Daily Post 058: Better Then They Have Been

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Written earlier this morning.


 

I’m physically tired right now. It’s taken me about an hour to recover from my training session with L. We worked inner thighs pretty hardcore today since I told her that’s where I feel weak. Tuesday was shoulders and back and I can still feel the tiredness there as well.

I suppose a lot of my tiredness comes from being so active this week after such a hard lull the previous week.

Thanksgiving was pretty good for a shitty day. All of the days leading up to it sucked. I watched Fate/Zero in its entireity in two days. I didn’t feel back about taking over the living room for those two days. I’m hardly ever home. No regrets or remorse.

The show was alright but I didn’t really connect with any of the characters. I watched it more because I wanted to watch Fate/Stay Night which I’ve been told is good. Since I made it through all of Zero I started watching Stay Night Wednesday evening and continued throughout Thanksgiving day with my brother.

I have to admit that one of the reasons I’ve avoided watching these anime for so long is because Zane watched them before we dated. I can remember him having conversations with other people about the show and so I’ve always associated the Fate series with him. Sort of like how I associate Burn Notice with Corey. I don’t know if it’s really overcoming anything to finally watch the series, but it feels less like Zane’s and more like any of the other story lines in my head.

Jon actually took care of most of the cooking, which was a fantastic change from last year where I did all of it and then no one ate anything.

I actually woke up thinking about ditching and just staying home and being sad. I didn’t want to get out of bed. The thought of having to take a shower was borderline too much on top of having to drive the hour up to Daytona. I didn’t like the idea of having to stay with my roommates even less.

Instead, I made a compromise. I would stay in my pjs, get in the car, and make it to my brother’s place. That’s all I had to do. The only “requirement” of my day was driving. Everything else was icing on the cake that I didn’t “have” to do. My brother wouldn’t care if I was in pjs or not. He cared if I showed up. If showering compromised my energy levels for completing the trip then it was ok for it to not happen.

So that’s what I did. I got in my car and drove up to his apartment. There was a hot cup of coffee waiting for me and a hug and no judgment. Only acceptance, and understanding.

I helped a bit in the kitchen when he wanted/asked for it. I helped load the dishwasher a few times, too, so I wasn’t a total slacker and mooch. The turkey was brined which was the first time I had anything like that and it was amazing. Jon is now Lord of the Turkey and we have plans to do pretty much the same thing for Christmas since neither of us can get out to Vegas to spend it with our older brother.

Jon did have a friend come over for Thanksgiving. I guess he didn’t have anywhere else to go and Jon didn’t want him to be alone. It was super socially awkward and Jon even sent me text messages while we were all in the living room asking me not to kill him for inviting the guy over and saying he was sorry. He essentially begged for my forgiveness which I thought was cute.

I told him he owed me and he agreed. Jon said he had forgotten how “off” the guy had been the few times they had hung out. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t all that bad.

Towards the end of the evening, Jon’s roommates came back home and said that their family was going to show up to play board games. Roughly six people in total. That totally went against all of the plans they had agreed to previously with Jon, leaving the apartment empty so he and I could have a place for our own Thanksgiving. When we asked when their family was supposed to show up his roommates said they weren’t sure. Just that they would be there at some point.

I didn’t have a bra on… There was no way I was going to be ok with being in the middle of surviving my second Thanksgiving without mom and dealing with six strangers having a good time while not being “presentable”. Fuck that shit. Like, for real.

I ended up leaving before they showed up. In fact, I’m actually not sure if they ever did. Jon hasn’t mentioned it in any of our conversations. I was sent home with leftovers, a big bear hug, and the whispered words of “You’ll be ok” echoing in my ears as I cried the whole drive home. The leftovers are what got me through the next couple of days because I didn’t do any sort of cooking or prep work on my days off due to being sad.

I don’t remember which day I started feeling better. Maybe it was when I came back home Friday. I know that day at the clinic wasn’t bad even though I thought it would be. One of my coworkers called out sick so we were short a person. My boss came out and worked the floor on my side of the clinic, so that was pretty awesome. The times he’s worked on the floor he normally takes my spot to see how the changes they’re making to the schedule work. This was the first time we worked closely together and he was very complimentary at the end saying that I did what had to be done.

I was expecting that day to totally suck, but it ended up being one of the smoother ones I’ve worked. It was good to see all of my patients and to hear about their Thanksgivings and how they got to see their friends and family and eat good food and enjoy their day. It was nice to share that mine had turned out better than I expected and that I spent it with my brother who made a fantastic meal for us.

I guess going to work forced me to get up. It forced me to not sit at home in the dark where the only things to keep me from thinking about the pain are anima, alcohol, and cigarettes. It made me go out and see people who care about me and who are grateful that I’m alive and do the things I do. It made me go out and connect to things that feel worth it, so for that I am grateful. I may dislike my job, but I’m glad that I have one that gives me purpose.

Warren and I had a fairly friendly conversation. He’s paid full rent for this month. That’s the first time he’s paid fully two months in a row. I’m hoping that December continues with this positive change. This is the month where he should be able to start paying in advance rather than having me use my own money to cover for him and then him paying me back. It would be nice to not feel tension and tightness in my chest when I pay bills. It will be nice to feel secure in the fact that I know everything will be taken care of.

My main mission is still to survive until January. I feel more confident in my ability to do that, especially since it’s only two and a half weeks until my week off. I haven’t figured out anything that I want to really do that week. Maybe getting my hair bleached again since the roots have grown out so far. Maybe it would be good to talk to Big Bad and see if there’s anything he would like to do and if he still plans to take that week off with me or not.

I had thought of giving up personal training for the coming month and solely focusing on work and my certification. I have since decided against that. I want to keep training the little bit that I am, which leads to this week and why I’m so tired right now.

Sunday started with messaging Big Bad. It was light and playful until he asked me if I had had a cigarette since our last time together. I said yes, less than what I normally would have done, but more than none.

