Never Really Been Loved by a Hand That Touched Me

It's about two hours before the New Year here.  I am sitting home alone in bed drinking a glass of cola.

Exciting eh?

Lately I've had a lot on my mind about my single status. 

I turned fourty eight a week ago.  I think my last relationship was about 6ish years ago.  It ended badly.  He lied and cheated.  It has taken me a long time to get past it.

Maybe I'm not past it.

The lyrics of a Matchbox 20 song, Push, roll around in my head.

"And I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that touched me,

And I feel like something's gonna give,

And I'm a little bit angry."

Looking back on all the past years I don't think I have ever really been loved.  I have been told that I was loved but I've never felt it.

I have never had a man care about my well being or my feelings or even bent over backwards to do something nice for me.

I've been married twice and have never had a romantic proposal.  One was where he tossed the ring on the table and the other came home drunk and just said "let's get married".  

What the hell?

I've been taken advantage of, cheated on, left, used and just treated like a non-person.

I'm angry about it.

I am a good person with a big heart.  

However, the heart is very guarded.  My eyes well up with tears as I type this because it is so sad to realize the truth.

Sometimes I wonder why no one asks me out to dinner or a movie.  Or when they ask me out, it seems that they have a hidden agenda.  I sense sexual over tones in messages and turn them down.

I'm an empath, its what I do.

All this time, I never followed my senses.  I thought that if someone got to know me, they would love me.  They would want my love.

It never happened that way.

So here I sit alone again.

Birthday Blog

In a few hours I was born 48 years ago.

I struggle a bit with this birthday for some reason.  I'm not turning 50 or 60.  I wasn't angry when I turned 40.  For some odd reason, I hate the fact that I will be 48.

Mom has been gone for over 4 years now.  Her telling the story of my birth resonates in my mind.  We used to get drunk on red wine and she would tell the tale of being in labor, wanting that last cigarette four times, making my dad drive all over looking at lights, the doctor being MIA and the nuns putting her to sleep.

I popped out 48 minutes after midnight.

I am almost positive that if the events didn't happen, my birthday would be today.

I think the main reason that this birthday upsets me is the fact every day when I walk into work, there is a countdown to Christmas.  This countdown also is to my birthday.  This countdown reminds me of the days to when my mom isn't here to tell the story of my birth.

Jesus may have his story told over and over.

I miss mine.

A Total Miscarriage of Justice

I never in a million years expected something so horrible could happen to my family.

This blog has been written and deleted and rewritten again because I wasn't too sure I wanted to share or if I wanted to keep it to myself.

So I guess sharing won.

To give some history....

I was married once to a guy and we had a kid.  We bought a house.  We had problems and divorce.  The kids and I moved out.  (My son was from a previous nightmare relationship.)  

Fast forward ten years....

My kids and I were living in a small apartment and the neighbors were giving the police lots of business.  I approached my ex since he bought a new house and our old house was sitting vacant for two years. I offered to buy it from him on land contract.  

We saw a lawyer but never finalized things.

My dumb ass moved us in anyway, trusting this man to follow through with finalizing everything.

Fourteen months go by.....14!

His new girlfriend doesn't like the idea of any of this,

She gets herself involved.  She gets him to sign a power of attorney.

She files for eviction.

SHE. FILES.

Not him

This eviction goes to court and then is dismissed on a technical issue.

I agreed to be moved out by December 15th.  

I agreed!!!!  

A second eviction was filed by her six days after the first eviction was dismissed.

SIX DAYS!!!

Even after I said I was moving out.

Second eviction was filed by her without him even knowing she did it.

SERIOUSLY!!!

My ex said he was going to get the second eviction dismissed.  He told me this in person.  He said this in front of his daughter.  He said he was going to call me the next day. 

He never called so I called him..... six times.

He never answered.

I get a phone call from the chief of our local police department telling me to stop harassing my ex and that I am not allowed to call him again.

SERIOUSLY!!!

