*short post bc I have the day off and want to write.
There's a song called "My Blood." Its about a boy and his brothers. In the first two lines he says, "If you're facing down a dark hall, I'll grab my light and go with you." The song speaks volumes. It could mean anything, from a literal hallway or dark mind. Its a song about relationships and having someone's back no matter the circumstance. "Stay with me no, you don't need to run. Stay with me my blood." The line "you don't need to run." is said more often than other line in the song. Its meant to convey that sense of support. Support that no matter what your facing, if they're calling for your head, that they'll grab their bat and go with you.
Support. Its something that, while you always kinda know you have it. Its often hard for those who support you, to even say it often enough. Especially when you're in the same place as me. I know these things. Deep down. I feel it, I know they love me. Thats why I tried for so long to thrive off it. My nieces and nephews smiling at me, calling me Juju. My siblings calling me because they want to chat and playing games with my brother. But its harder than you think. You're dealing with so much that its hard to get lifted high enough to see any light. You have all the support in the world but fear that the weight that you're carrying will overwhelm them too and that's your biggest fear. They're afraid of lose you, but you're afraid that you'll lose them because of you.
It feels like they offer their support, but do they really know what kinda burden taking on?
I've recently had a LOT of support. Its wonderful and truly heartwarming. I love them. All of them. Its makes me feel warmer when sometimes I am too cold to feel anything. But I can't help but worry. I know its not pity, but I worry it might be obligation or responsibility. I worry that they may not realize how deep it really goes. I worry that, as much as they love me, maybe it'll more than they can handle, maybe I'll be more than they can handle.
I suppose thats what family is for though. Just like the song. My Blood. They'll be with you no matter what. You're their blood. No matter how strong your fear is that they'll be hurt in the process they'll go with you. Its nice to know. Knowing, that no matter how terrible you think the situation is, you got an army to go to war with you.
"If you find yourself in a lion's den, I'll jump right in and pull my pin and go with you."
Thursday, February 7, 2019
Sunday, February 3, 2019
"Fridays will always be better than Sundays 'Cause Sundays are my suicide days"-Twenty One Pilots
Aint it true though. The title. I'm not sure why it is. I feel like its relevant for everyone tho. Everyone that is who, is somewhat like me. Mentally I suppose. They really are the worst days. The very worst.
People don't entirely understand though. To be honest, neither do I. Why? Why is it Sunday's. "The Lord's day." The rest day, the peaceful day, the brunch day. They're always a bad day for me. Always. I'm not sure why. For a while I thought it was because I was alone. I live alone, and don't do much on the weekends, so, it would make sense that my loneliness would be completely encompassing on Sundays. But, it even happens when I'm with people I love. When I'm not even home, when I'm on vacation. I can't escape. Its like a timer. I've come to know, that on Sunday's, I'll be at the lowest. But, back to the initial sentence of this paragraph. People. Don't. Get. It. I've told a friend of mine, who also struggles with depression and anxiety, that i can't do things on Sundays. I cant. I won't drive 30 mins to see you, because, I. Can. Not. Do. It. Recently, she's said we've become distant and that she always wants to hang out. I'm not sure how explain to her any other way. SUNDAYS ARE MY SUICIDE DAYS! I need to not be, idk forced, to do something that my body and my brain and my heart, are not in it. I don't think I would even hang out with my sister if my nieces and nephews weren't my literal life force, but even then. I need to be home early so I can distract myself by whatever self medicating means I need.
Today is no different. Its bad. Its really bad today. Its gorgeous outside, and I've closed all my blinds. The darkness makes me feel less like a hermit and a bum who won't clean her apartment. But i need the light right? So I can feel better. Because i do like natural light. But my apartment is dirty, because i can't bring myself to clean it. Like a normal person. Like I used to. So i'm paranoid that people will walk by, and see my dirty place. Its completely random things like that. Things that people don't understand. People assume you' re lazy. Or you just don't want to see them, or do things, or you like being at home. But its not. Its being stuck. You're stuck in your head and what those are telling you and people who have never experienced it, don't get it. You can talk till you're blue in the face and they will still try to fix you. They'll tell you that you need fresh air, that a doctor won't do anything, that you need to sleep that you need to eat, that you need work out. They'll give you a list of mindful practices without realizing that my "mind" isn't in the place to be mindful, because to be very honest, its not even my mind anymore. Its a mind thats corrupted and dark and bleak, Empty. It feels empty.
I've used this metaphor before, for describing what depression feels like for me but I'm not sure I've written it down. In the first Incredibles, Mr. Incredible breaks into the conference room on the island. Where, he is subsequently shot with these black balls. These black balls expand, and when you touch it, a piece of it gets on you, and then that piece expands as well. So, Mr. Incredible is trying to rip these balls off of him and keeps getting them stuck, while also getting shot with more and more balls. Until they completely expand and close him off in this suffocating cocoon of darkness. For me its like, every time I think I have a handle of my depression I try to metaphorically "take it off" and it makes it all worse, overwhelming and now I'm suffocating. People don't see it though. They just see me no longer struggling against the what feels like inevitable ending of a cocoon again.
Thats just my experience though. Everyone's is different. Some people say that a little demon is on their shoulder, other people describe it as "voices" in a way that your brain is telling you things about you and your surroundings that aren't true, some people say its an overwhelming feeling of sadness and despair, others say its feeling everything all the time 10x stronger than anyone average person, some say its feeling nothing at all. I say, its suffocating, a cocoon, a black, exhausting, suffocating, cocoon.