His reply message of “I’m disappointed in this behavior” was more soul-crushing that I expected it to be. I actually sat crying at my computer for a little while. I know a lot of people don’t like me smoking and I have always acknowledged and accepted that fact. I don’t like it either.

I decided, after my cry session, that I wouldn’t smoke anymore. I went outside and had my last one and while I smoked it I asked mom to help make it my last one. I wasn’t prepared for those emotions either because asking that made me feel like I was losing a part of her all over again.

Yeah… Sunday was a day full of emotions after a week of already heavy emotions. So tired of emotions right now…

I hadn’t realized I was using smoking as a way to feel close to her. At least I didn’t realize it as consciously as my awareness became during that last cigarette. I cried during it but stuck to my word and threw the rest of the pack away.

Once I was back inside I sat down and wrote an email to Big Bad explaining why I had been smoking these past months and how his message had hurt because I don’t want to let him down. He’s been so supportive and accepting throughout this past year that the thought of letting him down feels like a betrayal in a way.

I haven’t had a cigarette since Sunday. I know that’s not a lot to go on, but I’m content with it so far. The first month is going to be the hardest, especially towards the center of it. So really, this coming week and the week after are the ones I want to really get through.

Big Bad responded to my email saying he was proud of me and that I can do anything. I felt better even though I was emotionally tapped out. I felt more solid and stable. It felt like I had finally made a stand about the whole smoking thing and confronted some heavy things I had been avoiding.

Jon came down and we had lunch together while studying for his Anatomy test. We started with the section for the brain, which was amazing, and then moved into the spine. I think we were both in need of some more time together. We agreed to start playing new characters in World of Warcraft. Horde side this time so I have more drive to actually play. Since Monday was a day off for me we spent most of Sunday night leveling our characters.

While I waited for him to drive home I cleaned my room and the apartment. I ended up doing four loads of laundry to wash all of my blankets and sheets as well as my clothes. Kyle cooked a chicken alfredo dinner and let me have some. It was a pretty low key night after what ended up being a pretty intense day.

Monday went well. It started with canceled breakfast plans. I had made plans with Mrs. G, a former classmate from DaVita’s training program, to meet since we haven’t seen each other in almost six months, if not longer, but she’s been having headaches and asked if we could raincheck out meeting. Though I really do want to see her, I was ok with the cancellation.

It meant that I was able to go to boxing instead, which I think I needed. I didn’t do as well as I’ve done in the past. I was also late because I stopped to pick up my new glasses first. I didn’t let that stop me from going, though. I still went in while everyone was warming up. I put on my shin guards and gloves even though I knew there wouldn’t be any kicking. It’s part of my ritual, just like taking off my necklace and ring. I always do these actions and I will not compromise them just to get onto the mat fast enough to make someone else happy.

I pushed myself pretty hard. I can tell there’s a difference in my core strength. I can feel how my punches, especially my hooks, are stronger, harder. It’s a good feeling. I stayed for all of the core section of the workout, which I sometimes skip out on. For not having done any sort of workout for a while I was happy with my effort. It was a total body sweat. I got to talk to the instructor who was one of my favorites. In January he’s going to begin working with me on footwork and how to move around in the ring with an opponent. I’m looking forward to it.

I took a nap when I got home. I did some cooking. A lot of things were already taken care of due to my burst of motivation Sunday. I ended up going out and finding a new nightshirt to wear at Salvation Army and having a sandwich for dinner at Arby’s.

I spent the evening with Big Bad. We watched a few episodes of Stranger Things. He said he tried watching some of it without me but it wasn’t the same. That gave me warm fuzzy feelings. I got to wear my new top while we cuddled on the couch. It was another quiet, relaxing night after a fairly productive day.

Tuesday was a busy day. I knew it would be and I knew I would be tired before it even began. With how productive I had been Sunday and Monday I knew Tuesday was going to be rough, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I wasn’t going to back out of any of my obligations so instead, I tackled everything head on.

I trained for the second day in a row which is a first for a very long time. That’s where L tore up my shoulders. We did some box jumping as well. Only the red box, but that’s what I wanted. I told her I would rather warm back up into things successfully rather than trying to push too far too fast and compromise my confidence. I’m ok with being on the low side this week.

After training, I donated plasma. I wasn’t as hydrated as I wanted to be, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one donation where I almost passed out twice. After donating I had a doctors appointment. I had been instructed to fast for the blood work I needed to get done for my bio screening, which is supposed to save me something like $800 on my healthcare premium. So even though I trained and donated, I hadn’t eaten for eight hours. I was edging towards a bitchy mood and I could tell.

I made it to the appointment on time. Didn’t have to pay anything since it counts as my yearly physical. Had to get a tetanus booster shot, and then drive over to the place where they actually do the blood work to have that done. So I got stabbed three times on Tuesday. All while not eating anything. So hangry.

I’m grateful I was able to get the blood work done and out of the way, though. Since I went to the clinic so late there wasn’t a wait time. I was seen pretty much immediately and was assured my results would be in by Thursday, which was perfect. Thursday was my next day off, so my doctor said to come by the office during the afternoon to let her complete the form I needed to be filled out. So I was able to get most of my healthcare stuff taken care of. The only things left were to have the paper filled out and to submit it via the online portal, both supposedly easy things to accomplish on my next day off.

Tuesday was also Nicole’s birthday. We were chatting throughout the day and eventually made plans to meet at a Cracker Barrel for dinner. It was roughly 40 minutes away, but since she drives up to see me all the time I felt like even with how tired I was it was the least I could do to drive halfway to see her on her birthday.

