Daily Post 107: Lazy Rainy Day

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I’m trying to eek writing in while Lil’ Ox is in the shower.

The day started around 6 am with breakfast and a Cotton Candy Bang. When the kids woke up we continued playing Stuffed Fables. By 9 am Mama, Papa, and Lil Ox headed out. I showered and got dressed so Ox, Oronry Ox, and I could head into town to run errands.

Of course, we forgot that today is Sunday and nearly everything has screwy hours. The game store we wanted to go back to didn’t open until noon. The place we wanted to eat at didn’t open until 10:30. It was a rainy, dreary type of day and even though it seemed like we were hitting brick walls anytime we tried to do something we eventually made it work.

We went to Bed, Bath, and Beyond to look at pot sets. I was worried about buying one because I didn’t want Mama Ox to not like it or be angry or hurt because she wasn’t part of the picking process. There was a really good return policy with the store, though. If you didn’t like the set you have a year to return it as long as you keep your receipt. Well… it’s hard not to take something home with a return policy like that.

We ended up getting a set that happened to be on clearance. We got a roughly $200 set for $70. Can’t really beat that. And if Mama Ox totally was against it we could bring it back. I still had to fight off anxiety for most of the rest of our trip. I’m always worried about changing things or getting something new. It’s her space and her stuff and I’m the outsider messing things up. I didn’t want the new pot set to be another thing I’m doing wrong.

By the time we were done at Bed, Bath, and Beyond it was late enough for use to get lunch. We went to a burger place. At first, I was frustrated. Everything was on Texas Toast or fried or very much a “I shouldn’t be eating this if I’m trying to lose weight.” My options were pretty much five salads. Six if you included the side salad as an option.

It made me wonder if this is what people with food sensitives go through. It sucks feeling like I’m keeping people from having what they want or making things more complicated. It mildly sucks to feel like people won’t take a bullet for you and go to a “healthy” place instead of a fast food place. Not that Ox has ever done that. He’s amazingly supportive for the most part. Except for this morning where he tried to foist off a donut on me. >.>

I’m proud to report that I didn’t eat the donut and that it’s wrapped up and sitting on the counter still.

Anyway… yeah. I didn’t think I was going to enjoy lunch and that I was going to be spending money to make everyone else happy but that I would be getting shafted with a shitty salad. I ended up getting a cranberry and bacon blue salad. It turned out to be better than I had hoped for. I would be ok with going back there and getting that particular salad again. That helped.

By the end of lunch I was getting tired. All of the driving around and all of the social interaction from yesterday and this morning, combined with the worry about the pots and stress I put myself through with trying to figure out what to eat… I really just wanted to be done with figuring things out.

We decided for our final stop to be Walmart. Ox and I picked out blackout curtains for the room. I got another roast since I’m going to run out of my breakfasts before the week is done. I couldn’t find the stevia packets I wanted, but I remembered to get a replacement container of basil and dryer sheets for the house.

Ox and I got to have some alone time together since Ornery Ox went back to the computer room and no one else was home yet.

When Mama Ox got home we explained the deal with the new pots and went through the old pots and pans, getting rid of the ones that were peeling and icky. We still have to figure out how to arrange things in the kitchen, but I think the new pot set will work. I cooked my burgers in one of the skillets tonight. I like the weight and feel of it. It feels good. Balanced. I like how easy it was to clean up. The set had good reviews online and so far, through my single use of one of its skillets, I have to agree with everything I read.

While I was in the kitchen cleaning, Ox put up the curtain rod and curtains. I like them but we won’t know how effective they are until it’s a sunny day and I’m trying to fall asleep at 7.

We finished playing through the first story of Stuffed Fables. The kids really wanted to continue playing into the second story but Ox and I both agreed it would be better to wait until we have them again to start a new game since we wouldn’t have been able to get to the end before bedtime. I’m glad they’re both so captivated by something away from the computer. I feel like we’ve spent a lot of quality time together and though it still takes a bit of energy, I don’t resent it. It’s not like the times I tried to play Minecraft. I enjoyed spending my energy the way I did.

It makes me more ok with the thoughts of future weekends. I think we’re all finally figuring out how to coexist together. I was still able to get what I wanted and needed to done.

