Everybody hurts…sometimes.

22 04 2012

So here’s the long and short of it.

Life is very good. It is also very, very bad. I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be, but lately the bad has been more than I can handle.

On March 1st this year, my grandmother died. It was sort of sudden and unexpected and I still feel so very lost without her. It’s been surreal. I forget all of the time that she’s gone. I’ll think about stopping by on my way to my mom’s and then it hits me. I can’t just drop in. I can’t just pick up the phone. It hurts so bad. I miss her every day. She was so much more than my grandmother. She was one of my best friends. She was my rock. I love my mom, but she’s difficult. My grandmother understood that and would listen to me and help guide me to the right decisions. I don’t know what life without her is going to be like in the long run, but for now it’s been miserable. My anxiety has gotten so bad I let the doctor write me a prescription for xanax. I always thought I was better than that. Not that I’m judging anyone else, I guess I just thought I was stronger.

My health has been fucking with me too. My thyroid is fucked up, I’m deficient in vitamins D and B12, and there is STILL something wrong with my gallbladder/liver/pancreas that they can’t figure out. I’ve paid $1600 for two test that have essentially told me nothing. I’m sick of it. I’m going to consult a GI and if she can’t figure it out, fuck it man. I’m not ever going to give up cheese. If it kills me, at least I can say I’ve eaten my fair share of bellavitano.

So I’m sure all of you are wondering how things are with Manfred. Well. We’re two stubborn ass adults trying to live together. There are good days and bad. I’ll accept a lot of the blame for the recent bad spell we had. I’ve just been an asshole. I’m sad and mopey and everything is OMGSOOVERWHELMING. I am trying to work through it, and be more patient not only with him, but with myself. Besides the brief spell of discord, things have been very good. He came with me to Maui in February and it was so perfect. It was the best vacation I’ve ever taken. And it helped me deal with all the shit that happened after we got home much better.

Cohabitation is hard. I have a lot of my father in me, unfortunately, and that means I am surprisingly OCD. If he doesn’t put something back in the right place, expect war. The laundry situation has gotten so out of hand, I have started to do his for him. I can’t deal with mess. Especially now. I need order. I can’t control how crazy work is, or the fact that my grandmother is gone, but I’ll be damned if my bathroom isn’t sparkling. We’re working through a lot of issues with the house. I know it’s hard for him, but the fact of the matter is, this is our home. It’s not just shelter. It’s our sanctuary. So when it’s stressing us out, that puts a serious damper on our happiness.

But honestly, I am happy. As happy as one can be while going through turmoil. I’m kicking ass at work and I actually do love my job. For real. He infuriates me, but I love Manfred so much it hurts sometimes. He just gets it. He gets ME. And it frustrates him sometimes, but he’s so patient. And for that, I love him so much more. We make a good team. He’s got my back. And he’s not afraid to stand up for me. Now THAT is a refreshing change. He also happens to be super snuggly and smells delicious. But that’s neither here nor there. We’re good for each other. He’s definitely good for me. And at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Knowing we are there for each other and we have someone to come home to…that’s the second best part of my day. Second only to taking my goddamn bra off.

So anyway, that should catch you up on what’s been going on in 2012. Hopefully there will be some great adventures coming soon…

 


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Still standing

18 04 2012

Life has been…interesting this year. Some very good and wonderful things have happened, and some terrible, life changing things have happened.

Now that I share a home with Manfred, it’s been really hard to write here. I crave solitude when I write. I need to be alone with my thoughts. They’ve been taking over lately and I’ve been pretty unbearable. I need this space. So I’ll figure it out. I need A space. My own little corner. Cohabitation is HARD, y’all. I love falling asleep next to him every night, but I’m not always thrilled to trip over his boxers in the hallway. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, though. I am learning a lot about patience. Something I need quite a bit more of.

So when I can sort through everything in my brain, I’ll tell you about all the wonderful things, and when I’m ready, I’ll conquer the big ugly things, too. Bottom line, I’m working on it. I’m really working on trying to make my life better and make me better. It’s been hard, but it’s really starting to pay off. I’m happy. Mostly. The reasons I’m not have nothing to do with anyone but me. And I’m working on those, too. I’m just thankful that I have such an awesome cast of supporting characters in this crazy performance.


