Wednesday, November 16, 2011

dissociative disorder and depersonalization

Every once in a while something smacks me in the face that I've unconsciously realized for some time, but never really made its way to the surface. I will realize things well after an event has occurred and most people would assume that I would clearly realize what had happened, but I do not. I also have an uncanny ability to self-analyze. I think that is why I can do so well without seeing a shrink. I don't deny I need therapy, but I also know that I manage to scrape by well enough by being able to pick myself apart and see why I think and act a certain way. I've realized this is a mixed blessing. Its good that I can recognize what's "wrong" with me, but what isn't good is WHY I'm able to do it so clearly. I have some form of dissociative disorder. In other words, I can be unimaginably emotionally detached, often for long periods of time, I don't feel any emotion. Generally its when I'm undergoing a stress. I don't even feel the stress, but I know I should feel stress. Given the fact that when I took a test to determine my stress level, my number was so high my professor said I should be having a mental breakdown and yet I felt completely normal should have been some sort of clue. I've been through a lot of traumatic events in my life, but I can talk about all of it calmly and unemotionally. It surprises doctors because they expect me to show some sort of emotion over it. I can look them in the eyes and say how much and often and how I've been abused and describe it all as if it happened to someone else. It isn't exactly the reaction medical doctors expect. I'm sure a therapist would be able to tell right off the bat what was wrong with me. I know it isn't a normal state. I know I should feel something, but when emotion starts to surface, I cram it back down and away. Its an automatic reflex and I don't pay it any mind. I shut thoughts out of my mind. If I didn't, I would probably be in a mental hospital. I don't know how I would be able to function without my coping mechanism. I detach. When I've gone through really terrible times, I feel as if I'm on auto-pilot. I go through the motions of every day with little or no genuine emotion. Rarely it will break through and my defenses are lowered briefly. I succumb. I cry gut-wrenching sobs so terrible I can barely breathe to let out another sob. I feel as if I will break from sadness and despair-as if my body isn't able to contain my feelings. But then it passes as swiftly as it came. My detachment comes back so that I can survive. I wish I could say that I thought I had gone through experiences worse than anyone else. That would make me feel justified in my emotions, but when I'm detached from myself the way I am, I can rationalize. I can know that there are people who have been through so much worse than I have and who still manage to get through. Sometimes I feel wrong because I know people have been through worse. It seems silly to be upset over what others would see as trivial compared to their experiences. I don't think I'm ready to deal with a lot of the anger I would feel if I actually tuned in to my emotions full-time, so I suppose its a good thing I just cope...

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Reflections on a Year Well-Spent.

Its hard to believe, but I've now been a nanny for a year now. For one whole year of this child's life, I have been with him more than anyone. That knowledge is rather sobering. I am forming a child's life. Of course the parents have a large part in this, but so do I especially now that he's starting to learn and understand speech. These are his formative years. I have the opportunity to help him learn and grow and the responsibility not to screw him up for life. He has wonderful foundations. His mom is a wonderful person who truly loves her son. When I came in for the interview, I was so nervous because I was anticipating a huge house with parents who didn't really care about their child at all and just wanted someone to take them off their hands. I remember pulling up to the house and being relieved that it was a pretty small house and not in a ritzy area. When I was in the interview, I was struck by the sense that this woman truly loved her son. I felt comfortable with that. I ended up talking with her for at least an hour after the official interview was over. I wanted this job by the end of it. The dad also loves his kid but he travels a lot, which is sad. Its sweet to see him hold his little guy before he leaves. You get the sense that he really will miss him. He is pretty well set in lifeto begin with. Its my job not to ruin that. And if the kid happens to like me in the process, I'm good with that.

Its been an absolute roller coaster ride of a year. Planning a wedding, realizing there were issues, realizing I didn't love and in fact didn't know my fiance. Realizing I loved someone else. Losing that someone else, finding him again, losing him and now finding him once more. This doesn't even take into account the other stressors I've gone through. Life has been very difficult this past year. I can't imagine how I would have gotten through without this job. Between the baby, the dog and the mom, I've gotten through. I always had a source of affection and a big warm furry body to hug and sometimes cry on. The mom gave me much needed human contact. Without her I wouldn't have spoken to a single adult. When the dad is out of town, we often sit and talk after work. Its nice to feel like I have a friend of sorts, even if they are your source of income. Its a strange mix.

