To some people's very natures apparently. I am very often not shocked when my being myself is offensive to others because it tends to happen in front of my face and I sort of expect it from certain personality types. What *does* shock me, however, is when I'm apparently offensive to people who I would never expect it from. Family members. I have one set of relatives that I've managed to piss off everyone but one cousin in the family. She's the only one who hasn't given up on me. There are others in the family that are friends with everyone in my immediate family... except for me. And not for a lack of trying on my part. I'm just not a desirable enough situation to be in contact with?
I don't get it. I have PLENTY of offensive people that I deal with on a regular basis because I love them, regardless of how they act or because there is some form of obligation there. I'm not really...hurt(?) persay. I think maybe I'm more annoyed. At least I know why my aunt took me off. She told me. Why am I so offensive to them? I honestly don't know. Not these people. Not on the level that as part of their family (despite the fact that there are some of them that would rather not be a part of our family at all and yet still manage to be friends with my siblings) I'm too (abrasive,fat,interracial,rude,liberal, etc) for their tastes.
The coolest thing I can find about being randomly removed from family and formerly good friend's lists with no knowledge or fight to clue me in as to the reasoning? I get to make up my own. I've decided that their all racist republicans. Because I can.
It shouldn't bother me because if they don't want to be involved in my life even on a small level like being possibly exposed to my facebook (or me theirs). But it prickles me a bit. I've not had a bad thought about some of these folks until they decided that I wasn't.... seriously, desirable is the best description of how I feel about that. I'm so happy that I have some family who would never turn me away and friends that I know never would. I'm thankful for them.
Here's to hoping that I don't need family for support any time soon. Because I guarantee that if I'm not even allowed to be a small part of your life, I am definitely not going to be there for the big stuff and wouldn't ask them to be a part of mine. Almost makes me wish that I did have a wedding so that I could make an issue out of not inviting them. Oh...but I'm not vengeful like that. I just like to have the thoughts sometimes. Ugh... ok I'm going to stop letting this bother me and get some stuff done now.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Infertility
Brandon and I had a conversation last night. It was very brief and we both were a little closed off about the whole topic. But it's been weighing on my mind today. I mostly push the bigger, broader things in my life away to arms length so that I can focus on the day-to-day. I don't ignore it or pretend it's not there, but I don't want to spend every day wallowing in self-pity and depression. It's not who I am. This particular topic of conversation is one of those things that brings that stuff on.
I was walking through Walgreens yesterday afternoon while waiting for my prescriptions to be ready. Every time I walked by something designed for children or mothers, I made a little light notation that I would probably never need that.. or that... won't need to worry about that problem, or those. It's moments like that when I have that little ping hit me that while I really hope it's not true. The little ping feels like the realization that I will never have children. I will not be a mother. Inside my body, that sentence sounds like "I will.... never (feeling of dread, disappointment, sadness and fear mixed with a skip of my heart and the sound of tears in my head)... have.... children. Oh god. How can I never be a mother? I'd make such an excellent one. I deserve to have me passed on. Why am I not allowed? What did I do wrong? Why not those other people who do such horrible horrible things? Why are they allowed to have children anytime they want and I am not? I don't necessarily believe in a higher power, but that doesn't keep me from being angry at God when I feel that way. And all of these pings... these thoughts of helplessness and sadness seem to pass through me within a matter of seconds. And then I move on with my day...
Sure, it takes me a little longer to be happy for someone who is pregnant or adopting. I am happy for them. Or at least I will be.... eventually. But I can't be at the beginning. It's the stab of jealousy and smidge of anger I feel towards that person for having what I am seemingly incapable of. It really makes me angry with people who have a small horde of children (and sometimes a large horde) and they want to complain about how those children are affecting their lives. PLEASE be careful about what you say to me because it is absolutely not below me to remind you of what you have in a way that will/should make you feel horrible about it.
Now the reality of it is that I wouldn't get pregnant if I could help it right now anyway. I'm so close to healing with the PG and I need to be on the drugs I'm on for a big longer. And then, because of the painful side effects, I need to wean off of them. I can't take them at all if I'm pregnant. Not to mention, I just would much rather be healthier if I'm going to be carrying a child and then caring for one. It's just common sense.
As any female (and many many males) know, common sense, logic and emotions are very often NOT on the same wavelength. So I get a little depressed. I certainly don't bring up the conversation with Brandon. He got a little wind of my thoughts last night and got the impression that I've given up an formed the opinion that I will (absolutely) never have children. I don't want to feel that way. I want to continue to think that there is hope. That somehow, I will heal from all of the current stuff, get all the other stuff in order and magically be healed hormonally. It's a bit of fairyland promises to myself. I don't necessarily believe them... all the time.