Which you know is why Sunday's are so hard. I always end up crying on Sundays. Last week it was right before bed ("It always happens at right?"twp) I was recording my journal for the day and I got completely lost in my entry and cried through out the whole recording. Mostly it was me just saying 'it sucks, I suck, my life sucks, I'm always tried, no one understands.' And believe me, if you feel like that sounds petty, then you surely have never experienced true and debilitating depression. I know I have a good ass life, I KNOW I'm fantastic as a person. But right now, it really feels like everything sucks. Like a black hole. Everything that is supposed to be good, I feel almost nothing about it because I am so so deep in this hole that I can't feel happy. Today though? My sister asked me to come over and I cried. I cried because I was afraid to tell her I quit my second job (thats also anxiety.) I cried because I worried that it was a pity invite. I cried because I knew I wouldn't have enough time to explain to her just how bad everything really is for me right now. Things that I think about, things I say in my journal. I become overwhelmed with my own tragic thoughts of talking to my own sister.
Thats why Sundays are the worst days. I don't think about those things everyday. I don't cry everyday. I don't panic and worry about my own family will think about me. Its just Sundays. My suicide days. Those days where you question. Where even though you have so much to live for, you really wonder, is it really enough.
Of course it is right? It doesn't always feel that way. I go to bed every night telling myself for the past month, "tomorrow will be better." And honestly, it doesn't work. Tomorrow is not always better. Sometimes tomorrow worse, sometimes tomorrow is Sunday.
BTW: Twenty Pilots is my favorite band. Tyler Joseph is a brilliant lyricists and I HIGHLY recommend you listen or at least look up their lyrics. I love his metaphors. They always always work for me. Trapdoor is my favorite song. And if you'd like to know how I interpret it maybe I'll tell you. My favorite movie is the Incredibles. I love it. It has more symbolism in it than people think and when i say that they roll their eyes. But just try to watch it again, and tell me if you see anything.
Blog Entries: Regular (so far)
Journal Entries: Irregular at best
Medication: Lexapro 10mg Since November, clearly not working.
Doc Appt: Friday actually. "Thank God its Friday 'cause Fridays will always be better than Sundays 'Cause Sundays are my suicide days"-Twenty One Pilots "
People don't entirely understand though. To be honest, neither do I. Why? Why is it Sunday's. "The Lord's day." The rest day, the peaceful day, the brunch day. They're always a bad day for me. Always. I'm not sure why. For a while I thought it was because I was alone. I live alone, and don't do much on the weekends, so, it would make sense that my loneliness would be completely encompassing on Sundays. But, it even happens when I'm with people I love. When I'm not even home, when I'm on vacation. I can't escape. Its like a timer. I've come to know, that on Sunday's, I'll be at the lowest. But, back to the initial sentence of this paragraph. People. Don't. Get. It. I've told a friend of mine, who also struggles with depression and anxiety, that i can't do things on Sundays. I cant. I won't drive 30 mins to see you, because, I. Can. Not. Do. It. Recently, she's said we've become distant and that she always wants to hang out. I'm not sure how explain to her any other way. SUNDAYS ARE MY SUICIDE DAYS! I need to not be, idk forced, to do something that my body and my brain and my heart, are not in it. I don't think I would even hang out with my sister if my nieces and nephews weren't my literal life force, but even then. I need to be home early so I can distract myself by whatever self medicating means I need.
Today is no different. Its bad. Its really bad today. Its gorgeous outside, and I've closed all my blinds. The darkness makes me feel less like a hermit and a bum who won't clean her apartment. But i need the light right? So I can feel better. Because i do like natural light. But my apartment is dirty, because i can't bring myself to clean it. Like a normal person. Like I used to. So i'm paranoid that people will walk by, and see my dirty place. Its completely random things like that. Things that people don't understand. People assume you' re lazy. Or you just don't want to see them, or do things, or you like being at home. But its not. Its being stuck. You're stuck in your head and what those are telling you and people who have never experienced it, don't get it. You can talk till you're blue in the face and they will still try to fix you. They'll tell you that you need fresh air, that a doctor won't do anything, that you need to sleep that you need to eat, that you need work out. They'll give you a list of mindful practices without realizing that my "mind" isn't in the place to be mindful, because to be very honest, its not even my mind anymore. Its a mind thats corrupted and dark and bleak, Empty. It feels empty.
I've used this metaphor before, for describing what depression feels like for me but I'm not sure I've written it down. In the first Incredibles, Mr. Incredible breaks into the conference room on the island. Where, he is subsequently shot with these black balls. These black balls expand, and when you touch it, a piece of it gets on you, and then that piece expands as well. So, Mr. Incredible is trying to rip these balls off of him and keeps getting them stuck, while also getting shot with more and more balls. Until they completely expand and close him off in this suffocating cocoon of darkness. For me its like, every time I think I have a handle of my depression I try to metaphorically "take it off" and it makes it all worse, overwhelming and now I'm suffocating. People don't see it though. They just see me no longer struggling against the what feels like inevitable ending of a cocoon again.
Thats just my experience though. Everyone's is different. Some people say that a little demon is on their shoulder, other people describe it as "voices" in a way that your brain is telling you things about you and your surroundings that aren't true, some people say its an overwhelming feeling of sadness and despair, others say its feeling everything all the time 10x stronger than anyone average person, some say its feeling nothing at all. I say, its suffocating, a cocoon, a black, exhausting, suffocating, cocoon.
Which you know is why Sunday's are so hard. I always end up crying on Sundays. Last week it was right before bed ("It always happens at right?"twp) I was recording my journal for the day and I got completely lost in my entry and cried through out the whole recording. Mostly it was me just saying 'it sucks, I suck, my life sucks, I'm always tried, no one understands.' And believe me, if you feel like that sounds petty, then you surely have never experienced true and debilitating depression. I know I have a good ass life, I KNOW I'm fantastic as a person. But right now, it really feels like everything sucks. Like a black hole. Everything that is supposed to be good, I feel almost nothing about it because I am so so deep in this hole that I can't feel happy. Today though? My sister asked me to come over and I cried. I cried because I was afraid to tell her I quit my second job (thats also anxiety.) I cried because I worried that it was a pity invite. I cried because I knew I wouldn't have enough time to explain to her just how bad everything really is for me right now. Things that I think about, things I say in my journal. I become overwhelmed with my own tragic thoughts of talking to my own sister.