Well… that ended up taking an extra 30 minutes to do because of rush hour traffic and car wrecks. I was super bitchy by the time I sat down, but luckily Nicole let me bitch while we ate our fill of biscuits with apple butter. I even got to order my Country Boy, “there’s no way you could possibly finish all of this food” breakfast. And yes. I did actually eat all of that food. Fuck anyone who thinks poorly of me for doing it. You try strength training, donating, doctor appointments, and driving through Orlando hell on no food for almost 10 hours and see if you don’t devour everything, too.

I will say it was amazing to finally get home. I slept deeply that night, though it wasn’t enough before I had to wake up for work on Wednesday.

Yesterday was rough. I was on my normal side at the clinic but I was paired with the newest team member, who works extremely slow because he’s still new, along with the preceptor who trained me, who is extremely thorough, but also a slow worker. That ended up making things extremely rough. My preceptor went and complained to my boss about the new guys which I didn’t think was fair because she also could have done more than what she did throughout the day. I am actually glad that he came out onto the floor later in the evening because it meant that I got to talk to him and give him my opinion.

I said I didn’t think it was that the new guy is a bad worker. I said I felt like everyone at the clinic has their own strengths and weaknesses and that right now, two slow workers together was not a good idea. He needs to be around two strong workers until he gets his confidence and speed up.

My boss was grateful for my input and I think it helped give a more unbiased opinion about the situation since I also voiced my opinion on how my preceptor handled/didn’t handle the day.

I was pretty dead by the time I got home. It was roughly a 14 hour day and six miles. Maybe closer to 15 hours, but once you get to a certain point it really doesn’t matter. A long day is a long day regardless of how many hours it is.

I ate dinner and checked my mail in Warcraft since I’m back to whoring the auction house. I showered not long after that and went to bed. I slept for a little bit but woke up around midnight hungry and thirsty.

I logged onto Warcraft and chatted with my brother who also happened to be on. I stayed up until around 2 before going back to sleep.

Since then I’ve woken up, gone to training, and am about to go back to the doctor so she can finish filling out my paperwork. After that, it’s donating plasma. Then lunch with maybe some light studying. Then back home to chill for the rest of the evening. I do need to cook one last meal. Doing a load of laundry would be good. But overall my requirements for the day are mostly done.

Speaking of, I’m going to cut this short so I don’t miss my appointment. I’m glad I took the time to write. It was nice reflecting back on everything that’s happened. I’m also glad things feel better than they have been.

 

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Daily Post 057: Waiting

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I used to write for myself. I used to sit here and let my mind wander through itself, my fingers moving over the keyboard, typing out the melody in my head. The one that always seems so hard to put into words when talking with people. The one that not even I know the notes to half the time. It’s only after writing, after going back and really reading what I wrote than any sort of sense can be made from it. The logic, the pattern, emerging from the chaos of emotions. They, the emotions, exist for a reason, but without writing, that reason always seems elusive, nebulous, and half-formed.

I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been going to the gym or the dojo. I’ve been eeking by. And already I’m on the verge of tears, not so much because I’m depressed. I feel I’m actually recovering from the recent lull in my emotional state. But tears from acknowledging pain. From no longer forcing myself to keep limping forward. From finally sitting, resting, and assessing my wounds, the damage, the trail I’ve traveled and where I have yet to move to.

I know for a while I felt hopeless and pointless again. I felt my grief which so rarely is the crushing tidal wave it was in the beginning. I can see it coming, feel it welling up within myself. I can almost prepare for it. I know the days will be hard and the nights harder. I know waking up will be the most painful part of my day while the rest of it is idle survival of making sure I eat meals and shower and go to work and convince people that I’ll be ok even though I feel I’m bleeding out through a wound in my chest.

I’ve made it up to this point and even though I’ve been drinking and smoking, I feel it’s worth noting that I HAVE survived. I have coped. I have found ways of being self-reliant. I HAVE NOT collapsed or shrugged off my responsibilities. I have fought through most of this year and I have fought hard.

I had a realization last week and I think that’s the main reason I have been feeling slightly less lost.

I have decided that, for the moment, I will wait. I will rest, just like the Earth.

I will rest between now and January. I will make it through Thanksgiving, my second one without mom. I will make it through my birthday, a day I wish wouldn’t come. I’ll make it through Christmas and New Years.

I won’t worry about if I get to the dojo or not. If I’m able to train or how hard I train when I do. I won’t stress over my work schedule making things hard with how inconsistent it is. I won’t give myself shit for not doing much because it’s cold and cloudy and hard to find the will to do all of the things I love doing while it’s warm and sunny out.

It’s winter. It’s a period for rest. Instead of raging and struggling against it I decided at 4 am on a cold Monday morning while smoking a cigarette and drinking my coffee before work that I would try embracing that aspect of this season. I would stop struggling to do and allow myself to rest.

Making that decision let me feel free. It dissolved the feelings of failure for not making it to the gym after work to run when I had already walked eight miles in the clinic. It freed me of so many negative things that I felt tears forming in my eyes from relief.

It was finally ok to wait, to rest, to simply breathe rather than fighting against everything that seems so impossible to overcome.

Sometimes the best course of action is to wait. To allow your opponent to make the first move, opening themselves up so you can land a devastating blow.

In January I start a new path.

I begin the road to becoming an RN, something I never in my life thought I would be. My first class is already paid for. Everything is set, all I have to do is attend the class. The first day of a new direction.

I have a rough sketch of an outline for where I want to go. First, it will be my Associates of Nursing, followed by the Physical Therapist Assistant degree. From there I will transfer to UCF for their Bachelors of Nursing moving into the Masters. From there it will be the Doctorate of Physical Therapy. Along the way or maybe after all of the “official schooling” will be the fitness training program I found while researching into the degrees I wanted. I would like to become a yoga instructor with counseling credentials as well, though I haven’t looked very far into that aspect of my plan.

I want to be a holistic nurse. I want to be a nursing teacher. I want to show people there’s more to health than just the physical body. The mind and spirit are just as important.

