Daily Post 123: First Adult Decision of Unemployment


I am now part of the ranks of the unemployed.


I finished up wiping my laptop yesterday morning. I went to school to print out emails. I used to have a folder on my laptop. “Good Stuff”. It was where I kept all of the good emails I had received over the four years I worked there. Thank you emails for something I had done. The nominations I got for the PROPS award. Congratulations emails for different things I achieved. You know… good stuff that made me feel warm and fuzzy.


I printed out all of those emails so I could keep them. I got to see Donna while I was upstairs printing things out. And Steve. I got to say goodbye to them.


I had hoped to get to the gym after printing my emails out, but I didn’t have time. Instead I had to go over to the HR department and do my exit interview. It was pretty painless. They explained how my benefits would work. They explained my 401k. I filled out a survey and then, at the  very end, she gave me a sheet and said if I wanted to, no obligation, I could write about my time at Full Sail.


I thought about it for a minute. I thought about not writing and just leaving things as they are / were. But I ended up taking the piece of paper and I wrote. I wrote and wrote and wrote.


“People are not cogs.” Was the very first line.


I wrote about how I spent two weeks sleeping in a hospital room being grateful that my mom woke up each morning, breathing. I wrote how I was lucky enough to have had two weeks of vacation time to cover my absence. I wrote about how mom died and I had to spend a week waiting for her ashes. A week I had to use sick time to cover for. I wrote about how I had to fly on a plane with mom’s ashes to South Carolina where I spent another week visiting people, consoling them, and setting up the memorial service. A week I was given bereavement time for.


I wrote about how when I finally got back home that I took a week off to begin my grieving and to try to figure out my life. A week I wasn’t paid for. A week my supervisor wrote a personal check to cover for me so I could pay my expenses. A check I paid back using my inheritance money.


I wrote how it didn’t matter that I was a PROPS recipient, or that I worked, unpaid, after hours to help my students. It didn’t matter that while being a full-time employee I was also working on a Digital Graphics degree. The only thing the school had cared about was that I wasn’t being a diligent cog and grinding away in the machine. Because I was being human I didn’t deserve to get paid.


I wrote how I wouldn’t be coming back to the school. That during this event that I deserved to not have to worry about how I was going to pay rent. I deserved to not have to worry about losing my home  after just having lost my mom. I shouldn’t have had to choose between my family, my well being, and my pay check.


I signed and dated my paper, placed my pencil down with most likely too much force, and slid the paper to the woman.


Her: “You wrote a lot.”

Me: “Yeah. It’s not the happiest letter.”

Her: “That’s ok. It doesn’t have to be.”


It was cathartic. It was my “fuck you” to the school. I’m not leaving because of my boss. I’m leaving because the school did nothing to support me, help me, care for me. All of the things I had done in the past to prove that I was a worthwhile employee, a worthwhile person, meant nothing.


Fine. I don’t have to stay. I don’t  have to chain myself to a place that disregards my input and treats me like a number, like an inanimate object. I’m a human. I deserve to be treated like a human. With love. Compassion. Understanding. Respect. And I refuse to accept anything less than that.


So that was done. After the interview I went to lab, which was the longest lab I have ever sat through. Clavan came in and asked if I wanted to do dinner afterward. I said yes. At least getting dinner would let me get a drink. It would give me something to mark my last day. An act of clousre.


After lab was done I walked out of the building, turned around, and took a picture of the doors that I have walked in and out of for the last six years of my life. I posted the picture on Facebook  saying thank you for an amazing six years. Even with all of the BS that happened during my time at the school I still feel like I grew a lot as a person. I have met life long friends that I’m not going to lose touch with. I don’t want to undo or change any of my time. I’m sad for it to be ending, but I’m happy that it happened and there are several moments I will cherish.


I walked over to Clavan’s office. I saw Joe while I was leaving, my boss’s boss.  We said our farewells and that was it. Clavan and I ended up going to my sports bar. I had an Angry Orchard. It helped me relax. It was  nice to have someone to share a drink with because I didn’t want to have a drink alone, but I really wanted a drink. It was only one. I was fine to drive. I wasn’t smashed or anything.


When we were leaving he gave me another hug. He, too, said I was a beautiful soul and that he knew I would do well. Queue mini cry session in my car. What is it with people telling me I’m a beautiful soul? I guess that’s going to be one of my truths.


I’m Jennifer Conley and I am a beautiful soul.


I need to meditate more on that one. Just like I need to meditate more on “I really will be ok”. In general I need to meditate.




I came back to my room and felt lonely. Sad. I was beginning to process through everything. I had also been messaging Warren #1 for most of the day, explaining my feelings about V. That’s another thing I’m having to process through.


I messaged V the other night and the conversation ended up turning to goodbyes and I said how he was going to be one of the people I miss. He said, “It’ll be ok.” And the weird thing is… I believe him. One way or another it will work out however it’s supposed to work out.


That mentality is reinforced by a dream I had last night. I don’t remember much about it. The details are already fading. But I was me. I was thin, healthy, the me I picture after a few months at the dojang and conditioning like I want. I was walking towards a building. I don’t remember what it was for. I remember I was  dressed nice. In heels I think. I remember something happening at the building and walking away from it. The more I think about it the more I think it was school for some reason. Maybe that’s just me filling in details that I shouldn’t be.


