Nightly Ramble

Feeling a bit busy these days.  Not sure why though.  I guess my work schedule is always changing and I come home always exhausted.  This is a good thing though.  I work hard because I really want to do a good job and go places.  

I lost Oscar on February 10th.  Oscar was one of my guinea pigs.  He was a funny, curious boy that continued to make me laugh.  He was the only one who would sit at the bottom of the stairs and wheek at them for no apparent reason.

He will be missed.

I don't deal with death very well.  I understand that it is part of life.  I just can't be around dead bodies.  It doesn't matter if it is human or animal.  It is not how I want to remember them by.  I like to remember their live selves.  I am just weird like that.  I didn't see my mom.  She was cremated before the funeral.  I wasn't there when she passed away.  This is good because I just remember her alive.

I am rambling.

I tend to do that.

I also talk to myself sometimes.

My daughter always asks why I talk to the guinea pigs or the cat.  I tell her that it makes me seem less crazy.  lol

Anyway, sorry that this isn't mind blowingly awesome but it will have to do.  I am tired and I have to work in the morning.

Mind Dump

I dreamt of my mother last night.  It was a weird dream that included racks of clothing.  A sales person in knee high boots and a carnival act in the parking lot of a store that included large inflatable clowns and a child.  My mom and I were shopping (I guess) and on the way out we saw the clown act with the child and I elbowed her and nodded to the act and she shrugged.  No words were exchanged.  Then the alarm went off and that was that.

Weird huh?

The dream probably means something deep down.  What is strange that I remember the dream so vividly from about 12 hours ago.

I dream of my mom here and there.  I also dream of my grandparents too.  Not always all together and not always every night.

Things have been changing around here.  My daughter's dad and I decided to enroll her in a private Lutheran school here in town.  We are hoping that this helps with social issues and also we hope that it gives her a challenge with her school work.

I was against the transfer at first.  I am not overly religious and I worried about how much it would cost.  

We took a tour of the school and once inside the church sanctuary, I had this overwhelming feeling of being home.  

I used to go to church frequently with my friends.  I liked to sing the hymns.  I liked to listen to the messages given.

Some where along the way, I lost my faith.  I began to question my beliefs.  I just gave up on believing on anything.  I stopped praying.  
After taking the tour, I have been thinking about revisiting the church and maybe getting my faith back.

So there you have my mind dump....just a couple of random things rambling around my brain.

P.S.  I just reread what I wrote and my spell checker doesn't like the word "dreamt".  What the hell?

Not a Pity Party

Holy cow!  Two blogs back to back....must be something I ate, eh?

Yesterday I wrote about my feelings about love and how unlovable I feel.  I didn't write it to have myself a little pity part nor was I looking for sympathy.  I create most of my own problems and I realize that.

I wrote it because (well I write a lot of things) because I think others read it and think that they aren't alone in their own feelings.  Sometimes it is better when you don't feel so alone.

We all have our insecurities and fears.  We also have our own little glory moments and grand occasions.

This is life.

Life has struggles and life has people who just plain suck in it.  Life is funny that way.

I often wonder if around this time of year it is just harder for me.  The anniversary of my mom's death is right around the corner.  I think that it gets harder every year,

You know, the last thing I said to her ever was "I love you".  I meant it.  I called her on the day she died while she was being transferred to a bigger hospital.

You know, the last thing she said to me ever was "I love you too."  

That is pretty significant.

As much as that woman drive me insane some times, I loved her (well, I still love her).  She is my mom.  She will always be my mom.

I gets hard when she isn't around when life is kicking my ass.  As my sister says, "Mom always made it better."

My sister is right.

Anyway, I often think about that person who sends me anonymous notes in the mail.  Why does this person do that?  I also think about whether if it is because I write about my feelings and issues and they just seem to have their opinions.

No matter what, I will continue to write.

It is almost like therapy for me.  I sometimes refer to it as "mind dumping".  I dump out what is in my head onto the screen and hit share.

Well, this seems to be enough rambling for now.  I am tired and tomorrow is yet another day.

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.

We All Fail Sometimes

Funny, I sit here worried about what I say because it might trigger another hate letter in the mail from my anonymous friend (I use the word "friend" loosely here.).

I shouldn't be worried.  I shouldn't let people intimidate me because of what they think.

You know, we all fail sometimes.  It is allowed.  It is a human type thing to do.  This is how we learn.  We make mistakes.  We fail at things.

I have failed quite a bit in the last twelve months.  I am not afraid to admit it.  

“Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly.” - Robert F. Kennedy

This doesn't mean that I failed on purpose.

I made an attempt at living a life I thought I wanted.  I mean, I do like living in the country and having a nice car and a good job.  But these things all came with a price.  The price was both monetary and mentally.

I am not going to rehash what I failed at.

What needs to happen is a new plan, a new vision board, a new direction.

I am sure it is going to take some time.  Rome wasn't built in a day.  Hell, I am pretty sure that it wasn't even built in a month.

I've already made a big step in going back to a job a enjoy.  I find great satisfaction in working hard, seeing results and hearing feedback on what I have done.  I enjoy talking to different people.  I find the greatest joy in this.

“Failure should be our teacher, not our undertaker. Failure is delay, not defeat. It is a temporary detour, not a dead end. Failure is something we can avoid only by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing.” - Denis Waitley 

The hardest part is going through the bad to get to the good.  

