Minnesota Bound

Mack and I have been planning a trip back to Minnesota for the end of August. I've been looking forward to it all summer- Mack finally meeting my brothers and my dad. Seeing where I grew up. It's important to me.

Unfortunately, the trip has been moved up to this weekend, and Mack isn't going. My aunt passed away and it took some financial scraping and some favors (thanks, again) to be able to afford the train ticket at all. If it would have happened two weeks from now, we would have been fine. But death doesn't work on anyone else's terms so here we are.

And before I even set foot in the state I grew up in, I'm already regretting it. I moved away in the summer of 2007 to chase a dude. It didn't turn out like I expected, and I've been back and forth a few times. Each time I'm back, I'm reminded of why I was so eager to pick up and leave in the first place. I'm the failure of the family. The one who's always broke, always needs something. Whatever.

My mom is the only person out of the whole bunch who has never given me shit for leaving repeatedly, or made any sort of an effort to come see me or be in any sort of regular contact with me. My dad came and saw me before my brain surgery out in Oregon. I got a few calls from my brothers. One from a cousin. As far as the rest of them? Not a word. I don't know if they knew about it or not, I don't think most of my family knows where I'm living now. Most of them didn't show up to my graduation party, the day before I moved to begin with.

I call someone, they're busy and don't call back. Send an email? No response. A snail mail letter? Nope. I send a birthday gift, "Oh, you mean it's the same thing you've already given everyone else?" Yep, sell it on ebay if you don't want it. It's signed. If I hadn't sent it, you'd be bitching about not getting one and everyone else did.

I'm sorry that you're all upset that I had to leave to find personal happiness. And that it had to be with a guy and that I'm not strong enough to do it on my own. I'm sorry that it personally offends you that he makes me feel the way he does. Who puts what he's doing on hold to cheer my depressed ass up. And hasn't gotten sick of it after two years. (Thank you, Mack.)

And I miss you guys. I miss Christmas Eve's with the Clark side. Bonfires at Pops' house. Thanksgiving with my mom. I really do miss that. And no matter what, I still love you.

But I have three pretty kick ass kids that I'm pretty damn attached to. And I finally found a man who isn't passive-aggressive or beat me or treat me like shit whenever he's in the mood to. Who's patient with me when I just want to break down. I'm happier than I was in Minnesota. If you truly cared about me, you'd see that and be happy for me.

And family shouldn't disappear because you moved away. Family shouldn't pretend like you don't exist because of choices you've made in the past. Done something you don't agree with. I moved away to try and find someone to make me happy. I didn't kill anyone, or rob a liquor store for drug money. I'm not some horrible person who should be shunned out of the picture because I don't live down the block. Family shouldn't continue to berate me for past decisions that turned out badly.

But my family does do those things. Why should I surround myself with that? Why would I want to show that to Mack, when he sees what it does to me? Why do I try to defend family members, when he can see the anger and the hurt every time I attempt some form of communication?

Why should I even bother, when it's obvious that I'm just an annoyance?

Funk-central

This shit can suck a big fat one. It started yesterday, and I foolishly thought I was ok. That because I felt it coming, and knew what it was that somehow it wasn't bothering me as much.

But I guess it takes a day to get ramped up. The paranoia, insecurity, all of it. Just crashed down on me like a ton of bricks. The knowing doesn't do jack shit, other than comfort me that sooner or later it will be over. I just want to crawl in to bed and cry. Or punch things. Preferably people. Screaming might be nice, too.

I keep focusing on all the things I hate. Not like "Oh I hate murderers." But things that apply to my life. It's not healthy. I want to take a whole bunch more of my medication than I actually need for my knee. I won't, but it's still there, in the back of my mind. My thoughts aren't coherent tonight, I can't focus on anything. And my fucking hormones are going nuts.

I'm just sad. That's what it boils down to. All the insecurity, all the hatred, everything. It just makes me so goddamn depressed. The writing helps a bit, but not much.

I'm going to go lay down.

Fuck this.

I think I've goto the whole funk thing figured out.

And it feels better knowing part of where it may be coming from. I've been way down the past few days, and it's almost become a pattern. And I don't know if I just don't remember how bad the last one was or what, but they might be getting worse. I think I might just be forgetting how bad the last one was.

Anywho. Last week it started with the chest-tightness that signifies and oncoming panic attack. Progressing into not being able to sleep, super ultra-clinginess to Mack, horrible self esteem and feeling like I'm failing at everything I do. Today it was so bad I had fleeting feelings of suicide. Don't worry, I'm ok now. It was a nagging thing in the back of my head, just over and over and I finally had to get up and start cleaning and be active. The whole time I was cleaning I just kept thinking that people love me for me as much as sometimes I don't see why. I'm in love with a wonderful man who has been my rock when I've needed it, as often as I do. His kids are amazing, even though they sometimes stress me the hell out, I still love them. My job is really good.

I have a good life. I have to keep reminding myself of this. It's helping me pull out of these funks. I've got to keep fighting them. It's not fair to the people I'm close to around me to constantly have to push me back up. I am not going to be that person who constantly relies on other people to get by day after day.

As soon as I get my health insurance through work, I'm finding a steady doctor and I'm going to get some options to help me with this. And I do need help. It's ridiculous how often this is happening to me. I need it to stop so I can live like a normal person and stop being sucked into this negative pit of doom. I don't care if I have to see a shrink every week or go through fine-tuning medication, or meditate or make drastic changes. I need help. And I owe it to myself and the people around me to get it.