I guess the bottom line is that I want to have children. Very badly. I know that Brandon does too. He's even picked out the lullaby he would sing to the babies. He deserves to be a dad. I want to give him that. After all, he gave me something very special in marrying me. I want to be able to walk around the baby stuff and say "thank goodness I don't need that stuff anymore!" because I've already had to use it once (or twice). If I'm sad, or standoff-ish around your pregnant self or your children... or your happiness, I hope that you understand. It's not about you. It's about my dealing with my own emotions. Maybe now that I've written this down, I can get back to doing productive things instead of thinking about it.
I was walking through Walgreens yesterday afternoon while waiting for my prescriptions to be ready. Every time I walked by something designed for children or mothers, I made a little light notation that I would probably never need that.. or that... won't need to worry about that problem, or those. It's moments like that when I have that little ping hit me that while I really hope it's not true. The little ping feels like the realization that I will never have children. I will not be a mother. Inside my body, that sentence sounds like "I will.... never (feeling of dread, disappointment, sadness and fear mixed with a skip of my heart and the sound of tears in my head)... have.... children. Oh god. How can I never be a mother? I'd make such an excellent one. I deserve to have me passed on. Why am I not allowed? What did I do wrong? Why not those other people who do such horrible horrible things? Why are they allowed to have children anytime they want and I am not? I don't necessarily believe in a higher power, but that doesn't keep me from being angry at God when I feel that way. And all of these pings... these thoughts of helplessness and sadness seem to pass through me within a matter of seconds. And then I move on with my day...
Sure, it takes me a little longer to be happy for someone who is pregnant or adopting. I am happy for them. Or at least I will be.... eventually. But I can't be at the beginning. It's the stab of jealousy and smidge of anger I feel towards that person for having what I am seemingly incapable of. It really makes me angry with people who have a small horde of children (and sometimes a large horde) and they want to complain about how those children are affecting their lives. PLEASE be careful about what you say to me because it is absolutely not below me to remind you of what you have in a way that will/should make you feel horrible about it.
Now the reality of it is that I wouldn't get pregnant if I could help it right now anyway. I'm so close to healing with the PG and I need to be on the drugs I'm on for a big longer. And then, because of the painful side effects, I need to wean off of them. I can't take them at all if I'm pregnant. Not to mention, I just would much rather be healthier if I'm going to be carrying a child and then caring for one. It's just common sense.
As any female (and many many males) know, common sense, logic and emotions are very often NOT on the same wavelength. So I get a little depressed. I certainly don't bring up the conversation with Brandon. He got a little wind of my thoughts last night and got the impression that I've given up an formed the opinion that I will (absolutely) never have children. I don't want to feel that way. I want to continue to think that there is hope. That somehow, I will heal from all of the current stuff, get all the other stuff in order and magically be healed hormonally. It's a bit of fairyland promises to myself. I don't necessarily believe them... all the time.
I guess the bottom line is that I want to have children. Very badly. I know that Brandon does too. He's even picked out the lullaby he would sing to the babies. He deserves to be a dad. I want to give him that. After all, he gave me something very special in marrying me. I want to be able to walk around the baby stuff and say "thank goodness I don't need that stuff anymore!" because I've already had to use it once (or twice). If I'm sad, or standoff-ish around your pregnant self or your children... or your happiness, I hope that you understand. It's not about you. It's about my dealing with my own emotions. Maybe now that I've written this down, I can get back to doing productive things instead of thinking about it.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Medical, Issues, and Apologies
I never seem to know the proper place to be able to vent about my...erm...issues. Mostly medical. I can't stand that person in the crowd that seems to have nothing to do but complain about everything that's wrong with them. I most certainly don't want to be that person. The problem is finding that balance. Where do I stop telling people so that they aren't over-informed and feel burdened by it but still manage to know what's going on in my life. There are so many people who really don't know what is truly happening with me and there are a few who do. I honestly don't know who's who anymore. So I'm writing this here for those people and I will link it to my facebook account with your names tagged so that you can try to get an idea of how I'm feeling and what's going on. I've gotten into the routine of responses like "I'm ok today. Today is a good day," and "I've felt better and I've felt worse" with a big grin and joking nature to try and push it off to the side. Honestly, for the most part, I do feel that way much of the time. Maybe like 85-90% of the time, I'm ok or better. Unfortunately, the left over 10-15%? It stacks up. And then I get it all in my face at one time in a big bang.