It hasn't always been easy here though. I've had those days of frustration when he just wouldn't nap, or would only nap a certain way or not long enough. Days when I was so exhausted and would beg him to nap so I could rest myself. He started exerting his independence pretty early and that's been a trial as well. Its frustrating to have to figure out the best ways of dealing with things like that. I think a lot of progress has been made though. He's stopped biting and clawing so much, which is wonderful. So far, he's listening a lot more and accepting that there are boundaries.he's been responding very well and I'm nd I'm proud of him. Its been wonderful watching him develop from a tiny (comparatively) baby who hadn't yet discovered rolling, to a little toddler running around and barking at the dog and learning animals and such. He's a wonderful boy and I absolutely adore him. He's my little buddy. I enjoy going to work. It doesn't feel like work. I "go to work" and then I get there and I'm not at work. I'm hanging out with a little guy and loving it. Its the best job I've had. I remember going to his birthday party and feeling a sense of pride when people fawned over him. He'll never be my kid and I'll never feel like I'm his mom, but that's a good thing. I do have a motherly feeling for him, but he doesn't need a mom like the other children I've felt that way towards. He has good parents and I don't get the sense of protection I've felt for others because he already has that. But I'll take being a mini-mom. I'll mother him when his is busy and I like it that way. Its fun to have him wander over to me and to know he feels safe with me. I can never be and have no interest in being a replacement.

I can't believe its been a year already, but at the same time, its hard to remember when I wasn't here with him. For now, life is good. I'm fulfilled and happy at work. My personal life has finally balanced out and its safe and comfortable and loving. Just what I need and he needs. Not taking things too fast and just enjoying being us. My life has a bit of sparkle every day now. I'm happy.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Thoughts and Reflection

First off, I got home to a very potentially exciting letter-from the Jury Commissioner. I'm fairly certain I'm one of very few people that doesn't groan with irritation at the mere idea of being summoned to jury duty. I think it would be an interesting experience at the very least. I understand that, in general, you don't get to deal with terribly interesting cases, but I still feel that it would be an incredibly fascinating experience being able to participate in the judicial system in some tangible way. I've not been selected for duty, just consideration to serve. I really would love to be able to serve on a jury, but I'm a nerd. I should also probably be reading the legal opinion I was gifted with, which has been incredibly fascinating to read. I'm about half-way through it.

Instead of doing that, I'm sitting here in the kitchen, typing out a blog with nails that are far too long to be functional in such a capacity (I should trim them...but I never have long nails!) I should also be eating my dinner and finding something to eat for lunch tomorrow, or going on a long evening walk because its rather nice weather outside and the longest day of the year. Strange realizations happen at work-not always good ones. I was talking to Boo Boo today, and she made some wise crack that I will not repeat due to the rather offensive nature, though I thought it was pretty funny. Tim would never wear chapstick because he thought it was too effeminate and he was incredibly sensitive about anything that could be construed as such. His father is gay, so possibly that has something to do with it. Steph made a smart-ass remark about something, implying jokingly that he was gay or at least a cross-dresser. Then it struck me that Tim once said he did wonder at one point in his life if he was gay. Having a father that is made him wonder and that, combined with a certain variety of dreams concerning homoerotic behaviour made him question himself and since he didn't seem to be interested in females. Combine that with a sense that he was always very...restrained and his incredible sensitivity to the gay issue when applied to him, now makes me wonder if he is gay. Having been with him for five years, I can honestly say I would not be the slightest bit surprised if he were. At the very least, I am highly suspicious that he is bi-sexual. There was always something that was lacking in the physical arena and there was only once that he ever displayed anything approaching passion, and that would be an absolutely disgusting analogy. Control is not passion, and being able to show such control over a much weaker individual is nothing to be proud of. After being slightly dumb-founded for a little bit over the realization that my ex-fiance likely was gay, or at least could quite possibly be so, and knowing that if he were, he still would have married me and I never would have known unless he decided to come out of the closet at some point after we married and probably had children, I started to think. This usually isn't a good idea for me.

I have a lot of regrets about my relationship with Tim, if one can call such a thing a relationship. In reality, it wasn't much of one, I think of it as a farce. In reality, the relationship lasted so long because I willed it so. I gave it everything I had and more. I tried so hard to work things out in a productive manner. I failed, but I failed because I didn't have an equal partner in these efforts. I've since realized that I wasn't the problem. That sounds harsh, but when trying the same methods in different situations, things were actually able to be resolved. All it took was someone who is able to communicate in a calm logical manner, when needed. I thrive on that. Yet I was always labeled as the "emotional" one and Tim was always the superior logical being.