I will not stay with DaVita. I have already come to the realization that though I love my patients and my coworkers, I do not love my job nor the company. After achieving my first degree, my RN, I will begin exploring other employment options, ideal in the vein of holistic nursing. For the next two-ish years, however, I think I can manage three days a week at my present location. If things line up the way I hope they do I might be able to go down to working part-time and doing school full time.

Warren and I have fought. I told him he was an ass as a roommate. I told him I could rely on him to be unreliable. That in 13 months he’s paid full rent three times and none of those times were consecutive. I told him I didn’t want to live with him anymore and if he didn’t leave willingly I would find whatever legal course of action I could to have him removed, even if that meant having both of us evicted.

All of that came from after finding out he ignored my messages for three days.

I suppose backstory is needed…

Last Friday rent was coming due. It was also my payday and there for a “bill” day. I go through and pay things in order of their importance. Since rent is most important, I paid it first, which meant I had no money left to pay any of the others bills since Warren hadn’t made his contribution towards rent yet.

I messaged him to let him know rent was taken care of, but without his help, I was unable to pay any other bills such as power, internet, or any of my personal expenses.

I received silence.

For three days.

Nothing.

Nothing about, “Yes, I’ll pay rent. Just give me a few days.” No, “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Nothing to let me know that I would be able to pay all of my other responsibilities. Just empty nothingness.

On Monday I sent a message asking for Warren to pay rent so I could put gas in my car. I was low and without some sort of payment, I wouldn’t have had enough gas to make it through the week.

No reply.

Monday afternoon, when I got out of work, I sent a message asking if he was receiving my texts.

Silence.

I went to Big Bad’s house. I spent the evening with him. One were I told him about the situation and how I was going to address it when I got home. It was a good evening and I feel my time with him is one of the reasons I’m remaining as ok as I am.

When I got home I still had no replies to my messages but there was a deposit to my bank account for partial rent. I was ok with that. I was able to pay the bills that were due. It was enough to stay afloat and buy groceries.

That evening, while I was meal prepping, Warren came into the kitchen. I asked if he had been receiving my messages. He did a “so-so” motion with his hand saying “Eh. The first message rubbed me the wrong way so I just didn’t reply.”

I don’t remember what I said, but he went on to explain to me something something something… I honestly can’t tell you anything about what he said because the only thing I heard was the tone of his voice.

I’m sure other people have experienced it. That “tone” where you’re talking to a four-year-old who’s being unreasonable and so you have to talk very slowly and punctuate every single word since it’s the fifth time you’ve had to explain yourself to them and you’re just so exasperated that they’re being difficult…

I am NOT a four year old and I do NOT deserve to be talked down to after covering $500 of someone else’s rent. I DO deserve an explanation as to when I can expect my payment and I WILL NOT stand for my messages to be ignored because another person wants to be childish.

Thus my bridge burning napalm response of, “Go fuck yourself. Get out.”

Warren: So that’s how it’s going to be.

Me: GET. OUT.

He left, going back upstairs to his room, leaving me alone and furious. So furious I couldn’t even think beyond wanting to bash the windows of his car in with my combat swords from SCA.

I started receiving text messages from him. Messages I honestly didn’t read. I stated my feelings of “You’re an ass,” “I can’t rely on you,” and “If you’re not going to help I need you to leave so I can find someone who can.”

He knows where we stand now. He knows I’m ok with burning everything to the ground, including our relationship, if he doesn’t get his shit together because I’m done dealing with the stress having him in my life causes me.

This is my final stand. He made his payment for this week. I am waiting for December since that is when he gets his additional raise for his recent promotion. Words don’t matter anymore. Only action.

If he won’t take action then I will and I don’t care who goes down in the process. I don’t have to win, but I REFUSE to lose.

Big Bad and I are… doing well? I hesitate to write about this because even in my chest, sitting alone, I feel scared and vulnerable. Like it’s a frail, soft thing which could be injured at the slightest harshness. Something which hasn’t had time to become strong and confident. Like a fledgling.

The subject of children has come up. Twice, actually. Both times he asked me if I ever thought about having kids.

I answered with I’ve never had a partner that was loyal or one that I would want to have children with. I mentioned financial stability and being potentially polycystic and infertile. I mentioned how I never saw myself having the house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids.

He seemed saddened by that. His response of “Awww” to my not having the picket fence seemed one of sorrow. Like he was sorry I felt that dream was out of my reach, or not meant for me.

I used to think about it, what my future would be like. I liked cooking dinner for my partners. I liked falling asleep next to them or watching shows with them. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t finished watching Burn Notice. I can’t bring myself to do it. There are things that I miss about living with a significant other. Things I figured I wouldn’t have in my life again.

There’s a part of me who is captivated by the idea of the 1950s housewife. I actually do want to do the laundry and dishes. I want to greet my love at the door with a kiss hello, or a sticky note attached to a nerf gun saying that the house is a war zone, loser has to take out the trash… you know, stupid, nerdy, romantic things. I want to have a kitchen table covered in puzzle pieces that we work on together, or at least talk to each other while I pick away at it.

There’s a part of me who wants it; the house with a white picket fence. That ideal life of perfection. There’s a part of me who wants kids and to pack their lunches and write love notes on their napkins. I want to help them with school projects and the science fair. I want to be there for their field trips. I want to help them grow their interests and find themselves. I want to be what my mom was to me for someone else.

I just never thought I would be able to experience it.

I mean… Big Bad has four daughters already. Why would he want more kids? And since I don’t want another partner, that means no kids for me by proxy, right?

I mentioned this to Kyle who’s response was, “He wants more kids. Why else would he ask you twice?”

My brain came up short on that one. Yeah, I thought it was odd that it seemed to come up often. But surely Big Bad didn’t want kids.

Kyle said to ask him.

So… I did…

We were texting each other good night and I asked if I could ask a personal question.

Big Bad said yes.