I know this... I am in a rough spot right now because I just...feel... tired. I'm tired of people, work, pain, electric shocks, medication, MD appointments, and mostly of just being tired. I've always been fiercely independent. But I'm just not anymore. I want to be. Very very badly. I want to be able to nudge things out of my way with powerful muscles (they are under there hiding amongst the fat) like I've always been able to do. But I can't. I want to be able to walk more than a 1/2 mile without it causing me pain in one or all of a hundred ways. But I can't. I would like to have the stamina to even think of walking 1/2 a mile anymore since the pain began. But I can't.... I would like to not have to depend on other people to help me into a standing position from time to time because of the pain involved in getting up and down. It's so much easier (and painful) just to stand for a long time and then sit for a long time so I don't have to go through the pain of up and down and the uncomfortable nature of having to ask someone else for help. And being me, it really doesn't get much easier as time goes on. I've been counting on my sweet sweet husband to help me in times of pain and exhaustion for longer than we've been married. I would love to be able to give him a break. All of those things....but I can't.
More importantly, I would love to be able to lose it when I want, cry when I want and otherwise freak the fuck out whenever I want to. But I can't. Because while the help I ask for may be an inconvenience (usually to me more than them), none of the people I see and deal with on a regular basis deserve that. I am. Just. So. Very. Tired. I think I'm honestly probably too pooped to even begin to freak out. I'd probably lose it. I have thrown things in frustration and anger in the last month when I haven't do anything even close to that violent in many years. Not even when my mother was alive and making me angry every day.
So here's the medical crap going on with me so those of you who don't know, can catch up. I have an autoimmune dysfunction called Pyoderma Gangrenosum. You can click there for the link to read the blahblahs about that. It started with one little sore in May 2012 and was officially diagnosed during a hospital stay in August 2012. It's been a non-stop (I don't even know what to call this crap) ever since. I started with two wounds and ended up with 26 at it's worst. Right now I'm down to 5 stubborn little fuckers.
For me what it does is cause me to have to wear bandages 24/7 with frequent changes, infrequent bathing (no soaking the wounds in water for a long time b/c of bacteria and because it's effing painful), costs me time, money and energy to do almost anything outside the necessary. They believe that I have Psioratic Arthritis. I wasn't sure about that when they first diagnosed it. They aren't 100% and I was closer to 30%. But the longer my immune system gets whacked around with a bat, the more different types of autoimmune issues show up and I now am showing several different kinds of psoriasis. So much fun. Just let me tell you.
I have a once a month recurring (and expensive) treatment in New Orleans of immunosuppressant drugs that do exactly that. They suppress my immune system. It makes it harder to fight off illness and infection, but it's allowing my overactive immune system to chill out. I see this great surge of healing towards the end of that month. Right about the time all of the debilitation joint pain starts from the rumored psioratic arthritis. I'm leaking like a faucet with a missing stopper. Usually my legs are tinted yellow and pink. It's not pretty. And it smells pretty bad too. About a week after the treatments, I tend to get some kind of infection, usually cellulitis, in the tissue around my wounds. It's painful and my calves usually swell to twice their size. One of the therapists I work with is the one who noticed the trend and I've asked the dermatologist for preventative antibiotics at her suggestion. They would have probably worked this last time had I not spent several hours standing in the swamp after Brandon's accident. More recently, I'm also having a problem with my nerves. I get electric shocks of nerve pain that rolls from my knees to my feet. It's like that sensation of the chills only more painful and very very frequently. That's really only the stuff I can think of off hand. One by one, these things probably wouldn't be so problematic. However, the fact that I deal with all of this on a daily basis for the last 1 year and 2 months makes it utterly exhausting and I'm running out of good mood juice. But I'm trying. So please bare with me while I attempt to get all of this (emotions n shit) back under control. If I snap at you or ignore you or seem like I've written you off, I haven't. I just want all the other crap to end so that I can get back to my happy, bubbly self (or as happy and bubbly as I'm capable).
I love you and sorry I'm so long winded. :)
I know this... I am in a rough spot right now because I just...feel... tired. I'm tired of people, work, pain, electric shocks, medication, MD appointments, and mostly of just being tired. I've always been fiercely independent. But I'm just not anymore. I want to be. Very very badly. I want to be able to nudge things out of my way with powerful muscles (they are under there hiding amongst the fat) like I've always been able to do. But I can't. I want to be able to walk more than a 1/2 mile without it causing me pain in one or all of a hundred ways. But I can't. I would like to have the stamina to even think of walking 1/2 a mile anymore since the pain began. But I can't.... I would like to not have to depend on other people to help me into a standing position from time to time because of the pain involved in getting up and down. It's so much easier (and painful) just to stand for a long time and then sit for a long time so I don't have to go through the pain of up and down and the uncomfortable nature of having to ask someone else for help. And being me, it really doesn't get much easier as time goes on. I've been counting on my sweet sweet husband to help me in times of pain and exhaustion for longer than we've been married. I would love to be able to give him a break. All of those things....but I can't.
More importantly, I would love to be able to lose it when I want, cry when I want and otherwise freak the fuck out whenever I want to. But I can't. Because while the help I ask for may be an inconvenience (usually to me more than them), none of the people I see and deal with on a regular basis deserve that. I am. Just. So. Very. Tired. I think I'm honestly probably too pooped to even begin to freak out. I'd probably lose it. I have thrown things in frustration and anger in the last month when I haven't do anything even close to that violent in many years. Not even when my mother was alive and making me angry every day.