Tim and I had so many issues. I never trusted him. I never had that much reason to, in fact, I was given multiple reasons why I shouldn't have trusted him, yet he always wondered why I didn't. Well, if you lie to me-if you purposely neglect to tell me information that you had promised to tell me, then I ask you point-blank about it, and you tell me, I'm not going to trust you. If you lead me to believe something, and I discover accidentally that it isn't true, I'm going to have a very difficult time trusting you (really? you "forgot" that you used to mess around with your cousin...just a few years back...really?? I call bullshit) If you purposely do not tell me about things because you think I'm going to leave you, (a) that is a reason TO tell me! (b) what the hell are you thinking not telling me and just going through your life lying about it?? That speaks volumes about the person I was planning to marry.

I nearly left him many times. I can't even count the number of times through the five years that I handed him a ring back-either his class ring or the engagement ring. Some of the times, I felt like I was messing everything up and wasn't able to have a healthy relationship at all and was saving him, by attempting to leave. After we were engaged, for the most part, I had stopped. I had made my decision and I was sticking to it. I fooled everyone. Tim and I were the "perfect" couple. I never told anyone the problems I was having with him. My best friend, and sister didn't even know. She had no clue before I dropped the bombshell of what was the pre-break-up events. I'm hoping I didn't shorten her life-span with that... I'm pretty sure that if I had told anyone anything about our relationship and Tim found out, he would have been very upset. When I did tell anyone anything, he wasn't happy about it at all. That didn't just include problems. In general, I feel that relationship issues shouldn't be spread around. You deal with it within a relationship. I should have told Steph. People were telling me to leave him, but when those people have obvious ulterior motives for wanting you single, you just don't tend to listen. I mean honestly, "break up with him so I can be with you!!" just doesn't cut it in my book. Would I have left Tim if I had said anything? Maybe, I don't know. I think it would have at least forced me to look at the issues a little more closely. When things came up, I tried to discuss them with him, and the upshot was that he would say, "I'll try" I bought it. Then I forgot about it until it came up again. I just let things happen, in a sense. I wanted to know what he was doing in school. I didn't like sitting and having dinner with his mom and having her ask me how he did on a test I didn't know he even had. That makes me look amazing! I always felt so left out. He would say he told me the important things. I'm not really quite sure what he felt was important, because he never told me much of anything. He wouldn't even tell me about podcasts he listened to. He said he didn't think of school as important, so he wouldn't tell me. So school isn't important, even though it has a direct impact on our planned lives together. Something as mundane as a podcast isn't important, or more like he wouldn't tell me about it because he didn't think I would like it, or would be offended. Had he ever met me? I don't actually offend that easily. So, what WAS important? I don't honestly know. I found out so much from his mother that I should have found out from him. I got the sense that I was a very unimportant member of his life-despite his claims to the contrary. I never came first, ever. I'm not saying abandon your family obligations for me, but I am saying that if I need you because I'm having some sort of crisis, at the very least ASK your mother if you can have a ride over to help your poor stupid suicidal fiancee without having her nearly kill herself. Just sayin... At the point where I'm actually on the phone with him and say "fuck you, timothy" and hang up on him because he wasn't trying to help when he lived a 3 minute drive away....instead I had to drive over and pick him up when I should never have been anywhere nearer the driver seat than the passenger seat... Just one example, but fairly indicative of the state of things. Or knowing that his mother was in the wrong, and telling me so, and apparently telling her so in private, never backing me up in front of her. Seriously, go marry her already, because that was just the tip of the Oedipus Iceberg.

But this wasn't meant to be a venting of every issue he and I had. Before everything came to a head, I remember standing in the kitchen with him and having his mother call me and ask how he was doing. I told her he seemed fine, why? she said oh, even with having to change majors? Gee I look soo informed. "oh, I didn't know about that, he didn't tell me..." That night, I was so incredibly frustrated. All I could say was how could you not tell me? Telling me that the counselor said to call your parents to ask for advice about what major to pick, so you called mommy, doesn't cut it. I was marrying him. All I could think was how we were ever going to make it. I honestly don't remember if things had already started and I was in the middle of the back and forth emotional roller coaster that the pre-break-up was, or not. I don't think it had started yet. I remember that he had no idea why I was so upset. I remember beating on his chest out of sheer frustration and feeling that I was talking at a brick wall...with spikes...and beating my head against it...hard. I was so close to leaving him that night. I remember staring at my engagement ring and wanting to give it back, but not wanting to give up the idea of being married, I think. I had worked too hard to get to that point, I wasn't going to stop then. That was a mistake, and one I hope I never make ever again. I truly believe that I stopped loving him a long time before all this. I got through on habit and sheer force of will. I forced it all to happen. Mea culpa.