So I put together an answer to the complaint and went to court today.  The judge asked if I had anything in writing regarding the land contract, the agreements of my move out date, the dismissal.....

Of course my trusting dumb ass never thought about getting anything in writing.

And then the judge said that I had plenty of time to make arrangements to move out with my ex.  When I explained that there was no way to contact my ex since I get a trespassing ticket if I knock on his door (the girlfriend's doing) and I can't call him, the judge said that he is finding in favor of the eviction.

I was stunned.

I have a signed lease with my new place and can't move in until December 1st. 

The judge didn't care.

I mentioned that my daughter's father is making her homeless.

The judge didn't care. 

My daughter's father just allowed her to become homeless.

This man didn't even have the balls to come to court.  He gave his shitty girlfriend power of attorney over my property.  He hasn't even been with this twat for a whole year.

I came home to a sobbing child and I can't make this better.

I tried calling the ex's mother to try to get her to have him call me.  I explained what happened and how upset my daughter is and as that woman was hanging up, I heard her laughing.

The grandmother was laughing.

WTF!


We have about three days before the sheriff comes to remove us.  We will not have any access to any of our property that is left here.

I cannot believe how quickly this whole mess went wrong.  I keep thinking that this is a nightmare and that it isn't happening.

It is right before the holidays.

How does a father allow this to happen?  What kind of grandmother laughs at her granddaughter's sorrow?  What kind of family does this?

WTF!!!

I am thankful for my family and all of their support.  Even if they are hundreds of miles away, they are here for me.

I am thankful for my friends for the offers of help.  Many have offered to store our belongings and take in our animals until our new place is ready.  I am also thankful for those who have offered us a place to sleep for the next two weeks.

Even in this awful time, I am thankful for those who care.

I've Never Met An Evil Atheist

My title in no way is intended to offend anyone.

I never judge anyone on their religion.  I never talk about my beliefs, however, I am a non believer.

With that being said....

Let's get on with what I really want to write about.

The last four weeks have been trying to say the least.  I cannot discuss what is really going on for the interwebs have eyes and I have someone who isn't very nice and is more than likely to use whatever against me.

However, I will discuss something that irks me.

There are Christians whom I have encounters who claim to be Christian but they seem to be the most awful, evil people out there.  They are openly judgmental and rude. They don't care who they hurt or how they present themselves.

But these people are Christians.  They hang pictures of Jesus in the home.  They tote bibles around with them.  They go to church every Sunday.

Blah blah blah....

I call bullshit on their fake ass facade.

Perhaps they do all these things in order to seek atonement for their sins.  They seek out forgiveness for the harm and hurt they cause others.

I refuse to go to church because I cannot sit among hypocrites.

I am sure there will be someone reading this who will say that all the bad things that have happened to me or will happen to me is because I am an atheist.

Nope.

The bad things that have happened to me usually stem from some Christian who cannot seem to follow God's word.

I refuse to believe in some higher power just to justify someone's idea of how to be a good person.

I am good and kind.  I empathize with others.  I know right from wrong.

I don't need religion to be that person.

This entry stems from my severe anger involving a current issue.  I am in no way claiming that all Christians are hypocrites and I am in no way claiming that Atheists are stellar citizens either.

I just wish we all just stop hurting each other.

Write Like No One is Reading

I wish I could write like I used to.  It was so easy to put my thoughts out there.  It always helped to clear my head.  Hell, I have blogged for years.  I used to blog on MySpace.  (Remember MySpace?)

Now, since I've received a few anonymous letters in the mail dissing me because of what I write, I tend to second guess everything.  I friggin hate that.

So, I am just going to type away and see where this goes.

It is going to be a pain in the ass though because I am blogging on an iPad.

Today I spent time trying to be distracted.  I have a court hearing tomorrow for something totally bullshit.  This is something I won't type about until it's over because sometimes shit can go south and if it does, I'm going to need to vent.

I also have a lot going on in my head.

Lately ive been feeling stuck.  I am tired of living the way I live.  I'm lonely.  I'm tired. I'm frustrated. I'm confused.

