My Guard Is Up

 

Sometimes I have the idea of what I want to write but the hardest part is starting the dialog.

I often find myself wanting to apologize for my feelings.  When I express how I feel I worry that I might hurt or offend who I am expressing to.  I have tried to find some understanding as to why I tend to do this.  I have given advice to others that we are entitled to have our feelings and shouldn't have to apologize for them and yet I do it.

Recently, I have expressed my feelings to someone on how I didn't deserve to be treated a certain way.  I wasn't loud about it and I wasn't vulgar in calling names.  I just expressed my feelings of being hurt and not understanding why he felt that it was ok to treat me a certain way.

I am fighting the urge to apologize for expressing how I feel.  I am uncertain why.  I wasn't the shitty one.

I am what is considered to be a guarded girl.  I have loved and loved deeply only to be hurt by that person I loved.  My walls are up and my heart is scarred.

Many have hurt me, left me and I often feel unlovable to a fault.

I never understand why no one wants to step up and be that person that I deserve.  We all deserve to have 100% of someone.  Imagine how it would feel to have that in a relationship.

I promise that I am that guarded girl who, once my heart is opened, I would love the total shit out of you.

Life is way too short for shitty relationships.  

I am no longer going to apologize for my feelings.

If you hurt me, I will let you know.  I will not want a response or an apology.  I will simply walk away.

There is someone out there who is more deserving of what I have to offer.

That someone will be one lucky son of a bitch.

 

A Girl Like Me

 

A girl like me never gets flowers.

A girl like me is always called sexy or hot.

A girl like me is never told she is beautiful.

A girl like me gets sent dick pics and not kind words.

A girl like me never gets asked out to dinner.

Guys only want to fuck a girl like me.  A girl like me never gets to have a relationship.  

Guys don't love a girl like me.

A girl like me starts to doubt our self worth.

A girl like me doesn't feel like they are loveable.

A girl like me feels used and tossed away like a used tissue.

A girl like me cries themselves to sleep because they wish they had someone to hold them.

A girl like me deserves better.  A girl like me deserves 100%.

A girl like me wishes that I wasn't a girl like me.

How I Deal With It

I have written about my battle with depression many times.  I've written about the time I wanted to end my life.  

I write about it because I know there are others who feel the same and they feel alone.  I write to let them know they aren't alone.

I have been asked recently about how I deal with it.  I am asked if I am cured.  I am asked if I still have feelings of ending my life.

First, I don't believe that there will ever really be a cure for depression.  I've dealt with mine since I was about 14 or so.  There were factors that came into play that I don't really talk about.  It isn't because I'm embarrassed or I don't want to talk about them.  It's just that some of the factors have names and I don't feel angry or hatred towards them so I don't want anyone else judging them.  

Second, I deal with depression by recognizing my triggers and avoiding them.  Triggers could be memories of past trauma or even when I let my own head starts overthinking.  Sometimes I even see the "factors" of my past and I have to pretend that things didn't happen.

I also practice self care.  Practicing self care is a huge key in managing depression.  I have learned to immurse myself in creativity.  I use it as an outlet.  I create beautiful things and that makes me feel good.  I read.  I write.  I walk.  I take time outs for me.  I go to the lake and dip my toes.  

I've accepted myself for who I am and if others don't like me, that is their problem, not mine.  There are times when my own mind lies when I look in the mirror.  I hear that I am ugly, fat, stupid, unlovable and so on.  Those lies are just echoes from my former self.  

And.... they are just lies.

I also have learned to accept love into my heart.  I don't mean a romantic love but a pure love from family and friends.  I surround myself with good people and I love them back. 

I've learned to ask for help.  There are numbers that I can call and talk to someone immediately.   I reach out to friends and family. 

Do I still have feelings of ending it all?

I haven't in a very long time.  I've made many changes to my life to ensure that it doesn't happen.  Sometimes I wonder if I will have a moment of irrational thought and that would be all it takes.

It was hard work learning to step back from that ledge.  It continues to be hard work.

But good things come from hard work.

Suicide Hotline

800-273-8255

Semicolon

 

He saw my tattoo.

A butterfly with a subtle semicolon for a body.

The butterfly symbolizes a beautiful change.  

The semicolon is a symbol that means that an author could have ended a sentence and chose not to.  