So here's the medical crap going on with me so those of you who don't know, can catch up. I have an autoimmune dysfunction called Pyoderma Gangrenosum. You can click there for the link to read the blahblahs about that. It started with one little sore in May 2012 and was officially diagnosed during a hospital stay in August 2012. It's been a non-stop (I don't even know what to call this crap) ever since. I started with two wounds and ended up with 26 at it's worst. Right now I'm down to 5 stubborn little fuckers.
For me what it does is cause me to have to wear bandages 24/7 with frequent changes, infrequent bathing (no soaking the wounds in water for a long time b/c of bacteria and because it's effing painful), costs me time, money and energy to do almost anything outside the necessary. They believe that I have Psioratic Arthritis. I wasn't sure about that when they first diagnosed it. They aren't 100% and I was closer to 30%. But the longer my immune system gets whacked around with a bat, the more different types of autoimmune issues show up and I now am showing several different kinds of psoriasis. So much fun. Just let me tell you.
I have a once a month recurring (and expensive) treatment in New Orleans of immunosuppressant drugs that do exactly that. They suppress my immune system. It makes it harder to fight off illness and infection, but it's allowing my overactive immune system to chill out. I see this great surge of healing towards the end of that month. Right about the time all of the debilitation joint pain starts from the rumored psioratic arthritis. I'm leaking like a faucet with a missing stopper. Usually my legs are tinted yellow and pink. It's not pretty. And it smells pretty bad too. About a week after the treatments, I tend to get some kind of infection, usually cellulitis, in the tissue around my wounds. It's painful and my calves usually swell to twice their size. One of the therapists I work with is the one who noticed the trend and I've asked the dermatologist for preventative antibiotics at her suggestion. They would have probably worked this last time had I not spent several hours standing in the swamp after Brandon's accident. More recently, I'm also having a problem with my nerves. I get electric shocks of nerve pain that rolls from my knees to my feet. It's like that sensation of the chills only more painful and very very frequently. That's really only the stuff I can think of off hand. One by one, these things probably wouldn't be so problematic. However, the fact that I deal with all of this on a daily basis for the last 1 year and 2 months makes it utterly exhausting and I'm running out of good mood juice. But I'm trying. So please bare with me while I attempt to get all of this (emotions n shit) back under control. If I snap at you or ignore you or seem like I've written you off, I haven't. I just want all the other crap to end so that I can get back to my happy, bubbly self (or as happy and bubbly as I'm capable).
I love you and sorry I'm so long winded. :)
Sunday, November 20, 2011
One Million Moms....w.o.w.
I wish I could say that I weren't shocked by the blatant hate exhibited on a website that was designed by spouting off Christian beliefs and ideals, but I am. I really really am shocked. It's utterly amazing to me that these people are actively fighting against organizations like Girl Scouts of America simply because they accepted a transgendered girl into their fold. First of all, bravo to GSA for making a decision that will go to help future girls with the same problems. Second, it's obvious to me that these women have perfect children, with no birth issues, coping issues or physical issues that require a little understanding. Either that or each and every one of these women have severe difficulties with reality and medication control.
Transgender and hermaphroditic children are not a product of a Godless family, a lack of prayer, or any other religious affiliation. It is Biology. And the more quickly that we can assist these children in learning to be who they are, not be ashamed, and not have to deal with the hatred brought on by holier-than-thou (literally) Christian...assholes. Believe me, their lives are going to be hard enough without adding to it.
Now don't get me wrong, I think that their idea to send letters to companies who are supporting teenage and children programming that involve a high amount of sexual or inappropriate content should be applauded. Keeping children children until they are no longer children should be the goal of every good parent, in my opinion. I, also, am all about having good Christian values. But my idea of good Christian values does NOT involve acts of hate for those who do NOT share those values. That, in point of fact, makes you a horrible Christian. That kind of hatred perpetuates hate crimes that go beyond words. That kind of hatred is contagious. It justifies your children growing up with hatred, instead of light.
I am not a mother. But I believe I can honestly say that my convictions and ideals about how human beings should treat each other, no matter how they personally believe, will not change should my becoming a mother ever become a reality.
To date, One Million Moms has taken issue with the following:
Polyamorous relationships
Gay rights
Girl Scouts of America (citing GSA's promotion of lesbianism)
Old Navy (for going gay)
Family Guy (which I sort of get from a mother's standpoint, but it's funny)
Disney (for allowing Gay Day to happen in their park)
Oprah (really?? For interviewing Jenna Jameson)
Armani Exchange (for the audacity to occasionally show models that are same-sex)
7-Eleven (for carrying the Playboy issue in which Marge Simpson posed....*blink*)
Avon
Home Depot
CBS
Good Morning America
...