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and her temper worse than wildfire it is gunpowder and blows up everything

14 03 2011

I have been pretty grumpy as of late. I’m going through a lot, and it’s all self-inflicted. It’s like another quarter life crisis. I still don’t know what I want to be or where I want to be or how I want to be. When…that question blows my mind. I can’t even deal with when.

I gave up on the idea of grad school. Let’s be real honest here, friends. I’m smart enough, but I’m not dedicated enough. I half-assed college because I didn’t care about 75% of my classes. I spare no time or attention for things that don’t interest me. If it doesn’t totally capture me and make me obsessed…meh. I couldn’t care less.

When I was at our big team meeting in Florida, we had this guest speaker. She was asked to speak, I think, because my company is AWFUL about work life balance. Ya’ll have heard me rage about it before. I’ve gotten to a place where things are (mostly) good and balanced. But she talked about making yourself happy and how basically there won’t be balance in any part of your life if you’re not.

This has been gnawing at the back of my mind ever since.

I’m not happy. I don’t want to live in Ohio. I don’t want to be a graphic designer forever. I don’t know if I want to be with Manfred.

The last one is the one that is killing me. Lately I’m not happy with him. He’s changed. I know, he’s been through a lot the past year. But where was I? Did I not go through it too? Did I not hold his hand and silently reassure him? For what? A surly replacement of a man I fell in love with? I don’t think so. He’s incorrigible. I don’t even think he realizes it. He’s mean and he puts me down and I don’t feel like he supports me. I feel like a fat idiot around him. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. And that’s not how it used to be. I don’t want to get stuck here because of him either. He asks my opinion on shit and he talks about “our house” and “our” this and that. We talk about the future and children but…I don’t know that I want that with him anymore.

I’m not saying I don’t love him, or that I’m going to end it. I’m just saying I have a lot of soul searching to do and a lot of questions to answer. I’m not afraid of being alone. I’m not afraid of starting over. What’s one year compared to eight?

I tried to talk to him this weekend, sort of. He made one shitty comment and eye roll too many and I lost my temper. Not the best way to approach it. He spent the rest of the night giving me the silent treatment. Meanwhile I quietly pretend everything is fine. Oh we’re a fine example of a classic gaelic love affair. Just plod through the misery.

My bright spot in all of this is that Space Cowboy will be home in about three weeks. MY SPACE COWBOY IS COMING HOME! I can’t wait to hear his voice. I’ve been avoiding all my closest friends lately because I don’t want them to hear the sadness in my voice. The defeat. So, nothing personal, lovers. I just don’t know what to say right now. Sometimes saying nothing is easier.

When I opened Space Cowboy’s email this morning, it was like a ray of sunshine. He’ll be home and we’re going to write together and go on trips and have adventures and I know he’ll be different, but I’m different too. We can rediscover each other and ourselves and build and even stronger friendship. He’s the one that I love best.

So that’s what’s up. I’m all full up of emotions and confusion and excitement and sadness. I’m human. I’m going to go to see my mitten clan this weekend and Manfred is going to see his crazy ass Palin loving cousin who lives in the middle of nowhere with his sister. He’s super pissed I’m not going but come on. Does he really expect me to behave for an entire weekend with some Tea Party shopoholic? I can keep my mouth shut around his stupid* Republican friends because it’s in small doses…but that’s just putting a match to a powder keg. Sometimes it’s like he has no idea who I am.

Anyway, I’m going to go back to being quiet now. Everything is fine. Opening day is the day before Space Cowboy comes home. If I can make it until then, I can make it through anything.

*I say stupid and I mean in their retarded uber conservative views. Besides that most of them are quite lovely.


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S.A.D.S.