I got to write. I got to go to the gym. I even got to do a bit of my own gaming. My goldsmith is level 36 or 37. I did a few of the challenges in my challenge log. I earned more credits so I can get promoted within my grand company soon. I want to spend about 30 more minutes farming mithril since my character’s buff lasts that long, but it depends on how long it takes me to finish writing and doing my last few chores.

Oh. Another thing that happened while we were in Lincoln was stopping by Goodwill to donate the clothes I just replaced. It’s nice to have the bag out of the house and not taking up space.

It’s supposed to rain all of tomorrow so I’m not sure if SCA combat will happen on Tuesday. The ground might be too wet still.

I’m mostly prepped for tomorrow. I still need to make my protein shakes, but Ox’s lunch is already done.

I guess there really isn’t much else to report.

Ox and I have been more sexual since I’ve been back from my trip. I like it. I don’t know what else to say. I like the way it makes me feel physically and emotionally. I guess there really isn’t anything else to say on that topic. I’m aware of the change. I’m grateful for the change. It makes it feel more ok to be me.

I started looking into the LPN program this morning. I have until October to register for classes in January. There are some prerequisites that I’ll need to take before I can start the program. I’m hoping I can still worm my way out of English 101. I’ve already done did that class.

I want to get the application process started, so I’ll add that to the to-do list for Tuesday most likely. Since I don’t have to worry too much about meal prep or chores or errands, I should have most of the day to pluck away at the paperwork.

Yeah… not a terribly eventful day unless you count defeating evil nightmare minions eventful.

Seriously, Stuffed Fables is a super cute game and I encourage anyone remotely interested in DnD type tabletop games to give it a shot.

And I guess with that I’m going to go so I can finish up the last bit of my to-do list so I can go run around in circles beating up rocks.

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Daily Post 070: The Last Day

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There are so many areas of my life to work through at the moment. To clean up; much like the apartment. So many places to empty out, scrub down, sort through… maybe not in that order, but it’s all on the to-do list.

I’m going to start with work because work is easy. It always has been for me and continues to be the easiest area to analyze, figure out, and explain. The easiest section to set to rights and be done with.

I talked to the FA from Nebraska. Apparently, she replied to my email. I never received it and I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t, so I feel it’s more likely that she thought she replied rather than she actually did reply. Either way, we talked on Thursday. I am set up to shadow at one of the clinics on February 23rd, which is a Friday.

There’s not an official offer yet. They want to see how I fit with the team and all that jazz, and honestly, I’m ok with that. That gives me roughly two weeks to myself, though most of the first one will be taken up by traveling and getting situated. During the second week, if not towards the end of the first week, I plan to find a gym and to begin/continue conditioning since that is something I plan to start seriously going back to next week; the week before the move.

I’m thinking that finding a YMCA might be a better option at the moment. I liked the one I used to go to; the one I I would bike to until they closed it down to rebuild it. It won’t be done until the end of this year, but the few times I’ve driven past it have been nice. It’s going to be a gorgeous facility once it’s done. Too bad I won’t be here to enjoy it.

I liked the classes that were offered. It was homey and comfortable feeling for me. I know it’s not the kickboxing or jujitsu that I will eventually find, but for the time being, I want a gym and I want yoga in my life again. So yeah, that will be one of the first things I do outside of becoming comfortable in my new living situation.

So that’s the future of work. Shadowing. Playing the “Game”. Making sure I make good impressions so they like me and follow through with hiring me.

As far as work in Orlando…

I worked my last day today. I feel lighter. Knowing that I’m no longer obligated to the crushing weight of working at one of the most demanding clinics in the area is freeing. I no longer “have” to wake up at 2:20 am. I no longer “have” to work a sixteen-hour shift.

I know the next week is still going to be hard and full of tasks, just as demanding, if not more so in some ways, than what work was, but I’m mostly looking forward to all of those tasks. It’s conflicting because I did enjoy my clinic; my teammates, my patients. I’m also glad I’m not having to give up what feels like a huge part of myself. I don’t have to choose between going to work and self-care at the moment. I can do the things I want and need to do to be ok. It’s liberating at the moment.

I did pick up extra hours this week. I worked part of Monday, a day which I was supposed to have off. I also picked up a shift at a different clinic. It was my first time working outside of my normal environment.