Me: Do you want more kids? I realized you’ve asked me that question but I never asked back.

Big Bad: Sometimes I do. They’re fun up to a certain age.

Since his oldest girls are teenagers I’m sure there is angst and tension at the moment.

Me: I think after a certain age they go back to being fun. It’s the middle years where they have to figure out themselves that sort of suck I think.

Of course, this is going solely on my own experience as a teenager and my relationship with my mom, so what do I know? But I do think things will ease over as his girls grow up and mature a bit.

Big Bad: Yeah. Maybe. Why? Are you ready to bear me the antichrist?

Me: I don’t know. I’ve never allowed myself to think of being a parent. I assumed you didn’t want more kids. I’m sorry for making assumptions rather than asking how you felt.

Big Bad: No need to apologize.

Me: Hypothetically, do you think I would be a good parent?

Big Bad: I think so. Certainly better than most.

Me: If I give birth to the antichrist for you I want 75% world domination for having to give up jiujitsu for 9 months. >.>

A girl has to have priorities…

Big Bad: Negative. I get 100% and you get to live in the post-apocalyptic future as my plaything.

Me: Do I get a slutty outfit?

Big Bad: Of course.

Me: And an army of penguins with lasers?

Big Bad: Several. Riding on sharks.

Me: … Then maybe…

So we haven’t agreed to have kids together or anything, but I do think our relationship has developed and deepened in ways I never thought it would. I don’t know how to explain the feeling, and I don’t know if it’s mutual or one-sided on my part because I haven’t voiced any of this to him.

It feels more committed. Nothing has changed, but in lew of the kid conversation, I feel like fidelity was reaffirmed on, and to, both sides. I feel like it’s another moment in time where we could have stood apart but instead, we stood together. We both admitted to things that we don’t share with others. We both allowed ourselves to be vulnerable. I’m not sure if we’re stronger for it, but I do think there is something positive about being vulnerable and realizing that it’s ok. You didn’t get hurt. In fact, you were safe the whole time. Not everyone is an asshole out to kick you while you’re down.

I spent Saturday evening and Sunday morning in Daytona with my younger brother. On the way back to Orlando I messaged Big Bad to let him know I made it back to town safely. I jokingly said I was about to pass his house.

Big Bad: Why don’t you stop by for a few. We’ll have coffee.

And so I spent nearly the entire day with Big Bad on Sunday. It was amazing. We started watching Stranger Things. Even though I just got done watching season two with Kyle I was completely content to curl up on the couch with Big Bad’s arms around me, the blanket covering us, and relax the day away.

It felt different than what it has been. For a little while, it had started to feel hollow. Even though we were together it didn’t feel like we were connected. It felt like it was just sex, which was still good, but I missed our times of wrestling, or working out, or cuddling, or our cups of coffee which seemed to have altered to me drinking by myself while he showered for work.

Recently, we had our date night to see Tho and all of our deep conversation and him saying he was proud of me. And then our Sunday afternoon of snuggles and shows. We still saw each other Monday evening which I am grateful for. Since I got out of work at 2 and he has taken this week off from work, I was able to go over to his house fairly early. We spent more time watching Stranger Things and talking.

I don’t know. It’s been feeling better and I do think the relationship is growing in ways that I didn’t expect it to. In ways, I hadn’t allowed myself to notice.

We both sleep well next to each other now. I remember in the beginning we didn’t. We were both worried about keeping the other awake by tossing and turning or snoring. But now, it’s different. I sleep deeper next to him. It’s like when I’m in my room alone I’m merely resting, while when I’m with him I actually sleep. I feel safe with him. Completely, physically and emotionally.

He said he knows he snores sometimes to which I replied yes, but that I liked it. It’s not loud or obnoxious. It’s just loud enough to be heard. Strong enough to be felt when my head is on his chest. I said it was reassuring. Comforting.

He said it seemed like I was having a bad dream last night and he woke me up. I don’t remember it. I remember feeling warm even though it’s winter and I normally always feel cold, no matter what I wear or how many blankets I have on my bed, or the fact that I live in Florida and most days still get into the 80s.

There’s a part of me, the soft, feminine part, that had given up on giggling, and being tickled, and goodbye kisses that make me smile. Of the warm fuzzy feelings that bubble up when you think of someone that spill into a silly uncontainable smile that makes you blush whenever someone points out that you’re smiling. Bastards. >.<;

And now, in the aftermath of basically two low key, relaxing days, I’m thinking that maybe it’s not all that impossible or crazy after all. Maybe all of this is ok and I should write off having a future with another person as “something not meant for me.”

I don’t think anything life changing will happen anytime soon. I want to become financially independent first. Or maybe stable would be a better word since I’m already independent and supporting two people, still. I’m sure being divorced and having four kids makes Big Bad hesitant to want to address the potential of living together or other batshit insane ideas like marriage.

Even just typing that on a blank page in a completely empty room makes my body tense with anxiety. So I know I definitely am not up to tackling those issues right now. I would much rather get out of the roommate situation I’m in first. I would like to make it through at least the RN associates. I want to feel like I am worthy as a partner and that I bring something to the table other than chaos because that’s what my life feels like right now. Chaos with brief moments of stability.

I think we’re both ok with not rushing things and I think maybe that’s why we’re as ok as we are. Regardless of what the future may or may not have in store for our relationship, I can say I am grateful he is in my life.

I like what we have. I feel he is honorable and I think I would actually be ok with eventually having his child.

There’s a lot on the horizon and not all of it in the distant future. Some of it is heavy and grief ladened. Some of it is good and potentially relieving. The main focus right now is breathing and surviving and resting.

For some reason it seems easier to that now; to survive. I’m looking forward to January. I’m actually kind of looking forward to the week of my birthday. Big Bad said he might take it off with me. I like the idea of us getting a pizza and watching stupid shows on my birthday. I like the idea of it not being special but of not being alone either.