Thats why Sundays are the worst days. I don't think about those things everyday. I don't cry everyday. I don't panic and worry about my own family will think about me. Its just Sundays. My suicide days. Those days where you question. Where even though you have so much to live for, you really wonder, is it really enough.
Of course it is right? It doesn't always feel that way. I go to bed every night telling myself for the past month, "tomorrow will be better." And honestly, it doesn't work. Tomorrow is not always better. Sometimes tomorrow worse, sometimes tomorrow is Sunday.
BTW: Twenty Pilots is my favorite band. Tyler Joseph is a brilliant lyricists and I HIGHLY recommend you listen or at least look up their lyrics. I love his metaphors. They always always work for me. Trapdoor is my favorite song. And if you'd like to know how I interpret it maybe I'll tell you. My favorite movie is the Incredibles. I love it. It has more symbolism in it than people think and when i say that they roll their eyes. But just try to watch it again, and tell me if you see anything.
Blog Entries: Regular (so far)
Journal Entries: Irregular at best
Medication: Lexapro 10mg Since November, clearly not working.
Doc Appt: Friday actually. "Thank God its Friday 'cause Fridays will always be better than Sundays 'Cause Sundays are my suicide days"-Twenty One Pilots "
Sunday, January 27, 2019
I suppose I'll start again
A lot has happened in the past...geez almost 2 years since I've written on here. Nothing of supreme significance. Just, life I suppose. I would imagine that its rather boring compared to most. Uneventful and even dull, lacking any surprise at all. But, to be honest, its been a lot for me. I'm not quite sure why. I don't have a good reason, or any one event that set everything else in motion. It really was literally just "how the cookie crumbled."
First, let me start out by saying, I am still hooked on, infatuated with, maybe even in love with this person who ended our relationship ALMOST THREE YEARS AGO! Why? No idea. I feel like the girls I used to make fun of, in movies, honestly even in my life. Any friends that would be stuck on a person who made they're feelings for them quite clear (that being that they couldn't care less). I would judge. So hard. Now, now I am that girl. Feelings, so clear, he doesn't care. Buuuuut does he? the question I continually ask myself. Its absurd, and ridiculous I know. It's almost like I can't stop. I just can't disconnect from them enough to connect with someone else. Its sad and consistently reminds how of lonely I am.
Second, this stupid thing I'm hung up on has had this remarkable ability to have me looking for connections with people who only want to physically connect. I've been told idk how many times in just this past year where people have essentially, in not so many words, "you're fuck-able, but not date-able." Now if that doesn't make someone sad, I'm not sure too many things would. Self-esteem, extremely low. Body image? Also extremely low. Why though? Why would my body image also suffer? These men said they'd sleep with me so why don't I at least feel pretty? Because, to put it simply, they want a 'relationship' with me that would only exist in the bedroom(metaphorically). Am I not pretty enough to at least take out to Red Lobster? To show off in public? To claim me as yours in front of other people? Or only just the bedroom when you call me 'baby.' So yeah, self esteem generally low, self image, pretty poor.
Third, SPEAKING OF POOR...I am broke as shit. I have no money. None. I am absolutely atrocious when it comes to managing my money. I don't know why. But its like I can't remind myself often enough that I'm poor. I feel good some days, and I go out, I buy lunch, I buy food to cook, I buy clothes, I buy something. And then I'm suddenly reminded that I need to pay bills. Its dumb, I'm dumb. I know. I've asked my job for a raise because all the other girls in my office get paid more than me and have been there less than me. But, they said no. Because they don't do raises. So I've been looking for other jobs. No one is hiring someone with my degree, my experience, or something. Or, if they are, they just aren't hiring me.
Finally, In the the midst of all this shit I've brought upon myself. I have been diagnosed with depression, and anxiety. I saw the 'discharge' sheet after one of my doctor appointments and it said "major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder." I ruined my day. I called my mom and my best friends and cried about because I felt awful and weird having a seen the 'names' for it written down with my name. I'm still not over it. The med still aren't working, I'm still not sleeping, and honestly, I still don't know what I need to do about it.
Thus, I was reminded that have a blog. A blog, which I used to get a lot of joy from. I enjoy writing. A lot. So I've never quite understood why I couldn't stick with it. I think it was a matter of me being lazy, not having the energy or time, and not really having anything to write about. I'm going to try and start journalling again. Everyday. And also use this. To kind of document more details. Once a week is a goal lol But not a standard so we shall see. I'll write about finding the right pills, finding the best self care techniques for me and hopefully about the night time ritual I figure out so I can sleep like a normal person. ya know, trick my brain into thinking its time to sleep when, its actually time to sleep. (i'm terrified of sleeping pills but if I need them I'll keep you updated.)
Thanks for bearing with me. Thanks for starting again. Its new. Its silly and weird and honest. I'll probably be annoying but hopefully more interesting and relatable than anything else. Adios new friends.
First, let me start out by saying, I am still hooked on, infatuated with, maybe even in love with this person who ended our relationship ALMOST THREE YEARS AGO! Why? No idea. I feel like the girls I used to make fun of, in movies, honestly even in my life. Any friends that would be stuck on a person who made they're feelings for them quite clear (that being that they couldn't care less). I would judge. So hard. Now, now I am that girl. Feelings, so clear, he doesn't care. Buuuuut does he? the question I continually ask myself. Its absurd, and ridiculous I know. It's almost like I can't stop. I just can't disconnect from them enough to connect with someone else. Its sad and consistently reminds how of lonely I am.