There is one thing I will never forget, and I never want to forget. The moment I knew that I couldn't be with Tim anymore is one I will never forget. It changed my life and at the moment, I was incredibly happy. The moment was two-fold. On one hand, my mind-set switched from an "if" or a "when scenario. The moment I realized that, everything I ever felt for Tim was gone. My heart was so incredibly full and I was content. The logistical aspect of making sure I was sure and that it wasn't some random whim eventually set in, and that wasn't quite as fun and had consequences that I'm not over yet. But in that one moment, I knew peace and tranquility and happiness. I've been through so much since then. More than I ever want to experience ever again. Many things that have left deep wounds that will need time and care to heal. Despite that, I've reached a good point in my life-an amazing point. I've become the person I used to be before I used tim and his mother as my crutches. I'm an independent woman, and I love that feeling. I know who I am. I know what I am. I am strong, I am a survivor. I can make it I'm, not on my meds, yet for the most part, I feel the way I did when I was taking them. It boggles my mind. I'm living a life that is wonderfully stress-free. On top of that lack of stress, I'm happy. I'm finally happy. My life sparkles most days. It doesn't sparkle because of anything that's forced, but because I just can't make it NOT sparkle. I'm actually happy most days. Of course there are days when I get grumpy. But I always get a message that makes me smile like a moron while I'm walking down the street attempting to put on grumpy face so people leave me alone. I love it. I love the person that I am, without the sparkle. I wasn't always happy before my sparkle came, but I respected myself and I was very proud of the person I'm becoming. But my life has a new dimension and I just can't help being in a wonderful mood.

Now I'm going to eat my dinner and go read legal stuff and be a nerd :)

Monday, May 16, 2011

in which the experiences of a childcare professional are recounted.

I've been reading a lot of Dickens lately and he has such snappy chapter titles. I shall borrow from him.

So following in everyone else's footsteps, I've created fictional names for the family where I nanny. Aaron and Rebecca are the parents with the little guy (rather misleading, he's near 23 lbs...) Julian and their trusty neurotic pooch.....Kujo.

Julian is almost 13 months. He neither sleeps through the night, nor in his own bed when he is sleeping at night. At least not from 2am on when he wants to come snuggle with Rebecca.

I started here when Julian was 4 months old. At that time, Aaron's mother, Betsy, was pushing Rebecca and me to start using the "cry it out" method of getting him to sleep on his own. When he took naps with me, he would sleep on my chest, which was nice and snuggly, but I also couldn't do anything else. It also meant he got in several 2 or so hour long naps. Rebecca said Julian was too young to have him cry constantly without comforting him and he wouldn't understand what was going on, just that his needs weren't being met. Fine. (Unless you're Betsy) a few months back, rebecca started saying we should be trying to get Julian to sleep in his rather expensive crib before he outgrew it and they had to convert it into a bed. Fine. Here's the problem. When we put him in the crib, he cried and screamed. For a little while, I had decent luck with having him fall asleep on me and then I'd lay him in his crib, but then he got sick a few times and the rhythym of it got broken up. When I would go to put him down, even when he was asleep, he would wake up. Incredibly frustrating. Rebecca and Aaron weren't having much better luck during the night either. Julian also still wants to nurse at night, which the pediatrician is saying he should be done with by....15 months I think? I can't remember exactly, but soon.