I think there will be hard moments in the coming month but there will be good moments, too.

Daily Post 056: Meditation Needed

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Things have been ok. More ok than not.

My brother might be seeking therapy. He’s having a hard time and I can only do so much. I think it would be good for him to see a professional. Since he doesn’t have health insurance he’s having a hard time finding someone who doesn’t charge $120 an hour. Seriously… My brain can’t even…

I asked my therapist if she had any resources for the Daytona area. She mentioned a few and also offered to work with my brother if I was ok with it.

I am. I think she may be able to help Jon work through his self-worth issues and the feelings of abandonment and rejection he’s struggling with. I think there’s a lot of stuff still buried from mom’s death and his time in the Army. Maybe even from his divorce.

I need to send him my therapist’s contact information, but we’ve already talked on the phone and he knows that he has options now. I think that along helps him feel less lost.

Big Bad and I didn’t end up seeing each other. That sucked and is part of why I’m mostly flatlined today.

We were supposed to see each other Wednesday evening. He was feeling under the weather and I was exhausted from work. We decided to rain check the evening for Thursday instead.

I went to training Thursday. I stopped by the Salvation Army before going home to donate some odds and ends. I also found a swimsuit I liked so I can make use of the jacuzzi at the gym. I donated plasma later in the afternoon. I went to my sports bar afterward to eat and study for my certification. I went to the dojo that evening.

I didn’t do very well. And I guess I need to rephrase that. I did fantastic for already having trained once that day and donating plasma on top of all the other things I got done. I was fatigued before I even stepped on the mat.

We did a lot of cardio for the warm-up with rolls and cartwheels. I was paired with a newer guy I’ve never met who was also about half my size. It made performing the techniques hard. I didn’t want to be paired with someone I didn’t know. I really didn’t want to be learning a new technique. I would have preferred focusing on something I was already comfortable with.

Towards the end, I was paired with a purple belt. I explained why I was so tired. He said that was fine. We could spar for as long as I felt ok, but as soon I started feeling bad to let him know.

We did a few sort rounds alternating from starting in back mount. He was complimentary when I wormed my way out of his holds and answered my questions when I wasn’t sure about something.

I left before the class was over. I didn’t care if it looked bad to others. I haven’t been there much. I didn’t do much during the class. I didn’t stay for all of the sparring rounds.

Irrational Right Brain: Fuck you, Imaginary Judgemental Person. You have no idea what I have or have not done. You have no idea what my days are like or what I’m going through.

I messaged Big Bad once I was in my car. We had joked around earlier in the evening about playing video games but nothing had been definitively said about me coming over.

When I asked if he wanted company he said he was going to sleep soon and that maybe it would be better to hold off until Monday to see each other.

I’m proud that it didn’t feel like rejection or abandonment on my end. I do think that shows personal growth. My past hurts and insecurities have less sway and influence over my present emotions.

It still wasn’t a good feeling. I had been looking forward to seeing my companion more than once in a seven day period. I was looking forward to being cuddled with him and breathing in his scent. I was looking forward to not being alone.

It didn’t work out that way, though.

He sent a text message saying he missed me. I texted back saying I missed him, too.

Since I ended up with time to myself I went to the gym, put on my new swimsuit and alternated between the pool and jacuzzi. Cold helps with inflammation while heat helps promote blood flow and healing. I went back and forth a few times until I was ready to go home. My body felt better. I know I’ve been pushing it hard this week, especially since I did basically nothing last week. Compared to how I trained before I got this job I feel like I’ve been pretty inconsistent.

It’s weird. I know I’m at a higher level than what I was, but I also know I’m not where I want to be. I guess it’s like how I feel about my writing right now. I’m inconsistent. I let things get in the way. I’m tired of that.

I’ve been sort of sad since last night. Since not being able to fall asleep in Big Bad’s arms. It’s not the same type of sadness as when I hurt over mom. I haven’t thought too much about these feelings to understand them fully. I know what I feel is not rejection or abandonment, which is good. But there is something there that I need to figure out.

I had thought about not doing anything today. I thought about letting that sadness fuel a rest day. Stay home. Chillax. Be anti-social.

Irrational Right Brain: You’re not wallowing. You’re just indulging in not doing anything… Shhh… It’s ok…. Come to the dark side… we have cookies…

Instead, I ended up going to the gym for a HIIT class my trainer was running. Yes, my body was still sore. Fuck it. At least I could spend the rest of the day knowing I didn’t let sadness win.

Only one other person showed up to the class. It was nice to not have to deal with eight or more other people. It was just one other new person and she was pretty cool.

She said she had seen me on Tuesday doing my box jumps and that she was super impressed. I got to talk about how I’m training to be a fighter.

The class itself was pretty intense and I’m glad I went. Afterward, I came home and curled up on the couch for a while. Eventually, I was recovered enough to go upstairs and shower. I put away the clean clothes that were still in my laundry basket before filling it with all my dirty stuff and taking it downstairs.

I started a load of laundry and ran the dishwasher before heading out to my sports bar again. I’ve made it through another chapter in my certification book. I’m trying to make that a requirement on my “off” days. I need to get this certification out of the way, preferably before January so I can focus on school.

I paid rent. I had enough to cover all of it, but that only leaves me with $150 to my name with an electric bill, internect bill, car insurance payment, and phone bill to pay. I messaged Warren asking for his payment so I could pay all of my obligations. I haven’t gotten a reply from him yet. We actually haven’t spoken to each other since Kyle moved in. As long as he pays what he owes I don’t care. My opinion is still that he’s a man child and that our friendship will never be able to recover to what it once was.

My reward for studying and paying as many of the bills as I could was going through my email and catching up on the blogs I’m behind on. I’m also allowing myself the time to write.

There’s a randori session later today at the dojo. I know Jim will be there since he’s running it. I don’t know if I should go or not. I don’t feel like pushing myself. I think Jim would train with me if I asked him to. I haven’t made up my mind. If I don’t go I feel like it would be because I’m sad from not seeing Big Bad.