And the list gone on...and on...and on.. What probably upsets me more than the random acts of pure unadulterated hatred is the fact that at the cool mention from a few zealots, many of the companies that they are so venomously bashing and harassing, are removing support and ad space from these issues.
Well, I think it's time to stand up for the other side. I would like to support the right to remove One Million Moms because it is doing nothing more than offending my very nature with its prejudice and hatred. I think we should all stand and take action now! Boycott them, their ideals and their lives. I also thing that we should remind them of the Joy part about the Christianity thing. Because coming from them, it sounds like a profanity. Oh....and I sincerely recommend therapy for the head "moms" for believe the way that they do. :)
Transgender and hermaphroditic children are not a product of a Godless family, a lack of prayer, or any other religious affiliation. It is Biology. And the more quickly that we can assist these children in learning to be who they are, not be ashamed, and not have to deal with the hatred brought on by holier-than-thou (literally) Christian...assholes. Believe me, their lives are going to be hard enough without adding to it.
Now don't get me wrong, I think that their idea to send letters to companies who are supporting teenage and children programming that involve a high amount of sexual or inappropriate content should be applauded. Keeping children children until they are no longer children should be the goal of every good parent, in my opinion. I, also, am all about having good Christian values. But my idea of good Christian values does NOT involve acts of hate for those who do NOT share those values. That, in point of fact, makes you a horrible Christian. That kind of hatred perpetuates hate crimes that go beyond words. That kind of hatred is contagious. It justifies your children growing up with hatred, instead of light.
I am not a mother. But I believe I can honestly say that my convictions and ideals about how human beings should treat each other, no matter how they personally believe, will not change should my becoming a mother ever become a reality.
To date, One Million Moms has taken issue with the following:
Polyamorous relationships
Gay rights
Girl Scouts of America (citing GSA's promotion of lesbianism)
Old Navy (for going gay)
Family Guy (which I sort of get from a mother's standpoint, but it's funny)
Disney (for allowing Gay Day to happen in their park)
Oprah (really?? For interviewing Jenna Jameson)
Armani Exchange (for the audacity to occasionally show models that are same-sex)
7-Eleven (for carrying the Playboy issue in which Marge Simpson posed....*blink*)
Avon
Home Depot
CBS
Good Morning America
...
And the list gone on...and on...and on.. What probably upsets me more than the random acts of pure unadulterated hatred is the fact that at the cool mention from a few zealots, many of the companies that they are so venomously bashing and harassing, are removing support and ad space from these issues.
Well, I think it's time to stand up for the other side. I would like to support the right to remove One Million Moms because it is doing nothing more than offending my very nature with its prejudice and hatred. I think we should all stand and take action now! Boycott them, their ideals and their lives. I also thing that we should remind them of the Joy part about the Christianity thing. Because coming from them, it sounds like a profanity. Oh....and I sincerely recommend therapy for the head "moms" for believe the way that they do. :)
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Changes
I realize that our lives are forever changing. But when you are involved in the daily process, it's hard to notice the changes that happen over time. The big changes are more significant and that's where I am now. Change is something I have never been rightly comfortable with. I suppose most people I know are that way. I'm not good at the pain and all the negative things that tend to come with pain, although I am getting better at it. The idea doesn't seem as insurmountable as it once did.
I suppose the biggest change in the last year was the loss of my mother. It's been a very odd year. Most days are good and seem like everything is going well and the death of my mother, while ever present, doesn't seem like that big of a deal. I think it's all perspective, but that's not really the point. Of course, there are other days that I feel the pain of that huge loss very deeply and very acutely. It has helped tremendously in the last three months that I've met someone and already am feeling those touches of long-term love effects.
His name is Brandon. And he is good for me. He's made me realize that I can do all of these things I want to do and have been stalling about. He is actually a lot alike me in those ways and I believe that we can motivate each other forward to get some big life things accomplished. I admit that it makes me nervous to be in love with someone after such a short time, but not so much that it scares me away from the idea. I've been hesitant to talk about it up until now just in case it turns out bad. But after three months, I don't feel the need to kill him or harm him in some way. That, alone, speaks volumes about him and the way I feel about him because my level of intolerance for other people in my personal space is almost infamous and has been a source of amusement among my friends for many years. I am withholding all my professions of a life together, no matter how often he and I speak about it, until we have had our first big fight and have survived it. It doesn't even seem to be on the horizon and I'm not looking to cause it.