My FA came to me Wednesday afternoon while I was working and mentioned the Airport clinic, the one I trained at, needed someone to cover for one of their technicians and wanted to know if I would be interested in the hours.

Since I’m about to move to a completely different state to work at, potentially, three different clinics, I figured it would be a good experience to have sooner rather than later.

I need to know what it feels like to walk into a facility and to have NO idea where anything is or who the patients are or what the team members are like. I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. That I could work a day somewhere else and survive and not kill anyone.

I would have had to face that anxiety at some point so I decided to do it now, while I still had a relative idea of what the clinic looked like, while I still knew who the FA was, while I still knew how to drive to the clinic and where to park and what their breakroom looked like and the type of coffee they have for their fancy coffee machine.

Yeah, it was a fuck ton of “new”, but it was also a lot of familiar. I got to see Jonathan, one of the FA’s who interviewed me when I was first being considered by the company. I got to see Omar who was my trainer during my initial training. I got to tell both of them about my moving and how I was grateful for their support and encouragement. They got to wish me well and congratulate me on surviving and staying with the company.

I got to experience what it’s like to work with new patients who are familiar with their environment. They’re not the visitor. I am. All of them trusted me enough to do their cannulations. Even though I was slower than what I have come to feel is my norm, mostly because I had to keep asking where they kept things, I felt like I held my own and that I was actually helpful.

I proved to myself that I can be the new person and still get the job done and that’s what I needed to know. I can go to other clinics and survive. I can talk to and work with new technicians and RNs and be competent. I can interact with new patients and still be kind, caring, and attentive while dealing with the overwhelm of being in a new place.

I can do it, and that makes the choice to move feel that much more right.

I worked today, my scheduled day, and it was actually a pretty good day. When some of my patients tried to say goodbye to me I said it wouldn’t be the last time they would see me.

I tried saying goodbyes on Wednesday and it made the day so much harder. All of the kind words and hugs and feelings… I didn’t want to go through that again today. I also didn’t want to have to rush through my goodbyes because another patient needed to be taken off the machine, or because I had to reset a station, or whatever other countless tasks need to be accomplished during change over.

I wanted to be able to have heartfelt moments with people who have impacted my life.

So, instead, I decided early this morning that one of the things I will do with my remaining week is to go to the clinic and to say farewell to my patients. I already have thank you cards which I need to fill out. One for each individual I have met while working there, including my teammates.

This is different than leaving Full Sail, and even then I wrote an email explaining the situation, and the people I worked with played a few rounds of laser tag with me as a way of saying goodbye.

I need to say “I’ll see you later” to these people. I can’t not do it and be ok with the move. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to write my personalized, deep, emotional, teary-eyed messages in my thank you cards and give them to each patient I have had the honor of meeting, tucked safely into an unassuming envelope. I’ll shake hands, or hug. I’ll most likely tear up and feel loved and appreciated on levels that I didn’t know where possible, since that’s what most of Wednesday was, and even though I know it will be hard and it will hurt, I know I need to do it.

The wife of one of the patients went out Wednesday night and bought me cupcakes as a thank you for me taking care of her husband. Another patient who served in the Army shook my hand after I had finished taping him up and said, “It was a pleasure serving with you.”

Yeah… all of the feels. I DO make a difference, and that means the world to me because that was the whole point of my career change. I didn’t know how I could keep going without mom. I didn’t know if I had a reason to. I needed to do something that mattered, that was important, so there could be an anchor to hold me here. I needed a job where I HAD to keep going because what I did actually mattered.

Wednesday was, is, undeniable proof that the past nine-ish months of my life have impacted others on levels I never imagined I could.

There’s a “going away” party with my teammates tonight. Several of us are getting ready to leave the clinic so it’s not specifically for me, but I am part of it.

While the thought of not having to go back out into the world and staying at home in my pjs alone sounds amazing, I know if I don’t go I’ll regret it for forever. This is my last hoorah with them. I need to be there, even if it’s only for an hour.

That’s about it as far as work for what I will always think of as my home clinic.

It made me what I am. I’ve worked for nine months at what is considered one of the hardest clinics in our area and I have become a battle-hardened badass. My teammates helped pick me back up when I started questioning myself or feeling like a failure. They shared their knowledge and experiences with me. They were encouraging and supportive, as were my patients.