Why is life so difficult?

I thought I deserved better. I work hard. I studied hard. I love hard. I care about people.

None of it seems to matter.

How do other people do it?

I have goals and dreams.  How in the hell do I achieve them?

I guess this will need more thought.

My depression hasn't been too horrible.  I've been trying to do all the right things like eating right, sleeping right, doing my hobby, yadda yadda.  So there's that.

I'm hoping tomorrow goes well and then I'll go from there.

The Note

I received an anonymous note through the mail yesterday.

It was poorly written and if it was meant to intimidate me, it failed.

As I have written about before in Anonymity is the Voice of Cowards, when someone chooses to remain anonymous they are cowards.  They cannot just come out and voice their opinions.

This was the third anonymous letter I have received by way of mail.  It is also the third one on file with the local police.

People are insane these days.

If this person expects to change my behavior by way of a note, they are sadly mistaken.  

There are details in the note that only point to one person who may have sent it.  I will not call them out.  It is sad that they are so focused on what I am doing or not doing that they cannot seem to find anything else to direct their energy on.

So again, whoever took the time to type up this little note isn't really anonymous at all.  They are a heartless, petty, ugly, horrible person.

They suck at anonymity.

I know exactly who they are.

Questioning Karma

Have you ever said "Karma will get them"?

Lately I have been wondering who I wronged so much that I am going through such rough times.

I've been dealing with work and personal issues for the last month or so.  My strength is being tested.

I am so close to saying "fuck it" and just disappear.

This is not how I expected my life to be.  I constantly wonder if I will ever be truly happy.  Will I ever be stress free?  Will my  depression eventually win and I will just end?

The recent events are due to my ex husband and his girlfriend.  I can't talk about the details because I can see this ending up in court.

What I can talk about is just how I am handling it.  

I just don't feel safe;  not in my home, not at work, not anywhere.

Today they showed up after being told to stay the hell away until the court system decides who has the rights regarding the house.

I called 911 and it took the police over 5 minutes to arrive.  What if they broke in and hurt me?  What if they set the house on fire?

People do some crazy shit these days.

I am trying to stay strong but all I want to do is just disappear.

So I am left wondering what the hell did I do that was so awful to deserve all of this.  

I have never felt so alone in my feelings until now.

Just Love Her

Just love her...

She will open your world.  She will help you see things in a whole new way.  She will make you laugh at the most inopportune times.              

Just love her...

She will strip you naked and kiss every inch of your skin.  She will make you feel new feels.  She will look at you and you will just know, you are hers.

Just love her...

She will open a universe of stars for you to see.  She will make you think.  She will frustrate the hell out of you.  She will challenge you.

Just love her...

She will watch you sleep.  She will inhale your breath.  She will wake you at 3 am just because she craves your taste.    

Just love her...

She will make you feel as if you are the only person she sees.  She will smile a smile that is only for you.  She will only hear your voice.

Just love her...

She will give you a bond that is stronger than for better or worse.  She will care for your hurts.  She will understand your sorrow.

Just love her...

She will let you feel her from the inside.  She will bring you to new heights.  She will look at you as if you were the only person see has ever seen.

Just love her...

She will love you.

Night Ramblings

It is my most favorite time of the day.

Night

I surround myself in darkness and turn off all the noise (except for my laptop of course).  I can hear the wind in the trees and the soft chirp of the crickets or frogs or whatever it is.

Night

It has always given me comfort.

As a small child I would stay up to all hours to listen to the sound of night.  To coat myself with the darkness, I almost always felt invisible.

I was never ever afraid of the dark.  I would welcome it.

Sometimes I wander outside to look at the stars and greet the moon.  I would wait to see of I could find a shooting star.  I sometimes talk the dark trying to sort out my thoughts and feelings.

My mom would often tell stories of my little feet on the floor at all hours of the night.  I would go from one window to the other trying to see what the night had offered.  