9 01 2011

I was trying to figure out why I was such a raging see you next Thursday last night and why I slept ALL DAY today and I came up with the following:

  • It’s snowed two days in a row
  • PMS

I think it should be illegal for me to have fluctuating hormones during winter. I nearly bawled my eyes out tonight because I lost my brand new Benefit lip gloss my moms got me for xmas. I called Manfred SO UPSET and asked him to look up the hours for Old Navy so I could stop back by and see if I lost it in the dressing room.

He called Old Navy for me instead.

The other night he went out in the snow to get me Skyline after making sure I was firmly ensconced on the couch with the Crosstown Shootout. He has been giving me the princess treatment lately. I feel awful because I mean seriously? What have I done to deserve this lately? I have been so fucking surly and just out of it the past week. I can’t quite get my shit together. I’m just SAD. Really, really sad.

I know a lot of it is about losing his mom and worrying about my own mom and my grandmother, but I can’t shake it. I have zero motivation at work and I found out yesterday I’m getting a direct report. No promotion to manager or anything. No, we can’t have that. I had a hot minute of ALMOST earning what I’m worth, so they had to fix it so I’m back to working my ass off for half the pay I should be getting. I honestly don’t even care.

The sadness is so all encompassing it’s almost turning into numbness. Now that the dust has settled and everyone has gone and it’s back to our normal life, I’m miserable. Well, that’s not true entirely. Manfred makes me giddy sometimes and we’re actually doing fantastic, but everything else is just awful.

I miss my friends, but I don’t want to see or talk to anyone. When I do talk myself into it I feel anxious around them. I feel disconnected. I don’t know what to say to anyone anymore. I guess Manfred isn’t the only one who has to work on reinventing himself. All of our lives are different now.

Another thing that’s really nagging at my subconscious is Space Cowboy. I wrote him to tell him about Manfred’s mom and another email after that and I have heard nothing. I don’t even know if he got his care pack. Now, I know he’s busy defending our freedoms and all of that, but why the sudden radio silence? He’s been active on facebook, but he hasn’t had anything to say to me about all of this and that’s…odd. I’m trying not to read into it, but it is so out of character for him and I think I’m hurt? Not that I expected him to make it all better, but he’s one of those rare people who always can kind of make it better. I think above all else I just miss him. I miss him so much and I want him home so badly it just aches. I can’t imagine what it’s like for people who have children, husbands or siblings over there. It’s fucking miserable.

A week into 2011 and I’m not any happier than I was in 2010. I don’t have any fewer responsibilities or stressors. I need the ocean. I need to get on a plane and fly somewhere where my cell phone doesn’t work and I can get a tan and little cocktails with frilly umbrellas and exotic fruit juices. I just need to get the fuck away from this godamn snow and cold.


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So it goes

1 01 2011

I hate to come back from a hiatus like this, but here goes.

Mama went home last week.

She fought so hard until the bitter end, but she went peacefully with her two children by her side.

It’s been really hard the past few days, but I have to say we are both blessed with some wonderful friends. To everyone who has reached out with a kind word, or offered to cook for us or just asked how we were doing, thank you.

To Nola, who drove 13 hours to be with us at the memorial service…you are a crazy bitch and you are beyond my best friend. You are another sister. I love you.

If anyone really wants to do something for us, please come bathe the dogs. They stink. Seriously.

I am doing fine. Honestly. I am relieved and I am happy to know that she’s walking down Hallelujah Boulevard hand in hand with her soulmate, Manfred’s daddy. I am sad I didn’t get more time with her, or time with her where she was well, but I really enjoyed the talks we had and before I left her Monday night, I whispered in her ear not to worry, I’d take good care of her boy. And I intend to. No one should be an orphan at 29. I am so lucky to have two sets of parents and I will envelope him in my crazy ass family and we will love him like he’s one of us.

Starting with my sisters. They are arriving with Knuckles tomorrow and I am so excited to see them. It’s been over six months. A very long, hard and miserable six months. Life is going to start going back to “normal” now and I don’t know how he’ll adjust to his “freedom”, but I intend to make 2011 an amazing year for both of us.