Anyway I was walking away from the building. I think there were people around. Like, it was an audition or something. And people were outside waiting. I remember walking by a person. There was a table with shoes on it. It might have only been one shoe. I only remember one being important, but it would have been silly to not have at least a pair…


The person was crying. They were overweight. They were sad and nervous. What if they didn’t make it? What if they weren’t good enough? Self-doubt. Insecurity. All things I feel and face daily. I think this person, too, was me, though I wasn’t playing her role in the dream.


Thin me stood by the table. I remember picking up a shoe. It was a high heel. Red. There was an ankle strap with feathers or some sort of fluff around it. It wasn’t a shoe I would wear, but I held it and sort of played with it  while I talked to the other women.


“It’s about trying. It doesn’t matter if you win. It matters that you tried and did your best. Be happy with you and it will be ok.”


I woke up knowing that the dream was about V and myself. I don’t know why or how I know, but I do. I feel a bit more secure, but it’s still something I need to meditate on. I’m really slacking off on the whole meditation, figuring my shit out, thing. I guess that’s why I’m taking a year off. To figure it all out.


Last night ended up being alright. I eventually got up, ordered a pizza, went to the store and got booze, then came home and played Witcher III for about 30 minutes before going to sleep. Chill night. Nothing major happened. I would have rather spent it as a blanket burrito being hugged by someone, but alas, I don’t have that option. Instead I ordered a brownie with my pizza because for once I actually did want some chocolate in my life.


First Adult Decision of Unemployment

Pizza and Strong Bow
with a brownie
followed by gaming


Seems like a legit adult decision.


Today feels like a low day. Like a sad day. We’ll see how it turns out.


Daily Post 122: Another Truth


Today my day is the remnants of yesterday. Today my day is better. Today my day is apprehension about tomorrow. Today my day is a day.


The night before last was hard. I slept curled around mom’s urn again as I cried myself to sleep. I slept deeply once I was able to, but I didn’t sleep enough. I had to wake up early for a dentist appointment which left half my face numb for the whole day. After my appointment I should have called in and said I wouldn’t be at work. I knew it wouldn’t end well for me if I continued on with everything I had scheduled.


Instead I drove to Sir’s apartment and did laundry. I got to watch Game of Thrones, which was worth it, but by the time laundry was done I had 30 minutes to get to school. Not enough time to go home, or shower, or change clothes. It didn’t help that there was traffic on the interstate, so I was late. Later than I would have been originally because since I was already late I stopped and got food.


I sat through lab. I saw Clavan towards the end. He hugged me and thanked me for his gift. It was hard not to cry. It was already a hard day without the prodding of a looming farewell in my future. I had the beginnings of a headache, one that I knew was going to turn into a migraine. I was talking to a friend and explaining how I was sad, to which he kept suggesting things to try to cheer me up. I didn’t want to be cheered up, though. There’s no “cheering up” when I miss mom because unless mom can magically come back the only thing I can do is breathe through the pain and loneliness. Distractions don’t work for me. Understanding does. I know he meant well but I wanted someone to listen rather than to give me suggestions.


My younger brother gave me that. I told him I was sad and that yesterday was hard.  He said that he understood and was sorry. He gave me a virtual hug and I cried silent tears as I told him I felt alone even though I was in a room full of people. He responded with he understood how that felt, too. We shared in our loss. We shared in our grief, and that small sentence of, “I understand how you feel,” did more to help me feel connected than the paragraphs of text my other friend was sending me.


I needed to be heard. I needed to say, “I’m sad,” and for it to not be a bad thing that needed to be fixed. This isn’t something that is ever going to be fixed. I have sad days and I want to be able to share that with people and for it to not need correcting. I want it to be ok to be sad, because if it’s as ok as everyone keeps telling me it is, then it should be ok rather than lip service.


I think yesterday was so much harder than it needed to be because I didn’t drink enough water. I didn’t drink to replenish what I had cried away the night before. I didn’t eat until too late into the day, and even then I didn’t eat enough. I had an appointment and should have been kind to myself and taken the rest of the day off. I should have gone back home and slept more. I should have done everything differently. I can’t barrel through my days the way I used to. I’m not emotionally or physically in a place where I can do that. If I wear myself down too much physically the depression will creep back in. The sadness. The loneliness. They’re so much harder to contend with when I have nothing in my body to defend against them.


And so yesterday, after spending the day disregarding my body’s gentle reminders to take care of myself I ended up with a migraine which kept me in bed for the rest of the  night. No gym. No writing. No preplanning for today. Just silence and darkness and hoping that sleep would eventually come and give me peace.


I slept most of the night. I only woke up a few times to eat and drink water. I woke up at 9 this morning thinking that would be enough time to have a good breakfast before therapy, only to realize my appointment was at 10 rather than 11.


I didn’t eat breakfast, but I’m ok with that. I made up for it later. I barely made it to therapy on time.  I don’t feel like I made any progress or revelations today. Right now the four year old inside myself is scared and I need to tend to her. That’s basically what today amounted to.


I’m scared of leaving Orlando because it feels like I’m losing everyone here. It feels like I’ll lose them like I lost mom. That they’ll just stop existing. That they’ll be dead and I don’t want that. I’m so… I don’t know… worried, terrified, hurt, sad at the thought of not seeing the people I care about ever again. I don’t want to lose more people in my life because I just lost mom. I’ve already lost such a huge part of my life. I don’t want to lose any more. And it feels like I’m going to when I leave.