He is a good guy and comes from a good family. What family I've met so far I like and it seems that they like me. At least, they have no major objections to me so far. I'm happy about that. He has a very deep respect for his parents and I would very much like them to love me, in time. There were some initial tensions about how his family would feel about me. I am the first white girl he has ever dated. While he is not the first black guy that I've dated, knowing how that was for me, I was nervous at the reaction his family would have. They don't seem to care much about that as much as they are concerned that he will end up hurt. That makes me like them even more. I knew how my immediate family would react. Their only contention, for the years they've known that I am not the personality type to stay within one specific race, was that he is a good guy and that I'm happy. I love that my family raised me that way and feel that way as well. I'm still not sure how the rest of my family will react, but I'll be honest, I don't care. They are not involved in my relationship with him and won't be. However, it does say a lot about Brandon that I am looking forward to introducing him to my extended family so that they get to know him. He is one of the few I've ever brought home, of any race.
I am currently revising my resume and am ready to join the real world again. I thank the time I had here at Walmart to spend a year with minimal responsibility. Walmart also introduced me to the man I plan on spending many many more years with. So I'm not unhappy about the time I've spent there, but I am not a retail lifer. I can never be enough of a kiss-ass to middle-management to stay in retail. I'm more suited to a situation where I can speak my mind when I find problems and not be made into a bad seed because of it. I'm not saying that's what Walmart, specifically, is doing. It's just the magical world of retail, like it or not. Don't rock the boat. Don't tip that delicate balance of making more money than people should have while trying to pretend to care about the customer's needs. It's not me.
So, I am going to take some advice from my father and start sending out my resume looking for a researching job. Even if it's a crap job with a crap company to start, I need some job experience doing it. I have plenty of personal experience researching random information. I love it. And I think that over the last few years, between my genealogy and school, I've discovered a natural talent for it. My biggest problems in find a job doing that will be my lack of a degree in any related field and companies that may not have a need for it. I'm hoping that there are companies that have a need for it, but don't know it yet and are willing to give me a chance to prove myself. It's worth a shot. I can't keep doing what I'm doing. It doesn't pay my bills, almost at all, I'm not happy doing it and I feel like I'm too smart to keep doing what I'm doing. I refuse to stay in this rut. So I'm wishing myself luck and am going to attempt to get out of my comfort zone and try and imagine myself doing something I've never imaged before. It will be an interesting adventure.
I suppose the biggest change in the last year was the loss of my mother. It's been a very odd year. Most days are good and seem like everything is going well and the death of my mother, while ever present, doesn't seem like that big of a deal. I think it's all perspective, but that's not really the point. Of course, there are other days that I feel the pain of that huge loss very deeply and very acutely. It has helped tremendously in the last three months that I've met someone and already am feeling those touches of long-term love effects.
His name is Brandon. And he is good for me. He's made me realize that I can do all of these things I want to do and have been stalling about. He is actually a lot alike me in those ways and I believe that we can motivate each other forward to get some big life things accomplished. I admit that it makes me nervous to be in love with someone after such a short time, but not so much that it scares me away from the idea. I've been hesitant to talk about it up until now just in case it turns out bad. But after three months, I don't feel the need to kill him or harm him in some way. That, alone, speaks volumes about him and the way I feel about him because my level of intolerance for other people in my personal space is almost infamous and has been a source of amusement among my friends for many years. I am withholding all my professions of a life together, no matter how often he and I speak about it, until we have had our first big fight and have survived it. It doesn't even seem to be on the horizon and I'm not looking to cause it.
He is a good guy and comes from a good family. What family I've met so far I like and it seems that they like me. At least, they have no major objections to me so far. I'm happy about that. He has a very deep respect for his parents and I would very much like them to love me, in time. There were some initial tensions about how his family would feel about me. I am the first white girl he has ever dated. While he is not the first black guy that I've dated, knowing how that was for me, I was nervous at the reaction his family would have. They don't seem to care much about that as much as they are concerned that he will end up hurt. That makes me like them even more. I knew how my immediate family would react. Their only contention, for the years they've known that I am not the personality type to stay within one specific race, was that he is a good guy and that I'm happy. I love that my family raised me that way and feel that way as well. I'm still not sure how the rest of my family will react, but I'll be honest, I don't care. They are not involved in my relationship with him and won't be. However, it does say a lot about Brandon that I am looking forward to introducing him to my extended family so that they get to know him. He is one of the few I've ever brought home, of any race.
I am currently revising my resume and am ready to join the real world again. I thank the time I had here at Walmart to spend a year with minimal responsibility. Walmart also introduced me to the man I plan on spending many many more years with. So I'm not unhappy about the time I've spent there, but I am not a retail lifer. I can never be enough of a kiss-ass to middle-management to stay in retail. I'm more suited to a situation where I can speak my mind when I find problems and not be made into a bad seed because of it. I'm not saying that's what Walmart, specifically, is doing. It's just the magical world of retail, like it or not. Don't rock the boat. Don't tip that delicate balance of making more money than people should have while trying to pretend to care about the customer's needs. It's not me.
