14 posts tagged “life”

I recently looked at what I used to write. It was surreal to be real. Looking back at a time when I would have given anything for some self satisfaction, and got it from objectifying myself with the standards that I set for myself. I sabotaged my entire life from a young age, and it was a habit that's been very hard to break.

I get rough sometimes, I cry about it, but I've got to step up to the game or I'm bound to fall. I am not a superhero, I'm not a hero, I'm not even a very good person, but I'm getting by. We all know how it is to not be able to catch your breath, to be doomed into the churning waters of our lives. I used to say that "I am not my mother," but now I wish that I was strong and humble like my mother. I spent so much time not trying to be things that I took steps to not be myself.

I do not care if I love popular music, or if I'm influenced by what magazines tell me. I do not care if I have been brain washed. I do not care if I believe that we have to help each other, and let ourselves go. An idea, I have, was used by the nazis. So what? I am not a Nazi, I am filled with love for every man and woman. I want to help them all, but I accept that not everyone wants to be helped. I don't want to be helped.

It's coming to be the new year. Resolutions, I've never really considered. I say I have them, I really don't. It's not so bad in the end. The point is not about reaching any certain goal, because sometimes things make then unattainable, and I don't want anything hovering to make me feel bad. I just want to do my best. I was failing a class recently, and I felt pretty awful about it. So, I took the steps.

Keep moving forward.

Things have been rough, and if I didn't have some kind of release, I would die. A terrible death. To be sure. I don't know what I'm doing with my life, exactly, but I know where it's going... kind of.

I'll say one thing that has bothered me to no end lately, though. It's that people judge me based on my choices in life to make myself and the world around me better. Like I'm personally affecting their lives. No, I don't drink. Sorry. I've chosen to avoid damaging my liver. I have drank before, it wasn't fun. You drink? Well, that's cool, what do you like to drink? No? No, I'm not judging you. No, I don't care what you drink. No, I don't drink, I was making conversation. LOOK I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHY YOU DRINK JUST SHUT UP. There's no great moral reason for drinking, if you enjoy it? GREAT! I'M GLAD YOU ENJOY IT!

This will also inevitably go into work. :Talking with a parent: Well, I'll tell you what, the last time I got as drunk as I was last night, I ended up with H here.

Oh.
"What?"
Nothing.
"You don't like drinkin?"
Naw, I just don't drink.
"Oh, well I do, not like it affects me or nothin."
I'm sure it doesn't, anyway, H has been doing great lately....
"Are you judging me?"
No.
"I think you are!"

What I really want to say is "You just told me that your daughter was the product of a drunk night. I am not entirely comfortable with this, and I'm sure the 12 other children that heard it, aren't either.

There's also the people that think that since I don't associate myself with them, that I think that I'm better. It's not the case. I very truly and honestly don't care what you do to yourself, as long as it doesn't affect my own life. You want to smoke crack? Fucking awesome. Get out of my neighborhood while you do that.

What? I don't think it's funny to say nigger? No, I certainly don't. What? You do? Oh, because black people can do it, no no you're absolutely right, you're allowed to say whatever you want. Free Speech. Yes, yes. Just don't say it in my house.  Better yet! Let's not say it around me at all!

I am the least tolerant person that I know. I cannot stand the way we treat each other and ourselves in the name of whatever it is that is damaging our souls. I work with kids, and they say and do the most terrible things, but they must have learned it from somewhere, because it certainly just didn't occur to them to say those things.

Ooh, my heart.
My soul.
My brain.

Ouch.

My desert needs a little rain, anyway. It's starting to get to me.

I've made some good friends over the internet and in roller derby. I'm grateful for the people I know, and have around me. I'm grateful for the man I love, and my family.

Now, if only I always felt like this.

Had Derby practice last night, it was tons of fun, as usual. I think I hurt my fingers, both pointer and middle fingers on each hand. They're both functional, but they hurt like hell, and they're kind of swollen. Probably just jammed them. They both have their normal range of movement too, so I'm not worried.

Last night I got a skate up my ass, it hurt. That's about that.

However, while I love my teammates, I feel as if they don't love me. If that makes sense. A lot of the time it seems that a majority of the girls won't talk to me or don't want to. Whenever I do talk to them I feel like I'm forcing them to. It's confusing, and it's kind of upsetting me. Who am I going to talk to about it though? I work with kids, I know I sound like a baby, when there's probably nothing going on, but it's just how I feel.

There are really only two people who even really talk to me without me talking to them first. I kind of wish I knew what, if anything, I'm doing that puts me in this situation time and time again. It's not a great feeling, to say the least.

Beyond that, I found out yesterday that my dad and my step-mom are probably going to get a divorce. At least, that's what my dad told me. My dad has told me this every year since they got married, 4 years ago. I don't know. They've been together since I was seven, but whatever. I don't know how I feel about this. What are the rules to a divorced step-mom you've known forever?