We talked about how that yes, there will be a loss when I move, but it’s not the same as how I lost mom. That’s what I have to make my inner child understand. It’s hard though. It’s hard to change a mentality.


Logically I understand it’s different.


Emotionally my brain gives zero fucks about logic. Emotionally I know this change is painful and pain is bad and bad things should be avoided so I should avoid change. Moving is causing pain so there’s an aversion to it now. Now that it’s real, that the emotions are real, it’s something my inner, injured self wants to pull  away from.


I know this is part of the process. I know this is how I grow and change and move forward. Anything worth having is outside of my comfort zone. Trust me I know all of these great, inspirational, spiritual quotes about change and being strong and moving forward…  I get it. I do.


Right now I feel like throwing my hands up and screaming in frustration. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m hoping it works out. I’m hoping it’s worth it. I’m hoping it’s right. Hope is a lot like blind faith. Why is it that I was hard core set on this decision, but now that it’s go time I’m second guessing myself and worrying and freaking out over nothing? Why do emotions have to be illogical? Why can’t they just behave and go back into their designated boxes? Why can’t something just be emotionally easy for a little bit? Why do I get frustrated with myself for feeling? Why can’t I allow myself to feel without giving myself shit for it? I’m pretty sure that was something I was supposed to be working on…


It’s not goodbye. This, me leaving, isn’t goodbye. I’m going to visit Orlando and see most everyone again. Why am I making such a big deal out of moving when I’ve wanted to move for so long now?


I’m not going to back out of it. I’m going to move. Everything is set into motion already. It’s too late to back out of it even if I wanted to.


I talked to John, the property manage for the apartment. I stopped by the office after my therapy session. I told him about the fight Zane and I had, how I wasn’t signed off the lease and how I don’t think I would be able to be signed off even if Zane had filled out the paperwork. I asked what would happen when I moved and wasn’t around to sign the documents. John was understanding and looked into the situation for me and we have a solution now. When / if Zane brings someone in to sign the lease they will sign everything on their end, a copy will be scanned and emailed to me, I will sign things on my end, have it notarized, and then sent back with a copy of my ID. This will include the roommate release paperwork so everything gets done in one go.


I’m happy with that. So at least I can leave Orlando knowing that there’s still an out. And I’m still not financially contributing to the apartment. It’s been three months since all of this started. Three months for Zane to figure something out. I’m not going to feel sorry or guilty. If he wanted me to keep paying rent he shouldn’t have taken my room away from me. I’m still angry. I know one day in my near-ish future I will move past this point. I will no longer feel anger or injustice when I think of him, but right now I still give power to that part of my past, and I’m not at a point where I want to meditate on it. I’m ok with anger at the moment because at least I’m not directing it inwards towards myself.


After settling the apartment stuff I went to my sports bar for lunch. I didn’t have my laptop with me so it was a quick stop. Just eating. No working which was actually a nice change of pace.


I went back home afterwards. I showered, changed, went to work. I took my external hard drive with me so I could begin cleaning up my laptop. I have to turn it in tomorrow.


Tomorrow is my last day of work. Tomorrow there will be no fanfare. Tomorrow I will go in, work, then leave as if nothing special or important were happening. Nothing significant. It will be like any other day. I don’t know how I feel about that fact. I want to mark it somehow. Some way. Maybe a picture as lame as that is. Maybe I’ll write sitting on the curb in front of my building. The building I walked in and out of for six years of my life. Almost a third of my life… It’s sort of crazy to think of it like that.


Tomorrow begins my week of farewells. A week of gaming really. I’m going to have so much time on my hands I’m not going to know what to do with myself. I’m going to sleep and wake up when I want to. I’m going to go to the gym when I want to. I’m going to message people and see if they want to hang out one last time. I’m going to figure out my travel plans. I’m going to organize my things and pack my storage unit. I’m going to play laser tag with the people who care enough to be there. And then on the 11th I’m going to begin a two week trip.  A two week trip that will end at home. True home. Real home.


My home.


I want that so much. Thinking about the farewells hurts, but when I think of what is past those, past the hurt, I smile. I feel happy. I look forward to it. My herb garden. My dojang. My kitchen with my pots and knife set and dish rack. My walk in shower.


I want to be there. I want to go through the exit interview. I want to go through the farewells. I want to go through the traveling.


I want to go home.


And so I guess the biggest part of today is reminding myself that it’s worth it. This pain. It’s worth it. There are things past it. I lose sight of that sometimes. I get caught up in the now. I get caught up in focusing on only the hurt that I forget that there’s a tomorrow. I forget that I’ll be able to hug Jason again. I forget that I’ll see Master Sue again. I forget that there’s all of this positive stuff waiting for me because the only thing I can think of, the only thing I can focus on, is that I’m having to let go.


It’s that moment of jumping from one platform to another. There’s that moment when you’re in the air, caught inbetween, and you wonder if you’ve jumped hard enough, far enough, to make it to the other side. You wonder, question, if you made the right choice.


I know I have. I know I’ll land. I know I’ll stand up afterwards and wonder why I was so scared. But I haven’t landed yet. I’m still in the air, wishing I had solid earth under my feet. I’m still worried that it wasn’t enough. I know where I’m at, and I know where I’ll be.