As a teenager I would drive to the big lake and watch the night over the water.  The moonlight would dance across the soft waves, giving me comfort.

Night

When the storms came at night, I would sit on our front porch with my mom.  The air just before the storm would almost be electric.  We would sit in silence and watch the lightening and hear the thunder.  It could be almost as late as 3 am but it didn't matter.

I guess night was always my most favorite part of the day.

Mark of Courage

A few weeks ago I have one scary moment of irrational thinking.  I was battling my depression and it damn near won.

Suicidal thoughts filled my head and I found myself in the bathroom looking for something to cut myself.

I wrote about that episode here:  The Face of Depression

I was hurting so very much and just was losing the strength to fight it.  I sent messages to those I love telling them that I loved them.  I was ready to give up.

For years I have battled the depression.  I've sought help.  I take medication.  I try to find my zen.  There was just a moment where I was just ready to let go of all that pain.

But I didn't.

The incident still lingers in the background.  I think about just how close I came to ending it.

I sought out something to remind me that I can't give up.  I looked for something to put in place that would stop me from harming myself again.

All it takes is one brief moment to commit suicide.

I started looking at tattoos.  I wanted to place it in a spot where I would see it and remember that my story isn't over.

I found a tattoo idea that I was drawn to.  A butterfly in blue, something that started off not so pretty but continued to live to bloom into something beautiful.

The semicolon body is to remind me that my story is not over.  An author uses a semicolon to not end a sentence but to continue on.

If you want to read about it, click here:  Project Semicolon

I have the tattoo placed on my left forearm, just above my wrist.  It is big enough to catch my attention at any time.  

Is is a reminder that I too will continue to bloom into something beautiful and that my story is never over.

I am the butterfly.

Like an Emotional Freight Train

It's coming again.

I can feel it.

Just of to the side and just out of view.

An emotional freight train.........

It has been a few weeks since my episode of unclear thinking.

I've made some effort to recognize the signs of the oncoming freight train of irrational thoughts.  There is always a threat of irrational thoughts with me.  It is just how I am.

I've built up a support system of friends and I won't be afraid to reach out if I need to.  I don't ever want to get that close to the edge again.

Sometimes I wonder how anyone could ever love me for how I am.

I mean, it isn't that I am a horrible person.  I don't pull wings off of flies to watch them suffer or anything.

I mean I do have these episodes of where I am not completely myself.

It is weird.

The thoughts are coming again.

Today I found myself staring in the mirror.  I felt hatred.  

I hate how I look.  That face staring back at me wasn't what I was used to seeing.

I don't know.

It is hard to explain the struggle sometimes.  It isn't a black and white type of thing.

I was thinking of past episodes from years ago when I used to self harm.  I never cut myself or anything like that.  It was different.  I really don't want to share it.  

It is strange to say that (type it) since I share just about everything here.

I am glad that I don't do it anymore though.

Today was just an angry day.

Angry with myself for just failing at things.  This in turn caused the emotional freight train to depart brain station.

I am going on another ride soon.

Obviously....

She loves you, ya know.

Can't you feel it when she kisses you?

She will never tell you though.

Can you see it in her eyes when she looks at you?

She will never share it with you.

Can you feel her heart beating faster when you take her in your arms?

She can never let her feelings slip out.

She sometimes watches you sleep, breathing your breath.  She lays on your chest just willing you to understand.

She shares your laughter.

She frees her time.

She loves you, ya know.

She keeps it to herself.

She was hurt once...

Badly...

She sometimes wishes she could tell you.  That part she keeps hidden.  

She treasures your smile, the one you show her.  She listens to your voice, it calms her.  She looks at your hands as they hold hers.

The taste of you, the smell of you, the sight of you....

Feels like home.

She loves you, ya know.

Obviously 

But she will never tell you.

Aftermath

It has been a few days since I had my horrible episode of depression.  I wrote about it here: The Face of Depression

Since writing that entry, I have received several messages from people I didn't expect.  It was nice to hear that I am not alone and that I am truly cared for.  