New Jobs and Surgery

Again.

It's to fix my knee, and hopefully I won't be down long, as I start my new job next Monday.

That's right. New job. I went in to get my paycheck at the hotel on Friday and they had it all messed up. And they were telling everyone that we had to cash them at WalMart because they didn't have the money in their payroll account yet and WalMart doesn't process checks for a few days, I guess.

I flipped out because it's not the first time it's happened, WalMart won't cash checks for me (No clue why) and I couldn't afford three dollars being taken out of my check. So I called my manager and she told me that they'd give me cash out of their bank drop. And as soon as I had the cash in my hand, I quit.

And it felt awesome. I knew I had the new job, but I wasn't sure when I started, so that was a point of stress until my new manager called me on Monday, saying I started in a week. Oh, And I wasn't training in Decatur (an hour and a half, one way) I will be training right here in Effingham. I'm excited because hey, new job and more money (after training) and benefits. But I'm nervous because hey, new job.

And surgery in like an hour. That is really making me nervous. I'm not supposed to smoke for 24 hours beforehand, but I've been so stressed over other things that I haven't been able to help it. I really cut down though, so I hope that's something.

It's a knee scope with possible debriement which means they will cut into my knee and shove a camera in my knee cap and if there's stuff in there that shouldn't be, they will take it out. Not super serious, but I'm still getting flashbacks to my brain surgery and that was super serious. There's still a possibility I could die and all that, because there is with any surgery.

But it will go well and I will be healed and everything will be fine. Because mind over matter. Wish me luck!

Same shit, different day...

Have you ever thought you were kind of good at something, worked at it until you were really proud of what you were doing, only to be told that you were not that good at it?

That happened to me. And it was the worst timing.

They past few months have been a series of ups and downs, but mostly downs. My birthday got completely fucked for the second year in a row, my job is just horrible, and everything I do to try and get out of this funk I'm in makes it worse. I'd been applying for jobs like crazy, just trying to get out of that soul sucking hell hole. I finally had a callback/interview. It went really well. I took the drug test, got offered the job. Just waiting on the drug test results, background check and references to get back to the manager. It's been hell waiting for it. It's like someone is dangling a better life just out out reach. I can see it but I can't quite touch it yet.

I worked on a graphic for something stupid at Cracked.com. Just something to pass the time. Photoshopped for hours, didn't like it, started over 3 times. And when I finally finished and was really fucking proud of how it turned out, they didn't like it. Not only did they not like it, they wouldn't even tell me what to fix or what other direction to go so I could try again. They just don't want me on it at all. I've been photoshopping crap for a few years now, finally felt like it was something I was good at and could possibly make it into a career, and I guess I was wrong.

I know it's dumb to just go right to "you suck, just give up now" because a few people didn't like it, but the past few months have been so shitty that's the place that I'm going to with everything. I can describe my life since June as "Just trying to get through the day without crying". And most days I can't do it. At all. The littlest thing just digs and digs and digs and I don't know how much longer I can live this way. I'm not suicidal, but before when I got this way I at least knew that it would stop. After awhile, I would be able to stop pretending to be happy, and actually be happy. Now I see the appeal. If I had to live day after day, year after year like this, I wouldn't put up with it anymore.

And I'm trying to get myself out of it. I really, really am. I've tried painting, writing, photoshopping stupid shit, walking around, talking about it... Nothing it working.

And now I feel like I've done something wrong. Like I'm not allowed to be in a shitty mood, or be upset or irritable. Like I have to be this perfectly happy person 100% of the time. I know the way that I break down is not easy to deal with. I've had so many people walk away from me before because they didn't get it, or they just got sick of it. If it ruins what I have now, I don't know what I would do. I don't think there's any fixing the part of me that would break after that.

I don't think I'm worth it. I don't think I can fix what's wrong with me by myself, and I don't think that there's other people that give enough of a shit to try.

This is really not helping anything at all.

One of those funks is coming

I am trying soooo hard to pull myself out of it. I just want some alone time. Just a day or two to not have to wake up at a certain time or go outside. I want it to rain all day but be warm enough to open all the windows. I want to sit down and make a list of goals for the year and talk to Mack about how we can do them.

I really want to cry.

I'm really sick of people right now. Not people I know, but customers. They could be the nicest person in the world and I just want to tell them "Fuck off, I'm not dealing with you today."

The past week has been crazy busy. At work we're gearing up for Corvette Fest, which is the stupidest thing ever. I should say that my former manager (who doesn't work for the company at all anymore) and I have been gearing up for it. My managers now haven't done shit. We should have been booked full months ago, but we're not so I have been calling every hotel in town, begging them to refer people to us when they get full. Also, I've been calling all the guests who stayed at our two hotels last year, asking if they're coming down this year.

Last weekend, Dan O'Brien and Jason Pargin (Wong) came into town to meet up with Mack and Michael Swaim while Swaim is in town filming a movie. It was really weird having them all in the same place. Jason, Mack and I went out to eat, then went up to watch them set up the set and hung out for a few hours. It was crazy fun, but I had worked an early morning shift so I was completely exhausted. As soon and we got home, Mack and Jason were going to play video games for a while, so I started a pot of coffee, made a batch of cookies and as soon as those were done I passed the hell out.