I just have to breathe and let it happen. I have to trust myself. I have to love myself. I have to hug my inner four year old self and tell her it really will be ok, because it really will be ok. I have to accept that as one of my truths.


My name is Jennifer Conley and I really will be ok.


Daily Post 121: Internet Willing…


Yesterday went well.


I left “home” around 9:30. I’m going to call my extended stay home because that’s lazier faster than typing out extended stay.


I was able to run by school and print a few things out, including my tattoo concept, though that’s a whole ‘nother post for a different time. The locksmith still hadn’t called me so I ran over to the post office. I needed to mail out the promissory note to the bank I had my original car loan. I finally got the address for that. While I was there I checked my PO box but the new checks hadn’t come in yet.


I’m having to overnight the note since it took so long to get the address, but that’s fine. As long as it gets taken care of. I got the phone call I was waiting for while I was standing in line. The locksmith would be at the unit in about 30 minutes. Perfect. I could totally be there in time. So I finished  up what I was doing and headed over to the U-Haul site.


The locksmith sawed off my lock, which was pretty interesting to see. Sad to think that it’s so easy to break into things. I was able to put some stuff into my unit finally, which allowed me to clean up my car. I was also able to finally retrieve things, including my desktop computer.


❤ so much ❤


By the time I was done playing with all my stuff I didn’t have much time before work. I dashed back home to put all of my techy stuff into the room  so it wouldn’t roast in my car, showered, then headed to work. It wasn’t until I was parking in the parking lot that I realized I  had forgotten my badge on my table. So much fail. >.<;


I was still able to get into school and David was awesome enough to let me use his badge to go to the break room to eat my lunch. Overall work went well. I got to reply to several emails, updated a bunch of stuff, and in general was able to keep busy enough that I didn’t need Facebook as a distraction.


After class I saw James outside. He’s in his first month  of Finals. We chatted for a while before I said I needed to go to the gym. Got all the way there, was actually walking into the building when I realized not only did I leave my badge at home, but also my headphones…


For serious, Universe? Fuuuuu….


I knew that I most likely wouldn’t go  back out if I went home. So I sort of made peace with the fact that I most likely wouldn’t be working out and instead went to the grocery store. When I got home I went about setting up my computer. It still works!!!! Yay!!!!


There was a moment of sadness when I booted it up. The web browser was still on the page where I had purchased my plane ticket to Vegas. It was a sobering moment, but I closed out of the tab. That moment happened and I won’t forget it, but it is in my past. It’s ok to close those tabs and to move forward. So I did.


I started installing Witcher III and Star Craft II since I found the box for that in my storage unit. Sometimes you just want to make a giant army and kill things…


Anyway, while that was going I thought about how it would be cool to do yoga in the room, but that with the way it was arrange there wasn’t really the space for it… so I rearranged my room. I love it. There’s a giant open space in the center now, and I spent  about 25 minutes doing a routine for posture. I know that my back and shoulders have rounded over the past months. Not surprising that my heart chakra is closed off with everything that’s been going on.


Well… last night I started taking steps to correct that. It’s always interesting to see where the body stores stress. The tendons along the top of my hands and fingers… who knew?


I tried upgrading my internet to the higher speed but I don’t think it worked since I’m still trying to download updates… So much lame. I’m going to go to the office once I’m done writing to figure it out. I want me my games, yo….


Aside from work I’m not really sure what’s going to be going on today. I need to call my eye place and have them order a supply of contacts for me since I like using them at the gym. I guess that means I need to find a decent pair of sunglasses. The gym needs to happen at some point today. Laundry would be a good thing. You know… that whole, “having clean clothes,” thing…


Not a whole lot to get done though… I think I’m pretty ok with that. I want to have some chill time where I can game. I think I’ll get that today…. Internet gods willing….

Daily Post 120: A Mostly Normal Post


I rewrote my about section the other day. Not sure why I find that important now, but I do. I guess my brain is trying to play catch-up with life.


I’ve cooked breakfast, cup of coffee included. I wish I had a toaster oven. I might see if someone has an extra they can let me borrow for the few weeks I’ll still be here. It’s scary. In two weeks I’ll be leaving.


I have an appointment with a locksmith today to unlock my storage unit. Through all of the moving around I’ve done since being back in Orlando I managed to lose my storage unit keys. Much lame. I already bought a new lock. I did that while I was reserving the UBox for my stuff. That’s on the 8th… Again, so close… so many mixed emotions.


Because the end is coming so soon I’ve been trying to find closure with some of the people in my life. I’ve reached out to Jarrett twice to see if I could say goodbye to him in person. He hasn’t responded to my messages so I’m guessing that’s not going to happen. I did what I could so I have not regrets or residual feelings. It would have been nice to wish him well in life and to not have animosity between us for the break up. He’s another ex who owes me roughly $1000.


I tried to reach out to Chad as well. I don’t think I ever wrote about him. He was prominent in my life while I was dating Corey. In the timeline of my dating life that was before Warren #2 (the second time), before Jarrett, before Sir, before Zane. Chad and I never dated, but there was undeniable chemistry between us which we both felt. Which I ignored. It’s one of the things I wonder on sometimes. What would have happened if we had dated? There was / is a lot between us and I wanted to reach out to him and let him know even though we haven’t talked in years that he was an important person in my life. I wanted to say goodbye to him in person. I haven’t heard back from him though, so I guess that’s not going to happen either.


