sick from the shoulders up

I’m either going crazy, or my time of death is near. Or it would be if fate were smidgen kinder than it has been. So far fate has kept me alive, but not much more than that. I’ve been thinking a lot about death these days. I just see no future for myself. And it could be for a number of reasons- perhaps this is a side effect from the drugs. My little brother has reported strong depression after his adderall wears off. It could be over work. The last couple weeks I’ve been non-stop between animaid and work and I have not kept up my promise to start leaving work at 5 instead of 7. Of course, that too could be a contributor of the internal agony- I dislike myself for still being here with Howard my boss. I feel like a sell-out and a failure. first because I couldn’t find work in the time allotted to me during that month of time I was on ‘two weeks notice’. The one perfect job for me- I don’t know. It’s gone. I thought I had it. I could smell it and yet they over looked me. Was that my fault? Did I not do something I should have? I thought I did everything right and somehow I failed. That great miracle I thought would be my future and my happiness, my employment dream come true at last… gone. And I don’t have anyone to blame but me. So I don’t like myself. I failed again and I don’t know now where I shold go or what dreams I have. I agreed to stay here for the *money*. How pathetic. I never cared about money really before. I thought if I worked hard and did my due diligence that I would be rewarded. But I’m still here. And the only way I earn this “bonus” is by again enslaving myself to this stupid phone working for a commission. I hate commissions. I don’t want to strap myself to the grace of others and the luck of the draw. Luck and fate are not my friends and I obviously don’t have the skills to get what I want.

I see a future of insufferable mediocrity as clear as day. A rental home with a man I settled for. Working as a career assistant struggling from paycheck to paycheck always being frugal and worried and hungry. I can’t decorate so my house will be full of cheap make-shift decorations I invented. My children will be like me- disappointed with life even though I see that strong McDonald fire in them. Luck won’t favor them either. And I won’t have anything to give them because I was a failure too. And I won’t be able to give them snacks when they come home from school or spend way too much money on fabric to sew them what they want to be for Halloween. And everyday my husband and I will worry about retirement and to top it off, I’ll never go to Japan. It’ll never be convenient enough. I’ll never have the time. and in time, I won’t think about it anymore and that dream will die too. It’ll just be a part of reality like everything else- just another thing out of my reach.

So maybe you can grasp now why death seems so appealing right now. Don’t worry- I’m not shopping for rope or scopeing out where I can get guns or pills or eyeing knives. Being LDS, I know that even if I did die, life would still ‘go on’ for me and I’d have to still face my mistakes in life.

Of course this might ALL stem from being sick. My joints ache, my glands are swollen and bruised. My throat feels like it’s split vertically from the inside so it hurts to swallow. My head aches and my fingers are stiff. The new guys in my office are always so close to me and my desk and they are loud and try to talk to me. They brought in a fan today and that constant drone makes it hard to think. And it makes it cold. On top of which, one of the idiots in my office has expressed an interest in me when everyone else is gone. This is not the time to be trying to get on my good side guy. I’m feeling worn and sick and confussed. You’re flirting with me will only make me resent you.

That is one this I should write about. When girls feel sick- no matter how much she might like you, it’s not a good time to make a move. It might be a good time to step in and take care of her- one don’t step one toe over the line of asking for anything in return. That might mean unintentionally asking her to look cute or clean her house when you want to come to take care of her. Or maybe that’s just me. When I feel sick I don’t appreciate a kindness that requires me to get out of bed and be a good hostess. I just want to be sick and crumple up on the couch in my pjs with my hair nasty and sweaty. Having the stress of someone I want to impress in the room is NOT helpful.

Chris came over to help me once when I was so sick it was really more of an episode. When I tried to pass out so the pain would subside in unconsciousness, he knelt beside the couch and watched me try to sleep. As if I could do it with someone studying me in my total misery. If I had had any energy at that moment, I might have struck out and slugged him in the face. Instead I asked him to go away. He just retreated to the other couch and waited until I woke up.

A few weeks ago steve Anderson came over when I had a brief cold after my failed Charity to Japan event that got rained out. He brought me homemade bread. Luckily, I was already dressed in pjs and moderately presentable so I allowed him inside with the promise that once he delivered it, he’d go away and let me sleep. Even though I don’t like wheat bread or honey, I didn’t say anything and let him be kind. He stayed and talked to me while I ate. Not exactly our agreement but whatever. It was okay. But I think my feeling still stands. If you’re going to take care of someone, think about their needs, don’t only serve what you want to give. It’s nice, but… yeah.