Second, this stupid thing I'm hung up on has had this remarkable ability to have me looking for connections with people who only want to physically connect. I've been told idk how many times in just this past year where people have essentially, in not so many words, "you're fuck-able, but not date-able." Now if that doesn't make someone sad, I'm not sure too many things would. Self-esteem, extremely low. Body image? Also extremely low. Why though? Why would my body image also suffer? These men said they'd sleep with me so why don't I at least feel pretty? Because, to put it simply, they want a 'relationship' with me that would only exist in the bedroom(metaphorically). Am I not pretty enough to at least take out to Red Lobster? To show off in public? To claim me as yours in front of other people? Or only just the bedroom when you call me 'baby.' So yeah, self esteem generally low, self image, pretty poor.
Third, SPEAKING OF POOR...I am broke as shit. I have no money. None. I am absolutely atrocious when it comes to managing my money. I don't know why. But its like I can't remind myself often enough that I'm poor. I feel good some days, and I go out, I buy lunch, I buy food to cook, I buy clothes, I buy something. And then I'm suddenly reminded that I need to pay bills. Its dumb, I'm dumb. I know. I've asked my job for a raise because all the other girls in my office get paid more than me and have been there less than me. But, they said no. Because they don't do raises. So I've been looking for other jobs. No one is hiring someone with my degree, my experience, or something. Or, if they are, they just aren't hiring me.
Finally, In the the midst of all this shit I've brought upon myself. I have been diagnosed with depression, and anxiety. I saw the 'discharge' sheet after one of my doctor appointments and it said "major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder." I ruined my day. I called my mom and my best friends and cried about because I felt awful and weird having a seen the 'names' for it written down with my name. I'm still not over it. The med still aren't working, I'm still not sleeping, and honestly, I still don't know what I need to do about it.
Thus, I was reminded that have a blog. A blog, which I used to get a lot of joy from. I enjoy writing. A lot. So I've never quite understood why I couldn't stick with it. I think it was a matter of me being lazy, not having the energy or time, and not really having anything to write about. I'm going to try and start journalling again. Everyday. And also use this. To kind of document more details. Once a week is a goal lol But not a standard so we shall see. I'll write about finding the right pills, finding the best self care techniques for me and hopefully about the night time ritual I figure out so I can sleep like a normal person. ya know, trick my brain into thinking its time to sleep when, its actually time to sleep. (i'm terrified of sleeping pills but if I need them I'll keep you updated.)
Thanks for bearing with me. Thanks for starting again. Its new. Its silly and weird and honest. I'll probably be annoying but hopefully more interesting and relatable than anything else. Adios new friends.
Monday, May 8, 2017
For the girl who thinks she's everyone's second choice.
Its been a while since I've written. Honestly, there isn't a really good reason. But some things have happened lately in my life that have had me a bit down. Something that has been weighing on my mind heavily for a number of months.
I continually feel like everyone's second choice.
Regularly in life we make, choices, per say about the people in our lives. For example, who I call when something good/bad happens, who invite over for dinner, who I talk to when I really just want to talk because I need good stimulating conversation. Those kinds of choices.
It makes sense that most of the time, if not all of the time, you'd always choose your significant other, your best friend, your child, ect. Thats what I do. I have a list of people for certain things. I have my parents when I think I'm struggling. I have my sisters when I have good news. I have my brother when I need a good laugh or to make fun of someone. I have my best friend for when I need to hang out or complain about boys, what have you.
But, for me, it seems that, I am no one's first choice. While I understand it, they have all have spouses or significant others, or even children, that would be their first choice, I only have them. They are my choices my first choices.
I recently was dating someone, that while I never really doubted my self-esteem, definitely made me start. And please don't get the wrong impression. They were actually incredibly nice to me, kind, sweet, and often told me things that would usually build up a persons self-esteem. However, they often picked people, or in his case, materialistic things over me. (like a car, not. kidding.) He was greedy and money hungry. Yes, he had goals for his life, and I completely supported that, who wouldn't? But, he just wanted money, and often said he wanted it more than anything. He wanted the money to buy nice things for the people he cared about, so he could travel, so he could get a nice house and retire young all the wishy wishy bullshit people say when they're covering up their greed. He just wants to be rich. Just, rich. That's it. He didn't get me anything for my birthday, we broke up before Christmas so I guess I'll never know that but he didn't do little things either. He never brought flowers, or got me something I said I wanted online or something as a surprise. BUT I need to clarify, this is just to prove that he didn't want money to buy things for the people in his life. I'm not materialistic. He knew that. I don't need things, but somethings are nice.
Anyways, back to the matter at hand. Second. Choice. I was ALWAYS his back up plan. ALWAYS. I would ask him to hang out, he'd have plans, I would see what he was doing, he was out with friends/"shady af business partners", I would want to go out and do something and he didn't like my suggestion or his car didn't have enough miles (he leased it. Yes he was so smart) so he'd bail. He'd be late ANYTIME we actually hung out because of his shady af side businesses (MIND YOU I actually dealt with that. Fine, make your money cool) But seriously, he never made time for me. It was work, or his investments, or his businesses, even his friends, EVERYTHING in his life came before me.
One time I actually asked him, "Where am I on your list of priorities?" He says, "What do you mean?" "Well I mean, I get that your family will come first always but what about me? Am I before your money? Before your investments? I want you to succeed but does that mean I come last?" His response, "You're in a different category than money." And that's...it. That's all he had to say about it. I very bluntly asked him if I was a priority and he not so bluntly said no.
Which, if any of you can imagine. That hurt like hell. But I'm not a quitter. I soldiered on. Just for him to leave a few months later, for, you guessed it, money. Money money money. He broke up with me, for. money. AND THEN have the audacity to come back, for more, money. All the while saying that I am one of the most important things in his life and he can't afford (see the phrasing?) to have me leave. Making me feel like shit because I put him first for everything I was always last but here he is, guilting me, all the while, still. putting. me. last.