I am able to confidently move because of my time here and I will always remember that fact. I did not get here alone. And even though I know it will change, the Downtown clinic will always be special to me.

That’s about it for work I think… at least for the moment.

That means I can move on to the harder areas… hooray…. -_-;

Alright… A slightly less hard area… I’ve been closing out accounts and memberships for the things here in Orlando. I canceled my 24-hour fitness membership. That actually worked out extremely well because my personal trainer was there. We’re friends on Facebook, but it was nice to see her. It was nice having the opportunity to explain how everything had progressed to the point it had and to say goodbye in person. It was nice to thank her for everything she did for me because it wasn’t just about having me lift weights.

She was the first person I talked to about conditioning for MMA. She listened to me bitch about work and the apartment. She listened to me on the days that were hard because I was grieving and really didn’t want to workout but I knew that I didn’t want to let my grief win so I showed up. She helped get me to the point of flipping tires and jumping boxes. She was the one who made me realize that I am fit. I am strong. Just because I want to improve on something doesn’t mean I’m not already that thing.

She was another key person during this year of stability for me and even though I was there to cancel my membership, it was a positive moment because it marked a step forward in my life. Beginnings happen because something else ends and not all ends are bad.

I need to still cancel my Title Club Boxing membership, but that requires me to send an email with proof of blah blah blah blah… and I just haven’t gotten around to doing it yet. The staff knows I’m leaving and I’ll be refunded the personal training I bought but never had the time to use.

That leaves the dojo… which I went to on Wednesday.

I don’t know why, maybe it was because everything that day had been so emotional, but as I was driving back to my apartment, trying not to break down into tears as I drove, I had the sudden swelling urge to go to my dojo. I NEEDED to see my senseis. I NEEDED to be there, in the one area in all of Orlando that has felt like home for me since mom died.

So I did. I went there. I walked in during the Muay Thai class in my scrubs and work shoes. Both of my instructors were sitting in the back of the dojo with a handful of other people. Mongoose got up and gave me a hug and told me congratulations since she read a post I had made on Facebook. My sensei clasped my hand, a wide smile on his face of genuine pleasure from seeing back at the dojo.

I stayed there for a while, mostly talking with Mongoose. It helped me decompress. It helped me feel like things were ok. It helped me… I don’t know what, but I know it did help. I felt better as I walked out of the dojo barefoot. I felt more connected. I felt stronger.

I have to go through and do a formal cancelation thing, but that’s not what Wednesday night was about. Wednesday night was about going home for a little bit and seeing my pseudo-family. At some point in the coming week, I’ll go back and finish taking care of things.

The only other accounts to close out are the ones for the apartment. I need to switch the internet over to Warren and I need to set a closing date for the power.

Past that it’s getting Ms. Side Chick onto the lease and me off of it. I’ve already been in touch with my landlord so he knows about the situation. I’m waiting on him to send me an application to send to her so she can fill it out and more legal red tape bullshit so I can wash my hands of the apartment and be done with it.

I. CAN. NOT. WAIT.

Oh my god. Like… for real, I can’t put into words how amazing it will be to drive away from here and to legitimately be able to give absolutely zero fucks about what happens once I’m gone.

I have still, STILL, had to do all of Warren’s dishes. And I get that I don’t “have” to, but when it’s freaking 3 am and the sink is full of his shit and I need to actually use the sink there really isn’t a way around taking care of it. I don’t have time to wait for him to wake up… I have to go to work. Talking to him about it for the past year and some change hasn’t done anything, so why throw a complete bitch fit over it now, the last week that I’m here and burn every possible chance of him actually paying me back?

Because I want to rain down death and destruction on his life for being a shitty roommate. God, the thought of flipping shit on him feels amazing inside of my head. There’s a part of me who wants to break every dish he owns just to prove the point of how sick I am of being his mother.

What’s sort of sad is how Ms. Side Chick is all on board with moving in and taking my spot because, according to Warren, she loves the idea of finally being able to be with him in all of that rose-tinted colored glory.

What’s going to happen is she’s going to move in and see the reality of the situation and get tired of his shit and want to leave.