I didn't write it for attention or for any sincere comments.  I wrote it for others to understand that they do not suffer alone.  I wrote it for those who thought what they were feeling was unusual or weird.  I also wrote it for those who do not understand what it is like to suffer with depression.

I received a call from someone close to me.  They thought that I shouldn't have written it and/or shared it with anyone.  

This was upsetting.

It took some courage to express what I was feeling.  It also helped me out of the black hole.

If what I write saves one person from jumping off the cliff, then I think that it was the right thing to do.

I am feeling a little better as of this writing.  It takes time to heal.

I did call my doctor.  These feelings of self harm have been strong.  We have come to the conclusion that because of being taken off my birth control, it has caused some serious hormonal imbalances.  

The last episode of insanity happened about this same time last month.

No joke.

I damn near lost someone who means the world to me just because my brain decided to malfunction and my voice of reason took a vacation.

I didn't write about it.  I didn't talk about it.  But it happened.  

I am thankful for their understanding and forgiveness.  A true friend is a very valuable treasure.

My doctor and I have decided to monitor my imbalance with no change in medication.  If we don't allow the hormones to find a way to chill on their own, we may need to address it again.

For now, I have a support system in place.  My system includes carrying the suicide hotline number with me at all times.

For now, I have survived another battle but still continue to fight the war.

Suicide Prevention Hotline

800-273-8255

The Face of Depression

My face is the face of depression.

Tonight it is at an all time maximum.  I don't know how to ask for help.  I do not know how to control it.

It consumes me.

Just when I think I'll be ok, I have sunk even lower before.

I stood in the bathroom for some time trying so hard to compose myself.  I was fighting the urge to cut my wrists.  I caught the pill bottle out of the corner of my eye, held it in my hand for a moment.  I opened the lid and dumped the contents in my hand.  The pills felt like pebbles as I stood there crying.  For one brief moment I considered popping them in my mouth but I dropped them into the toilet and flushed.

I cried harder.

How do I ask for help?  At this hour?  Who do I call?  Where do I turn?

I feel so alone in this.

I came back to bed and decided to write.  Writing seems to help.  I hesitated because I am sure there will be someone out there reading this who will think that this is all for attention.  

If it is you, you can kiss my ass.

My face is a face of depression.  There are many more like mine out there.  

We are not alone.  There are millions of faces just like mine.

We can be good liars.  We will tell you we are ok when we are breaking inside.  We will tell you we are fine when we are certainly not.  We will smile, joke, laugh; hell, some of us are downright funny.  But we are dying inside.

We mostly suffer in silence.

We believe that we are unlovable.  We believe we are overweight, ugly and damned.  We believe that we aren't worthy of being happy.  We believe that we will be rejected by anyone we reach out to.

Why would someone love us, we are just a hideous mess?

Depression isn't something we can just "get over".  We just can't take a walk or soak up some sun.  It doesn't work that way.

It is so difficult to explain how depression feels.  It is way more complicated that just being sad.  It is more than just crying.  It is more than just feeling empty and numb.

Depression is a liar.  I know this and I am sure that others like me know it as well.  Sometimes the lies become our believable truth.

Tonight was a small victory, the pills were flushed.  There are many others out there who lost their battle.  It saddens me that we do suffer alone when there are so many of us.

My face is a face of depression.

Above photo was taken right after I flushed the pills.

Suicide Prevention Hotline

800-273-8255

I'm Tired

I'm tired.  Not just a sleepy kind of tired.

I'm tired of feeling lost and disconnected.  I try to find some sort of direction but often find myself in circles.

I'm tired of living this mundane life with the same day over and over again.  I keep thinking that it will change but it never ever does.

I'm tired of being alone and feeling lonely.  I have so much to give but there seems to be no one who wants to receive.  There isn't anyone to talk to and it seems that my dog is the only one happy to see me at the end of the day.

I'm tired of the struggle of being on my own.  I have no one to to share the heavy load of running a home.  