This is one of the few times I can make it to the dojo and yet I’m not going?

Maybe I do need to sit and meditate on a few things instead. Maybe doing a bit of emotional work would be better in the long run. My shoulder was giving me issues this morning, too. It was more of a sharp pain rather than a muscle pain. I had to modify a lot of the push-up work because it hurt to put weight on my left shoulder.

Blarg. I’ll figure it out.

For right now I’m going to go. I need to run to the store for laundry detergent, also a bottle of Fireball. At the moment drinking a little at the end of my nights is how I’m staying away from cigarettes.

I work tomorrow. Here’s hoping it goes smoothly.

Daily Post 055: No Title

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I’m not going to bother going back and looking at my last post. I don’t remember when it was. I don’t remember what was going on in my life at the time. I’m also not going to name this post because I know it’s going to be all over the place.

This is me trying to untangle the giant ball of emotions that I’ve let form inside me. This post and all of the ups and downs I’ve had over the past few months I feel are a result of not taking proper emotional care of myself.

I am now officially a college student… again. I start classes January 9th. At the moment I will only be taking General Biology. My advisor wants me to contest one of the classes I didn’t receive transfer credit for since it’s a higher level psychology than the General Psychology I need for my program. It would save me about $500 if it gets accepted and push me further into the program than I currently am. I haven’t tackled the whole “contesting” issue yet, but it’s on the to-do list for the not so distant future. At the moment I’m a bit burnt out of troubleshooting through school issues.

Registering for classes was a bitch and a half. The whole “It’s a one-click step” turned into a message of “Oh, it looks like you didn’t sign up for you Student Success class. Go do that before you enroll in other classes.”

Irrational Right Brain: I’m about to fucking flip shit if I have to take a “This is how you succeed in college” class when I already have a bachelors degree. I don’t need to be taught how to succeed in college because I’ve already done it. /sets computer on fire

I took a screenshot of the message and sent it to my advisor saying “Please advise”.

It took about 19 other steps to actually get my submission through. A few days later I checked and found out that my request was accepted.

So yeah… I’m officially working towards my RN.

It’s a good feeling while at the same time it sucks. It makes me miss mom. It makes me hurt. It makes me feel a lot of things. For most of the month or however long it’s been since I’ve written a lot of my time has been spent trying to deal with emotions. Or at least tend to them enough to not drown in them.

I’ve had a lot of downs and hard days lately. I think part of that, a large part of it, has to do with how the seasons are changing to the cold months. The rest months. The months were everything slows down. I understand why we need these months and I respect them, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them or that they’re easy for me.

I wake up cold. There isn’t as much sunlight. It’s not my season and I can feel it like sandpaper under my skin.

I think not being able to workout as much as I want/am used to has a lot to do with it as well. I go to work before the sun is up. I leave after the sun has set. I stay in the same room all day. I’m constantly tending to the needs of others.

Days I work are days where I have almost no time to care for myself. I have no solitude time. I have no destress time. I wake up, work, come home, try to sleep. Those are my work days and so I don’t think they’re helping make this already hard time of the year any easier.

It’s also turning into the holiday season which feels like an added dose of alcohol to the salt already being scrubbed into an infected wound. I have to figure out what to do for Thanksgiving and Christmas and my birthday and New Years, all without mom.

Two Fridays ago I didn’t go to work. I woke up and knew for the first time since I started working at the clinic that I was going to call out and that it didn’t matter if they couldn’t replace me on the floor, I wasn’t going in.

I was sad. It was going to be a 16 hour day. I could either not go in and cover my shift on Saturday, or go in and quit halfway through my shift. And not an “I’m sick and going home” type of quit. It would have been an “I’m not giving two weeks notice. Fuck you guys. I’m not coming back,” type of quit.

I didn’t have it with me that day and I didn’t care. Life showed up to the battlefield ready to go and instead of putting on my armor and taking another beating I refused to show up. I didn’t run away. I didn’t cower in fear. I just gave zero fucks and didn’t show up to the fight because fuck you, Life.

It worked out that I was able to take the whole day to myself. I stayed at home and did literally nothing. I didn’t even change out of my pjs.

At the end of the night, as I was turning off the kitchen light to go back upstairs to my room, I paused and looked at mom’s urn. I thought about leaving but instead, I walked over to my china hutch, mom’s china hutch, and I put both of my hands on her urn.

Me: I promise I’ll do better tomorrow, mom.

From there I completely broke down into tears. I sank to my knees and wrapped my arms around the blue marble rectangle which holds the ashes of what used to be the most incredible person I have ever had the honor of meeting and sobbed until my chest ached from crying so hard.

I told her about work. I told her about loving my patients and hating my job. I told her about school. I told her about still not knowing what I want to do once I’m a nurse. I told her I’m sorry if I make her worry.

I didn’t really feel better after crying, but I felt a bit more stable. Sort of like I was on the path to feeling better.

I ended up researching different nursing positions later that night after I made it back to my room.

I’m looking further into holistic nursing. I think that’s the direction I want to go, though I still don’t know exactly how I would apply the things I want. I feel like I have most of the puzzle pieces and that now it’s a matter of putting them all together.

I did go to work the next day; Saturday. My teammates asked me if I was feeling better to which I replied no. No, I wasn’t, but I had promised I would make today better so I was at work and that in itself was an improvement.

They understood where I was emotionally and were extremely supportive of me.

I finally have taken the CVC class and am now officially a full member of the team. It’s nice knowing that I can be more helpful than not.