The next day, my mom and aunt came into town. I worked that morning as well, so I was even more tired that day. We went out to eat and back to their hotel room for a few hours and then I begged off to go home and sleep, because they wanted to leave for St. Louis for the day at 7am.

St Louis was great. We went up to the top of the arch, ate at a great restauraunt, went to the science mueseum. Got pulled over twice. Saw the indian mounds in Il. It was fun, and it was really nice seeing my mom again, but my aunt kept throwing in all these passive-aggressive comments towards me. It was almost like she was trying to start a fight. Mack said the same thing. It was like she would say something really bitchy, but then laugh like it was a joke. It was weird. It was still nice to her though.

I started writing this at work, and I am home now, but I still can't shake this feeling. It's actually starting to get worse. I want to cut. That was what I was trying to avoid is getting to this point in the funk. God, I hate this feeling. My chest gets tight and it's hard to breathe. For the past twenty minutes, I've been clenching my hands in to fists. I looked down and saw marks on my palms so I thought I'd give writing another go.

The worst possible part in all of this is that the kids are here. I love them to death, but I feel absolutely like I should not be around anyone. I'm trying to be cheery and normal, but it's so hard and it feels so fake. If we had the money, I'd honestly go stay at the hotel tonight. Fucking Christ, I hate this feeling.

It seems like it takes longer and longer to pull myself out of this shit. I really need to find some sort of relief that works. I keep thinking "It's ok, it will only last a few days" but that few days just stretches and it feels like the minutes are hours. I look at the clock expecting it to be midnight and it's not even 11:30.

I keep thinking that I can't do this anymore, but what choice do I have. I don't know what sets it off, I can't get out of it. I can't prevent it. I can't stop it once it hits. I feel so Goddamn helpless. It's almost frightening because I can't control it.

I should probably go to sleep, but I would be tossing and turning and replaying every single shitty thing that's ever happened to me. I'd never get to sleep. Or I would end up crying until I fell asleep. If I were alone, I wouldn't mind that but the last time it happened, something happened that made it 100 times worse and I'm not doing that again.

I can't fucking write anymore. This isn't helping at all.

Music

"We can get some music when we start making more money." She said, as the thought of living completely without music hits you for the first time. "Just don't go bringing home any random music you find out on the streets. My ex used to do that and it pisses me off." She continued.

So you find some work and later you bring up the subject of getting some music. "We'll talk about it later." She responds, never bringing up the subject again.

You've lived with music all your life. Music doesn't judge you. It's always there to bring you out of a shitty mood. Living without music is starting to suck. She doesn't like music that much, so she's pretty indifferent to the whole thing.

You bring up music randomly, hoping that maybe she'll get the hint. You don't want to seem like you're nagging about it; you're just trying to make her understand how important music is to you.

She brings home a different kind of music one day without telling you. You're happy and while it's not the same music you're used to having, it's music all the same. The music starts to piss you off a bit after awhile, but it's still music. It still knows when you're upset and loves you unconditionally. The music is starting to get on your nerves more and more, but it still makes you laugh when you're having a shitty day.

Then the music that you weren't really used to, but once you got used to it, wasn't all that bad has to leave. You're left without music again.

She says, "Ok, we can get you some of your music. But it has to be this one specific kind, and that's that."

MUSIC! YOU CAN FINALLY GET SOME MUSIC!

You start looking for free music. You find a few sites that have music, and talk to some people who want to give away some of their music. But none are the exact kind of music you're allowed to get. "I'll find you some music soon." She says, "But I'm not getting music that isn't the exact kind of music we already talked about."

More time goes by. You're still trying to find music, but you don't want to bring it up anymore. There's things in your life that are bringing you down. You're stressed. You're tired. You're depressed. And all of these things are getting worse as time passes. You try to talk to her about it and she either ignores you, gets upset at you for it or tells you to stop. You keep thinking about how music, any kind of music would make you feel better. You can't explain why and you can't even begin to make her understand. "It's just music." She'd probably say.

You get a phone call telling you that the music you once owned, but no longer is with you is fading out. The music isn't that old. It shouldn't be fading this fast. The calls keep coming, the music is fading faster. There's not much that can be done. It's adding to your stress. You loved this music. You helped this music grow. The music was always there for you when you were sad, no matter how many times you'd stopped listening to it for months at a time. You cry, trying to hold the tears back. Everything is piling on at once and something that might seem small has the power to break you. All you want is someone to hold. The tears keep coming as you think about all the things you did while this music was playing. You can't help it. You can't sleep because of it. But you don't say a word because hey, it's just music, right?

Ok, it's official.

I'm fucking stressed. Like before I had a job and I thought I was a burden on Mack stressed. It's getting worse and worse. It's money, but at the same time it isn't. It's about trying to figure out how to best approach someone with a problem when it feels like they don't care. It's about not getting support. It's about venting and feeling ignored. It's starting to piss me off.


I've been throwing things around at work all day because I just don't give a shit about this place anymore. I've busted my ass the past five months and when I need something from them, I get shit on. It's been almost a month and still no workman's comp form. I have been coming in on my days off with the kids and working because the managers fucked up the schedule so bad, they're putting people on for 24 hour shifts. I clean the place from top to bottom, clean up everyone else's messes and the thanks I get is people eating what I have in the fridge for lunch. But everyone acts all shocked when I get mad. They tell me I just have to deal with it. No. Fuck you. I'm not going to sit here and get walked on because that's what people expect of me.