SO, back to the point, this little life lesson had me all kinds of low in the esteem area, "I'm going to be alone forever, how come I'm not better than money, maybe its the way I look, my laugh? Nah my kiss my little lips ruin everything" Wallow wallow wallow.
Then a questions stood out to me. "How come I was always after something on his list." It made me reevaluate all the other relationships in my life. All. Of. Them. Including my family sadly because that's how low of a place I was. How come I never seem to come first in someone's life. Even my cat???? (She liked my roommate more)
Man, did this realization SUPER bum me out. My family all has significant others. My friends? Same, thing. Was this because I was single? Am I missing something? Nope, not just that either. There were ALWAYS other people they'd rather talk to, hang out with, call, whatever before me.
To be fair, I'm not a selfish person. I get that there will always be someone more important than me in other peoples' lives. I'm not silly.
But, I wanted to be that person to someone.
I felt like I was just waiting around, waiting to be picked. Because I care, because I'm loyal, no matter how toxic or bad the situation was, I just wanted to be picked. It was unhealthy, it was quite literally dangerous, and it was making me physically ill. I was over thinking everything in my life. My interactions with clients, friends, family, strangers. I love, with ALL of my heart. Always have, and I'm sure I always will. But it was exhausting, it was exhausting feeling like a backup.
Until one day. I took a mental health day. I needed it desperately. And I found two great quotes show up on my news feed that day, one by an unknown "Too busy is a myth. People make time for whats important to them." And one by Dr. Suess, "Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."
Can you imagine, seeing this? After alllll my melodramatic self doubt. Those both rang true. I took a deep breathe, and started to think about everything from a broader range.
How many times did I ditch my friends or family for that one guy who said I was important but only had an hour that one specific date and time that I actually had plans. How many times have my friends made plans and REMEMBERED ME. How many times did I show up at my sister's house crying over a stupid boy when she was on maternity leave with her newborn daughter and made sure that while I was there, I got all the toddler and baby snuggles.
I had to really take a deep breath. I had to think. I was important. To so many people. So many. I knew, that while I might not always be the first choice for somethings, I was at other times. I was some people's go to guru when they doubted themselves and needed to be built back up. I was the go to baby whisperer when my nephew wouldn't sleep sometimes (or they at least made me feel that way.) I was my best friend's go to for something, my Dad's go to for something. I am important. And you are too.
Don't let shitty people make you doubt other relationships in your life. Don't let people make you feel second best, or not important at all. If they do, get rid of it. Get rid of it now.
And here's a life tip. Its okay to have "Being a priority," on your list of qualities in a significant other. It doesn't make you clingy, and it doesn't make you crazy. It makes you human. Everyone wants to be important.
I continually feel like everyone's second choice.
Regularly in life we make, choices, per say about the people in our lives. For example, who I call when something good/bad happens, who invite over for dinner, who I talk to when I really just want to talk because I need good stimulating conversation. Those kinds of choices.
It makes sense that most of the time, if not all of the time, you'd always choose your significant other, your best friend, your child, ect. Thats what I do. I have a list of people for certain things. I have my parents when I think I'm struggling. I have my sisters when I have good news. I have my brother when I need a good laugh or to make fun of someone. I have my best friend for when I need to hang out or complain about boys, what have you.
But, for me, it seems that, I am no one's first choice. While I understand it, they have all have spouses or significant others, or even children, that would be their first choice, I only have them. They are my choices my first choices.
I recently was dating someone, that while I never really doubted my self-esteem, definitely made me start. And please don't get the wrong impression. They were actually incredibly nice to me, kind, sweet, and often told me things that would usually build up a persons self-esteem. However, they often picked people, or in his case, materialistic things over me. (like a car, not. kidding.) He was greedy and money hungry. Yes, he had goals for his life, and I completely supported that, who wouldn't? But, he just wanted money, and often said he wanted it more than anything. He wanted the money to buy nice things for the people he cared about, so he could travel, so he could get a nice house and retire young all the wishy wishy bullshit people say when they're covering up their greed. He just wants to be rich. Just, rich. That's it. He didn't get me anything for my birthday, we broke up before Christmas so I guess I'll never know that but he didn't do little things either. He never brought flowers, or got me something I said I wanted online or something as a surprise. BUT I need to clarify, this is just to prove that he didn't want money to buy things for the people in his life. I'm not materialistic. He knew that. I don't need things, but somethings are nice.
Anyways, back to the matter at hand. Second. Choice. I was ALWAYS his back up plan. ALWAYS. I would ask him to hang out, he'd have plans, I would see what he was doing, he was out with friends/"shady af business partners", I would want to go out and do something and he didn't like my suggestion or his car didn't have enough miles (he leased it. Yes he was so smart) so he'd bail. He'd be late ANYTIME we actually hung out because of his shady af side businesses (MIND YOU I actually dealt with that. Fine, make your money cool) But seriously, he never made time for me. It was work, or his investments, or his businesses, even his friends, EVERYTHING in his life came before me.
One time I actually asked him, "Where am I on your list of priorities?" He says, "What do you mean?" "Well I mean, I get that your family will come first always but what about me? Am I before your money? Before your investments? I want you to succeed but does that mean I come last?" His response, "You're in a different category than money." And that's...it. That's all he had to say about it. I very bluntly asked him if I was a priority and he not so bluntly said no.
Which, if any of you can imagine. That hurt like hell. But I'm not a quitter. I soldiered on. Just for him to leave a few months later, for, you guessed it, money. Money money money. He broke up with me, for. money. AND THEN have the audacity to come back, for more, money. All the while saying that I am one of the most important things in his life and he can't afford (see the phrasing?) to have me leave. Making me feel like shit because I put him first for everything I was always last but here he is, guilting me, all the while, still. putting. me. last.