The semicolon is now recognized as a symbol of affirmation and solidarity against suicide, depression and other mental health issues.  It inspires strength in the midst of suffering.

He saw my tattoo.  He noticed the semicolon fairly quickly.  I was surprised since many do not see that detail.  Especially a man...

He asked about it.  I am really open about how the tattoo came about.  I talk about how there was that one moment of irrational thought where I was really ready to end it.

The mental pain is hard to deal with and you just want it to stop.

He then shared his story.  We were in a room with so many people but it was like we were the only two people in the room.

He put his hand on my back and I could almost feel his energy, his pain, his suffering.  I could also feel his relief to be talking with someone who understands.  

Throughout the night he would come and stand next to me, touch my arm or my back.  He kept apologizing for it.  I told him that there is no need to apologize.

It is a great comfort to know that you are not alone and what you feel or what you are going through is hard. 

May is Mental Health Awareness Month.

It is important every month but times are really tough lately with the damn virus and the world is all turned upside down.  It is especially hard on teens.  

Please be kind to one another.

You never know what battles someone is fighting.

Back to the Begining

 

I always knew that I was going to move once my youngest was done with high school.  I was living in a town for 22 years and still felt like an outsider.  Not by anyone's fault.  It was just a town that was small and everyone knew everyone.  I just didn't fit in.

It also didn't help that I was divorced in this small town and my ex lived within walking distance.  He also married a nut job and frankly, I didn't like running in to her. (Yes, he married the nut job from this post.)

I wasn't exactly sure where I was going to go but I did know, I wasn't staying.

I took a trip out to Phoenix, AZ to visit my very dear friend.  I wanted to see if I could possibly call it home.  I booked my flight and in March I went.  This was at the very beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic.  Toilet paper was in short supply and spring training for baseball was cancelled.  I was concerned that I might not be able to get home.  But then again, it would have made the moving decision easy.

I loved Arizona.  It is very beautiful and Scottsdale is so inspiring for a creative mind.  I thought that maybe I could live there.  But then I remembered....it gets hot.  I know, I know, its a dry heat.  I don't care.  When it is 120 degrees, it is still hot.  I'm not a huge fan of hot.

I came back to Wisconsin with fond memories that I will keep close.  I will go back again.

But I still was wondering where to go.

Katie was graduating soon and I wanted to move before it got to be close to winter.  I don't like moving in the winter.

I had thought about moving to Appleton or Green Bay.  I would still be close to my daughter.  My son recently moved to lower Michigan and he wouldn't be too far.  I looked at apartments and jobs but something just wasn't there.  I didn't feel like that was the right choice either.

I was joking with my sister and she said I could come live in her basement.  That would have been a good idea except I don't think her husband could put up with both of us.  Then our talk became more serious.

I decided to move home.

Home being Upper Michigan, Yooperland, Copper Country....

The more I planned, the more excited I got.  My friends and family were there.  I could easily find a job at Walmart until I figured out what I really wanted to do.

I set the plan in motion.

In September, I accepted a job with Walmart.  The Walmart where I first started in an empty building in 1994.  I then scheduled some apartment showings.

I saw one apartment and at my first steps in, my eyes teared up.  I kept apologizing to the landlord.  I felt that this was home.

That evening I joined my life long friends at their camp along the shores of Lake Superior.  I had only planned to stay for dinner as it had been a long day.  As I sat and watched the waves roll and chatted with my friends I truly felt as if I was home.  It was getting late and we were laughing about something so funny that we worried about our bladders, tears rolling down and holding stomachs, I overheard my friend's husband say "there is a lot of healing happening here".

How true that sounded.

After so many years of hurt feelings, failed relationships, heartbreak, trauma, hard work, raising kids as a single parent, I truly felt I was home.

It has been about three months that I've been back.  I've seen my sister more in the last four weeks than I have in the last four years.  I've hung out with friends and enjoyed the pleasure of deck drinking in November.  I've met new friends.  I've received many hugs and welcome homes.

It is so good to be back to the beginning.

The Guarded Heart

I’ve been fighting demons again.

The struggle becomes so difficult that I’m my own enemy.  My mind becomes a weapon against me.

My walls are so damn high and I am just lost.

I need to get back into therapy before it becomes too late.

I used to love so easily and freely. I gave myself to those who didn’t deserve it, sacrificing myself in the process.

Lately I don’t even recognize myself.

