I Hate My Reflection

 

I saw my reflection the other day and didn't recognize myself.  A tired, sad face stared back.  

My happiness was not that long ago.

But that was just a fleeting moment it seems...

My weight has ballooned and my smile has dimmed.

I carry so much depression these days.

Sometimes I am just not strong enough to battle the demons in my head.  

I eat my depression.  The more I am depressed, the more I try to shut it up with food or drink until I am numb inside.

I recognize my triggers but sometimes I can't avoid them. (damn it)

When someone I live with makes negative comments about my weight, intelligence, capabilities, life choices, spending habits, and anything else he feels like commenting on, I start to see myself as not worthy of anything.

I feel so small and unlovable... insignificant.

Lately, I have been keeping to myself.  I don't want to be around anyone.  Secretly thinking that they will see me as I feel.  They might judge me.  Whoever "they" are in my mind, "they" are affecting me in a negative way.

Trying to explain how I feel is so hard.  I bottle it inside, put on a brave face, pretend to the world that I am fine.

Taking control of my thoughts and recognizing my triggers is such an exhausting task.  Its takes all of my energy to not crumble into pieces.

I tell myself.....

I cannot control other people's opinion of me but I can control how I react to it.

I cannot make anyone love me how I think I should be loved but I can control the boundaries I allow them to cross.  

I cannot live how anyone thinks I should live but I can control my life.  

When others try to bring you down, they are unhappy with themselves.

I will allow myself to be happy with who I am.

oh and.... I joined weight watchers.

The Spark is Gone

This post may be quite lengthy as I am starting to write it in April.  I have said in the past that I need to write to clear my head.  I have had some hard thoughts travel through it for the past few weeks and I would like to get them down before I forget what I want to say.

It is getting close to the end of April.  I accepted a new job offer last week.  It is really hard not to say anything as I won't be leaving my current postilion until the end of May.  

A job I once loved is now something I just loathe.  It fills me with sadness and I wish I could just get the message out there without seeming bitter.  I hope this doesn't come out like that.

My love for Walmart started around 1984 when my grandparents came back from their annual winter excursion to the south.  My grandma told the story of how they came across this wonderful store called Walmart.  The people were so friendly and the prices were just amazing.  Every year after that, grandma would come back and I would ask about her trips to the fabulous Walmart.

Fast forward to 1993...

I was in my senior year of college.  I was married and my husband often pressured me to leave school as it was not bringing in any income.  I tell people I left because I ran out of money and patience.  This was sooo not true.  If I had finished, money wouldn't have been a problem but I digress.

I decided to apply at the open interview session for the new Walmart store in our area.  I had sat with an assistant manager, answered the questions and then went for a drug test.  I waited for what seemed like forever.  I didn't think he liked me.  I wasn't going to be hired.  I wanted to work for the store that my grandma had praised time and again.  I wanted that adventure.

Then I got the call.

They wanted me for a second interview.  I went in and just nailed it.  I believe I was told right then that I was hired as a cashier.

It wouldn't be a glamorous job but I was in the door.

We walked into an empty building.  I worked in receiving, checking in merchandise.  Every day, the store started looking like it was raring to go.  We got training.  We learned the famous cheer.  By the time opening day came, we were ready.

I did everything that was asked of me.  I received raises and then a promotion.  I loved the people, the customers.  I was good at what I did.  I was proud to be a Walmart associate.

Sadly, my first time with Walmart ended after about two years.  I made some poor choices.  An assistant manager and I moved in together.  We had a baby.  This was against Walmart's policy and I understood and resigned.

I still loved Walmart though.  My son's father was still an assistant manager.  We moved where the company sent him.  

After about two years, the relationship fizzled.  

To make a long story short, since this as nothing to do with Walmart, let's fast forward.

I had been working as a legal secretary for the Manitowoc Company for seven years.  The job had become stale.  I needed to break free of the cubicle.  I was depressed and my therapist suggested change.

One day I wrote every single job I had ever had down.  This was quite a list.  I circled my top three favorite jobs, two restaurants and Walmart.  So, I went and applied.