So, I am going to take some advice from my father and start sending out my resume looking for a researching job. Even if it's a crap job with a crap company to start, I need some job experience doing it. I have plenty of personal experience researching random information. I love it. And I think that over the last few years, between my genealogy and school, I've discovered a natural talent for it. My biggest problems in find a job doing that will be my lack of a degree in any related field and companies that may not have a need for it. I'm hoping that there are companies that have a need for it, but don't know it yet and are willing to give me a chance to prove myself. It's worth a shot. I can't keep doing what I'm doing. It doesn't pay my bills, almost at all, I'm not happy doing it and I feel like I'm too smart to keep doing what I'm doing. I refuse to stay in this rut. So I'm wishing myself luck and am going to attempt to get out of my comfort zone and try and imagine myself doing something I've never imaged before. It will be an interesting adventure.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Words
Words can do funny things to you. They can incite beauty, pain, memories, hatred, and a plethora of other emotions and actions. They get us motivated, whether for good or evil. I am greatly affected by words in my life. The simplest of them bring me great joy. From a man, all I need to hear is "mine" to make me soar.
It's easy to tell someone that words are just words. And sometimes they are. They are so often empty of any real emotion. It depends on the situations and circumstance.
I have always been a big reader. A careful compilation of words can totally immerse me into a new world and let me escape. And most importantly, to me, words allow me to express myself in ways that very little else does.
Unfortunately when you are so affected by words, they can cripple you just as easily as make your life more enriched. Last night some words were spoken to me in a drunken state that hurt me to my core. Rationally, I know that they weren't meant in the spirit of hatred that they were said. But that makes little difference when they are emotional in nature. They hit to the very core of what I sometimes already feel.
I love my family. I am a very firm believer in the fact that no matter what problems there mat be in your family, you should support them when they need it and knock them down when they need it. And they should do the same for you.
The words that hurt me last night will stay with me for a long time and it may be awhile before I can feel forgiveness for them. I don't need help in feeling guilty about my mother or bad about my seeming inability to have children. The fact that these reminders came from someone in my own family is what is making this so hard to deal with. I may overstep my bounds on occasion, but it doesn't matter. I'll be ok. I know that I'm a good person with a big heart and I'm not going to let these words affect me in the long term. But for now I need to feel this pain so that, eventually, I can forgive this pain.
It's easy to tell someone that words are just words. And sometimes they are. They are so often empty of any real emotion. It depends on the situations and circumstance.
I have always been a big reader. A careful compilation of words can totally immerse me into a new world and let me escape. And most importantly, to me, words allow me to express myself in ways that very little else does.
Unfortunately when you are so affected by words, they can cripple you just as easily as make your life more enriched. Last night some words were spoken to me in a drunken state that hurt me to my core. Rationally, I know that they weren't meant in the spirit of hatred that they were said. But that makes little difference when they are emotional in nature. They hit to the very core of what I sometimes already feel.
I love my family. I am a very firm believer in the fact that no matter what problems there mat be in your family, you should support them when they need it and knock them down when they need it. And they should do the same for you.
The words that hurt me last night will stay with me for a long time and it may be awhile before I can feel forgiveness for them. I don't need help in feeling guilty about my mother or bad about my seeming inability to have children. The fact that these reminders came from someone in my own family is what is making this so hard to deal with. I may overstep my bounds on occasion, but it doesn't matter. I'll be ok. I know that I'm a good person with a big heart and I'm not going to let these words affect me in the long term. But for now I need to feel this pain so that, eventually, I can forgive this pain.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Restless Thoughts
There are many words that I consider vulgar. None of those are any of the normal vulgarity referred to by the common public. Words that are vulgar to me are those associated with meanings or emotions I find to be particularly vulgar on a day-to-day basis. Vulnerability, loneliness, betrayal, infertile, and a host of other similar types of words are the worst ones you can use...
The worst word in that one is vulnerability. All of the other vulgarity involved in my word list tie into that one. I was vulnerable as a child because I was a child. I was naive to the world around me and I'm thankful that I was. There are so many worse options. I stayed vulnerable because I had compassion, tenderness and, unfortunately for me, I wore my heart on my shoulder. Many situations that took that vulnerability for granted caused me to harden up and become much harder to hurt (visibly). If you've ever read anything I've written, it's obvious that I still wear it on my sleeve, I've just put a thin protective covering over it.
I am still, consistently, shocked by the behavior of people. As much of the bad, sad, difficult, unimaginable (etc) that I've witnessed as there has been, and I find it amazing that my vulnerability is so fragile that I'm nearly devastated by the simple, hurtful acts that some people show towards others, animals, and themselves. I'm not talking about any particular thing that has happened recently. But rather, everything I witness that shocks me to my core, whether those around me realize it or not.