I'm just so sick of it. In my personal and professional life. Everyone just assumes I'm going to be there for them, but the second I need something all I hear is crickets. And the minute I get pissed about it, it's like I'm over reacting. Do your fucking job, and I'd be fine. Show me the same courtesy that I show you, I won't be half as stressed and pissed off as I am right now. Follow through on what you tell me you're going to do. Don't sit there and act shocked when you aren't doing what you should be, and everything gets fucked up. Why should I be getting punished for your misjudgment?

I know it's sounding like a "life's not fair" rant, but I don't hold high expectations for life. The things that I've always wanted aren't going to happen. I'm slowly coming to terms with that. It sucks ass, I don't want to have to compromise, but I will do it for the ends. I've always wanted to be married, I've always wanted a house with my own yard, I've always wanted to go to school to do something to help people and I've never wanted to live with out having a cat in the house.

Right now, I know that not many of those things are going to happen. I'm trying my hardest to come to terms with it. At the moment, I'd just settle for not having to live paycheck to paycheck and not having to strech every last penny until the next payday. I'd settle for not working my ass off and then not have the money to get a haircut. I'd settle for being able to take a few days off to fucking relax with no one around. I'd settle for someone telling me I'm doing a good job, for getting some kind of credit for what I'm doing.

How far can someone get on a quarter of a tank of gas?

Not far. I didn't even try. I didn't really want to get away, actually, but making that turn into work today was one of the hardest things I've had to do in awhile.

It's the same story. Being so tired but I can't sleep. Only this time I can fall asleep fine, it's staying asleep that I have a problem with. I feel like my whole body is just weighed down with lead and I can't get fully awake for the life of me. I'm zoning out constantly and I'm very, very easily irritated

I've been so drained the past few weeks, every day off I get, I can't seem to enjoy because I know I'll be going right back in the next day. I was supposed to have a whole weekend off but that didn't happen. Even if I wanted to take more than the two days off a week I have, I don't feel like I have that option. I just want like four days off to recharge myself. Have some time alone to just be with myself. There's so much shit I need to sort out in my head, it's hard to do when you're not alone.

I hate bitching about my job because it's pretty easy. It's not super physically demanding, but lately it's taking it's toll on my mental health. I know it's not just from work, but this place doesn't help. I haven't even been here an hour yet and I'm already holding back tears.

It just feels like I'm pushing my own limits and I have absolutely nothing to show for it.

I know everyone gets like this, but these "off" days are coming more and more often. I keep trying to write to get it out, but it's making it worse. I don't knowwhat I'm going to do.

Before I get going, there's a dude on the Cracked forums who quit drinking shortly after Mack did and is undergoing a liver transplant and recovery right now. He's halfway across the world, but he has been a source of inspriation to many the past few months. Godspeed, Yowhound. You're in my thoughts and prayers.

So that last post was all disjointed and I'm sorry about that. I was in a bad spot and what I was writing was just so angry and sad that I didn't want to post it. It's not who I am the majority of the time. I think if it hadn't been about an issue that is still unresolved that I probably would have gone ahead and posted it. I want to be honest with what readers I have. But, as of yet, I still haven't had the talk I need to have with the person I need to have it with.

Every time an issue that is kind of a big deal to me comes up between Mack and I, I tend to dwell on it for a bit and then let it go. I don't want to spoil what we have, but on the other hand, I need to start speaking my mind about somethings because all it's going to do is cause me to blow up on him one day. Enough of that, on to what's been going on.

I'm off of work today and it couldn't have come any sooner. The past five days have been fucking insane to the point where I was dangeroulsy close to shooting someone in the face. We've been full up since last Wednesday which is something I'm still not used to after being dead all winter. And it was one of those weeks where everyone CONSTANTLY needed something and I couldn't get my side work done. On top of that, the owners were calling me with bullshit side tasks to do because they didn't think I was busy or something. It was just stupid, the things they were coming up with.

But life is looking up. As they days go on, we seem to be moving more and more in the right direction. Mack is doing work on the JDaTE site, we're both working our asses off and living pretty comfortably. I want to get back to MN for a bit this summer and I've kicked the idea around a bit with Mack so hopefully we can both go. I'm excited for him to meet my family. Also kind of scared, but whatever. It will be interesting to say the least.

I've been working on a image with Vue for the past few weeks. I love digitally building stuff. If I could find a job where I got to do that all day, that would be amazing. I'm still learning the program so it's not going to be the most beautiful thing in the world but it's one of those things where I can look at it when it's done and go "I did that". And I love that feeling.

Off to picture land, see you all later.

Jobs N Stuff

You know how I was going to quit the motel and work at the gas station? Yeah, I totally endedup quitting there like a day later. I feel kind of bad, because I gave them such shit for not hiring me, but when I went to John to put in my two weeks notice, he offered me full time, only second shifts. Which is exactly what I wanted. So I had to quit the gas station because they weren't going to work around my schedeul anyway. So that's that. And now...

I had a huge thing in here about marriage and what not, but I'm not ready to publish it. I'm not sure if I will but suffice it to say that I'm in a really bad spot right now. I'm dwelling on something to the point that I want to cut, and go out and get all fucked up on all sorts of things.