SO, back to the point, this little life lesson had me all kinds of low in the esteem area, "I'm going to be alone forever, how come I'm not better than money, maybe its the way I look, my laugh? Nah my kiss my little lips ruin everything" Wallow wallow wallow.
Then a questions stood out to me. "How come I was always after something on his list." It made me reevaluate all the other relationships in my life. All. Of. Them. Including my family sadly because that's how low of a place I was. How come I never seem to come first in someone's life. Even my cat???? (She liked my roommate more)
Man, did this realization SUPER bum me out. My family all has significant others. My friends? Same, thing. Was this because I was single? Am I missing something? Nope, not just that either. There were ALWAYS other people they'd rather talk to, hang out with, call, whatever before me.
To be fair, I'm not a selfish person. I get that there will always be someone more important than me in other peoples' lives. I'm not silly.
But, I wanted to be that person to someone.
I felt like I was just waiting around, waiting to be picked. Because I care, because I'm loyal, no matter how toxic or bad the situation was, I just wanted to be picked. It was unhealthy, it was quite literally dangerous, and it was making me physically ill. I was over thinking everything in my life. My interactions with clients, friends, family, strangers. I love, with ALL of my heart. Always have, and I'm sure I always will. But it was exhausting, it was exhausting feeling like a backup.
Until one day. I took a mental health day. I needed it desperately. And I found two great quotes show up on my news feed that day, one by an unknown "Too busy is a myth. People make time for whats important to them." And one by Dr. Suess, "Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."
Can you imagine, seeing this? After alllll my melodramatic self doubt. Those both rang true. I took a deep breathe, and started to think about everything from a broader range.
How many times did I ditch my friends or family for that one guy who said I was important but only had an hour that one specific date and time that I actually had plans. How many times have my friends made plans and REMEMBERED ME. How many times did I show up at my sister's house crying over a stupid boy when she was on maternity leave with her newborn daughter and made sure that while I was there, I got all the toddler and baby snuggles.
I had to really take a deep breath. I had to think. I was important. To so many people. So many. I knew, that while I might not always be the first choice for somethings, I was at other times. I was some people's go to guru when they doubted themselves and needed to be built back up. I was the go to baby whisperer when my nephew wouldn't sleep sometimes (or they at least made me feel that way.) I was my best friend's go to for something, my Dad's go to for something. I am important. And you are too.
Don't let shitty people make you doubt other relationships in your life. Don't let people make you feel second best, or not important at all. If they do, get rid of it. Get rid of it now.
And here's a life tip. Its okay to have "Being a priority," on your list of qualities in a significant other. It doesn't make you clingy, and it doesn't make you crazy. It makes you human. Everyone wants to be important.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Things after 1 am
Now this post can mean very different things for everyone.
For my mother, if she is still awake, it probably means finishing up whatever conversation she is having and that last glass of wine and going bed.
For my pregnant sister, it probably means going to the bathroom half asleep and telling her husband when her 1 year old cries, "Can you get him this time?"
For my brother, it likely means finishing up his beer, or whatever alcohol he has on hand, and debating on whether to watch another episode or "naaah."
For my other older sister it likely means, waiting for her husband to come from work just so she can say "I love you," to him before she goes to bed.
And for my father, I assume it means, playing games on his phone at work. (Idk what he does at work but he probably doesn't actually play games. He's a really legit hard worker."
However, for me, my 1 am is very different. During the weekdays it can vary, it can mean finishing up that case that is due tomorrow, (I'm a social worker now. I graduated college guys. YAY!) or potentially actually being asleep (on a lucky day, a very lucky day). On weekends it usually means....well on the weekend it usually means bedtime, not gonna lie, or on days like today, it seems to mean being extremely hyper, very awake, and confused as to why I feel no drowsiness at all.
I used to be up to till 1 am on daily basis. It was my warning time. Like, "Okay, now start relaxing because by 2 am you should probably be asleep." Being up till 1 was nothing. Hell, sometimes the parties didn't really start kicking till 1 am. Now, at 22, I go out with my friends and we finish up our nights by 10:30 pm so everyone go sleep in their own bed.
I remember after one crazy birthday party of my best friend I didn't even show up till 10 pm and I woke up at 10 am with an hour of sleep because I slept on their couch that everyone else decided to pile on top of me on. Mind you, I lived 5 mins away. 5 walking minutes away. I could have literally stumbled my way back to my own bed. But no, the party was hopping till I think like 9am that day. It was a wild one, but geez. I COULD HAVE WALKED.
Fast forward 3 years: I can't even stand the thought of sharing a bed with my bestie unless I'm drunk. Because I'll have to be drunk enough to pass out without being toooo upset its not my own bed.
Fast forward 3 years: I can't even stand the thought of sharing a bed with my bestie unless I'm drunk. Because I'll have to be drunk enough to pass out without being toooo upset its not my own bed.
How is 22 so old?
My 1 am's used to be crazy!
Or not crazy but at least I saw 1 am and didn't cringe at how far past my bedtime it was.
Now if I see 1 am on weekend I think "Whoohoo! I made it! This is an okay time for me to passo...ZZZZZZ"
If I see 1 am on weekday all I can think is, "Shit, tomorrow is gonna suck, this week is gonna suck. I'm going to be so tired. I'm going to eat everything tomorrow. I'm going to get fat. I'll never be thin. I'M SO TIRED!!!"
^^^I mean come on. Tell me that's not ridiculous.
Anyway, today I made it till 2 am, or will because its not actually 2 yet, but I will make it I assure you. And my after 1 am experience has been getting lost in youtube (I watched 40 mins of people reading mean tweets) Facebooking...everything....everything I did I Facebooked, annnnnd playing on my phone. I decided to be more productive and instead of working...like I should be....I wrote this. So, ya know. Here's to hoping that this isn't an actual mess written by a sleep deprived sick adult. Did I mention I'm also sick? Sinus infections bruh.