Not more than two weeks later I had an interview.  I sat with the sporting goods department manager, then the zone supervisor and then the assistant manager.  I was called in again.  They offered me the job.

Mind you, it was a part time, sales associate position but I was back.  I was only going to make $8 something an hour.  At the time, it wasn't about the money or the hours.  It was about pushing myself to succeed.  It was about working hard.  It was about overcoming challenges and climbing the ladder.

I remembered from my first go around that Walmart was based on Sam Walton's values.  I often remembered his quotes and they inspired me.  (Going forward, Sam's quotes with be noted and my response will follow.)

"Appreciate everything your associates do for the business."

Walmart used to treat its associates well.  It encouraged input and recognized when an associate needed the company to stand with them.  Walmart used to care about work/life balance.  Walmart encouraged promoting from within.  Walmart rewarded for hard work with merit raises and seemed to treat everyone fair.

Currently, I believe that Walmart has turned completely around on this basic principle.  My brother-in-law was with Walmart for 23 years.  23 years!!!!  He started as a part time lawn and garden associate and worked his way to co-manager.  He moved his family to where ever the company needed him.  He gave up holidays, birthdays and other functions for the company.  He was rewarded with termination due to position elimination.  He had the option to move but they had just bought a house and finally the family came first.  

My job was eliminated as well.  I went from working 4 ten hour day with three days off to working 4 am to 1 pm.  I hate it.  I hate every part of it.  I did it for the company.  I thought that if I did whatever needed to be done, I would do it and be rewarded.  

As of this writing, I have gone pretty much as far as I could go.  I took an assessment to determine if I could promote to the next level and didn't pass.  This was the second time that this had happened.  I was supposed to have a manager sit with me but he kept leaving the room.  My store manager never said anything other than "I didn't know you were taking the test." and this was after I had told her.  I felt unimportant.  I felt like a complete failure.  It had become extremely difficult to put on a face and not be depressed or hostile.  My son had a valid point, I was not the failure, my management team failed me. 

When I inquired about the assessment, I was told to get with my HR person.  When I asked, she blew me off and said that she couldn't help me.

I wanted out.

"The key to success is to get out into the store and listen to what the associates have to say"

"Oh the big wigs are coming, we need to watch out.  We need to get our shit together."  This is a generalization as to what is said when management learns that a visit is happening.  It feels as if the wrath of God will happened and we will all go to hell.  When in fact, this should be an opportunity for us to talk to them.  Walk with them and be proud of what we do.  When they come, they never talk to us little people  They never listen to our challenges.  I used to talk to our market manager but I stopped once I got the feeling that I was just a hired hand.  

"The way management treats associates is exactly how the associates treat the customers"

I used to think our management team was good and decent.  I generally enjoyed working with all of them until I saw things that caused me concern.  When I was going through a horrible time, I got really sick.  I had a bad case of the flu and was on my way to the doctor.  My phone rang and it was an assistant manager telling me that I called in on one of the busiest days of the year.  I couldn't help it.  I also didn't need the guilt trip.  It was no way to treat someone.  

I also know that some associates are favorites and some are not.  It is hard to watch.

I also hear complaints from management about certain associates and instead of correcting the problems, they just let it go.  Then the hardworking associates get to work double hard.  It becomes stressful.

So I made the decision to leave.  I cannot work for a company that isn't the same as it had been.  This company seems to veer away from the very foundation that its founder built.

Writing this entry was difficult for me.  I feel let down by a company I once had a deep love for.  I feel that the company has turned its back on the very foundation that it was built on.

It is sad.

I am also angry.  

I wish I could do something to change it.  I wish I had a voice.  I wish I didn't feel this way.  

I wish a lot of things.  

The biggest feeling for me is the disappointment.  I tried hard to make it to the top but I seemed to have missed it.

Shitstorm

I hesitate to write this.  I've been silent for so long while a shitstorm is brewing around me.

This is a continuation of my blog entry, A Total Miscarriage of Justice.

December 1, 2017 is a day I will remember as one of the worse days of my life.