I feel like even though it was highly volatile it was the most stable home I ever had. Even with all of the insanity that occurred there, it was still home. Who knows. It's not like my step-mom would cut me out of her life. Listen to me, I'm twenty-two years old and I'm being a cry baby. haha.

When I was younger I wouldn't have cared. It would of just floated off my back in the general sense of interconnectedness and cruelty of the world at large. Now, especially since I moved out and started paying my bills, I realize the the world is just targeting me in general. When it rains, it pours.

It's always pouring somewhere.

I told my mom something last night on the way home from practice, that I probably shouldn't have. Now she's really upset. I didn't mean to do it, honestly. It just came out, and while it doesn't bother me in the sense of what happened, it should. She was extremely upset. She said she was sorry, but it wasn't her fault. I think on some level I think that it was my fault, and since I've accepted that I'm a fuck up in general, this really doesn't bother me. I've messed up my life and my fiance's life, but I keep trying even if it is pretty pointless.

The man's NYE event fell through, I thought there was going to be some serious trauma, he's been going through some stuff with his friends. He's okay though, a lot better than I thought he would be.

But, like I've always said.

We'll figure it out, we always do.

So, it's my birthday Sunday, I'll be turning twenty-two. I'm not too happy about this development, but I guess it will be alright. I've never liked birthdays, but hell, what am I going to do about it? Meh. My mom bought me a coat for my birthday, to which I'm very very thankful, I've needed one so bad. The dogs at the last house I lived at tour mine apart.

She picked it out herself, so I'm kind of concerned about how it looks. My mom used to wear like gold sequined tiger striped bathing suits when I was a kid. Totally would now, too I'm sure.

My dad gave me a hundred dollars, which I'm very thankful right now. I haven't been paid in a month, you see.

My job as a supervisor is coming along, if not smoothly, it's coming along to be sure.

Right now I'm just struggling to meet licensing standards. Angie, my boss has been really receptive to all of the things I want to do in the program, and thinks that they'll be great. As of right now I'm working out how to start a kind of club for the older kids to determine what we need to make the program better, and help them create and put a plan into action.

It should be really great.

I'm also going to be sending an application into advocap, which I'm pretty nervous about. Advocap is a not for profit company that helps to provide transitional housing for people who are victims of domestic abuse. They also help them establish their own housing and sound finances. If I get this job I'll be stoked. As I get older I find that what I need to do and what I want to do are merging closer and closer together.

I feel like a better person having had these jobs.

There's another job with the Candlelight Project. I'm just concerned that it wouldn't be a good placement for me. I was an at-risk teenage girl. I know where they're coming from, but my parents never put me into a group home. Some of these girls are pregnant, and just aren't functioning well. I know that I would love that job, and I'd do my best there, but I don't know if my heart would be able to take it. I have some serious thinking and praying to do.

I'll figure it out, I always do. It's just been so crazy lately. I don't know.

Wow.

Oh!

Teddy and I will be going to Milwaukee for my birthday stuff tomorrow. We're going to go to the apple faire, and do apple stuff, and then we'll be going to SonicVision at the Milwaukee Public Museum. I'm pretty excited, because I've never been to a planetarium before. We might got to III too. Just so that Teddy isn't bored out of his head. haha.

He tried to trick me into going to the Packer's Hall of Fame, granted it would have been hilarious. Yet, it would also be the worst birthday present ever. Hahaha.

I love him.

Yesterday, I came home a day early from Camped Out, I wasn't feeling well. Upon arriving home, I was exhausted, my legs were filthy and my throat was killing me. So, I wash off my legs, and I attempt to take a nap. Of course this cannot happen as my entire body appears to be about to burst into flame.

So, I go to the store to make myself lunch, of course the directions on the bag of my french friends are apparently not for human consumption, and they were charcoal. I ate them anyway.

So, around 10 o'clock I'm like "I really really need a shower," My hair is greasy, I smell, and I think it's making me feel worse. So, I go about my business needed to take a shower. The water, all of it is ice cold. I think "Fuck." assume that it's the neighbors that used all of the hot water and decide to take one tomorrow. I spent the next two hours fucking around watching Stargate for the third time that day. Call Teddy, talk to him.

Attempt to take a shower again. Ice fucking cold. The hot water does not work in this building.

At this point I am greasy haired, filthy, exhausted, sick, and pissed off. I don't know who the fuck to call, and I don't like the front neighbors, they bug me too much. So I try to go to sleep, as I am exhausted. But of course not! Why should I be able to go to sleep?! I'M ONLY SICK! I'M ONLY TIRED! I'M ONLY FREAKING OUT BECAUSE I'M SO TIRED THAT I CAN'T CONCENTRATE.