Gotta say, I don't really miss being up this late anymore. I get to see my nephew in the morning now. And he's the cutest little boy ever so I like to be alert and not an angry lunatic because I hate mornings and didn't get any sleep.
Pssst-Btw...I made it till 2 am. I might to sleep n...ZZZZ.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Things to Thank Your Sisters for.
When I was born I was blessed with two lovely older sisters. Much to their dismay, I grew up to be a snarky, sassy, and quite frankly, a little bit assy little sister. Luckily for me, my wonderful sisters are kind enough to put up with me, still. So today,while thinking about my sisters, I thought about a list of things I am extremely grateful to them for:
1.) For teaching me things I should already know. For for times I've called you about because I can't get that stain out of my clothes and Mom isn't answering her phone, again. For those times I've called you because I'm stuck in the snow and can't figure out how to get out, again. For those times my car broke down and I don't know what to do and I'm freaking out, again. For those times I've called you because I need your help making a budget, again. I'll always be grateful for your endless patience. I know you both think that you don't have that much, but trust me, your patience with me seems endless and I'm thankful.
2.) For helping me find my "thing". Both of my sisters are beautiful in their own right. They have their own personalities and their own particular style, just their own "thing". And unfortunately for my mother I had to also have my own "thing." I had to have my own style, my own clothes, my own makeup style and my own attitude. I wanted to dress differently than my sisters, act differently than my sisters and just be different. I wanted to be me. And they helped me. They helped me find clothes I like(even if that meant wearing their clothes first), they helped me learn how to put on makeup (something they still have to help me with **see number 1**), they helped me find my interests and supported me when pursuing them. They helped me find me.
3.) For always making me feel beautiful. Every little sister will always think her sister's are prettier than her. There have been many times I have called my sisters with many a insecurity, and yet, they always reassure me, that I am pretty, that I am beautiful and that I am gorgeous women. Those random times you tell me that you, my stylish sister, like my sweater, or that I look pretty in a selfie, or that those random jeans I haven't worn in forever look really good me, yeah I live for those moments, they totally make my day.
4.) For all the tough love. Yes, there are times where you make me cry and I get angry and think you're the absolute worst. But I know, deep down, that your right. That yes, buying that random thing at that random store with my no money was not smart. That yes, arguing with a parent about that stupid topic for no reason was a bad choice. That of course, I need to do this thing more responsibly. Thank you for telling me that that sweater did not look good on my and that my eyeliner was smudged. There are not many opinions I take more seriously than yours. So when you tell me that I need to get my life together, I know that its true. And thank you.
5.) For letting me vent to you. I will always be thankful for you letting me vent to you about Mom and Dad, about my job, about my roommate, about my apartment, about my car, about my computer, about my clothes and my...life. Thank you for listening.
6.) For understanding me. Thank you for knowing that I need alone time sometimes, even around our family. Thank you for knowing that sometimes I over think things. Thank you for knowing that I go from 0-100% freakingoutmylifeisfallingapart in second after a small insignificant thing happens.
7.) For those times that just really needed my big sister. Thank you for letting me cry to you. Thank you telling me that everything happens for a reason. Thank you being there for me in everything good thing that happens and every bad. I love you and thank you for being you.
Friday, July 17, 2015
PSA: I now have a neice and nephew that run my life and I love it.
So over a year ago my sisters told me that they were pregnant. If you can't math (like myself) I now have one beautiful, big eyed, smirky and sassy little niece, and one adorable, giggly, smiley, and genius little nephew. I'm completely obsessed with both of them.
When my sisters told me they were both pregnant I was excited. I mean who wouldn't be? But there were sooooo many things I wasn't prepared for.
1.) I had NOOOOO idea how much I would love them. Seriously. I look at them and I feel this urge to momma bear anyone thats not family that tries to hold/play/touch/go near them. No. You're not holding them right. WRONG thisssss is how you make him laugh. Don't you even try to tell me that that allll babies look like potatoes because they don't, they look perfect. Here look at the albums I have of them (at least 60 pics each.) Not mention I think about them alllll the time, the next time i'll see them and who I'll have to fight to hold them first (my mom and dad are always in that running). Thats not an exaggeration. I mean I don't like many people, but holy damn do would I do absolutely anything for these perfect kids.
2.) They take over ever electronic/social media I have. My niece and her big beautiful eyes are my background and stare at them every time I want to smile or see her because she lives across the country. Yesterday my sister sent me a video of my laughing up a storm at his daddy and I almost died. Not kidding. Like, I had this feeling in my chest where my heart like overflowed with cuteness and I just wanted to speed over there and snuggle him till he loved more than anyone on the planet because I want to him giggle like that. (I watched that video like 20x yesterday and only 3x today. Progress.)
3.) They make you cry almost as much as they do. If they cry, you cry, sometimes on the inside, and sometimes through your eyeballs. Not kidding. I don't get to see my niece often but I occasionally babysit my nephew. And holy moly. My nephew. He cries and I want to cry. Not because he's crying and I don't know what to do, I usually know why (tired, hungry, bored, poopy pants) the usual stuff. But because I can't keep him in constant state of happiness. Not to mention the happy tears. When I finally saw my nephew minutes after he was birthed I just lost it. I looked at his adorableperfectwonderfulloveable little face and realized that my amazing sister grew him inside of her! And he was so perfect. I picked him up and I think I cried more than my sister, my brother, and my parents...I'm an emotional person. I've only cried happy tears three times in my life: When got accepted to dream school with a scholarship and during the father daughter dance at each of my sisters' weddings. 3x in my 21 years of life. but when I saw that baby...I couldn't hold myself together.