Soon after Julian turned 1, Rebecca finally caved and said he needed to be sleeping in his own bed all the time, let's go for some tough lovin! The new idea is to let them cry for certain intervals of time which get progressively longer. At each interval, you go in the room and soothe the baby, but don't pick them up. Comfort but don't give in and then wait longer til eventually the baby passes out from exhaustion and crying like crazy. I have seen this method work. Problem. Julian has a stubborn streak. It includes but is not limited to how he falls asleep and such. It used to be I would try to sit while attempting to get him to sleep and he would start screaming if I sat down. I had to stand. (The havoc wreaked on my back? Not good....) I am thoroughly convinced that if I left Julian in his crib screaming for hours on end, he would never give up and go to sleep. It would take passing out from exhaustion first. He pulls himself up into a standing position on the side of the crib and cries. Sometimes he'll be quiet and lay there if you're in the room with him. Sometimes not. I'm also fairly convinced that during the day when Aaron or Rebecca go to check on him instead of me, he gets less likely to go to sleep. Its a special thing to see them during the day. Me not so much. I'm normal and routine. After they leave, I sometimes feel like I have to start the whole process over because he's been energized by seeing mommy or daddy. Don't get me wrong, I like them both, but even just seeing them gets him excited and understandably so. Julian also began to develop the habit of climbing on me and having me walk around carrying him when he got really tired and then passing out while I'm walking. I'd then put him in his bed, but it allowed him to avoid the unpleasant falling asleep in bed routine that he's not so fond of. He also wakes up perhaps half an hour later cranky and not ready to be awake. I would pick him up and he immediately fell back asleep. Then I try to put him down in bed and monkey grip and screaming ensued. The choices then are to let him sleep on me or start the crying screaming process again which Rebecca and Aaron aren't fond of especially since they work downstairs and sound travels... I don't like hearing it either and he loses good nap time. He usually then only sleeps another half hour or so. Its been a long process and we're still not at the end. I'm hoping for the day when he squawks for a few minutes and then is asleep. I know children are capable of this feat, I've seen it! Just apparently Julian isn't a fan.

I don't know if we had started this process when he was younger if it would have made a difference. I remember Rebecca saying she had tried it when he was younger and it didn't work. He knows what he wants and he knows how to get it. But was Betsy right? Just let him cry on end at 4 months and he would magically be sleeping through the night in his own bed? I don't know. She did it with Aaron she says. Four months seems so young, but now, Julian is standing there crying and I think if he lay down and screamed, he might fall asleep better. Standing and sleeping don't go well...been there done that.. I also don't think that just because something worked well for one child or many children, doesn't mean another child will respond the same way to it. I've enever taken much of a position on crying it out. I've seen kids that it worked fine with and some that went to sleep other ways. Julian is different than either set I've seen. But he's getting oolder. From a purely practical standpoint, I can't keep carrying him and rocking him all the time. He's a big boy as is and he's only going to get bigger. He's old enough now to be in his bed. And to kep himself awake by standing. I also wonder if going back in at all (barring obvious signs of distress) is maybe disruptive because it perhaps makes them think they're being picked up and held. Is not going in better or worse than a visible refusal to accede to their desire to be picked up?

The issue can be further complicated by dear Kujo. He likes to growl and bark at sometimes non-existent things outside. Julian wakes up and it makes everything a bit more difficult. He means well. I appreciate that he likes to protect us all from the invissible attackers, ups, fed-ex, mail carriers and such, not to mention those awful people who park in front of the house. Neurotic but loveable... I just happen to be less appreciative when it wakes up Julian. I may get to spend a week or so with the nut this summer if the family goes on vacation. Betsy and her husband could theoretically take him, but Rebecca said she would rather he stayed in the house instead. I like the idea personally. I enjoy Kujo. I may just have a thin for nuts, but he's my buddy. He also seems to behave better when I'm here. Weird.

In other news, I saw Julian's first steps. And then a few hours later, I watched him take his first steps that anyone will know about in their family. I decided it might be a jerk move to yell down the stairs, hey Rebecca! Julian just took his first steps!!!!! Thank goodness it was the same day, cuz I was pretty excited about it. He also was being held by Rebecca and as I was leaving Friday stretched out and wanted me to take him it was pretty sweet. He got a kiss. I bribe. He smiled at me when I came in this morning, which was a first too. Usually he just stares at me..

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

The Lost Weekend

Ok so that title is misleading, but I was in the mood for a random Lennon reference! I got back from Ohio/West Virginia around 5am monday morning. I feel like I should maybe post here more. I'm rarely on my computer these days though and I never think about posting much. Its like Facebook. When it isn't in front of my face (no pun intended) I just don't think of it. I've been off Facebook since the end of March. I was given a moth to go back. I'd have to miss it and I just don't. The pro's just don't outweigh the cons. I wasted so much of my time, contributed so little of anything important and had few people I enjoyed following. I just don't get much return here, though I do enjoy following posts. I've now added the blogs on here to my RSS feed, so I can actually follow people and maybe actually comment *gasp* so. On to the evaluation of my weekend.