I’m really tired and I can sense me not making sense and this is a shit attempt at trying to work through my feelings on all that’s happened the last week so let me say this, to Mama Scotsman…you will be an inspiration to me always. Your kindness, generosity and unconditional love will never be forgotten. I am so thankful that your battle is over, and as your daughter said, I believe you won it. You are no longer with us physically, but you live on in your children and in our hearts. I know you’ll be watching for those grandbabies, but give us all a few more years, ok? We love you. Always.


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I need an escape

18 11 2010

I’m sad.

Can I just be sad for awhile?

I’m going to go to bed and be sad.


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I hate November.

18 11 2010

I’m in a funk. Yesterday was just awful and I almost hit meltdown. I came home and cried a little bit and tried to talk through it with Manfred. Its really difficult to talk to him about any of this because, well…you know?

I feel guilty when I have bad days and sometimes I feel like he just doesn’t understand. I spent a chunk of yesterday reading through this and it seriously made me cry. I was already having a “I hate everything from the hair on my head to my freakishly long toes” kind of day. Sometimes it just makes me more sad to think there are girls and women out there that feel like I do.

It just was a bad day. My hair was icky, work was uncharacteristically awful and I’m pretty sure my seasonal depression has landed. Cold. Grey. Wet.

I feel really selfish right now. I’m trying to not be mad when he doesn’t clean up after himself or plays video games the few precious hours we get to spend together each day. I am trying to be patient, but truth be told, this isn’t easy for me either. Imagine asking someone to watch one of your parents waste away. It’s not fucking easy. Supporting him is my job and I am damn good at it. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t moments that I want to break down and cry and have him hold me and take care of me.

He does take care of me physically. He made me soup last night and homemade hot chocolate the other day. It’s not like he’s ignoring me, but he’s neglecting my emotional needs right now. I know I am being selfish saying that, but I want some me time. Some us time. I want him to want to spend time with ME not Call of Duty. I want to snuggle up and watch a movie. Shit, I’d settle for him coming to bed before I’ve already been in it for hours.

I understand his need to escape and all of that, but what about mine? Am I supposed to just suck it up and deal with it? Am I supposed to pretend I’m not sad? I did that before. I want something different. I want someone who will listen when I tell them what’s wrong, no matter how trivial it is, and just let me cry it out or throw things or yell or whatever I have to do to feel better. I want someone who understands my struggles and why I get upset at myself. And I know he is that person. And I know I have no right to ask him for anything right now, but I’m so fucking tired. I’m spread so thin as it is.

I just want my boyfriend back.


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The bitch of living

5 11 2010

This has been one of the worst weeks of my life.

I think Manfred is about to have a nervous breakdown. It’s one thing to watch your mother die. It’s another to watch her pass back and forth between two worlds.

After months of not fighting, not trying and just being complacent, she is fighting. She is resisting the peace that death will bring her. She wavers between silence and nonsense. After days of not eating of drinking, she begs for food and water. She mumbles about people who aren’t in the room, well…not that the rest of us can see. She cries and says she’s frightened. She says not to worry, she’s strong and she’s fighting. She doesn’t recognize her children. However, last night she nailed my name and called me her daughter-in-law.

She will be taken off of Hospice Continuous Care after tonight. Since she’s been up, alert…ish…and asking for food and drink, they think she doesn’t need any additional care. They also argue the family has been there around the clock so therefor…

I have always spoken highly of Hospice. I have always praised their efforts and their kindness. These bitches…

They denied her a transfer to the Hospice facility. They wouldn’t give a reason…finally Manfred dragged it out of them. Because it’s considered a lateral move, insurance wouldn’t cover the transfer and they would not be reimbursed. Are you fucking kidding me?

Then there was the issue with the agency nurses. I can understand Hospice being short staffed. It takes a special kind of person to do that work. But I don’t believe in filling in with agency nurses. Apparently the one was reading some racist propaganda newspaper. And the nurses at the nursing home…one of them blatantly told Mama she didn’t believe she was dying. That went over real well. They also argued with the family about how much meds they’re giving her. They’re accusing the family of overmedicating her and knocking her out.