I'm tired of fighting depression.  Every day seems to big a huge struggle to get out of bed and put on a fake face that hides the demons that haunt me.

I'm tired of giving it my all only to be shot down time after time.  My accomplishments are never recognized and the only time I hear anything is when I am failing.

I'm tired of crying.

I'm tired of feeling like I want to curl up into a tight ball hoping that I just disappear.

I'm tired of trying to be strong.  The knot between my shoulders grows tighter every single day.

I'm tired of just being me.  Sometimes the thought creeps in. the very thought of ending everything.

I'm tired of being afraid to reach out for help.  Help can be expensive.  Have you ever had to pay for therapy?

I'm tired of shit just going all kinds of wrong.

I'm just so tired.

Late Night Ramblings

I caught myself thinking of a quote that was said about me years ago.  This quote was said on a forum that I once belonged to by someone I never expected it from.

Most of the time I don't see myself as anyone special.  I don't think of myself as having some "gift" that exudes a sort of outward beauty towards others.

There are times where I feel like I am the most ugly person on the planet.  I also do not think I am worthy of such a quote that was said so long ago.

Someone who used the name "webgirrly" was describing me to others.  She wrote something that I have held on to forever.  It has been buried in my draft emails.

"Julie will make you fall in love with her at the most inopportune of times.  Stick with the urging, though, and you will find a place to accommodate it."

She didn't want to like me.  I think there were times that I annoyed the hell out of her.  But in the end, she loved me.

I have no idea why I had been thinking of what she had said about me.

Maybe because some how my self esteem just needed a boost.

I struggle constantly with trying to find my purpose and also why I am alone.

Many times I am asked why I am still single.

How in the hell would I know?

Maybe in this crazy world of interwebs and social networking we are afraid to allow ourselves to love or fall in love.

I wish I had answers to the question.

It is too bad that we are afraid to love one another.

Love should be shouted.  Love should be felt.  Love should not be pushed aside.

And yet, we fail at loving one another.

I sometimes wish I could tell someone that I love them.

I have no idea where I was going with this entry.  I think that remembering what was said about me just stirred up some feelings.

Perhaps I am just rambling.

My Brain is Driving Me Crazy

These last few days I have been having a depression flare up.  I hate that.  I brace myself for it and just hang on until it passes.

Sometimes the weather triggers it and then sometimes the hormones go all whack-a-doo.

Sometimes my kids demand more from me than I want to give.

Sometimes it isn't anything at all.

This time it is a little different.

My brain won't shut up.

I guess we can call it the voices in my head and we can all chuckle about it....but it really isn't' funny.

I miss my therapist for things like this.

I find myself thinking that there has to be more to my life than just this.  Work, sleep, work, sleep....minimal fun time, minimal relax time.  I want an adventure.  I want to do something bold.  I want more to my life than just this.

I read some where that when you find yourself thinking this way that you should make the change.  

Yes, but that shit is scary.

I also find myself in a mental struggle in wanting to tell someone how I feel but I am afraid of the reaction.  I am afraid of rejection.  I am mostly afraid of getting hurt....again.

That shit is scary too.

I look in the mirror and wonder how anyone could want to be with me.  I feel ugly.  I look tired.  I also have the hidden crazy inside too.

ugh....

I struggle with work.  I like what I do and I work hard at it.  I am scared that I am not doing the right thing or that I will piss someone off.  I also am afraid that I just might tell off a customer who really deserves it.  Some of my coworkers also need a reality slap to the head.

People are assholes.

Even worse, they don't care that they are assholes.

I have a big trip coming up on behalf of the company.  I am honored to be chosen to represent the store and have the opportunity to feel like a bigger part of the picture.  Travel always gives me anxiety.  I fear getting lost or missing a flight.  I fear I won't find a ride to where I need to stay.  I fear I will forget to pack something that I really need.  I am always afraid that I won't have enough money.

Stupid, eh?

Maybe it is the fears that are driving me nuts.

But then again, the brain eggs on the fears.