In no particular order, these are a few of the things I've witnessed recently that have caused my hair to stand on end and my heart to become a little sadder. A man stepped on a mouse and killed it because (he says) it was going to bite him. He was wearing boots and the mouse was on the ground; A woman blatantly talking about someone who was in earshot, making hurtful remarks about that person and then shrugging it off when noticed; the very recent shooting in Arizona of several people, killing and wounding many; one woman's negativity so affecting those around her that their negativity affects everyone like a wave; the wishing of people dead just because their views aren't shared...
A lot of the things I find shocking seem trivial on a broad scale, but they aren't to me. My brother once said that I was empathetic and at the time I just sort of rolled my eyes and chalked it up to everyone being able to put themselves in someone else's shoes. I have thought quite a bit about that in the years since he said it and I think that maybe he's right. There is a group of people in Slidell that I actually have quite a bit in common with socially. But I refuse to meet them and hang out with them when they are all together because I can feel the negativity and vampire-esq attitudes of those that attend. Individually I like them just fine, but as a group they leave the metaphorical metallic taste of blood in my mouth.
I realize that when I write, I write a lot of depressing and negative...prose? But I only write when I have things weighing my mind down. Sometimes it is about me and other times it isn't. Then again, there are times, like now, when it's a bit of both. I'm really not like this all the time. I LOVE to laugh. I love to look for the humor in all situations. I love to see beauty in anything from another person, to a sign on a building. I love to entertain and make people around me feel good. When you hear me making funny, sarcastic and dry comments and then turn around and be sugary sweet to someone I don't know, don't assume that I'm faking that change or the things I'm saying. I am genuinely happy to help in any way I can... and to anyone that needs it. The beauty in the human world, and most definitely outside of it, is so infinite and so (here's that word again) vulnerable that it hurts me to my core to see anything mess that up.
When I'm down and can't give you a reason as to why, just understand that it isn't going to last. I will find beauty again. You just have to give me time to work out my disappointment in whatever I've seen, done or heard.
The worst word in that one is vulnerability. All of the other vulgarity involved in my word list tie into that one. I was vulnerable as a child because I was a child. I was naive to the world around me and I'm thankful that I was. There are so many worse options. I stayed vulnerable because I had compassion, tenderness and, unfortunately for me, I wore my heart on my shoulder. Many situations that took that vulnerability for granted caused me to harden up and become much harder to hurt (visibly). If you've ever read anything I've written, it's obvious that I still wear it on my sleeve, I've just put a thin protective covering over it.
I am still, consistently, shocked by the behavior of people. As much of the bad, sad, difficult, unimaginable (etc) that I've witnessed as there has been, and I find it amazing that my vulnerability is so fragile that I'm nearly devastated by the simple, hurtful acts that some people show towards others, animals, and themselves. I'm not talking about any particular thing that has happened recently. But rather, everything I witness that shocks me to my core, whether those around me realize it or not.
In no particular order, these are a few of the things I've witnessed recently that have caused my hair to stand on end and my heart to become a little sadder. A man stepped on a mouse and killed it because (he says) it was going to bite him. He was wearing boots and the mouse was on the ground; A woman blatantly talking about someone who was in earshot, making hurtful remarks about that person and then shrugging it off when noticed; the very recent shooting in Arizona of several people, killing and wounding many; one woman's negativity so affecting those around her that their negativity affects everyone like a wave; the wishing of people dead just because their views aren't shared...
A lot of the things I find shocking seem trivial on a broad scale, but they aren't to me. My brother once said that I was empathetic and at the time I just sort of rolled my eyes and chalked it up to everyone being able to put themselves in someone else's shoes. I have thought quite a bit about that in the years since he said it and I think that maybe he's right. There is a group of people in Slidell that I actually have quite a bit in common with socially. But I refuse to meet them and hang out with them when they are all together because I can feel the negativity and vampire-esq attitudes of those that attend. Individually I like them just fine, but as a group they leave the metaphorical metallic taste of blood in my mouth.
I realize that when I write, I write a lot of depressing and negative...prose? But I only write when I have things weighing my mind down. Sometimes it is about me and other times it isn't. Then again, there are times, like now, when it's a bit of both. I'm really not like this all the time. I LOVE to laugh. I love to look for the humor in all situations. I love to see beauty in anything from another person, to a sign on a building. I love to entertain and make people around me feel good. When you hear me making funny, sarcastic and dry comments and then turn around and be sugary sweet to someone I don't know, don't assume that I'm faking that change or the things I'm saying. I am genuinely happy to help in any way I can... and to anyone that needs it. The beauty in the human world, and most definitely outside of it, is so infinite and so (here's that word again) vulnerable that it hurts me to my core to see anything mess that up.
When I'm down and can't give you a reason as to why, just understand that it isn't going to last. I will find beauty again. You just have to give me time to work out my disappointment in whatever I've seen, done or heard.
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