I'm not going to. I made a promise to Mack and I'm going to keep it. Maybe I'll be a bit more lively in a few days.

Painting and Jobs.

This past week and a half has been just absolutely insane. Like, major life changes insane. At least that's what it feels like. I got a second job, we repainted the entire apartment and I spent just under $1000 on... stuff.

For the past four months I've been trying to get a job at the gas station I normally go to. It's right next to the motel I work at; the parking lots are connected, it's that close. I put in my app, they'd hire someone else, someone would quit, they'd put the sign back up, rinse and repeat. After the fourth time seeing the sign up, I walked into the store, told the clerk to "Take down that damn sign and just hire me already."

A few days later I got a call from the manager asking me to come in and take a math test and fill out a background check. I passed everything and my first day was today. It wasn't bad at all. They use the same system that I used at Conoco back in the day. I picked it back up again as if I had been using it last week instead of five years ago.

The only thing that blows is I wanted the job as a second job and as a back up in case Rodeway went in the pooper. It's going to sooner or later and I'd rather not be caught with nothing to fall back on. Anyway, it's looking like I'll have to completely quit Rodeway. They only way I'd be able to swing both jobs is if I either A) Work a seven day work week. Totally feasible, but not realistic with the management at Rodeway pulling the "I'm not going to talk to you about your second job at all, they're going to have to work around whatever I feel like having you do" bullshit he's been pulling the past few weeks. Or B) Work only first shift at Rodeway, working from 7am until 3pm there, then going to work at the gas station from 7pm until 12:30am. Also feasible, but the girl who's working mornings at Rodeway, they won't let her work anything else because she's pretty much retarded. I'm sorry, but damn that woman is dumb as shit.

So I've decided that I'm going to quit Rodeway, and I'm kind of pulling a dick move and not giving notice. I'm on the schedule for both places at the same time next week. The only reason I haven't done it already is because my mom is coming down in two days(!) and they're giving her a fucking sweet discount at another hotel they own while she's down here. So after I drop her off at the train station on Monday, it's done. I hate burning bridges like that but seriously, fuck that place. Mack said earlier today that it's caused me nothing but stress and headaches and he's right. It wasn't so much the job itself as the people I had to work with and for. They're so broke that every check is kind of a surprise if it goes through.

I'm kind of stressing about the decision. We're finally starting to live a comfortable life with the money both of us are making. We're not stretching everything out just to get by. Yes, we're still pretty much living paycheck to paycheck, but it's not a matter anymore of having to choose between food, smokes, gas etc. With the new job, I'll be getting about 23-25 hours a week. On the other hand, there's actually a chance for raises and promotions. Unlike Rodeway, where people who have been working there for 13 years are still making minimum wage.

At least this way I'll be less stressed after working, it's also shorter shifts so that's kind of nice. And I can get another job with only a few days a week that would make up for the loss in hours. It's going to be kind of rough for a bit, I'm sure. But all in all, I think I'm making the right choice. After talking to Mack about it, and having his support, I feel so much better that I did twelve hours ago.

We've also painted every single room in the apartment this week. We started on Saturday with the kitchen and finished up today in the bathroom. I should say Mack finished up today in the bathroom. He did the fair majority in the rolling part. I did all the trim in every room. Except the bedroom, he finished up that and let me sleep because he's a damn good boyfriend. The kitchen and bathroom are blue. Waaay bluer than we expected, but it looks pretty good. The bedroom and hallway are yellow. I didn't like it at first but it looks a ton better now that we have all our shit on the walls and it's broken up a bit. The front room where the computer and the TV are and where we spend the vast majority of our time is kind of an olive green. It looks awesome with all the wood trim and black furniture we have in it. We tossed the futon, too. All in all, our apartment actually looks like a lived in home and not just a temporary means to an end. I'm crazy happy about the way everything turned out.

My mom is coming down to visit this weekend! I'm so damn excited. I haven't seen her since December when my dad was in the hospital, but I spent most of my time with him so I haven't really had much time with her since I moved down in July. She's coming in on Friday night and she'll be leaving Monday morning. It's not a huge amount of time but it's still going to be awesome. She'll finally get to meet the kids and of course, Mack. I think he's kind of nervous. He's been cleaning like mad and wants everything to look all good. It's really cute the care he's taking into it. No one's really done that before, but as this relationship goes on, I find more and more things that prove this isn't like anything I've had before. And it makes me feel really good. Not all my relationships were terrible, but the ones that were terrible were really terrible. But none of them have been this good. None of them have been this comfortable. It's nice. I recommend them to everyone.

Once again, sorry it's been so long. See you soon.

Emily

All good things must come to an end or something.

I canceled my WoW subscription just now. I can't justify paying even the $16 a month when we're broke all the time. And also, I hate the game now. It's the same reason as it was last year. I'm not going into details but fuck that game all to hell. I gave Mack what gold I had on his server, and split up the gold on my server between my four favorite players. Worked out to 1k per person, so that should make them happy.

I probably should have waited to make this decision, seeing is how I'm running on about 3 hours of sleep for today and about 5 yesterday and oh hell, can you tell I'm not sleeping? I can. I've been on the verge of tears all morning because all I want to fucking do is get one night of sleep. Just one. Of decent, deep, non shitty sleep. I've had one day out of the past three weeks where I've slept more than 5 hours at one time. I'm crabby and pissy and really, really sad. To be continued, the whole "verge of tears" thing is now full blown crying so I'm going to step outside and just do that for a bit.