Everyday from the day the judge ordered in favor of the eviction up until December 1st and after has been hell.

After the court hearing, I started packing.  I had to get everything packed and out of the house as fast as I could.  I couldn't risk getting kicked out without having all of my belongings safe.

Once everything was out and stored in a safe place, I still couldn't rest.  It was just a wait until my new place was ready to move into on December 1st.  I was in a constant state of anxiety just waiting for that knock at the door from the sheriff.

We stayed in an empty house on air mattresses, just hoping we had time and we weren't going to be homeless for a couple of days.  I also became so incredibly angry with the ex for allowing this all to happen.

On December 1st, I had the help of my friend, kids and dad to gt everything moved into our new place.  I was and still am in constant fear that the crazy bitch will find me and my daughter.

We had almost everything moved in and I get a phone call from the local police asking me what I was going to do with my dog that was still at the house.  I felt me skin go white.  I asked him why was he at the house and that we weren't done moving yet.  He said he was at the house with the bitch and that they wanted to know what to do with the dog.  I said I was going to be right over and hung up.

When we get there, she is yelling and screaming and dragging my dog out of the house in her kennel.  I'm yelling at her to let go and the cop is yelling at her to let go.


We get the dog taken care of.  I told the officer that there are still two cats in the house and that that crazy bitch is in the house illegally.  He said that she has the paperwork and when I asked to see it, he wouldn't let me see it.

My son opened the garage door using the code.  My car is still in the garage.  She comes storming out screaming that I am trespassing and she closes the garage door.  I'm yelling that she's in the house illegally and the cop is yelling that he will cite us both.

Total chaos.

She gets the garage door closed.

My daughter asks about the cats.  The cop wouldn't let anyone in.  My daughter explains that her dad is in the house so the cop lets her go in.

Kate grabs my coat off the counter.  (I assume she is going to use it to wrap the cat in it). That crazy bitch grabs my daughter and throws her down on the floor right in front of the cop and her father.  I hear my daughter crying and the cop yelling about disorderly conduct.  The bitch is yelling at the cop and my ex.  I assumed that my daughter was crying because the cat scratched her.  I only learned about the assault afterwards when I was called to the station to press charges.

A second cop shows up.

The bitch is inside going nuts.  I hear her yelling at my ex who is telling her to give me my stuff.  The cop is yelling at her.  My kids, my friend and I are all standing outside with the second cop.

The second cop tells me that she has never seen anything like this.  Clearly the bitch entered the house illegally.  She was supposed to have the sheriff serve paperwork before the house could legally be entered.

I decided to call the sheriff's office since they do evictions and our local police do not.  I knew it was wrong for the bitch to be in the house and to keep my car and the rest of my stuff.

Yes, she was going to keep my car.

While waiting for the sheriff, my ex comes out with my bedding.  It is soaking wet.  I asked him why in the hell it was wet.  He said it was on the bathroom floor.  I knew I left it on the kitchen counter and why in the hell was it wet.

I glance in the front door, there was water in the hallway.  I look my ex in the eye and say, "that crazy bitch flooded the house".  He said that there was water all over the basement and the upstairs bathrooms as well.  

I just could not believe the level of crazy and this story isn't even over yet.

A sheriff deputy shows up and goes right in the house.  There is more yelling.

My daughter is still trying to catch the cats.

So much chaos....

A second deputy shows up.

More yelling.

The cats are finally caught and secured in cars.

My daughter is being comforted by the cop who is outside with us.

Yelling and screaming inside the house.

At one point the cop outside with us must have seen the bitch lunge at one of the officers in the house.  She puts her hand on her gun and prepares to enter the house.  She apologized to us and explained that officer safety is her priority.

Finally our local cop comes out and explains that the sheriff deputies have explained that she is in the house illegally and that I am free to take my car and go.

I am allowed in the garage and go to get into my car and notice that there is glass all over the seat.  I look up and my windshield is smashed and a tire iron is laying my the car.

My heart sank.

I called the cop over and showed him.  I took a picture and he said just get in and go.

I look up and the two deputies are trying to hold the bitch back in the garage doorway.  She was trying to come after me.