The baby's mom asked how it went. My answer is "long, short; good, bad".I Loved being "home" they loved having me there. Even party pooper Matthew. (I think) he was at least nice when I was crying because I had to leave. Its a wonderful feeling to be somewhere that you fit and are loved and accepted. Its what family should be. Of course I avoided any scene by taking out my piercings and covering my ink. But I'd still be loved then, just her mom would have been so sad and upset and sad. I avoided that (I think) I didn't get to spend much time with the family. Mostly just steph, which was good, but I mised everyone else. I didn't like being with her loser boyfriend. I ended up getting in his face and bitching him out. He deserved it fully. He ruins so much with his whining and immaturity. Blah. He and steph went out saturday after she graduated. I would have gone too, but I was busy having needles repeatedly jammed into my flesh. I got a new tat. Its a quote from Jane Eyre between my shoulder blades. I've already been stopped and asked to be read several times... "Can I read you?" *sigh* I've also learned fast to say its from a 200 year old book. Jane eyre gets blank stares... Sad state of reading habits... I also got the equivalent of four tattoos done in one evening/morning. In concept its great, not to mention sounds badass (though only my wrists hurt....they're enough pain to make up for the other two though) its turned out to be a dumb idea. I shall tell you why. Part of the glorious healing process for tattoos is a wonderful time when they itch like crazy but you can't scratch, because it will possibly ruin the design.... Fine. Except it happens all at once to four of them.... And you end up like me and people think you're a loon for smacking at your back and your explanation is "its new" and then realizzing they may not actually see that there's anything there.... Yay. Then I rubbed my nose a lot. Oops. Nehoo, so I'm dealing with being rather itchy atm... Fun stuff. Worth it though. The artist was great, especially since there was potential for this to be quite awkwad. I didn't exactly plan my wardrobe very well and while wearing the tank top it covered the section he wouldbe working on. Draw your own conclusions.... There's also a chance that I have some punctuation errors since I kept forgetting to bring my copy of jane eyre that I lugged down specificaly for this purpose!! But let's hope spark notes is good :) it looked right. I know the quote itself is. So then the guy went over my other three tats completely. And attempted to fix one of them :) it wasn't "wrong" before, just not as close to my original concept. For all of you who know my fEelings abbout needles, let me proudly say I didn't cry grimace or hold any hands. Though I thought about it when he said he was going to hurt me. He went extra deep with the white, trying to make it extra super white. It was ok. Actually it hurt like crazy, but deep breathing is awesome! I'm fairly sure my father has noticed my latest ink. Youte not supposed to let much rub against it, so tanks for me! That also brings into question the sun exposure issue. *sigh* so many things to think of!

So I haven't been back to ohio since steph's dad's funeral. Going back made it real all over again. I sobbed to steph about it. The house felt so empty without him. I miss him. He should have been there and would have been so proud of steph. Her mom told me she loved me several times and wanted me to stay and live there. I'd love to live near them. I'd also have to hide so much. Again. Maybe I'll aim for AZ. I can dream....

When I saw steph at the airport, I gave probably the most enthusiastic greeting since I was a child. Running (while remembering to hold luggage lest I be mistaken for a crazed terrorist) screeching and flying arms. And almost luggage. I'm fairly sure people thought we were nuts. Thankfully it was West Virginia. They're all nuts. We went to visit steph's sister at the mall where she works. I discovered steph's lack of stealth. I was great and almost got to her unseen (crouching, finger gun poised and ready.) Steph popped her head up and all was lost. But it was fun. I saw the orangest person of my life who also had the worst accent I've heard. Worse than any other redneck accent you've heard. Ever. I barely held in my laughter. I shook hands with a girl at a store because in MD, her counterpart doesn't speak english. She was shocked. Then we went to get our nails done. Of course THEY were Vietnamese... *sigh* the one place I expected to find white people doing nails and nope.... Steph and rachael were on the verge of searching for a shop with white people i decided it was ok though...