A few days later than I said...

But I'm back within the week. That's something, right?

Finally took care of my headache via the ER. Sucks because it's another bill to add to the pile, but my head doesn't hurt anymore and that's awesome. Another CT scan (Clean) but I don't think I will be totally at ease until I get a MRI. I'm still all groggy and bleh from the Morphine they gave me. It's crazy how long that stuff lasts. I will feel fine for a few hours then a new wave of it will hit me and I get all sluggish and spacey. The day after I had it, I was talking to people and carrying on full conversations only to not remember them hours later. I would remember talking to someone but nothing of that was said. I was replying to text messages the same way. I had to read all the ones over in my inbox later to remember everything.

I submitting my intent to enroll at the community college down here for the fall. I'm kind of excited, but at the same time I'm trying not to get my hopes up because I don't think I'll be able to afford any of it. We'll have to see. I'm not sure where to go from here but to apply for FASFA. I'm also starting the steps to apply for the IL EBT card and once I get my birth certificate and high school transcripts, get my IL driver's licence and then (hopefully) some sweet, sweet state health care. Fingers crossed. I really need this.

I haven't slept for more than a few hours (the most being around 4, I think) at a time in about two weeks. Tonight I am sufficiently exhausted and have nothing to do early tomorrow so here's hoping tonight is the night that breaks that. I can tell the toll it's taking on my body and mind. Achey and Spacey have become my BFF's.

Speaking of which, I am totally zoning out over here. I'll come back soon, I promise.
Things are slowly moving in the right direction. Feels kind of nice.

Hmmm...

I seriously feel like I could copy/paste that last post almost word for word and it'd be right on the money of where I am emotionally right now. The sleep thing, the stress thing, the tumor thing. Everything is exactly the same as it was the last post I made. Why do I only write when I'm upset? Something needs to change with that. Maybe if I kept this up a bit more, I would have a way to destress on a daily basis and not leave it all to build up. I'm more than giving it serious thought, dear reader. I've said it before, but I'm going to start writing more. I always forget the calm feeling of peace it gives me, until the moment I absolutely need it.

The sleep thing is terrible. Every night for two weeks yada yada yada. You know the story. I need to find a job that doesn't keep me up all night, the only times we have the kids. I hate not seeing them as much and being so worn out and crabby from lack of sleep around them. It's no way to be a (parent?) I only have two days a week with them and as much as I never really thought much about having kids before all the drama in Oregon, I'm really enjoying these kids. Possibly because the same sense of humor I've found in their father, the one I worked so hard to hide, is in all of them. It's amazing. I hope they never feel like they have to hide that from anyone. I hope even more they can find more people who relate to that later on in life, when it really means something.

I just need a new job period. There's seriously nothing good about that place. As much as I want to, I won't go into detail because I don't feel justified in complaining about a place that I only enter two times a week. That's one of the problems though. I've never worked this little in any job I've had. And at a time where I need it. I know right now I feel like shit physically, but as much as it hurts, if it still does tomorrow, I have to go in. I can't afford to give up one fourth of my paycheck because I don't feel well.

One thing I am sooo very thankful for right now, is as shitty and pissy and angry as I am- This is the first time I've felt all that, and not had to fight the urge to cut. It's not even there. I still want to cry and maybe punch a dude. But that feeling of being so weak and helpless and just want to make myself hurt...it's totally absent. And that's amazing to me. I know it will be back. I've thought a lot, and spoke with a lot of other people about addiction in the past few months, and it's weird to call cutting an addiction (to me anyway) but I know people have problems with it and I was one of them. I don't think I beat it by any means. I know I never will. But it's just one less thing I have to deal with right now.

I've noticed when ever I get into one of these moods is that I don't feel pretty. I don't feel attractive and I hate looking in the mirror. I guess it's part if the "thinking about ever flaw" deal. It counts the physical ones too. That, and I hate this fucking hair cut. Seriously. Worst hair cut ever.

The biggest thing of all that I'm trying to work though is just general missing things. I miss having a cat in the worst way. It's actually bothering me, not having one. I miss Oregon. Not any of the people there by any means, but I miss looking out and seeing the mountains. I miss the smell of the wood mill. I just miss the general beauty of it. It's so flat here, and I've never really noticed how flat it is in the mid west until being away from it. When I was in Oregon, I missed the fields so I guess it's a catch 22. And I don't have any intentions of returning there. Ever. I lost a big part of me when I was out there, and I'm just starting to get it back. I'm just starting again to be comfortable just being me and not trying to be anything else.

I'm starting to go back to all the places I've lived in my mind, and thinking I was happier then, but I know I'm not. I know that it's the mood I'm in right now just fucking with me. The scenery in Oregon was pretty, sure, but holy shit there was so much wrong with everything in my life when I was out there. I was making shit tons more money in Green Bay than I am now, sure, but I was in tears almost every day from the stress and negitiveness that surrounded me all the time. Minnesota is great, and all my family is there, but even when I was back in December, the same thing happened then that does every time I'm there. I love my family for about three days, then I'm so ready to be gone again. I obviously love them all the time. They just piss me off so much sometimes. Where I am, right now, in this relationship, is great. I need to get off my ass and figure out some schooling, try and get a better job and all that. But I'm happy. On a day to day basis, I'm happy. It's so hard to remember that when I'm like this.