My brain tells me that I don't deserve a great relationship.  It tells me that I deserve this mundane life. It also tells me that I will miss my flight.  

Oh there are so many other things it tells me but I would be here for months typing it all out.

I read all sorts of self help crap.

Ask for what you want.  See it, do it.  A successful trip is well planned.  Fear is nothing but an illusion.  blah blah blah

I know, I'm making excuses.  I need to work through all this crap in my head.

I am stronger than the voices.  (haha)

I've rambled on enough about it.

Besides, my brain is tired.

Hand Me Downs

As a child I remember the hand me downs.  I always received clothes from my older cousins.  Getting a new bag of old clothes was always fun for me.  I loved my cousins' sense of style. (Even though I think my aunts had all the doing in it.)

We weren't poor but we weren't rich either.

I think my parents saved money this way.  Geico wasn't around to switch to back in the late 70's.

These days I think my daughter would have a major melt down at the very thought of wearing hand me downs.  She will not even go to Goodwill for Pete's sake.  

I try to explain that second hand jeans are the best when they are already broke in.  She doesn't buy it.

(Can't wait till that kid gets a job.)

What got me thinking about hand me downs didn't even have to do with clothes.

I am typing this blog on a hand me down (over) laptop.  My daughter never used it.

NEVER

Do you know what her father had paid for this thing?

Anyway...

My other laptop, which was a hand me down (over) from my son, completely died.

There was no fanfare, no sparks, no blue screen of death.  It just stopped taking a charge.  No matter what new charger I bought for it, it just decided to die.

My children didn't only hand me down (over) computers....oh no.

I also have an iPad mini that my daughter never used.

Crazy eh?

These kids are strange.

Maybe they get it from me....

who knows.

But I like hand me downs.

never mind.... I'm not making sense.

I keep referring to my kids handing me "over" because they aren't really handing stuff down to me.  I am older after all. 

But they are taller than me...but I digress.

The real blessing in using the hand me down (over) electronics is that I can spend my money on other things.  Like groceries, bills and gas to get to work.

Maybe someday my kids will change their minds when they have kids of their own.

An Open Message to Mike

You know....I loved you once.

Once upon a time long ago.  Back when I trusted everything you said. 

I believed that you had loved me too. I loved you deeply and completely.  I opened myself up to you.  I never loved anyone else as much as I did you. Honestly, I didn't see myself with any other man, ever.  I looked forward to a future with you.  

You were my one and only.

Then you left.

Not just once, but twice.

Broken heart each fucking time.

I used to be a very forgiving person.  I used to trust too.  I used to be a lot of things.

Lots of past tense words, eh?

I am not that person any more.

You text me now.  You say you miss "talking" to me.

Texting isn't talking.

The fact is, I don't miss you.  I don't miss your sweet words.  I don't miss your fine talk.  I don't miss our private little jokes.  I don't miss any more of your sugar coated bull shit.


I deserve much better.

At first I couldn't figure out why, after all these years, did you choose to miss me all of a sudden.  I was baffled as to why you would poke at my heart again with an email.  

Then it dawned on me and I did some digging.  

I think you forgot how cleverly, smart I am.

I see that she's divorcing you.

Like a Babbling Brook

I've been staring at this blank page for awhile.

I want to write. (I need to write.)  Words just escape me.

I guess I will just type and hope that it makes sense.

Things aren't right with me.  They haven't been for some time.  I know something is up but can't put my finger quite on it.

I tend to blame my depression.  (That dirty bastard)  But it isn't just the depression.

Stress had been a big cause.

I have a lot of it and it has been hard to deal with.

Being single and not having anyone to take some of the burden away doesn't help.

Being single and being a mom doesn't help.

Being a good worker and trying to be perfect doesn't help.