When she’s awake she’s in pain, confused and scared. She upsets herself and the kids. The meds make her calm and comfortable. Why would you want any other alternative to that?

It’s a horrible, slow and excruciating process. Last night, I dragged Manfred out and he was so upset that he said he can’t go any more. He told his sister he needs to go see someone, and talk to someone because he can’t deal with her hanging on like this. No one wants to lose a loved one, but after you’ve watched someone you love suffer and struggle for so long, you pray for peace. You pray for relief. For them and for yourself. It’s a very horrible position to be in, but at the end of the day, you know that the only way it’s going to get better is for it to end.

For now, all my future scheduled appearances have been canceled. No Atlanta to see Jami. No Detroit for Thanksgiving with my sister. Even going to work is a struggle right now. I can’t stand to be apart from him.

After a long (wonderful) talk with Guam earlier this week, he put a lot of it into perspective for me. We talked a lot about my tragedy and his. I won’t go into his battle right now, but he knows my thoughts and prayers are with him and his beautiful family.

Guam  has always been a good sounding board for me. I don’t even think when I talk to him. I don’t block or deflect, I just talk. I surprise myself with the insight he pulls out of me. He is a rare person in that I trust him completely and I never put my guard up with him. He forces me to think of things in different ways. For example, Manfred is a dude. He requires different things. He doesn’t want to talk, there’s nothing I can say, but my sheer presence is immeasurable. Just being in the same room helps. That’s made it both easier and harder for me. I hate to leave him for any amount of time, but I want to respect the fact that he needs some time to himself to reflect and cope.

Chi is in town and will hopefully be in my possession this evening. Some friends brought us dinner the other night and other friends are supposed to do the same on Saturday. We are so lucky to have so many amazing people to count on right now.

I just keep praying for this to all be over. For her to pass peacefully and for Manfred to find some much needed relief.


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1 11 2010

I don’t even have the words for how tired I am.

I wish I could say NOLA cured my pain, as usual, but this time it didn’t.

Not to say I didn’t enjoy myself or my fabulous company. There are few people I would have trusted myself around as much as Savannah and Nola.

Another reading. Another phenomenal experience.

Shitstorm brewing at home.

I got to Manfred’s at nearly 1am last night. We talked for awhile but really the best part was just being able to physically be together after a really rough week apart.

Mama is going. Quickly. Manfred and his sister have been with her nearly 24/7 the past few days. Words cannot describe the guilt I felt at being gone. I was ready for the fight when I got home. New Orleans may not have put my worries at ease, but she did prepare me. My lady friends helped too. More than they probably even know.

I went up to see Mama tonight and the change a week has made is staggering. It won’t be much longer. Shocking, no. But that doesn’t make this any easier. But I’ll be godamned if I don’t have my game face and my big girl pants on. So please, forgive me if I’m withdrawn, or just plain out ignore you right now. It is taking every atom of strength I possess to make it through this and to be there for Manfred. Nola always says I take great care of everyone. I hope she’s right.

I made the kids dinner tonight and just let them talk. Anything I can do, they know I’m just up the street. I’ve got a book and a blanket. I even kept pants on in case I need to get in the car and drive up there in a hurry.

My heart is breaking. I may not have understood Manfred’s Mama, but she was sweet. Her choices and lifestyle were foreign to me, but I know she loved her kids and her husband more than anything. And I know she will be terribly missed by all of us. I also know that we all want her suffering to end and her peace to come. So please, prayers, good thoughts, positive energy…however you do it…please send some to my sweet pea and his sister. I can only imagine what they’re going through and I hope that they can find peace as well.


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Someday you will be loved

23 09 2010

I had a moment of indignant, self-righteous preachiness today. I try to avoid those, but sometimes…they need to happen.

This girl is not fat.

Disclaimer: not my ass

I follow her on tumblr. I absolutely adore her tattoo and she entertains me. Plus, I think she is adorable. Someone left her an anonymous question.