This is getting insanely long. Thank you for reading. I'm favorite-ing the site right now, and I will see you tomorrow-If only just to check in.

I hate this shit.

I'm warning you now, this isn't going to be a happy post.

I can't sleep. It's been about two weeks since I've gotten a decent night/day sleep. Most days I can't fall asleep and I lay in bed for hours. Tonight, I fell asleep, but for about 20 seconds and then I was wide awake again. While I'm laying in bed, every single negative thing about me, about my life- comes at me. One thing after another until I start crying. Without fail. Every night. I want to cut right now, really really bad, but there's one thing stopping me. And I'm never going to give in to the urge to cut. I can't do it. I'm not going to let it get on top of me. If I've learned anything in the past few weeks, it's been that I can't let something get a hold of me like that.

Right now, I'm not only depressed. I feel like I'm going to have a panic attack and I am just angry. I'm so pissed off at nothing. I want to break something. I want to yell and flip out and release all of whatever is pent up inside of me. I'm trying to calm myself down. I know this is all disjointed but I'm not writing for any one's benefit but my own.

The thing I hate the most right now is the fact that I want nothing more than to talk to the man sleeping peacefully in our bed about this. But I'm so terrified of opening up. After nearly six months in a great relationship, I still can't forget what my last relationship did to me. I try so hard to talk, but I wimp out at the last minute. I'm even more terrified that he'll leave me because I'm damaged. John was the only person I opened up to completely, and he brought up everything I hated about myself, every fucking flaw I have and rubbed it in my face when things weren't going his way.

Besides all this, my left eye has been twitching for the past two weeks, my migraines are getting worse and more frequent and I'm starting to get physically weak again. I couldn't break ice out of the tray today. It actually hurt. I hope that I'm just reading too much into it, but it scares the hell out of me. I can't afford an MRI. They gave me a CAT scan at the hospital in September, but they gave me one in the hospital in Oregon two weeks before my MRI showed a tumor, and that CAT scan didn't show anything, either.

I know the sleeping is stress related. I've been through it enough to know the pattern. I'm fine for a few months, and then one small thing after another builds and builds until I break. From there I see all the big things- When am I going to figure out what I want to do and start school? What am I going to do about money. How am I going to pay off the mountain of debt? What am I going to do about medical insurance? I'm supposed to be on medications for hormone replacement after the surgery, but I can't afford it. I can't afford to be checked out by a doctor. I can't afford to get a migraine that kicks my ass into the hospital, but at least they don't ask for money up front. It just goes on top of the pile of debt.

It's insane, why can't I just let things go and be normal. Why can't I just talk about this in the open, instead of hiding behind a keyboard. I'm posting this and people I barely know are going to read it, but I can't go wake up my boyfriend and ask him to hold me because I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want to inconvenience him by waking him up because of something that's my problem. I think the thing I'm most afraid of is reaching out to someone and having them turn around and walk away.

I hate this shit.

Part Two

I didn't realize it had cut off part of my post last night. Here's the rest of it.

Upon seeing him in that bed, all that shit hooked up to him I was so close to losing it. I didn’t want him seeing how scared I was. I didn’t want him having to reassure me that everything was going to be ok. He was the one that needed a rock. I’m not going to get into all the medical details of what went down, that’s something that isn’t my personal information to give out. But it was not good. They ended up keeping him overnight; something he was not pleased with. I stayed with him, slipping out every so often to smoke and clear my head.

It was the longest night of my life, watching him. I prayed harder than I ever had in my short praying career. Some were selfish. I wanted him to be ok because I didn’t want to be without him. Many were just for whatever happened to not be permanent or do any lasting damage. I just wanted him to come out of it healthy. I just wanted him to be ok.

I didn’t sleep more than a half hour. I just sat and rubbed his leg, listening to him sleep. I wanted so much to crawl next to him and snuggle him more for my own comfort. It was the first night in a long time that we weren’t sleeping next to each other and that just felt strange. But he needed rest so I let him get as much as he could. It’s part of the reason why I’m writing this now. He’s sleeping and I’d just be tossing and turning.

So now we’re here. It wasn’t a heart attack, and it’s something related to the virus he had a few weeks ago. It’s not serious and it should just go away. Once we got settled back in the apartment, it was like any other night with him - full of laughter and foot slaps. He’s going to be ok.

Hopefully now I can sleep.

I didn’t start writing this to go off on a tangent about the ins and outs of faith and belief. I started writing this because last night we thought Mack had a heart attack, and while I was freaked out at the time, the whole thing just came crashing down on me and I needed a way to release some stress. Writing has always helped. It might not seem connected, but it is.

I’ve always believed in something. I never thought that there wasn’t some higher power or deity running the show. I’ve toyed with many theories over the years. I’ve gone through many phases, practicing different religions, discussing and reading up on many more. I never wanted to call myself a Christian, due to bad experiences with people pushing it on me when I was looking for answers. Also, because I was one of those people who didn’t want to follow what most people were doing, because it was what most people were doing. I wanted to be different.