There are no words to fully explain how I feel.  It has been a couple of months since this happened.

I am still very angry.  I constantly look over my shoulder.  That crazy bitch is incredibly violent.  She has physically attacked my ex.  She cannot know where I live.  I'm escorted out of work.  I worry for my daughter's safety.

There is so much more to this shitstorm that what I can say or write about at this time.

To be continued...

I Don't Love You

Those were such harsh words.

"I don't love you."

These were spoken by a guy I was dating.  I was really into him.  I enjoyed every part of being with him.  He made me feel alive.

Well....until he said that.

And those words constantly haunt me.

They were said a couple of years ago.  They appear in my dreams.  The appear in my quiet moments.  They appear when I least expect it.

The memory of those words is as haunting as any ghost.  They torment.  They hurt.

I often find myself wondering why I am not lovable.  Why would he say something like that?  Why am I so alone all the time?

When I look back to my past relationships I remember the ones who cheated, the one who disappeared, the one who gave up.  I think about why am I attracted to these men who don't respect a relationship and honor a commitment.

The only thing in common is me.  I must have the problem some how.  

I have been to counseling.  We discuss the fact that I feel so unlovable.  We relate it to my relationship with my mother and why I never felt really loved and most likely cannot have a normal relationship until I love myself.  Blah Blah Blah

I get that.

But still...

Words can be so hurtful.

Lately I feel so closed off and almost like a dog licking it's wounds.  I roll into a ball and just cry sometimes.

I should be good enough to receive love and respect but I just don't know how or where to start to find it.  I feel so dysfunctional.

And I'm angry.

I wish I knew how to fix it.  I wish I knew how to trust someone not to leave me.  I just wish I didn't have to be so alone all of the time.

Anonymity is a Voice of Cowards

Today was a trying day to say the least.

I have been having weird issues with headaches, dizzy spells, metal taste in my mouth, losing hair and abdominal pain.  I saw the doctor today to rule out some things but nothing really got ruled out.  I just have to see a different doctor on May 9th.  I won't say too much about what is going on since I don't have the answers yet.

I can deal with it.  Even though I am worried, I can deal with it.

She did discover that I have a sinus infection...still.  I thought it was cleared up but apparently is it really good at trickery.  So I have some huge horse pills to take.

Isn't that great?

So let's get to the point of this blog entry....

I come home from the doctor to find a letter in my mailbox.  There was no return address and no signature on the letter.

The letter is anonymous.

It goes on to tell me that I need to make the decision to be happy. Apparently, I am not happy and this person gathers this from whatever I post on facebook.

Yeah, facebook drama....

I hate facebook but then again I can't turn away from it.  Isn't that weird.  I suppose that many people have this issue.

Moving on...

the writer of this letter also tells me to move on and to get over it.  I guess I am angry all the time too.  

hrrmmm

The writer of the letter talks about my mother and what she did to me. (look up narcissistic mothers and the damage that they do...just look).  I'm not letting that go, not yet.  My therapist said that it is ok for me to be angry about it.  I am allowed to be pissed off and bitter and have negative feelings.  There is some serious damage done and I am NOT letting that go.  If that bothers you, then too bad.  Too fucking bad....

I guess the writer says that I am passing this anger on to my children.  Um, I don't think so.  I have done a lot of work to not be the kind of mother I had.  I allow them to follow their dreams and do what they love.  I support them emotionally.  I tell them every day that I love them.  And if that is passing my anger on to them, then so what.

The writer also used the phrase "be happy" so many times, I wanted to vomit.  Choose to be happy, just be happy, in fact....be happy were the last two words on the letter.  Really?  Just be happy?  Is that all it takes?  This person must be on some sort of medication or doesn't really understand depression.  

If I don't make the choice to be happy then I guess I prefer to live my life in misery.  Yep, that is what it says.  Sounds like this person doesn't know diddly about me at all.  

Also, the writer stated that my mother, me and my daughter are angry, bitter, drama queens.  

Pfft....whatever.....

Oh and the very best part....wait for it.....