It IS all about me.

Today I came home from a long day at work.  I trudged up the stairs with my groceries, looking forward to being home in the quiet.  I even bought new candles to put that relaxing scent in the air that is recommended by the latest articles on rest and relaxation.  I trotted back down to my mailbox in the hallway since my hands were full earlier.  I made the guinea pigs their "nummies", gave Nemo the cat his head scratches and treats, then I sat down to read my emails and munch on my dinner.  

I know, I am just a bundle of excitement, don't be jealous of that.

I glanced over and remembered that I had mail.  I like getting mail for some dumb reason.  I don't even care if it is bills.  I am kind of strange like that.

I opened my letters.  I was so happy to see my new health insurance cards.  The best thing about working so hard and getting promoted to full time is the benefits for my family.

I left the bigger envelope unopened.  It didn't have a return address but it had a local postmark.  I was curious but I waited anyway.  I don't recall why.

The envelope laid on the floor next to the couch until my episode of Roseanne was over.  Did you know Netflix has Roseanne?  I love that show.

I picked it up and opened it.  There was a single piece of paper folded in three and I wondered why someone would put that in a big envelope and pay the extra postage.  Duh...

Once I unfolded the letter and saw that it was a print out of a joke that I posted on Facebook (I know, social media drama) on the 27th of December. 

"A woman just dropped a 20 dollar bill next to me.  I thought 'What would Jesus do?' so I turned it into wine... Well, I bought wine."

It was just some joke I read somewhere and it made me chuckle.  So I just shared it.

Now, I never worry about offending anyone because, Facebook is what it is. No one would post anything if that were the case.  People post the dumbest shit, me included.

Anyway, back to my story.

On the paper was a handwritten note that basically said the reason that horrible things happen to me is because I wasn't a good person and kept the $20.  Oh and, when was I going to get it, it isn't all about me.

This was NOT signed.

Ack!  Another anonymous note....

If you missed it...here's a link to the first note.

Anonymity is a Voice of Cowards

Of course this upset me.

This is such a shitty thing to do.  I mean, write a letter based on a joke that I posted assuming that I actually kept a $20 bill and bought wine.

First of all, I would not have done any such thing.

Second of all, if I had...I would have bought something a little stronger than wine.

(I kid, please don't send me a nasty note)

In all fairness, if this anonymous person knew me at all, they would understand that I do just about anything for anyone.  I have helped friends in pain.  I have loaned money to a friend when he needed help.  I have made gifts for friends fighting cancer.  I have donated my time and money for good causes.  I have rescued turtles from a busy highway.  I have send kind messages and cards to people who needed uplifting.

Now, I do things not to shine bright in the eyes of God.  I do things like this because it is the human thing to do, the kind thing to do.

The thing that really upsets me is that this person takes the time to send this anonymous, hateful thing to me and thinks that it is going to change me.  If anything, it makes me want to keep on being me.

I hate to break it to you, but it is about me.  It is my Facebook page, my blog, my little corner of the interwebs and if you don't like what I have to say, post, comment, whatever....you can kindly block me or stop reading the shit I post.  It is that simple.

I like who I am.  

Sending me a letter by mail without signing it gives it absolutely no validation in my eyes.  It is basically void.

You know, shitty things happen.  It is how life is.  I know this.

It isn't because Jesus hated my joke.  It isn't because God is causing me to suffer.

It is because it is how life is.

Do you think children suffer from cancer because they posted a joke about Jesus and $20? 

Honestly, I am not sure that Jesus would know what a $20 bill looks like.  His time was so long ago and he is from a completely different country.  

This person also assumes that I am even a believer in God, Jesus and Heaven.

Never assume anything about anyone.....

Seriously

Now, I am not admitting whether I am a believer or not.  If you truly know me and know what I am all about, you would already know the answer to this.

Also, if this person who wrote the letter to me was a true Christian, would this be a very christian thing to do?

Take a moment to think about that for a second.

This person who wrote the letter seems to be very interested in what I post, say or do.  They don't "unfriend" me or tell me that I suck and admit who they are. 

They hide behind the curtain of anonymity thinking that this will show me a thing or two.  I am assuming (I know, I shouldn't assume but I am anyway) that this is the same person that sent me the other anonymous letter back in April. 

This person is still a coward.  This person is probably the most unchristian, unhuman, unkind person I know (or not know).

If this person's goal was to hurt me, they failed.

You see, if anyone is making it all about me, it is this anonymous person.

By the way.....The police now have the letter.

This Year's Christmas Letter

Usually this time of year I think about what to write about in my Christmas letter.

I am one of those old school people who send cards with letters in them with actual postage stamps and everything.

I often think my letters are boring.  Well, except that one year when I told everyone that my son was an European soccer star and my 8 year old daughter ran off to marry the prince of some unknown country.  Yes, I actually did write all that since it was amusing and it wasn't the standard "everyone is just great" letter.

This year has been a bad one as far as years go.

I lost my home.  I lost my job.  I lost a battle with the health insurance company and my surgery was denied.

Sometimes I have half a mind to write all of that in the letter.  Family and friends have no idea what kind of crap happens over here.

I always think that the new year will be different, better some how.  It just never seems to get any better.

Oh well...

Maybe I will just write a poem:

Jingle Bells, Santa smells...
This year kinda sucked
Hoping next year is better.

:-)