Ow. Taking Tylonol. Why does everything have to hurt all at once?

little bullies

My youngest brother is a big kid. I mean, he’s chubby but he’s BIG. Taller than me and only 13. Kid has some massive density on him likely because of a kidney problem he’s had since birth. But he’s also VERY sensitive and sweet. Great with little kids and babies. Non-athletic and just a kind person. He was getting picked on at school, and you know schools. They can only do so much even if they are protecting kids to the best of their ability. So my parents gave my brother this word of advice: if the kids refuse to stop picking on you place your hands on their chest and PUSH. Don’t hit, just push.

You wouldn’t believe it. A teacher reported that he did just that. Some cruel kids were beating on my brother. So he put his hands on one of them and PUSHED, and with his density and previously untapped power the bully fleeeeeeeeeeeeew. XD Just once- and that’s all it took. Not one more fight since. And my little brother has been able to be the sweet boy he is inside since.

It reminds me of Ender’s game- the first chapter. When a group of bullies pick on Ender and he decides not just to win one battle- but all the rest as well when he still had a chance. So he kicks the main bully hard enough and juuuust frequently enough to put him on the ground- unwittingly killing him later on.

I kinda like the comparison that all my little brother had to do was one strong push, and the war was over.

Now if we can only improve his fine motor skills and communication skills along side his focus issues.

I'm lame. No srsly.

I have this problem perhaps you can relate.

I’m not cool enough. And by that I mean I make myself lame though whatever paranoia, laziness, or distaste possible.

So a few of my friends are going to this thing tonight that I’m invited to. A Kind of acoustic guitar, vocals, cello and whatever else they throw together. Sounds cool right? I have no desire to go. My instincts say I have too much work to do and I should be at home using my few precious hours to focus on applying for work. This job I have leaves no time for me to apply and if I ever plan anything in the evenings, it’s right after work (with sometimes no time to even pretty up) and lasts until I collapse into bed with my clothes on. So I literally have to make the choice with my time- stay home to give myself the chance to fail or succeed at being responsible.

I think most people can pick up and do things like this because they organize their time better. They say, “Hey, I can go out. I need a break anyway.” I rarely say that to myself. I don’t take breaks. I just go out when I feel a gap in time and an excess in funds.

But truth is, even if I wasn’t doing anything serious, I’d think something was. Ohhh man, I need to clean my room. Or I have been going out too much I need to save money. The truth is, if it was something I really wanted to do with people I was interested in or ones that made me feel comfortable (going out still makes me nervous) I would probably go. But I don’t want to. I do feel uncomfortable. I do feel ugly today. I would rather be by myself at home to watch youtube.

I’m lame. I’m a lame person. A homebody. A loser. A shut in. Otaku. Dork. Introvert. Fearful. Whatever.


And now you know.

Monster Girl

So I have this thing. I feel like a monster.
Have you ever felt that way? Like a monster?
I must be. When I look at the world, I must see it differently from other people because when they talk about it, it’s not at all what I see. And somehow I’m the one who ends up wrong. So I must be the villain in this story. Not the hero, not the princess. But a baby dragon that has to be tamed like her mother never was.

So my mom really activated her Bi-polar disease around the time she had her third child- a few years younger than I am now. Dad and I monitor my moods and thoughts to make sure that if that ever happens to me, I won’t destroy my already delicate life. But generally it’s brough on by a huge emotional upheaval- like childbirth.

On a semi- related note, my eye has been twitching when I get stressed lately. Some time last week it was tweaking like crazy. I felt like I was having a neurological issue. Just too da*n much to think about these days. I can’t seem to sort anything out. and now I’m answering questions with the first that comes to mind- which might not be the entire truth. I’m terrified I’m going to do something wrong. Like I’m out of control. Perhaps far the directing guidance of the spirit.

Why can’t I get back to work? I can’t seem to get myself to stay on track for long.

My friend Jeremy and I are drifting apart. I’m sure I’m starting to bug him. Although I’m as sure of how that is happening just about as much as I knew why he bothered to hang with me to being with. Aka- I have no idea.