Wait

For

It

The writer says that I suck the good, the positive, and the happiness out of people because of my choices.

Yep....that right there just pissed me off.

So many people enjoy my company.  They enjoy my conversation and my humor.  I have an ability to take whatever stressful situation and put a funny spin on it.  The doctor's office today was a great example.  I can make my broken ovaries a very funny discussion.

If anything sucks, it has been numerous people and what they have done to me.  I have been taken advantage of so many times.  I guess that has been my choice in the past.  I chose these people to be around and they sucked me out of my happiness.  So, I no longer really talk to those people anymore.

The letter goes on the say that my father and my exes help me out and I have a nice place to live and blah blah fucking blah....and I should be grateful for it.  I am grateful, really.  All three of them really caused a lot of hurt in the past and I got over it and moved on.  I forgave the cheater, the pansy and the leaver (I won't say who is who, just that all three of them left me and left me wounded.)  I am grateful for my ability to forgive and my ability to ask for help.  I am grateful that I can look past the past hurts and allow these three people to be a part of my life.

How's that for being grateful?

Therapy has been a very positive choice that I have made.

I have become so much stronger.  I have realized that I am entitled to be angry and pissed off.  I allowed to have feelings.  I am also able to look in the mirror and see what a beautiful person I am despite all the negativity I have dealt with.

Apparently, what I write on the interwebs is always up for criticism.  I never minded that.  I don't really ever give two shits what anyone thinks.  I am who I am.  I am not here to impress anyone.  I never cared about stuff like that.  If you don't like me or what I say, that isn't my problem...it's yours.


This person could have sent me a nice card.  Maybe something to cheer me up, you know, a card with puppies or kittens on it.  They could have told me how pretty I am or how wonderful my kids are.  Hell, they could have not bothered to send anything at all and kept their freaking stupid opinions to themselves.  Now there's an idea.

So whoever wrote this letter and took the time to mail it, is a fucking coward.  This person think they know me and all my crosses, all my hurts, all my smiles, all my thoughts and feelings.

They don't.

They suck at anonymity.  

I know exactly who they are; a cruel, ugly, mean, horrible, stupid, heartless, little person.

and that made me happy to write that.  :-)

Angry Angry Hippos

It amazes me how much anger I can have bottled up.  I don't really let it out in constructive ways either.

I can almost feel my insides shaking with it.  It crawls under my skin.

I think anger is just an extension of my depression.

I stay depressed and then it manifests into something quite ugly.  For some reason it gets to that level sometimes.  I never really know what triggers the flip from one feeling to the other.

I am angry because my brother brings up my mom.  It isn't his fault because he doesn't know the whole story of the narcissistic parent/daughter thing going on.  I don't dare tell him because I don't think he would get it and that will just turn into something incredibly ugly.

I am also angry because I feel used.  I loaned money to a "friend".  (ya ya...I know the lecture) and of course this was a couple of years ago and he still hasn't paid me back.  He was supposed to pay me back two months after I loaned it to him.  Now I see him posting about going here and there and of course it requires spending money.  Jackass.....

I am angry for not being able to allow myself to spend my very first bonus on something I want.  I wanted a tv, so I looked at tvs.  Did I buy one?  Nope.  I wanted a sewing machine, so I looked at sewing machines.  Did I buy one?  Nope.  I wanted a new fish tank so I looked at fish tanks.  Did I buy one?  Nope.  I wanted new pots and pans and then at this point I just said "fuck it" and didn't bother.

Damn it.

I am angry at ignorant people who don't take the time to validate facts.  Why this bothers me, I have no idea but it does.  If you are going to share a "fact" with the entire world, you should make damn sure that it is in fact, a fact.  Why spread stupidity?  WHY??????  My mother used to do this and it just pissed me off.

I am angry because my drive way is icy.  I mean "fall on your ass" icy and "break a hip" icy.  I am so sick of winter and it angers me.

I am angry that my phone broke.  I am so angry that I do not plan on replacing it any time soon.  Screw that....I don't want to talk to anyone anyway.

So, if you need me, I will be over in the corner, keeping to myself, with no phone.