I feel so unloved and unwanted, not only by others but even I don’t even want me.  I feel so unloved and closed.  I hurt.

A lot.

I don’t know what to do.

I sit in my solitude.  It is so quiet but at the same time I hear my mind just screaming.  I wish it would just stop.

The lies.  I know my mind is lying but sometimes is just easier to just accept the fact that I’m not worthy of a life of love and laughter.  I’m not worthy of someone’s time.  I’ve become an afterthought or even just a booty call and that’s all I deserve.

My mind is a liar and I just accept it.

I don’t know how to ask for help.

Tears stream down my face as I type this.

Every day I just feel more broken.

A Beautiful Emotional Mess

I dropped my Coke on the garage floor and stood over it and cried.

I'm a mess emotionally lately.

I haven't been sleeping.  I haven't been eating.

I put on a happy face and fake it to the world but in private, my face is sad.

I feel so alone lately.

I worry that it is only going to get worse.  My son is grown and moved out.  My daughter is a teenager and doing her own thing.

I read some where that loneliness is a faster cause of death than smoking. 

I miss having someone to love and to love me as I deserve.  This time of year is the hardest.  

I tend to feel unlovable and worthless.  I feel that men never want to be the person that I deserve.  I just build a wall around myself and wallow in my self pity.

Hell, I fear commitment.  Every relationship I've had just blew up into ugly.

But I can't just give up.

So I stood over my Coke and cried.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Mom's Ring

I have weird dreams from time to time.  I guess it is just because I have a weird mind.

I dreamt the other night about my mom's wedding ring.  I can't remember the whole context of the dream, only the fact that I couldn't find it.

This caused me to panic the next morning.

It had been months since I last seen it.  I used to wear it on my diamond necklace since it was too small to wear on my hand.  I also never want anything to happen to it.

It is a small ring with a heart shaped diamond.  I love how simple it is and what it means.

When my mom and step dad got married, I thought it was the most meaningful thing representing their relationship.

Anyway....

The ring reminds me of her.

I know I have written in the past that my mom was extremely narcissistic, causing issues in my own relationships and yadda yadda.

From what I have read so far on the whole dynamic of daughters of narcissistic mothers, the daughters tend to hold such anger towards their mothers.

I must be different.

Understanding what may cause the narcissist to become what they are, helps me forgive anything that may have happened.

I can never hold anger.  It isn't healthy.

Everything that has happened in the past has caused me to become the person I am today.

I love my mom regardless.

I love having her ring.

A symbol of love....

Third Anniversary

Funny how we can remember the small details in a life changing moment.

Tomorrow is the third anniversary of my mother's death.

We knew it was coming but didn't expect it so soon.

I called her in the hospital that morning from work.  I never did this.  There was just that pull to do it and she said that she was being transferred to a larger hospital.  I asked if I should come.  Her responses was, "Jesus Christ, no."  I knew she was going to be fine and would call her again once she settled in at Marquette.  I told her I loved her and she said she loved me.

Not more than four hours later, she was gone.

I was having lunch with my co-workers.  It was my going away lunch as I was leaving to go onto new things.

My sister called me as we were leaving the restaurant.

Mom was gone.

I let out a cry and felt everyone look at me.  I didn't care.

My mom was gone.

As much as that woman drove me bat shit crazy.  I loved her.

I still love her.

I carry her with me always.

There are days where I wish that there was more time.  There are times when I wish I could have been there when she left.

I am so thankful that I made that call the morning.  

She left knowing I loved her.  She left with me knowing she loved me.

(The photo is me and mom on my 26th birthday.  She always bought me glittery sweaters.  I hated it but I wore it because I love her.)

Pain Caused by Heartbreak Can Leave Scars

The following "poem" was a free write I did back in 2008.  I found it while I was looking for something else.

I met Mike in 2006 and we fell in love and then he disappeared.  With no rhyme or reason or explanation.  He just disappeared.  Sometime in 2009 I heard from him again.  His sweet talk and lovey dovey crap came at me like a freight train.  I was cautious and eventually pushed him away and out of my thoughts.  I really haven't thought much about him since then and I found this.

The emotional turmoil that the man left me in was something I have never experienced before in my life.  I think this may be way I am so guarded against having serious relationships now.

Pain caused by heartbreak can leave scars.

(apologies for the hard language in the photo.....it fit the emotion at the time of the writing)

God, I miss you.