4.)I found this one online but it is 100% true. Your priorities change. After my sister had my nephew, I would put everything else on the back burner. You want to hangout? Sorry, I cuddling my nephew and I'll never put him down. My sister wants to get dinner or lunch but I have to work or class? Pffffttt that's okay, I'm coming. Have my nephew ready to handed over. Nothing will come before my niece and nephew. (Probably work one day when I get a real big kid job but lets be real...will it really?) One time a friend of mine said, "You literally see your nephew every weekend...can we hangout please?" My response, "I love you dear, but until you have a niece or nephew you cannot judge how much time I spend with him. He has my heart and always will. Therefore, he will also always have my time."
4.)Last but certainly not least, I wasn't prepared for amount of devastation you feel when you have to leave them. After my sister had my nephew and it was time for me to go back to school, I cried on my home. I literally live less than an hour away, but a couple weeks without seeing him? Nah uh, I was NOT going to be able to handle that. When my sister came to my graduation, I almost keeled over when I saw my niece. Every time I held her I never wanted to give her up because I knew that they'd have to leave, but they'd be here for a week, that's a while right? But when they all left, I actually went to the bathroom and cried a little (much crying, so emotion, wow.) I knew I wouldn't get to see her for another long while. I was afraid I'd miss so many adorable milestones. Now she's coming to visit in a few weeks, but I know that when she leaves, I'll cry, again, because these perfect little humans, made of perfection, pull at my heartstrings like no one else can.
There a ton of things about being Aunt Juju I wasn't prepared for. How much I love them, how much I want other people to love them too but not more than me bc that's not possible, how perfect they'd be, how terrified I am that they're getting older, how excited I am that they're getting older. So so many things. But really, this is the best title I could have in my right now, I could be a doctor, I could a manager, I could be the friggen president but I'd still choose Aunt Juju because my niece and nephew will call me that, and whats cuter than hearing little kids that you love say your name wrong but oh so adorably.
When my sisters told me they were both pregnant I was excited. I mean who wouldn't be? But there were sooooo many things I wasn't prepared for.
1.) I had NOOOOO idea how much I would love them. Seriously. I look at them and I feel this urge to momma bear anyone thats not family that tries to hold/play/touch/go near them. No. You're not holding them right. WRONG thisssss is how you make him laugh. Don't you even try to tell me that that allll babies look like potatoes because they don't, they look perfect. Here look at the albums I have of them (at least 60 pics each.) Not mention I think about them alllll the time, the next time i'll see them and who I'll have to fight to hold them first (my mom and dad are always in that running). Thats not an exaggeration. I mean I don't like many people, but holy damn do would I do absolutely anything for these perfect kids.
2.) They take over ever electronic/social media I have. My niece and her big beautiful eyes are my background and stare at them every time I want to smile or see her because she lives across the country. Yesterday my sister sent me a video of my laughing up a storm at his daddy and I almost died. Not kidding. Like, I had this feeling in my chest where my heart like overflowed with cuteness and I just wanted to speed over there and snuggle him till he loved more than anyone on the planet because I want to him giggle like that. (I watched that video like 20x yesterday and only 3x today. Progress.)
3.) They make you cry almost as much as they do. If they cry, you cry, sometimes on the inside, and sometimes through your eyeballs. Not kidding. I don't get to see my niece often but I occasionally babysit my nephew. And holy moly. My nephew. He cries and I want to cry. Not because he's crying and I don't know what to do, I usually know why (tired, hungry, bored, poopy pants) the usual stuff. But because I can't keep him in constant state of happiness. Not to mention the happy tears. When I finally saw my nephew minutes after he was birthed I just lost it. I looked at his adorableperfectwonderfulloveable little face and realized that my amazing sister grew him inside of her! And he was so perfect. I picked him up and I think I cried more than my sister, my brother, and my parents...I'm an emotional person. I've only cried happy tears three times in my life: When got accepted to dream school with a scholarship and during the father daughter dance at each of my sisters' weddings. 3x in my 21 years of life. but when I saw that baby...I couldn't hold myself together.
4.)I found this one online but it is 100% true. Your priorities change. After my sister had my nephew, I would put everything else on the back burner. You want to hangout? Sorry, I cuddling my nephew and I'll never put him down. My sister wants to get dinner or lunch but I have to work or class? Pffffttt that's okay, I'm coming. Have my nephew ready to handed over. Nothing will come before my niece and nephew. (Probably work one day when I get a real big kid job but lets be real...will it really?) One time a friend of mine said, "You literally see your nephew every weekend...can we hangout please?" My response, "I love you dear, but until you have a niece or nephew you cannot judge how much time I spend with him. He has my heart and always will. Therefore, he will also always have my time."
4.)Last but certainly not least, I wasn't prepared for amount of devastation you feel when you have to leave them. After my sister had my nephew and it was time for me to go back to school, I cried on my home. I literally live less than an hour away, but a couple weeks without seeing him? Nah uh, I was NOT going to be able to handle that. When my sister came to my graduation, I almost keeled over when I saw my niece. Every time I held her I never wanted to give her up because I knew that they'd have to leave, but they'd be here for a week, that's a while right? But when they all left, I actually went to the bathroom and cried a little (much crying, so emotion, wow.) I knew I wouldn't get to see her for another long while. I was afraid I'd miss so many adorable milestones. Now she's coming to visit in a few weeks, but I know that when she leaves, I'll cry, again, because these perfect little humans, made of perfection, pull at my heartstrings like no one else can.
There a ton of things about being Aunt Juju I wasn't prepared for. How much I love them, how much I want other people to love them too but not more than me bc that's not possible, how perfect they'd be, how terrified I am that they're getting older, how excited I am that they're getting older. So so many things. But really, this is the best title I could have in my right now, I could be a doctor, I could a manager, I could be the friggen president but I'd still choose Aunt Juju because my niece and nephew will call me that, and whats cuter than hearing little kids that you love say your name wrong but oh so adorably.
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