“Anonymous asked: If your tattoo wasn’t at the top of that pic I wouldn’t think it was you. You’re way bigger than that aren’t you? Is that recent? Have you lost weight?

No offense intended.”

Well clearly, as we all know, “no offense intended” is code for “I AM TRYING TO OFFEND YOU BUT AT THE SAME TIME NOT LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE! WHEEE!!”

Now, here’s the thing, the internet is basically a playground for adults, am I right? Of course I am. So we feel safe hiding behind our laptops and mocking people’s bad youtube videos, pictures of their ugly kids or the size of their asses. The thing is, this girl isn’t fat. At all. She looks amazing. I wish I was her size. So why is it ok to tell her she’s anything other than beautiful? Why are people so mean? I mean the obvious answer is insecurity blah, blah, blah.

But why is this ok?

As I have mentioned, I have a LOT of body image issues. A lot of people tell me every day how pretty I am. But there were a lot of people when I was a kid who made fun of me. And thanks to puberty, I had C-cup boobies by 8th grade. I have blonde hair, was a healthy kid with a little ski slope nose. I got called Miss Piggy all through grade school.

Once I developed hips, an ass and tits…forget it. College brought binge drinking and cheap food and I gained a lot of weight. So much that apparently my ex’s “friends” used to make fun of me to his face when I wasn’t around. So he cheated on me. With a skinny bitch. All of those years of torment and then the moment I realized I lost my boyfriend to someone who was skinny…it sucked. It sucked so bad. I never thought I would come out of it.

I started working out obsessively and stopped eating. I was depressed and I HATED myself and I HATED my body. I thought my nose was too wide and my eyes could use a lift. Was my chin prominent enough? Were my boobs starting to sag? This went on for months until my heart started to heal and I realized that it wasn’t because my ass had its own zip code that he left. He left because he left. He met someone else. That was that.

As I came to terms with the situation and I started to let happiness creep back into my life, I started gaining weight back. I dyed my blonde hair black because I figured maybe if I changed something I could control easily, I would be happier with my looks. Well, I faked it pretty well for awhile. I felt like a different person. But deep inside I knew I was still that awkward teenager with a little extra chunk.

I tried everything to mask my insecurity. I started covering every inch of my body that wasn’t visible with moderate clothing with ink. I pierced up my ears, my nose and gauged my lobes. I created a persona. I was too bad ass to care about what anyone thought. No one was going to call a girl with a half sleeve fat. She may kick their ass.

But still, insecurity and unhappiness lingered.

I went back to blonde. I started dressing differently. I tried to “hide” my “flaws”. I reconnected with Manfred. He told me I was gorgeous. STILL, it hasn’t been enough. I don’t want people to say it. I’m not looking for that and honestly, it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference. I want to FEEL it. I still won’t bare my legs. They are so white and fat and just gross. I hate my calves more than any other part of my body. So, I bought skinny jeans. They don’t make me look any fatter than my normal jeans, I told myself. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. I bought leggings. The lycra scourge. I still don’t know what to wear them with, besides under dresses this fall. If fall ever gets here. But those are small steps to accepting myself and trying to be happy with what I have.

I know there are many of you, and I know who you are, who will tell me if I just diet and exercise, etc, etc. Well, I’m not fat because of my eating habits. I am extremely lazy, this is true. I have a job that sucks my will to live out of me 40+ hours a week and let’s please not discuss the hot mess that is my personal life. By the time I make it through my day I’m exhausted. I do not physically have the energy it would take to do any sort of exercise program that would have any impact, honestly. Not to mention the fact that I am in a big financial mess too and I’m sorry, but I don’t have the money to blow on a gym membership or classes every month. Maybe next year, but right now it ain’t happening.

So I know that I could do things better or differently and maybe I would start to see changes and like myself more. But after years of self loathing, how do you undo that damage? How do you look in the mirror after 28 years of not liking what you see and say “yes, this is beautiful”?

I guess that is just going to have to be next year’s battle. 2010 has totally defeated me at this point. Maybe next year will be the year I learn to love myself, eye wrinkles, fat calves, wide nose and all.


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