Again, I tried everything I could to facilitate a meeting. If it doesn’t happen then it doesn’t happen. I can only do my best.


I saw Zane yesterday. That led to mixed emotions. He had a few thing I needed to pick up from the apartment; a blanket my mom had bought me while I was a freshmen in high school, Scarlet’s flea comb, and a tablet pen and well that I need to return to the school during my exit interview on Friday.


I had stopped by after going to the gym yesterday. He wasn’t home and I was ok with that. I had forgotten to stop by the bank, though. We went over our data usage again because of me listening to Spotify, which I don’t regret or feel bad for. If we go over I pay the overage fee. So I needed to leave money at the apartment for the payment and had forgotten to go to the bank first. It wasn’t on my to-do list.


By the time I got back to the apartment Zane was walking in with the groceries he had gotten. I know he saw me pull up. It was frustrating and I feel disrespectful how he kept walking away from me. Looking back on it, he most likely didn’t know I had already been to the apartment and gotten my things. He most likely thought that I still had to come inside. But I didn’t. I wanted to hand him the money and leave and instead I had to “chase” him into the apartment to give it to him.


He was extremely nice and friendly to me and the whole time all I could think of was how he yelled and cursed at me on the phone last Saturday. How he had Sara over while I was in Vegas and lied to me about it. How he admitted to taking advantage of my need for human contact. How he had wanted to “be my friend.”


I couldn’t be nice back, so instead I was quiet.


When he wished me a good day I turned and left, not saying anything in return. I didn’t wish him a good day. I wish him nothing. I’m still too angry and hurt. I don’t wish anything negative anymore but I guess I’m still too low to wish him a happy life because I don’t feel like someone who can be that inconsiderate, that selfish, deserves happiness. I feel like he should feel the pain he put me through, that he put Nic through, that he’s most likely going to put Sara through. I want him to understand what it feels like. And maybe that’s selfishness on my part.


I don’t know. That’s where I am with that right now. There shouldn’t be another reason for me to see him again aside from signing paperwork. I’m giving him until Friday to switch his phone over to his own account. If not then I’m going to send a reminder about it, explaining the only options I have available are to disconnect the line which would terminate his service.




Seeing him led to all sorts of mixed up feelings. I came back to the extended stay and cried a little. I wrote, which helped. Afterwards I went to Sir’s place and watched Batman Bad Blood and last week’s Game of Thrones episode. I was pretty ok with everything that happened. I love the Hound.


I don’t think a whole lot is going to happen today. I have the storage unit to take care of. Currently waiting on the guy to call me, but that shouldn’t be until around 10ish. I have work at 1pm. At some point I want to go to the gym. I need to run to the grocery store for a few things, but nothing overly major.


I think I’m going to set my computer up and get a controller so I can play Witcher III. I think that will give me something to occupy my time with. Something I actually want to be doing. I’ve kicked the idea of cross stitching around, but I don’t have it in my at the moment.


Today is the first official day of summer. It doesn’t feel different in Florida. There isn’t an energy shift. It’s been “summer” for months.


Oh. Something else that happened. I got contacts. I’m not going to wear them constantly. Only when I’m at the gym or doing crazy taekwondo / aikido stuff. I figured it would be beneficial to my glasses to not put them in harms way.


So I guess this is a public service announcement… foreign objects on your eyeballs feel weird. >.<


That’s about it though. Going to go finish my coffee and shower so I can get the day started. Looking forward to killing me some ghouls and bandits.

Musing Moment 096: Today My Grief Is…


I’m sitting outside of my extended stay. There’s a pretty busy road that runs in front of it. It’s windy outside because the sky keeps threatening to rain. It did earlier, while I was trying to put air in my tires. A task that has been on my to-do list for some time now, which sadly is still undone. Not due to the rain… but because the machine was out of order at the gas stationed I stopped at.


Today my grief feels like waiting. Today my grief feels like holding my breath and counting down the days until I have to say goodbye.


I don’t like waiting. And I don’t like goodbyes, so currently it feels like there is sandpaper underneath my skin, rubbing, scratching, scrapping, and I don’t know how to get it to stop. I don’t know what will alleviate this sensation. What will heal it. Ease it. Make it go away and leave me in peace.


The question of, “Is this an insecurity?” answered with a “yes,” doesn’t do much to help me. I don’t like thinking of myself as insecure. I don’t like thinking of myself as weak.


I’ve been told to think of it as, “I’ll see you next time.” But what if there isn’t a next time? What do I do then?


Not everyone is meant to stay for forever. Some people are temporary, walking with us for a time, and then leaving to continue on their on path. I know that about life. I accept it as a fact. So why, then? Why does it still hurt to think of some of these people not being in my life any longer? If I accept something as truth, how is it I still resist it?


Today my grief feels like sadness.


Today my grief isn’t about mom. Today my grief is about the future and where I’m going to end up and what I’ll have to do to get there. Today is another day where I question if what I am doing is right.


I know it is. I know once I am in Vegas and with family and going to the dojang, once I am doing the things that I feel will fulfill me, I know I’ll be ok. I’m not good at transitioning. I worry when I do. I fret.


Maybe today is a bit about mom because normally when I feel this way I call her. I would ask for her advice. I would spew all of the things I feel into the air, letting them go, knowing that someone was hearing my fears and that I was understood.