i got to play with steph's brother's new guns :) we dueled. sort of. it was fun. and i played with the weapons in the tattoo shop. klingon weapons anyone? Its sharp! I had a blast. I wish I'd had a longer time though. I really miss all of them. I hope I can see them before rachael leaves for navy training. That's in november, so cross fingers! I'm keeping all the jewelry that hides my piercings and the wristbands I got to cover my wrists. Hopefully I'll have to use them again soon. If only my brother and sister-in-law and nephew would come visit.............. Not a hint or anything.... *nudgie nudgie poke poke*

Steph left today for her special european tour with poopface aka her boyfriend. He wouldn't shut up about everything they were going to see. Like the louvre (or loo as he says I think unaware of the difference between a loo and a museum...) He pissed me off. It didn't make the bitching out I gave him any less severe, I can tell you that. I think I completely shocked him. I know this is surprising, but it takes a lot to make me angry enough that I'm in your face yelling. I was so close to slapping his beaver face. I didn't think my excuse of aggravated assault would hold. I was aggravated though! He was backing off as far as his car seat let him. And didn't have the guts to text me himself to say I should have let them drive me home so we could work it out and that he didn't cry and that he was sorry for being bitchy. It felt really good after I was done shaking like crazy. I don't have much experience yelling anymore. Leaving home magically enabled me to be even-tempered. I could have even decided not to yell at him. He needed it though. Two years over-due. I let him off with a one-fingered salute then that he may not have seen....

I wish I'd gotten to go out with poop face and steph for her graduation. It wouldve been fun. I haven't been out in at least a year. It would be more fun with steph than with charlotte. *sigh* I got into the shop around 1030.... I didn't leave until maybe 2ish at the earliest. Then we ate an.....early breakfast? And I nearly saw a guy get tased. Ah west virginia.... I'm glad he was handcuffed when we left. I was good though during my inking and didn't laugh too hard when eric (the artist) was needling. It would have been bad. I kept telling him not to make me laugh. Apparently no one remembered me. Well one guy did, eventually but he has a weir memory ability. I confused a guy that was waaay out of it though. He came up to the owner of the shop as we were talking outside and said he would give his lighter to anyone who gave him a cigarette. So the owner gave him one but showed off his cool lighter. So I asked for the lighter instead. I used the word "proxy" I confused him... I got the lighter, but the poor fellow mumbled something about what a crazy world it is and I said yeah...waay trippy man. He just looked at me like I spoke latin to him. Good times. Then I left the lighter....

I believe I have rambled enough. I hate that I can't see anything on the screen so if I'm typo-filled, I'm sorry!!! And I ramble too much....

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Good Times

So I'm on the metro on my way home from work and if I don't get this out, I may break into a happy dance and that would totally ruin my cool (ok really I just don't want the police to sic the bomb-sniffing dogs on me cuz I'm acting suspiciously...) I'm in an incredibly wonderful mood so here goes...... EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Translated as high pitched squeal of glee!!!!!!) I'm going home then finishing my packing and the? In the morning? I'm getting on a bus. Then I'm headed down to national airport and flying out to west virginia!!!!!!!!!! I'm going home. Really home. I nearly started singing and dancing on a crowded metro car.... Just barely stopped myself in time :) apparently steph's mom wants to make me something special for dinner so I got quizzed on my favourite dinner and dessert. I had to ask for suggestions on the dessert.... Key lime pie anyone? :) and steak... Om nom nom. I feel so special. This is why I adopted them as family. They feel like a real family to me. How a family should feel. Its wonderful. I teared up. Her brother is going to go through my massive list of video games I'm curious about and shall give me guidance on them :) I'm also completely nerded out. I found a necklace from one of my favourite games and bought it. Yup. Nerd. Me. I love it!!!! Ok. I'm done now. Too much exuberance and I can't see what I'm typing on my phone cuz its stupid :)

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Whence Cometh My Help?