I hate how it feels to miss you.

I had always expected to be friends.

Then love came oh so unexpected.

You said you loved me first and patiently waited until I loved you next.

To you I was beautiful.

I only wanted to be beautiful to you.

You asked me why I was crying.

I didn't want to tell.

You said I would see you again.

You lied...I think.

Months passed and seasons changed.

You left me with questions without obvious answers.  Subtle shades of grey cloud my reasoning.

I blame myself most of the time.

What did I say?

You know, I see you in my dreams.  Haunting me, taunting me...

Standing there.

I try to push you away.

I try to kick you out.

You are always there.

In my heart, on my mind...

I told you with tears that my biggest fear was losing you.

You assured me that it would never happen..

I am afraid that it already has.

Goodbye my lover...

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.

Dirty Little Liar

Depression

Many people talk about it, many people have it, many people don't understand it.

There are many descriptions of it and how it feels to have it.  There are treatments for it.

I have had it for many many years.  Ever since I hit puberty, I have dealt with it.  Sometimes it ebbs and then there are times it flows.

This time of year is difficult.

I have the moments where I don't want to get out of bed.  I have the teary eyed drive home moments.  (The car is such a bastard because it traps me with my thoughts.)  I have the moments of insecurity and can't even stand my own reflection.  I have the "I'm so broke, I can't do anything fun" moments.  I lose interest in anything that gives me the slightest joy.  I think I have no friends or have friends that just don't give a shit.

Life becomes flat.

There is no other fix for it than just plugging through it.

I try to block out the damn lies that depression whispers in my ear.

It tells me things.

You are not good enough.  Nobody loves you.  That big zit on your face will never go away.  You will never ever have any money.  You are ugly.  You are fat.  Everyone leaves you because it is your fault.  You can't do anything right.  Your animals are going to die because you mistreat them.  Your kids think you are a failure.  You are just so stupid.  

and the list goes on....

All lies

When you are in the pit of depression, the lies become so believable.  One million people can all tell you that they are not true and tell you so many positive things but you tend to believe those whispery lies because you know you best.

Even your little helper pill doesn't help.  (citalopram, zoloft, lexapro, paxil, prozac...for examples)

So how to deal with it.

Good question

I tend to just accept it as it is and hope it passes quicker than the last bout with it.  I never have thoughts of suicide but I can see where someone may be pushed to that level.  I tend to think about running away, just disappearing into the unknown.  I start looking at other countries or places to go.  I look at job postings and plan an escape.  It takes long enough to check everything out that I kind of forget about the depression.

Funny, eh?

I know that there are so many other people who deal with depression and that is just sad in itself.  Sometimes I wonder why so many of us have to deal with it.  

This world would be such a better place if we just didn't have depression.

The Recliner Incident

Some of you may or may not know that I am totally in love with a little guinea pig named Dog.

Dog has a little friend who is quite new to our family named Oscar.  I love Oscar too. 

but this is a post about Dog.

Dog is my our (but mostly mine) first guinea pig.  He is quite spoiled and well cared for.  He has issues with his skin and such that make him quite a little handful at times but his personality and ability to comfort in times of sorrow.  He snuggles and gives kisses.  He talks to you when he wants something.  He isn't afraid to try new things to eat.

I have done all sorts of reading on how to best care for these little guys; no pine bedding, clip their nails, give them floor time, buddies are best, boar cleaning (google it, it's gross), what to feed them, what not to feed them, how to take them outside, how to make them talk to you, how to get them to trust you...

You get the picture.

Well, tonight the recliner almost took our little Dog away.

My daughter was sitting in it and leaned back and I heard (she heard too) a high pitch scream from under the chair.

All of my blood rushed to my feet.

I looked around and saw Oscar but where was Dog?

OH. MY. GOD.

Dog was under the recliner.  He was the pig who screamed.  

He was dead...I just knew it.....

Kate moved as quick as anyone could and I tipped the recliner forward, fearful of what I might find.

Dog scurried from under the chair and went behind the coffee table.  I was relieved to see that he could walk and he was breathing.

Once caught, I gave him the once over.  Then I gave him the twice over.  I checked a third time just to make sure that all of his parts were where they were supposed to be and not broken.

I then cried.

Heaven help me the day these little loves get to be too old and pass over the Rainbow Bridge.

I love these little fuzzbutts.