I haven’t found a replacement for that. No one can replace mom.


The gym helped a little. Maybe that’s why it was easier to cry earlier. And I feel better for having cried. For having let the emotions out, but where do I go from here? Where am I in the landscape of my mind? Physically I am sitting on a sidewalk in the shade watching the cars drive by. I’m watching people continue on with their lives as if none of my confliction matters. And in the vastness of the universe I suppose it doesn’t. Things will continue on as they are. People will live. People will die. Trees will grow. Planets will turn. Stars will shine. Rain will fall.


My sadness, my fear, isn’t going to stop any of that from happening. The only thing it will do is take away from my peace of mind. It will take away from my present and what I could be experiencing right now.


I want to feel fulfilled and yet I don’t know how to do that yet. What will make me happy? I don’t know. And my knee jerk reaction to that question is nothing. My life is barren. My life is pointless. All life is pointless without mom.


My grief is loneliness.


My grief is wondering when I will wake up and feel whole and like myself again. It’s realizing that I’ll most likely never be back there ever again. I’ll never be able to go back to who I was, how I felt, before mom died. This is the new me. This is matriarch me. This realness that I feel within myself… This is something that isn’t going to go away. I don’t know what to do with it yet. I don’t know how it fits into my identity, and with everything else I’m still having to figure out I guess it’s no wonder that I don’t know where it goes.


Who am I?


My grief is questioning.


I don’t know who I am. I know my name. The name I was given. What does that name mean, though? What does that name represent? What type of picture would be drawn of me through my characteristics and personality traits?


That’s fractured for me at the moment. With the ending of a relationship, an intimate connection, I am filled with hateful veil words that I have to work through. Am I those things? I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think of myself as a negative person. But I question myself. I question if they’re right. I know their words are most likely just hatefulness meant to hurt me. But it’s working. I’m letting it work. I’m letting myself entertain the idea that maybe they’re right. Maybe their words are truth.


I don’t want them to be truth. I don’t want their words to be part of my portrait. So If I don’t want that then why am I letting it happen? All I have to say is, “This isn’t me,” and be done with it. Let the words go. Let them run off of me like so much water.


But I’m not and that’s why they hurt. I’m holding on to them. I think on them, my mind cycling on them, over and over. I cut my ego with these knives, these words, when really I should let them go. I should put them down and move on.


I wonder if it’s a process, this letting go. I am done with the relationship. Truly I have made peace with that aspect of my situation. But the words… does it take longer to heal from those? I suppose the first step is to remove the offending object from the wound. It’s hard to heal when you keep stabbing yourself, right? So if I make peace with these comments, if I stop stabbing myself with them, then I can start to heal? Maybe?


My hair, a small piece of it keeps blowing against my face with the wind. It reminds me of how I shaved my head. How that was symbolic for me. Returning to my roots. Returning to me. So much has grown in the past year and half. So much has happened during that time.


I am still me. I don’t think we ever become different people. Yes, we do change. Our priorities shift. Our morals may fluctuate. What we cherish and deem as important… We’re dynamic, but, in the end, we are always the same soul.


I don’t want my soul to turn to one of apathy. Anger. Regret. Hate.


I want to love and be compassionate and I want to remain as I was at my core. I want to remain a beautiful soul, and I guess part of that is accepting that there is a beauty to sadness. Sadness is not in itself a bad thing. It is part of the balance. It’s how we appreciate and understand when we’re happy. The contrast between the two… It allows us to understand others. Empathize, connect, bond. It allows us to grow. It allows us the solitude to think and figure things out. It’s the stillness, the quiet. The loneliness.


I need to keep being kind to myself. It’s still less than three months. My official year of mourning hasn’t started yet. Not until I’m in Vegas, still a month off into the future. I’ve made a lot of progress and I feel I have done relatively well given my situation, but the true healing… that I have been waiting to start. In my head it hasn’t started happening yet, and maybe that is improper of me. Maybe that is discounting everything I have achieved so far. I can still start my year officially once I have moved and still accept that I have begun healing and moving forward.


I guess that’s something else to keep in mind. This chapter of my life isn’t over. I can’t move to the next one without closure and closure hasn’t happened yet. But that doesn’t mean that some parts of the story can’t overlap. I am still in Orlando, but I have still had experiences here. Experiences that have helped build me up and realize things about myself. Things that have healed new and old wounds alike.


Today my grief is waiting, but sitting outside and having written, my fingers moving over the keyboard as my eyes watch the cars going and going, I’m aware of how it is a nice day, and that I should be enjoying it. I have dinner to look forward to. I have a hello in my near future to combat the sadness. I have people who are warm and loving and caring and who accept me even when I am sad.


I have love in my life. Love and support I am grateful for. And that makes today worth it. That makes being awake and showered and dressed wroth it. Knowing that I have people who love me unconditionally.


That fills me with a feeling of acceptance and calmness. Maybe not happiness, but a realness. I am loved. This is a fact. I accept this as a truth about me.


I am Jennifer Conley and I am loved.

Daily Post 119: A Truce for Now


Today has started. I don’t really know what I’m feeling. Not productive. Not energetic. I’m awake and I feel like that should count towards something.


After writing last night I slept roughly 12 hours. I woke up a handful of times but wasn’t conscious for very long. It was night. It was dark. There was no reason to be awake even though I had gone to sleep so early. I allowed myself to slip back into sleep. I didn’t give myself crap for sleeping. I embraced it, willed it, and enjoyed the thought of not worrying about anything. Whatever there was could wait. Would wait. This was what I wanted to do.


