regrets. You can’t be the person you are without being the person you were.

Everything that has ever happened to you contributes to the person you are and will be.

I wish, a lot of times, that I had not spoken when I did, had not spoken what I did when I did… and it’s part of the neurotic melodrama that plays in my head hours, days, weeks, months afterward.

Sometimes you dial a number you know you shouldn’t, then you get trapped in a moment where you’re forced to either have the conversation you didn’t really want to have or hang up and be mortified.

Sometimes, you act out. You go home with a guy because you’re lonely and he’s there and it’s okay. Then you think… why did I do that? I never do that. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Nothing’s wrong. You take a chance. You have a moment. You either live with it or dwell on it or forget all about it.

Then weeks later, you’re doing math. Was it 4 weeks ago? Six? Seven? You start thinking about it all over again.

It starts a spiral unless you nip it in the bud. I’m trying not to spiral.

I did it. I was okay with it. I’m still kind of okay with it. I’m not particularly interested in track the dude down. I’m just… wondering. Been to the ER, had my follow up phone calls and I’m okay. I’m fine… fine-ish.

It’s been a rough couple of weeks. I think I managed it okay. I’ve talked to a couple of people here and there, people I see daily… more as a reminder that I have people around me who would be watching if something was wrong that I can’t see because I get stuck in my head.

You get ideas in your head about yourself. Having some of them confirmed is not always so reassuring. It’s one thing to think a thing but to have it scientifically confirmed is sometimes worse.

I’m fine. I will be fine.

I’m writing. I have ideas.

I’m working. I’m putting together teams that work.

I have a list of things that I need to fix at home, on my car. I’m getting them done one at a time because I haven’t worked much overtime because if it’s not one thing, it’s another that has me in bed, cursing my uterus, my esophagus, my numb leg or my bad back.

I’m hanging in there. I don’t know how thick this thread is. I don’t know how much pressure it can take.

The people that I NEED to talk to, I can’t see to bring myself to call. I’m letting the agoraphobia win the big things but not the small things. Forcing myself to do things outside of my comfort zone when the risk is acceptable. Making that my routine so that I can step outside it in bigger steps later.

I miss my buddy. Haven’t spoken to him in nearly a month. Everyone has to tell me that they ran into him here or there and then they wait. My answer is always the same. Haven’t seen him since his last day.

I miss my Laurel. I’m spewing randomness into her text feeds but not saying the things I need to say. I think she knows that and that I’ll say something when I can.

I miss my mom. Don’t know what she’d say about any of the messes I’ve made for myself in recent years.

I love my new place. I love my job. I love my friends. There could be more. There just isn’t. I don’t have the emotional room even if it presented itself. I’m not fond of other people’s honest opinions unless they match my own right now.

Maybe once I get my car going, I can get some girls together for a fun night out or something to get out of my own head.

So Torn.

It’s been a spectacularly crappy week.

I can’t. Even. No.

I’ve been all over the place. Mood swings, falling over shit. I fell today actually. My good foot lost traction and my bad foot can’t compensate and down I went. I had a trash bag in each hand so I couldn’t even break my own fall. That fear I had of walking around my complex and falling down and no one being able to help me… Happened. On the plus side. NO ONE SAW ME. That was mainly because we had a tornado or some tornado-like behavior and all maintenance folk were busy covering the windows of the folk who lost their windows in last night’s hail.

I’m one of those people. I was on my way home from work, much later than usual. I texted my other half Laurel St. James and she informed me of the impending tornado near to my house… and I got this message as I was in bumper to bumper traffic on a bridge over water. I prayed and drove while I tried to find that local emergency station. I managed to circumvent the storm. My home did not. North-side windows at my complex are all a variety of shattered and broken.

I have the worst bitch from Hell as one of my new managers. She’s crazy and I’m going to walk out someday soon. I love my regular managers but that’s just how bad this woman is and really I only see her two days a week unless I go in on an off day. I’m not sure I”m recovered enough from my previous job to handle a person this unhinged.

I’ve been planning to post for a while but… Life. I’ve tried dating a few guys but it’s all blah. We get to date three and discover there’s a significant spiritual incompatibility and it’s just too much. I seem to attract “Good Christian Folk” because I guess I “look” like one of their kind. I don’t have anything against those folk. Devout people are admirable. I’m just not one of them. I watched my family’s spirituality swirl down the toilet as my parents fought about whose religion we were all going to follow. I believe in God. Everything else is just unknowable and unquantifiable. I just… can’t profess to believe in things that I don’t feel are true enough that I would wage a holy war over it. I’m just trying to be a good person. THat’s all that anyone can really try to be. If you need a devout person to share your life with, churches hold single’s nights. That’s where your girl is. Not here. Not me.