No, I start having bizarre waking dreams, because I'm so fucking tired that I cannot sleep. At this point it's 3:00am, and I'm miserable. My cat is mad at me because I thought it was a doll, and I tried to pick it up. So, I'm like "I need to fucking sleep, and the only thing stopping me from sleeping is getting a shower." Of course there's no fucking hot water, still.

Why would there be hot water? I mean, we were out of town for two days, that makes sense.

So, I go back to bed, and finally fall asleep.

Cut to 15 minutes ago, where Figgy, my cat, puked all over the couch I was sleeping on, and got it on my arm.

Of course.

Why does this shit always happen to me, and how is it possibly for it to only get worse?

Oh yeah, the fucking water is still fucking freezing. 

I move from Wisconsin next Tuesday, and I'm gone from the midwest next Thursday. This is excruciatingly hard. I hate it here, but it's still my home. My heart is missing a chunk, and I don't know if I'll ever get it back.

I give my whole heart to things, even the bad parts, and I don't know if I'll ever find anyone else who can put that piece back. I love my man with all of the good and bad in my heart. I hope that he finds his peace, and I hope that I find mine.

In other news, Friday was the last day of camp, and this is too funny not to share.

I think that it's time that I give up the ghost.

I feel like I've only lied to myself, which isn't so bad when the lie is working out.

Upon reading a poem recently I've remembered some things about myself that I'd forgotten at some point in my life.

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

"Harlem" Langston Hughes

I am willing myself to make a good decision, but I've never been known to do that. I will suffer at all ending points, but all that matters is that I do what I know in my heart is right... Which unfortunately has nothing to do with any of the ending situations I have brought myself to.

So, the only thing I can do is give up the ghost, look at my options and pray.

I got up this morning, and the world didn't feel right.

I think it's the realization that this isn't a safe place anymore. The world suddenly got a lot smaller, and a lot more clear. It's not as great as one would think it would be.

That's scary.

Today, though, I think that the most scary thing that has ever happened to me, happened. I don't know if I understand what happened, entirely. I know what happened. I just don't understand what happened. It's strange, because I was so worried about L, because he swims so well, but can't tread water. I was watching him so closely. If I had been at any other part of the lake, it wouldn't have been ok.

I was standing on a floating pier in the middle of the lake that we had our field trip at, just to do a head/face check of my kids. To make sure they were with their buddies. S,L, and M were on a paddleboat, they were fine. A, and C were playing on the giant planet thing in the middle of the lake. J and E were making some kind of sand castle/moat thing.

I was so worried about about L drowning, that I just wanted to make sure, and only he and S were on the paddleboat still. M was in the water, I saw him bob under once. Not a big deal, we were swimming. I thought he was swimming. I kept watching to make sure, and he came up again, but this time he was screaming. The kind of scream where you know that it's not going to get better, and he was just thrashing at the water.

In my head it seems like this happened for a long time. I yelled "M?!?!" His eyes were so big, and he was screaming still, and he just went under. He was screaming so loud, I heard him from across the lake.

I looked at the life guard, who was just staring at him from her fucking chair. I was already diving, but I remember feeling sick. I wondered if we would all have to get out of the pool if I threw up. That seems weird now.

I love swimming, I'm good at it. I have a strong stroke. I've never swam fast, I've always been one of those people that just plugs along. My body hurt with how hard I was trying. My body feels like it's melting, my chest hurts. I think I pulled a muscle trying to pull him back into the air.

I don't know how I got there so fast, I was just thinking about how far I thought he was from me.

He was closer than I thought, I think. I crashed into him under the water.  I've never seen someone look so scared.

I am not a strong person. I have no upper body strength. Yet, I somehow managed to pull my 80 lbs camper out of a fucking lake without dying. He wasn't making it easy, either. He's okay, I'm okay. Then he puked up at least a quarter of a gallon of lake water, on me.

I'm not mad though.

In a long time, I am facing a moral dilemma. This probably hasn't happened since I was in middle school. Good choices or bad choices, I've always been able to make them, when they were important. Whether or not they worked in my favor, I was able to make them, and not feel bad about them.

We all fuck up, but does it change when you start affecting other people's lives?

So lately life has been crazy.

We found out... Thursday? That we were not going to have our lease renewed, which sucks, we've been trying to contact our landlord since March to find this information out. So, I guess after camp we will probably move further up north, further into the fucking cold. Oh well, I'm really not upset about it so much as I really just want to move somewhere warm.

We're probably going to sublet for the summer, because I have to work camp this summer. I'm not looking forward to moving, but whatever, what can you do? There are other Y's to work at, but I don't know if they'll have the same programs available in that area. I would really hate to stop working with kids, it really is my life. I'm working with my old kids for the summer, and my heart is __ that close to exploding, and I'm not giving this summer up for anything.