All of the burdens fall on my shoulders.  My back is getting that huge fist like knot in the upper middle and my head aches all of the time.  The brain doesn't shut up.  Sleeping pills aren't working.  My health is deteriorating.  My eye even exploded the other day.  (Sounds more dramatic than it really was but the blood vessels in my eye popped)

My doctor doesn't like the fact that my blood pressure is super high and has been for quite some time.  And she tells me to make dietary changes, lose some more weight (duh) and relax.

RELAX!!!!!

(hahahahahaha....excuse me while I wipe a tear)

How in the hell am I supposed to relax?

She suggested yoga.....in my spare time.......

yup, that's going to work well

I wish I could afford a vacation.

I go in on Tuesday to find out just how serious the stress has damaged my body.  I worry about that now.

I get several tips like:

Take a bath (I loathe baths....LOATHE them)
Take a walk (I limp like a gimpy bastard and it hurts)
Take a nap (Hello, sleeping pills don't help me sleep)
Pet the cat (He's a grumpy mother f**ker)
Paint or color (pft...I painted to whole damn kitchen.....twice)
Go for a ride (um, gas ain't 99 cents anymore)

Yeah yeah....I'm full of excuses.  

But seriously, all of the above and even some tips I haven't even mentioned are only temporary distractions from the more serious stresses.  

These stresses seem so colossal that they will never fully subside.

I can only keep hoping that something gives and I find some relief from everything that is worrisome. I also hope to find a way to get some zen.

(sorry about the long babble...sometimes just writing helps)

Crab Nuggets in Aisle 4

Typically, most days, I love what I do.

I mean for like 18 out of 24 hours a day, I love what I do.

That's pretty good I think.

I hear a lot of people pissing and moaning that they hate their jobs.  Hate is a pretty strong word, right?

I suppose you get where I am going with this.

But there are just some times where I'm driving and it's quiet and my head wanders and I am talking to myself and, and....and.....

I come up with things like:

"I'm fairly smart and creative, why can't I just start my own business?"

or

"There's got to be more to my life than just this."

I guess I tend to wish that I could figure out how to do something I love and get paid for it to the point where it just doesn't feel like work.

People have been just down right crabby lately.  Customers, co-workers, bosses.....you name it, they are CRABBY.

To the point where I can't stand to be around any of them.

It is hard for a person who has depression to keep her shit in check with all of the negativity flying around.  

If I could run a business from home and do what I love without dodging crab nuggets all freaking day long, that would be just great.

Maybe I just need a vacation....or a margarita......or both.

sigh

Single Like Sliced Cheese

Love lasts for but a moment like a ripple on a small, solitary puddle.

I fell in love not just once, but twice.  Both times left me scarred and broken.  The second, I have yet to heal from.  The first has chosen to resurface but I am numb.  I choose not to respond.

I was married twice but didn't love once.  A sad fact.  Perhaps I had hoped but love to come  Hard to say, it was a long time ago.

Love is difficult, love is blind.  Love is a fickle bitch.

I am reminded of my failures by the candy coated bullshit that graces store shelves.  Reminding us that the day of love is just around the corner.  I want to scream and pull the pink and red from the aisles, tossing it to the floor, where my heart once laid.

Perhaps I am bitter.  Love failed me.  Love was hidden in lies and promises.  I no longer trust love.

I am single like sliced cheese.

Am I Important?

I had a rough day.  Just some bullshit at work, the kind of bullshit that caused me to second guess my decision to do what I do.  I hate that feeling and it is hard to shake it.

But that isn't the reason for this post...

After my day, I came home to eat, log into Facebook and to chill on the couch.  I saw a post by a friend...

"Why am I important to you? Make that your status. See what you get."

I answered her post, copied it and posted it as my own status.

Then I got to thinking, "Why should we have to ask that?"

Why don't we ever tell someone why they are important to them?  Why not share it without being prompted?

Life is rough and even rougher for some.  Why not just say "Hey, you matter to me and my life is better for having you in it."

Wouldn't that be awesome if we just did that?

With all of the negativity in the world today, it would be nice to just hear something positive.

And hey...

You are important to me, because without you, I would not be sharing my thoughts with anyone.  Thank you for reading.