Are you spinning yet? That’s only about a quarter of what’s going on in my brain.

I keep getting baby stuff in the mail. I think I briefly researched some stuff when Laurel St. James was pregnant… and I think someone who used to live in this apartment is currently throwing baby showers (I got an invitation to a stranger’s shower). It freaks me out a bit. I have a bunch of stuff in my car that I’m going to take over to her if I can ever make it over. It makes my head spin. Clocks ticking. My neurotic tendencies telling me that having babies is a bad idea. I lost my necklace for a bit yesterday. I freaked out about it all day long. I’m not a person who freaks out. I’m not a person who would stay home from work to look for a piece of jewelry. Most people at work could tell I was stressed but not that I was on the edge. That kid would be nearly 5 this year. That thought freaks me out.

I’m also ovulating. Makes all the moods that much moodier. Also, a lot of guys who are normally on the no-list look pretty appealing. Just let me go shoot myself before I end up with another Sir Douchecanoe of Douchenshire. I’m going to blindfold myself, put my phone in a drawer and avoid speaking to men at all costs. Just for a while.

I have to move. I can’t afford my apartment. I can’t find a roommate who isn’t crazy. I looked around at prices. They all want more money than I’m already spending for less space than I have now. I have less than 30 days to give my notice if I’m going to re-lease or vacate at the end of the summer. My options don’t look good unless I magically get a higher paying job and/or get some asshole to marry me. I recognize that at this point in my life, it will take an asshole to put up with me.

So, on a regular day, I’m thinking about the above. On a regular day, I can handle it. This week? Nope. Can’t handle it. Won’t handle it. Don’t want it. Please, make it stop.

Scroogey McScroogeface

Merry Christmas.

 That’s about all the Christmas cheer I can muster.

At least I decorated this year. Maybe I just did it last week.

I’m not feeling it. I haven’t felt it in a long time. I’m dreading the day. I know it’s okay. I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be with people. I have the day off work. I feel bad for not feeling it.

I haven’t been feeling much of anything that isn’t hunger, pain or anxiety or incredible sadness.

I haven’t posted in a while because I’ve been busy. And sick. Right before Thanksgiving I got sick. Everything I ate made me sick one way or another. I started looking for a doctor but after the last doctor I saw for non-back related problem, I’m skittish. My current predicament has brought that last one to the fore… over and over again. It’s dragging back into the pits of depression.

I cry at the drop of hat. I’m starting to cry right now. For a microsecond I had a thought about the child I almost had and never really wanted and bam! Tears. I’m an extremely patient person and I’m really good with kids. I just don’t want any myself. That may change. I don’t really have long to change my mind but I decided a long time ago that I didn’t want kids if I didn’t have someone to share them with.

It’s just one of the many things that makes me feel other and abnormal. I was getting good at not feeling that way anymore. Since I’ve been sick, I have been taking my supplements in a reliable way and I haven’t really been able to take anything for pain so my moods have been all over the place. I rationalize my mood. I allow it pass through and know that it will but it just keeps coming.

I’m going to actually get to a doctor as soon as I can figure out my plan. If there’s not a solution in that, I don’t know what else to do.

I’m going to spend Christmas with my second family. I’m going to miss my family. I’ll spend New Years at home because I don’t have the energy to go out and do something. I spent last New Years a blubbery mess. I spent the New Year’s before that pissed off at the people I couldn’t find. The year before that I was with a roommate. The year before that I spent it waiting for people to call and show up who never did so I clung to the worst boyfriend that I have ever had. None of it was good.

I’m not feeling the cheer and goodwill but I know. I KNOW. I just know there’s going to be a change soon. I can feel that. Good or bad, it’s going to happen and I will make it work. That’s what I do. I make things work.

Days off

Yet another day off and yet another day of not wanting to move or do anything that could be considered productive. I am in significant pain today… and for the last few days. Lumbar pain, cyatica, migraines and yet I hae felt more like myself than I have in over a year.

I’ll do anything to keep it this way.

I just finished reading 2001: A Space Odyssey for the first time. I’ve never seen the move. It wasn’t what I thought it would be but I can see the fingerprints it left over everything else I love. And I did catch the John Carter reference and I reveled in it. I love to read. I never stopped but I forgot how to enjoy it. I feel like maybe I should reread some books in the last couple of years to give them a new chance with my newly revived brain.

Today, I’ll try not to aggravate my aching bones so much. I’ll try not to convince myself that I have West Nile. I’ll try to be in the moment with the things I am doing. Maybe I’ll call my father this evening and catch up and not feel like I’m putting on a show for him. When I say I’m okay, I’ll really mean it.