And now I’m awake. Not really early, but before noon. Extra points for that one maybe?


There’s not much to do today and so I’m left sort of trying to figure out what I want to do with myself.


I’ve done the dishes already. The plastic-ware really. Since I’m in the extended stay I got plastic containers to keep food in along with plastic silverware. I enjoy doing dishes by hand, so I’m not put off by not having a dishwasher. It’s been a little hard to care over the past week, though. The plastic-ware sat in the sink since I don’t remember when. Most likely about a week.


Each time I passed by the sink I would think I should clean them. And I wouldn’t. Why should I? There was this layer of apathy over everything. The clothes haven’t been put away yet. An empty water bottle has sat on my nightstand for days.


I don’t think anything has really changed inside of the landscape of my mind. I am still batting around the thought of, “It is not my place to feel ashamed.”


I feel like a cat and the thought is a little plastic ball with a bell inside. The thought keeps my attention as I pass it back and forth between my paws, my attention laser focused but not really sure what to do.


I got out of bed. I did what I needed to do in Dragonvale, a game I started a month or so before mom’s hospitalization. I’ve kept playing it, maybe not as hardcore as I did in the beginning, but it’s been something my brain can poke at. A distraction at times. So yeah, I cleared out all of my coins, grew new food, and hatched all of my eggs. I got another Jet dragon. It would be nice to get a fourth so I have even numbers still. Three is just so weird. All odd numbers are weird… except five. Five is ok in my book.


I charged my laptop since it had died during the night. I washed the dishes so I could have a clean cup for my coffee. I’m currently sipping at it as I type. At the moment I am boiling eggs so I can make tuna.


I’m happy with what I’ve been able to do so far today, but it’s still before noon and I know I really aught to do more with my time. With myself.


I guess this is as good a place as any to figure it out. I feel low energy today. So what are low energy things I can do?


I want to do yoga at the gym today. I want to do one of the routines that I don’t currently have on my phone so I’ll need to transfer it. I want to do a morning routine, a wake up routine. Something soft and gentle. I think I would like to go running after that. Last time I ran I shaved a minute off my run time. It’s the first time that I’ve “improved” since before mom died. I’ve been so sporadic with going to the gym and what I actually do while I’m there that I was surprised I had only slipped back to my 20 minute pace. The best I’ve ever done was 14 minutes I think. Maybe only 15, but still, the point is I know I can do better. I have done better.


There’s a part of me that wants to disregard my 19 minute pace. But I’m not going to. Yeah. I have done better in the past. But you know what, I’m not in the past. I’m here, and here I was doing 20 minute miles and last time I did a 19. I’m not going to turn a blind eye to improvement, even if it is small. We all start somewhere and sometimes we have to start over. It was the first “good” run I felt like I’ve done since mom died. It was good to feel sore and like I pushed myself. It was good to see that effort reflected in my time.


So yeah… some gentle yoga to warm up, then a run. Maybe I’ll sit in the sauna as a reward before showering and getting lunch at my sports bar. I want to put the clothes away finally. I need to call the bank I had my old car loan through. I need the address to send the promissory note.


I also told Sir and Em I would come over tonight / today. Maybe that could be around dinner time. Maybe I could con them into watching last weeks Game of Thrones episode since I still haven’t seen it. It will be nice to cuddle with Scarlet since I haven’t spent much time with her. I miss my cat cuddles.


I feel like I’m sitting today. Not standing, not running, not fighting, not falling to the ground, bloodied and beaten.


I feel clean, washed and bandaged. I feel tired, but not heavy. More of a soul weary type of tired. I feel as if I’m under a tree, the sun filtering down through the leaves, warm against my skin. I feel like I’m recovering, observing. I don’t want to move much. I don’t want to do much. I want to sit and enjoy what I can from where I’m at. I’m content to not be out in the field running, playing. I’m content to sit quietly on my own and ponder over things. I’m content with getting lost in my head as I gaze out over the things around me and being left relatively alone, undisturbed. No obligations. No requirements. Just peace.


I don’t know. Maybe that’s where I’m at. Content. Though, even as I type that I know the  word doesn’t feel right inside of my head. There’s a happiness to that word which I don’t feel. Maybe accord is better. A truce inside of my head. There’s no war. No fighting. There’s stillness.


I’m sure the confliction will return. I know there are still hard days in my future. But today… today it is sunny outside. Today is another day of summer. Today I might not do much, but I will do and right now that’s enough for me. I will enjoy my day of accord and continue to take things one day at a time.

Musing Moment 095: My Place


I spend a lot of time on Facebook. I spend a lot of time in bed, resting, which usually leads to sleeping.


I spend a lot of time thinking that I should be doing something meaningful with my life. I spend a lot of time not having the energy to do much of anything by the time I get home, like today…


I went to work. I’m giving myself points for that because I really didn’t want to. Next week is my last week. Friday I have my exit interview. I’m sad when I think about it. I’m sad thinking that I’m going to be leaving everyone soon. I’m sad that it feels like goodbye.