So once again, it has been quite a long time since I posted last. It seems a slight moot point to post (can I use 'moot' that way??) Since anyone seeing this, likely knows what's going on in my life anyways. The world has turned around almost one whole turn since the last anniversary of my birth. I don't like my birthday. I've only had one where I didn't end up miserable. Though even that one had a major disappointment, but by far, my 21st was my favourite. Nothing better than doing milk shots in the back of a pharmacy and drinking your co-workers under the table. Sometimes being a lactaholic has its perks... It looks like my birthday will consist this year of going to work and possibly getting various chunks of flesh nearly ripped off and playing a very disappointing video game during naps. Then I'll head home and probably stop by my local Starbucks and sit and drink my drink. Then head home and feel like passing out. Ah the Gamour!granted the people of Starbucks are all very nice. I'm sitting here now. They almost all know my drink. Slightly pathetic in a sense, but they're fine enough. I really feel like going out and doing something this year. But I don't know anyone that I could go do stuff with. I'm sure I could persuade the people I used to go to high school with to do something, but in all honesty, I don't like them. They're all younger than me, which is fine, or would be if they didn't act as if they were stuck in high school still. Playing around with a giant stuffed penis is fine when you're 14. When you're 21-23? Its pathetic. I generally just ignore their calls and texts. I'm become quite adept at the practice. I doubt they notice much. When I left public school, they rarely ever tried to contact me. Out of sight, out of mind. I have no one here. The person I'm closest to and really can truly call a friend is several states away. I miss my Boo Boo. She's so far away. I feel so alone a lot of the time lately. In a sense, I would rather be alone and have a dull existence than surround myself with people of whom I think little and that don't really care about me. I find that I'm only really around people when they need something. I'm the useful person that helps with everyone's problems, but that no one really thinks of much beyond that. Its a bit sad, but its what I've seen. Perhaps I should go on being duped and having people around me, but I don't see the point. I have little patience with people that I don't care about and that is the vast majority of the people that I am around. They don't ever realize that I don't like them. I'm good at hiding my feelings. A bit too good at it. Oddly enough one of the signs of being self-actualized is having few friends, essentially. Thank you Abraham Maslow for that bit of validation. Hey I'm lonely, but I'm self-actualized! Huzzah!!! I'm actually rarely lonely, just alone. I don't even have little furry things around me anymore. I should miss them more than I do. I'm so used to giving up pets that its just another one. I feel so numb and dead inside sometimes. I often know what my feelings are, but I refuse to feel them. I block them out. Its a coping mechanism and a very effective one. I'm so adept at these mechanisms. I suppose I ought to be by now. I've had a lifetime of practice and now at least I can analyze myself and figure out what is going on. I'm such a good self-therapist. If only everyone were so good, the therapists of the world would be out of business! I do need therapy at some point because there are some things I'm simply not able to deal with on my own. One day, perhaps. Until then. I will continue to just hope the feelings pass and just lapse into survival mode frequently. I've been in varying stages of survival mode for over a month now. I'm tired of it. I wish sometimes that I had never met Tim. If I hadn't, perhaps I wouldn't have been in the position that I am now emotionally. A lot of 'what ifs' I haven't gotten around to writing him his letter tearing him apart. I need to get around to doing it, but its going to cost me a lot emotionally. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that quite yet. I'll also have to fiund a way to disguise my writing since I'm mailing it to hi.m. It would be a shame if I wrote a long letter berating him and tellng him what a terrible person and boyfriend he was if he isn't going to read it. I plan to keep a copy though like I did with shirley's. I'm so disgusted when I think of my time with him. I wish I'd never dated him. He makes me sick to my stomach. Perhaps I'm being too harsh, but its how I feel. I see no reason to hide it. I've been good and not given in to my evil urges to damage the car... I'm a good girl, I am... I also didn't flip off Shirley when I saw her....but she also didn't see me...maybe? I saw Tim's sister yesterday and contented myself with just looking archly at her. I thought of asking how her famiy was, but I didn't. She didn't say anything to me, but I didn't expect it. I'm sure she told everyone she saw me though. Good. I'm not hiding. I'm so angry with them all. Except Brian. I pity him. He gets no support from his family.

I wish I had more support at times. I feel so very alone. I don't understand why my life is the way that it is. I've always tried to be the best person I know how to be. I help people, often when I don't like them or don't want to. Its who I am and that doesn't change. Why must I be alone and without anyone? I feel as if I deserve it. I've done nothing to deserve so many things that have gone wrong in my life. Why don't I have the good things in life that I want? Why can't I have what I need? I don't understand. It isn't a 'why me?' Concept, but a longing for more and not understanding why I don't have it when I've done nothing to deserve otherwise. Perhaps I'm damaged goods. I've thought of that. According to my father's reckoning of tim, I must be. If tim is damaged goods, I must be a wrecked packaged. Mangled flesh. My consolation is found in going on long walks and blocking out my thoughts which flow too freely. I can't wait until I start school again. I need to have my brain occupied in something. I need to be learning and doing. I feel so stagnant.