After that, I don't know.

I might babysit for a coworker today, for her little boy DeAvon, who is a super cutie. On the 1st he is going in for surgery on his kidneys, and I'm looking to buy him a present prior to this, so that he has someone to hang out with while healing. He's only 1 years old, so hopefully he'll be okay after this and won't need any more surgeries.

This little boy has problems, but I love him to death. I'm looking to get him an ugly doll, just because I think they're cute as hell.

I've been thinking about leaving Wisconsin lately, thinking about leaving this relationship, apartment, life, and complications all behind. Serious thought. Things never appear to be what they really are at first glance, I suppose. While I knew going into this that it wasn't going to just be a bed of roses, and awesome deliveries of important cake every day; I think that reality still some how eluded me.

I came into this on less than perfect honesty, as I have always been. I've found that when I actually care about people, really really care about them, I pick and choose my brutal honesties for things like "I love you soooo much." I leave it at that. Can you really blame me? Yes, I suppose you can.

When it comes down to most of the problems in my relationship I'm at blame. I know I play t he victim very well, I was a victim for a long time, and I suppose you get used to the role you were given at a young age. And in the words of the immortal Ru Paul, "You've got to work it."

I came here in October of 2003, and coming up on 4 years has been kind of concerning. We became engaged last March, that is, we got engaged after I did some pretty terrible things to him. He did it with all of his heart too, despite the fact that deep down inside I am a terrible monster. I think that if I look deep down inside I know what is wrong with me, and I think that without even looking that hard, I know what is wrong with me too. I try to tell people sometimes, but I often get in the way.

I am a liar, I am a whore, and I am an addict. I can pretend to be better than these things, I can pretend that I'm not really that. It's just years of low self esteem. Honestly, as a kid my esteem wasn't that low. I felt pretty okay about myself, I maybe could have been prettier though.

There.

There are things in your life that you just can't fake. I can fake being understanding. I can fake that a lot of things just don't get to me. I can act like one day I will be a better person, and then I can be honest that I probably won't. It's unfortunate that with all of the "I can do" attitude of the post World War II era, I can't change myself. I read articles, and watch shows about how people change their lives, how people rise up and break new ground; it boggles my mind. If I look at my life only ten years ago, what do I see? I see... an overly skinny eleven year old girl with a few friends (popular friends,) I had a massive overbite, and people called me a buck tooth beaver. One of my best friends, Phillip, told one of them to "Shut the fuck up, before I hit you." I was in love with him at the time. When I brought this up to him many years later, he misunderstood, and thought I meant now. He was rightly weirded out.

Five years ago, I was sixteen, had braces, and was living in Boise, Idaho. No, you da ho. I moved during the summer, so I sat around for three months and sulked. I made friends at Capital High School. Unfortunately, when I moved none of them saw the point in keeping contact. I lied! I didn't have braces, I had my braces off by then! HA! I had a retainer, and it affected my speech. I spoke with a lisp.

That brings me to myself. Right now. I will use adjectives, but I hate them. I like to describe myself like fine cashmere, or a vacuum cleaner or something. I'm arrogant, high strung, volatile, explosive, a mess, neurotic, helpless, and a control freak. It really doesn't matter what I control, I just need to feel in control of something, I think it's why I like video games. While you don't decide what happens, you are in essence, aware of what might happen. I look at my self, and I ask "Would your grandma like who you are?" No, but I have to wonder if she ever did. I sometimes thought I reminded her vaguely of her dead daughter. I'm sorry I never called you when I said I would grandma, I'm so sorry.

The truth I was talking about before, I'll say it now, if I'm not okay with it, I'll just delete it, and will pretend I never mentioned it. How's that for a compromise? I tell people that I don't want to be like my mom, I've told my mom that, but the fact of the matter is that I didn't want to be controlled and hurt by men. I wouldn't submit to them and let them break me down, and beat me up. I didn't want it so bad that I became the total opposite. I beat up the man who loves me the most in the whole world, I berated him in front of friends, family, and God.

The only thing that has ever eaten away at me, is me. I lost a lot of friends, growing up, and I don't think that I can lose that.

It's easy to believe the things that people say when they don't see you anymore, that it's not my fault these things happened, that he doesn't really care that much anymore. They are though, it's all my fault, but the truth is hard to tell when they all just want to be lied to.

So, yeah I've been thinking about leaving, and I don't know if it's a good choice, or not, but as of right now the safest place I've ever been. In all honesty is right next to him. So, I think I'm okay, as long as he's okay with me. If he's not? He'll still be there for me, helping me, picking me up and helping me over the hard stuff.