I spent most of the lab scrolling through Facebook. I did everything I needed to do beforehand. I emailed Jason to update him on life and to solidify dates with him. I replied to all of the emails I had. I did all of these “things” and then I had nothing else to occupy my time with. At least nothing that I really wanted to do. So instead I scrolled through Facefail, saving images with inspiration quotes on them until the day was over and I was allowed to leave.


I had no intention of going to the gym today, which ended up working in my favor because there was a torrential down pour going on as I was leaving work. I just wanted to come back “home” to my extended stay and not be outside or around people.


So that’s where I am. At home, in comfy clothes, not sure what to do about food, and in general sort of sad and introspective.


There is a realness to everything now. I have a UBox reserved for the 8th. That’s when I’ll be packing my things to have them shipped to Vegas. I have the going away event, laser tag awesomeness, set up for the 9th. On the 11th, Monday, the start of the week, I check out of my extended stay and begin my trip westward.


There are so many things I’m looking forward to. Attending the dojang. Having a full-sized kitchen to myself. Using my pots and knives and in general being able to cook again. Turning the garage into my own personal workout area. Starting a herb garden. Potentially looking into reiki. Maybe becoming a certified nursing assistant. Having dinners with Lio and Jason.


I want all of those things. The thought of them makes me happy.


I have to leave Orlando to do those things. The thought of leaving hurts. I don’t want to hurt.


It sucks. It’s confusing. I don’t want to process but I know I need to. And so that’s where I’m at.


I saw V again last night. There was one point where we were talking and I started to cry. And by cry I mean I had tears running down my cheeks. I wasn’t sobbing, but I was remembering painful memories and because of that there were tears that I couldn’t stop.


V saw them and asked what was wrong.


“Emotions,” was the only word I could say. He reached out and wiped away one of the tears with his thumb. I tried pulling away and saying sorry. I didn’t want to mess up the night with emo stuff. I didn’t want to feel disappointment or rejection. I didn’t want to feel vulnerable because being vulnerable always seems to mean I’m going to end up hurt.


He kept his hand on my face even though I tried to pull away. I wanted to hide. I wanted to not hurt. He told me to look at him, and after an internal struggle of fearing what I would see, I did look up at him.


“It is not your place to be ashamed. Don’t ever feel ashamed for what you feel. It is your place to be the confident woman you are.”


I keep thinking of that phrase.


It’s not my place to feel ashamed.


It makes me think of all of my past relationships. The ones I knew I should have left. The ones that made me question and doubt myself. The ones that made me feel unworthy. The ones where I was gross. Mentally unstable. Fucked up. A whore. A cheater. Cumrag…


I think of all of these emotionally horrific experiences where the person who claimed to love me degraded me and made me feel less than. Made me feel ashamed of myself because being me was the absolute worst, most awful thing I could have done.


It’s not my place to feel ashamed.


Then why I was in so many places that made me feel that way? I instinctually want to pull away from this kindness because it is so hard to trust it now. I trusted all of my previous partners. I don’t feel like a confident woman. And maybe that’s because right now I’m still figuring out how to stand on my own. It’s not just mom’s death. It’s the betrayal of Zane. It’s the ending of my job. It’s the loss of my sphere in Orlando.


I feel hurt. I feel lost sometimes. I feel like this is another transitional period and things are shifting and I’m losing touch with solid ground. It’s scary and I just want to know that what I’m doing is right.


And yet, feeling V’s hands hold my cheeks while we looked at each other, his thumbs rubbing the tears away… I felt no negativity from him. It was ok to feel everything I was feeling. It was ok to have tears because tears didn’t make me a bad person or less than. It didn’t feel like lip service even though the things he said where everything I’ve wanted to hear. It felt like he meant those words. It felt like he cared.


It’s not my place means that I shouldn’t be there. I shouldn’t be in places that make me feel unworthy, that make me feel less than. I’m not less than. I deserve respect. I deserve to feel wanted and loved and cared for. Not ashamed and like a beaten animal. I shouldn’t feel the need to cower away from someone when I cry. I shouldn’t feel sorry for feeling because feeling isn’t a bad thing. I’m allowed to feel. There is no shame in feeling, in expressing, in being human.


I wish I could say I was confident. But right now I’m not. Right now I feel the need to cry and purge the hurt of all of those memories. It’s not my place, but I felt all of those emotions. I felt shame and regret and guilt because so many people have told me that I should feel those things.


I don’t know what this is. Healing maybe? It’s confusing. It hurts. I need to let go of it, of them. These dark pieces of shattered memory. These shards that keep cutting me, causing my confidence to bleed out of me through the slashes. Like so many other aspects of myself, I need to look at these situations and evaluate them.


Do I accept these things
as truths about me?


Am I gross because I sweat when I bike 7 miles to work everyday?


Am I mentally unstable for being interested in BDSM?


Am I fucked up for preferring an atypical relationship dynamic?


Am I a whore, a cheater, for being involved with another person once a relationship is over?


No. My answer is no to all of those questions and so many more. No. I’m not gross. No. I’m not unstable. No. I’m not fucked up. No. I’m not a cheater or a whore.


I don’t want to feel shame for being who I am. I don’t want to give dishonorable people the power to make me feel shame. My place is not in my past. My place is not to feel ashamed anymore. It never was my place to feel ashamed about who I was.


My place is here. In the present. My place is figuring myself out, finding myself and my truths. My place is to be me. My place is to know myself. And knowing myself, believing in myself, is how I will return to being confident.


My place is not in my past. My place is here in my present.