I’m not saying Amber was an amazing partner to Warren. I’m sure a lot of the stuff Warren told me was truthful, but there was a reason she fell out of love with him and called off the engagement. From the five years I dated Warren to the now year and a half-ish that we’ve lived together… I am willing to bet realizing she had three kids instead of two was a contributing factor.

I’m not going to say jack shit to him about it because I’m fucking tired of trying to talk and being disregarded. I’m going to watch this situation play out and when/if he comes to me crying about how she left, I’m going to ask if he helped maintain the apartment or if she was the only one doing chores. I’m going to ask if he actually helped in any way and showed that he was an independent adult or if she had to manage not only her life but his. Was he an equal partner or a helpless dependent?

I realize this may be a darker side of my personality, but there is going to be a very sick and twist part of me who’s going to do the “I told you so” dance so hard when that conversation happens because it will validate every fucking conversation I had with him where I told him I was unhappy with the situation, offered compromises and alternative solutions, and he did nothing to fix it.

It will be that moment where I get to quietly point out that, oh yeah, I was right the whole time and you should have listened to me but instead you didn’t and here we are… Oh… Sorry. Totally not going to feel sorry for you. You should have done the fucking dishes since they were YOUR dishes. Or swept up the dog fur since it’s YOUR FUCKING DOG instead of having this delusional idea that the dish fairy actually exists.

No. I’m not a fucking dish fairy. I’m a dragon who’s about to rip your throat out because I’m tired of your shit.

No hostility or pent-up frustration over this issue… None what so ever…

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So I guess this is a good place to segway into all of the other hard topics… like relationships… because you know… writing 3000 words and counting isn’t enough…

/sigh

Jon and I are going to have breakfast tomorrow before he goes into work. It may be the last time I see him before I move. I’m sad at the thought, but there’s really not much else to say about that relationship.

We still chat for a few minutes roughly every other day. Mostly it’s him bitching about his new job and how he hates working at a nursing home. I don’t blame him.

I do feel like he and I will stay in relative contact. I do think the move will put some strain on our relationship since he doesn’t agree with my choice. He thinks I’m about to fuck everything and get pregnant and become addicted to heroin…

No. For real. He said all of that to me over the phone.

Like… thanks dude for having so much faith in my ability to make smart rational decisions on my own.

The only way I can prove to him that I’m doing the right thing is to do it and not fuck up. Since it seems to be the season for me to have these irresistible urges to prove people wrong… I’m going to do it. And I’m going to prove to him that moving was the best decision I ever made for myself, next to telling Zane to go fuck himself and Full Sail that it could burn in Hell.

Yeah… both of those decisions were pretty amazing and deliciously satisfying, too… Ah… memories…

So yeah, things with Jon will be whatever they will be and that’s pretty much how it has always been, so there’s nothing really overly new or exciting to write about it I guess.

It’s going to be hard leaving tomorrow afternoon. I’m going to cry. I’m going to miss him even though he’s not really gone… fucking emotions…

I don’t know if I’ll have the chance to see my blacksmith before I leave. I hope so. I have his things that I would like to return. I’m not sure what I will do if I can’t return them. I know I can’t get rid of them, but they’re not mine so I can’t really keep them either…

I don’t know. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, I guess. Currently, I’m waiting to see if he can get time off work for us to meet one last time. It’s another reminder that we would never have been able to have any sort of real happily ever after.

I went to therapy on Thursday, and I mention that in this relationship section because my relationship with my therapist is changing. It was a pretty intense session since we had to go all the way back to Thanksgiving. I opened the session by mentioning that I was moving. We had to backtrack that far to get to the beginning of the events that led to this moment in my life.

Because I will be moving we have decided that I will no longer be a client and can now move into the position of friend. I am honored and grateful that someone who has helped me survive and heal and grow so much asked if we could be friends on Facebook.

During our session, I was able to talk about Ox. While I do value everyone’s opinion, and I do weigh pros and cons within my head, this is a person who is paid to tell me when I’m being self-destructive and doing stupid shit. If anyone has a right to tell me something’s a bad idea, it’s her, since that’s what she’s literally paid to do.

After listening to me explain all of the events she said it seemed like a positive opportunity for me and that the Universe was doing a lot to allow for this to happen.