I find myself thinking of my relationship with my father a lot these days. It’s not as close as it could be. When Mom was alive, she was the buffer and the link. Without her, all of us just kind of spun away from each other and he’s drawing us back. He doesn’t really know how and unfortunately for him, the woman he married has set forth a barrier that none of us are willing to cross, even for our father’s sake. I, personally, will treat no woman like a queen unless she’s shown she deserves it. Kindness, generosity and patience. The woman has shown her husband’s children none and express we should treat her as if she raised us. We were all grown and moved away when they married.

Dad wasn’t around much. My parents had a happy marriage but as a welder, you get more money for away gigs than you do from sticking around the home base. Four children meant he spent most of his time making sure he could feed and clothe us and pay for my mother’s medical bills. I remember the holidays. He saved his sick leave for times when we would all be together.

I remember holiday spent at barbecues and family gatherings with Dad supervising the wild antics of kids tumbling everywhere. I remember quiet afternoons learning to play poker and 21. Some of my favorites are not even things I can remember. I have pictures of Dad reading to me, indulging my toothless carpet antics. I hear the stories from my older sister who was 7 when I came into the world. I remember New Year’s Eve with Twilight Zone marathons. My Barbies were always outfitted with cardboard mansions and a blue ’57 Chevy. My She-Ra collection an indulgence because he didn’t like me playing with brother’s He-Man toys.

These days we chat about the weather, whichever desert he’s working in, what I put up with at work… my physical health. We don’t talk about his wife or, by silent agreement, my love life. He’ll fill me on in whatever he’d gleaned about my brother… because my sister-in-law hates my stepmother a whole of a lot more than I do. Sometimes he’ll tell me about  a movie she made him watch. Sometimes, I’m amused like the time she got him to watch Lars and the Real Girl. Or when he told me about the time he took a picture with a drag queen at the New York Pride Parade (my father is homophobic and I’m really surprised he didn’t punch anyone).

I teach him Lauren’s name because he keeps calling her Logan. He really thought, in hindsight, she was a boy and I have no clue why. She’s very clearly a woman and spent my entire surgery with him last year.

My father has given me a lot. My work ethic. My kindness. My generosity. My love of westerns and sci-fi (though mine now delves deeper than his ever did). My love of reading. My pragmatism. My romanticism. My coloring. My complexion. My love of the desert. My impatience with felines. My obsession with making sure the tops of my bread align in my sandwich. My inability to drink any liquid during the meal. My respect for anyone who wears a uniform.

The man has his flaws. He’s only learning how to speak to us. He has a temper and it has come out in inopportune times. I get my cutting remarks from that fire. His utter bafflement of dating (I share this. He really has no clue how much my mother ran that show). It took him a long time to realize that his children are not him.

I live far away from my family as it’s necessary for my sanity. When I’m in the midst of all of them, I feel like I’m drowning. Far away, I can breathe and I can be me and I can love them for who they are. I love the time we have when we’re together. Board games and movies while we catch up, work on whatever family function and give each other our time. Time is really all we have to give our loved ones. Time together, time to be ourselves and let everyone be themselves. I can be annoyed all I want at my siblings choices but those choices are what make them who they are and who I love.

I miss my family but really, we all are where we need to be in order to be who we want to be.

And so, with memories, love and support… I shall continue to be a nervous wreck until such time that I can convince myself that I am exactly who I need to be.

Looking for focus

I’m supposed to go to the laundromat today because all my other options became non-options. I keep thinking about the panic attack I’m going to have when there are too many people or just the one person who tries to talk to me. Truth is… the panic attack is not going to happen. I will be calm and collected and I may escape to the bathroom a few times and then I’ll rush to get out of there so I won’t fold anything and when I get home, I’ll bawl my eyes out because holding it together was entirely too stressful. I’ll go to bed without putting anything away, I’ll wake up exhausted and have to go through two more days of work before I can just sit at home and hide under a blanket for the entire day.

That’s right. My fear of outside is based on a fear of what MIGHT happen.

I’m aware that it is irrational. I am aware that I should probably be on medication for this or at least be under the care of a professional but I just don’t want to.

I keep looking around for anything to focus on but I just can’t find anything. My leasing off was closed before I got home so I can’t report the things I need fixed. I just keep eyeing the laundry detergent on the table and reminding myself that I need, REALLY need, to get this shit down. But I can’t move. I can’t.

Tried to read but my mind wandered off.

Tried to call my friends on the phone but no one is picking up. Lil Sis is on her way to work. Big Sis is with her kids at the circus. Best bud hasn’t returned my neurotic texts in nearly a week and I think she’s mad at me but I logically know she’s not, she’s just got shit to do. I’m so tired of staring at the fucking laundry detergent.

I have a few hours yet to get my shit together and get outside where the people are. I should probably stop by the drug emporium and pick up some kava kava and get my act together properf

And now I feel really, really tired.