I’ve been going to therapy a lot more recently. I think that’s helping work through some things, and maybe I’ve written more recently than I think because I know I wrote about my “trust issues” session. That was only about three weeks ago, right? Something along those lines…

Kyle has moved in. We actually had dinner together last night when I got back from the dojo. He asked how I was doing having him as a roommate. Overall things have been going well. He’s still unemployed but is looking for work. He’s had a few interviews already. The few things that I can see potentially leading to issues later down the line we talked about, like how my computer is now in the dining room because my room is too small to have both a bed and computer desk in it. That means it’s not a very good work environment when he’s in the living room watching movies or talking to his friends via the PlayStation.

It sucks. It’s hard to not feel like a failure when it feels like I have downgraded so far in life.

I’m having to donate plasma to get enough extra money to cover my bills. I could go with the option of working 4 days a week instead, but since doing that on the last schedule had me contemplating self-harm almost every time I clocked out of work I don’t think it would be emotionally or spiritually healthy for me to do entertain that option.

One of the side effects of having to donate plasma is I have to be on top of my water intake as well as my iron and protein levels. It’s making me be more conscious of what I eat and how I’m taking care of myself. It’s making me choose between having a cigarette and not healing well enough to donate a second time or making money so I can buy groceries.

No. I don’t like getting stabbed with needles, but I can’t skim over the fact that there are a few positives to this avenue I’m choosing to take.

I went to the dojo last night. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve gone. I had mild anxiety over going. I pushed through it though and had a pretty good night. Everyone was extremely welcoming. I got to see Jim and Tommy. Caroline and Paul were there, too. It felt like coming home.

This past week I haven’t done much in the way of exercise and I could feel it in my body as we warmed up. I could feel my muscles protesting as I pushed them but also rejoicing as they were finally used and stretched. It was the first fundamentals class I’ve gone to. I enjoyed it. We practiced some techniques from mount which is a position I can get to, but I never know what to do once I’m there, so it was nice.

I felt like it was all stuff that was on my level and doable. Just new. There were only two rounds of sparring instead of three or five, which I was also ok with. I pushed hard during them. I was tapped out once by an armbar but the guy was super complimentary about my defense.

By the end of the session, I was done. Physically and emotionally. On the drive home I cried and screamed for the first time in a really long time. It was the first time in a while that I felt angry and so my screams were not only those of pain but also rage at the injustice of mom being dead.

It felt good to scream. It felt good to cry. It felt good to give in to all of those emotions that I keep having to work through. It’s the holidays. It’s winter. It’s hard. And instead of sucking it up I let all of those emotions have their time as I drove from the dojo to the pizza place where I was supposed to meet Kyle.

While we were at dinner I talked about my cry session. Kyle lets me talk without giving advice which I appreciate. Most of the time I don’t want advice. I just want someone to listen. I don’t need to be told it will be ok. I don’t need someone to tell me “they know how I feel”. I want to be able to vocally admit that in some areas of my brain things suck. These emotions exist. They are facts. I feel this way. I want it to be known. That’s all.

I want it to be like any other part of the conversation.

Me: Traffic sucked. The chick at work wouldn’t shut up. I miss mom. By the way, I’m in college again. How was your day?

Big Bad and I had date night Saturday. It was the first time in a while where we went out instead of staying at his place. We saw the new Thor movie and had dinner together. There was a little bit of sexy time when we got home, but mostly we cuddled together and talked about really deep stuff before going to sleep.

Lately, when I’ve played, which is how I refer to my BDSM sessions, I’ve had a very low pain tolerance. We talked about that which was where I genuinely admitted to things being hard emotionally.

I know I’ve told other people that things have been hard, but I always skim over it. I say it in a “yeah things are hard, but I’ll figure it out” sort of way.

When I told Big Bad it was hard I left it at that. Things are hard and I hurt. I didn’t put on a strong face. I didn’t try to cover up any of the pain. I just left it as it is/was. I hurt already. I really don’t want to hurt more. I would rather be held and feel warm and safe because so much of my life feels cold and nebulous right now.

He offered to cuddle which I gladly accepted.

Once we were snuggled under the covers in his bed we started talking again. He told me a fair amount of what’s going on in his life. His ex-wife isn’t being very nice. I’m grateful he talked to me. I’m glad we were able to connect on something other than a sexual level because that’s what it’s felt like recently. Because we see each other so limitedly a lot of our interactions are sexual.

This felt more emotional and I appreciated the difference. I needed the difference.

Earlier in the evening, we had to wait a few hours for the movie to start so we walked around some of the shops before going into the theater. At one point during our meandering we found a bench, so we sat for a while. I told him about school and he congratulated me while hugging me to his chest. He said he was proud of me.

I know he’s not mom, nor do I want him to be my parental figure, but it does mean a lot to me to hear those words from him. It hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt and I don’t know how else to explain it.

I know mom is proud of me. And as I write all of this I have those stupid, silent tears running down my cheeks making me more dehydrated.

I feel like I’ve been doing really well even though I don’t give myself a lot of credit. I feel like a slacker even though I know I’ve been taking care of Life. I’ve been problem-solving and trying to stay on top of my fitness and work and social life. I’ve been battling with the Evil Voice in my head that likes to whisper that I’m failing even when I know I’m not.

I’ve been hanging in there. Some days are a lot easier than others but so far I have woken up each day and made it to the end. I’ve survived every day and I’m not going to let the Evil Voice take away or diminish the level of accomplishment that is.

I didn’t get everything done on my to-do list today, but I did a lot and I’m happy with that. I go to work tomorrow, but I’ll be spending the evening with Big Bad so I have something to look forward to, and then Thursday and Friday are days off.

Working three days a week has been manageable. I’ve requested the week of my birthday off and was approved.

I know there’s a ton of other stuff I should write about, like how Mother Earth was hospitalized and was released only this evening, but I’m written out. I have no more tears for tonight. I’m back to being flatline rather than the chaotic mess I felt before.

I’m going to go see if Kyle will watch another episode of Stranger Things with me because that’s what we’ve been doing since he moved in. Until next time, thanks for listening.