What I stuck with for a long time, was never really a defined “religion” I found in most religions I had read up on, what it boiled down to was being a decent person, to yourself and to others. Helping when you can, taking help when needed and paying it forward. If anyone asked, I said I was Agnostic, claiming, “I believe in something, but I don’t know what it is.” A lot of people are of the opinion that Agnostic is not taking a stand either way. Whichever they define it as; I’ve come to realize that it’s kind of a bullshit, middle ground stance. The point of faith is to actually believe in something. To say “I believe in God, and trust that He is going to guide me through my trials, and welcome me with open arms at the end.”

I’m not claiming that if you are X religion, you’re going to Hell. I think that as long as you live your life as a decent, caring person, God will welcome you into Heaven at the end of your journey. If you go against that, but genuinely ask for forgiveness and live your life the best way you can, He will see that.

I never, ever thought I would call myself a Christian. We weren’t raised in a house where we went to Church or talked about God. My parents both had that pushed onto them, and wanted us to make up our own minds about our own beliefs. The few times I willingly went to church when I was looking for some sort of answer, it was pushed on to me the moment they knew I was just kind of “browsing”. I hated that. One church found out I was never baptized and wanted to do it right then and there. Without my family. Without me having any real knowledge about Christianity besides the basics. I thought it was absolutely absurd. That being forced on me angered me so much, I turned away from it and didn’t look back until years later. Even three months ago, I would have told you I was Agnostic. I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason, and that someone is designing it all, but I would never say, “It’s God’s plan”.

That all started to change a few months back, with a late night conversation with Mack. He pretty much said, “Being Agnostic is such a pussy ass way out of making a decision”. I wasn’t offended, because I knew he was right. At the same time, I knew what I had molded my faith into was Christianity without the commitment or label.

We were going through a rough time, financially. When I moved down here, I was all but guaranteed a job upon arrival. Once I got down here, however, that job interviewed me and never called me back. I had multiple interviews, with nothing coming of it. Mack was carrying me on what he was barely making ends meet before I came down. It finally reached a point where if I didn’t get hired in the next two weeks, I had to go back to Minnesota. I was terrified of that outcome. Here I am, finally in a normal, loving relationship, and it was about to go back to seeing one another via webcam until we could get enough money together to try again.

So I did something stupid. Instead of treating this as a normal relationship where I could go to him and vent out my stress, I started cutting again. I couldn’t sleep; I was getting physically sick from the stress. I waited until Mack fell asleep, went into another room or outside and cried. I would cry until I couldn’t anymore, and then I would cut until my mind was off my stress and on to my pain. Then I would finally fall asleep. There were nights that I would take sleeping pills, and still be up for more than 24 hours. I was unable to sleep until I had cut. I felt like shit for it. I felt like shit because I was down here, burdening Mack. I didn’t want to go to him and vent, because I somehow felt I didn’t deserve to have the right to. I was scared and depressed and stressed.

Then one night, I went outside to do my thing. I sat and smoked and cried. I leaned against the truck and looked up. Something right then clicked for me. I asked for forgiveness for all the shitty things I’d done. I prayed. To God. Not to some chance higher power. I said I was sorry for putting off the inevitable for all these years. I put my life into His hands. Even when I was so sick I couldn’t eat for days, and in intense pain before my surgery, I was never able to do that. A few days later, I interviewed at my current job, and was hired that day. You can interpret that any way you want, but I feel that God heard me that night.

That night solidified my faith. It wasn’t the fact that I got the job. I prayed for peace and guidance and it was something I received that night. I felt that everything was going to be ok, the second I ended my little “Dear God, it’s me, Emily” moment. I put my life into His hands and He guided me to a solution. It was something I knew then, I am Emily-Christian, but it wasn’t something I mentioned to anyone until writing this.

What brings me to writing this all down is one of the scariest things I’ve ever been through. Mack got really sick two weeks ago. Since then, he’d been having chest pains. He didn’t tell me until three or four days ago. That day, they had gotten so bad while he was working he almost called an ambulance. The next day, it happened again, but worse. It was while he was at work, and it actually dropped him to the ground. He had shooting pains in his arm, and his fingers were numb. His boss took him to the ER, and came to pick me up. The second I opened the door and saw Mack’s boss standing there, I knew what had happened and for a long time, I couldn’t think. I heard Darren talking, but it wasn’t registering that he was speaking to me. He drove me up to the hospital and led me to Mack’s room.

I forgot this blog exsisted.

Seriously, my bad. I know there's a whopping five people who read this, if that- but I still feel kind of bad.

The past few months have been pretty strange. Not strange, really- but lots of highs and lows. Very stressful. I was all but promised a job before I came down here and that fell through within the first few weeks. Since then it's been nothing but apply for a job, have an interview, and never hear another word. I had applied at Kmart, gone to two interviews and had them run me around for a month and a half. I just finally got a job at a motel in town, they called me back the day I interviewed, so that was nice. The second they offered me a job, Kmart called me back. I've also had more phone calls wanting to set up interviews since I started my job, then I have had all month.

So I started the job, and it's going quite nicely. Fairly easy, most of the customers are normal human beings. Not much screaming. They've never hired anyone as young as me, because once I finish training, I will be the only person working and in charge of a 40 room hotel. Yay, responsibility.

So I'm alive, in case anyone was wondering. Incredibly less stressed than I was last week. I'm thinking about writing a little retarded short story and posting it here, but we'll see. I need something to do to be creative because it's driving me insane, not being able to paint.

Finally on a bus!