You know every valentines day I don’t really care. Admittedly I get a big disappointed, but nothing awful. I’ve never had a boyfriend over valentines day and I don’t intend to have one this year. But then, within the last year I’ve had a lot more drama and activity going on in that area. And I even got flowers last year. I hate to try to compare but I’m positive according to the way I’ve been feeling lately, that I’ll be sad this year. For whatever reason, someone I want can’t be with me. So I’ll sit at home and think about him.

It’s funny. I’m not even allowed to be proud of myself anymore. nothing I ever do Is enough. All I want to do is go home, sleep, and wake up to work and try again. Not because I love it but because I can’t stand this failure. I know it must be my period talking. I am feeling and thinking things that are unexplainable. Am I hungry or worried or sick or dizzy? I want to see to make all this go away. It’s like wanting to commit suicide without the thought ever crossing your mind. Just this urge to end the confusion. There is no end to this fight and no reward for doing well. that’s why I have to get out. I’m not a drone enough to be able to emotionally survive on this. Jeremy says I’m ungrateful. I’m glad I have a job, but is it so much to ask for something right for me? Not just any job? Gonna call dad to share my crazy.

Well dad says I have nothing to be ashamed of. And nothing to apologize for. whileI recognize I still could have handled things better, until I’m away from aunt flo, I’m going to cling to that. And he still thinks I can get a new job. I better get on that asap.

Also rusty got drugs the day of. I want drugs the day of…

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

My eye is twitching these days about decisions to make.
What do you think?
Should I fight this awk middle length to have Long hair? Should I even be asking? Should I keep this blog? Or make it private at last?
Should I go to the movie tonight, ice-skating with the ward, or gather to celebrate aino’s birthday when, I really don’t feel like doing anything at all.
And other stuff I can’t talk about.
Maybe I just have too many options. Need to close some of them off.
But what I wouldn’t give to be outside today. But If I had the day off, I’d probably spend it in bed with the blankets over my head and Spencer the bear crunched up in my face.

“I am Beautiful Day”

SO I just got invited to a Fb event called “I am Beautiful Day”- a day where women celebrate how beautiful they are. I didn’t read the whole description but I bet they mean both inside and out. and that every girl is pretty and unique in her own way.

Ignoring the idea that I don’t find myself very beautiful and that there are many women who shouldn’t ‘flaunt what they “got”’, I also have to consider that though there must be a % of people from the about 12,400 people attending this that are no so pretty on the inside either.

Some of the kinds of women who go to these kinds of events are essentially celebrating themselves. 12,400 people who have chosen to join such an event- not because they have self esteem issues, but exactly the opposite. They think enough of themselves to say, “Yeah! I am beautiful! Let’s do that! I’d like to celebrate me!”

It brings to my mind an image of women much like the one who invited me to the event- self indulgent, lazy, and unfortunately ugly woman- inside and out. I can see masses of them sun bathing and fanning themselves on “I am Beautiful day” putting their noses up at the hired help and bashing the skinny girls in the magazines they bought to learn tips on how to manipulate your man into being the Romeo you always wanted. Maybe shouting ‘YOU GO GIRL’ at each other.

Here is what I think they should be celebrating: Let’s be Beautiful Day. How about being kind and understanding and patient? That’ll make you feel beautiful.

Look, I know the importance of *feeling* pretty from time to time. I don’t mind feeling pretty (until someone says it out loud. Then I get all kinds of shy >///<). But in truth, I’ll put on sexy underwear or long socks to walk around in to feel pretty from time to time. I get the effort here. And I can’t condemn their attempts in any way. I’m sure it’ll be good for someone to remind themselves that all hope is not lost. I’m only commenting on what came to mind when I read it. And that image is now stuck in my head enough to convince me not to join “I am Beautiful Day”.

Yes

Ssometimes I think I really want a boyfriend because then, I would never ever have to say 'no' to him.
I could say, "I'm sorry" to everyone else, but not to him. I think I want to be the kind of girlfriend who always says 'yes'.

Like my parents. When they held their first grandchild my dad said the line he'd be aching to for years-

"My name is Grandpa and this is the last time you'll ever hear this from me- 'no.'"