She said instead of over analyzing things like I always do I should let it be. I should let it exist for whatever reason that it is. I don’t have to know the why and how. I don’t have to listen to outside voices or wonder if they’re right.

I should listen to my voice. The one that whispers. The one that I always question if it’s real or not. That voice of Intuition that tells me when something’s good or bad even though I can’t really put my finger on why it is what it is.

I didn’t ask her for permission to do this. I didn’t ask if it was the right or wrong thing to do. I essentially asked if I was crazy for wanting to try, and explore, and to see. Just like how that was the main reason for my trip to Nebraska in the first place. I wanted to see if the things I felt were real, or if it was all just make-believe inside of my head.

It was real for the three days I was there. The feeling of absolute peace from walking in the woods even though there was snow on the ground… that was real. The feeling of home and acceptance… that was real.

If it was real for three days, I want to see if it can be real for longer.

She thinks it would be positive for me to try. I think it would have been too late to undo a lot of my choices if she had come back and said, “You realize all of this is batshit insane…”

Yeah… that would have sort of sucked and put a dampener on a lot of things. I wonder if you can undo letters of resignation…

I’m glad and relieved that she thinks I have researched and planned and gone about this in a relatively logical and thought out way. It may be sudden, but it doesn’t seem to be impulsive or causing harm to my self; emotionally, physically, spiritually, or financially.

At the moment, aside from the pain of endings, it has only had positive effects, but all change comes with its own level of hurts so the pain I am feeling in regards to the move is understandable and even expected.

So that’s that… and even though there’s STILL more to write… I’m pretty written out…

The rest can be saved for another day, and with work not demanding my time, I may actually be able to sit and write and process more often than the never it has been for so long now.

I’m looking forward to the coming week. I’m looking forward to a lot of things in the very near future. And in my own, weird, introverted way, I’m looking forward to this going away party tonight. Maybe there’s be a cat I can hang out with or something.

 

Daily Post 068: Moving On

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I’m back home. Or rather, I’m back at my apartment.

My evening was decent. Big Bad and I talked for a while at the kitchen table before going back to the bedroom to cuddle and sleep. I slept deeply up to a certain point then tossed and turned for a while. My back was bothering for no apparent reason which made it hard to fall back asleep. I eventually did, so I feel fairly rested, more so then I have since I’ve gotten back from my trip. It’s my second day off in a row, another day with few obligations and so I’m hoping for the trend to continue. The trend of recovering and feeling more myself energy wise. More able to do things and less like avoiding people.

Things between Big Bad and I seem fine. He was interested in hearing about my trip. He still seems supportive of my decision to move, and that support feels genuine. I think there are feelings on both of our parts of sadness that our time is finite. Realistically, if I leave when I’m hoping to, we may only see each other another three or four times. One of those times will be the Warrior Dash that neither of us has really prepared for. I know I will do fine on the obstacles but I haven’t run much at all this past year so I feel like most of the course is going to be walked again.

I’m not really sure how I feel about that.

It’s sobering to realize how much I haven’t progressed the way I wanted to physically. Ever since April I’ve done nothing but cut back my time for training. Ever since getting a job. Though I still eat fairly clean I can see a difference there, too. It’s harder to drink water because I’m less active, and I don’t think it has solely do with the fact that it’s winter, though I’m sure that’s not helping things.

I don’t think I’m disappointed in myself. I do think work kept me from doing as much as I wanted to in regards to working out. I think I made smart choices in most situations. At the same time, it would have been nice to progress more than I did. It’s more of a wistful longing rather than shame or disappointment. “It’s not bad, but it would have been nice…” sort of a feeling.

I’m worried that the Warrior Dash won’t be the uplifting event that it has been for me the past two years. I’m worried it’s going to be clouded by the fact that I’m leaving. I’m worried it will be cold and windy that day. I worried it won’t be fun. I’m worried that potentially my last time with Big Bad won’t be a warm, positive memory.

After having our evening together though I think even if it ends up being an icky day that we’ll be ok. We can still have good times together even though they’re numbered. It doesn’t change our friendship or the connection we have. He’s still one of my closest friends and it’s reassuring that even with the news of me leaving, we’re still able to be ourselves.

I haven’t spoken with my blacksmith much. He knows the interview went well, but since I still don’t have official news yet it’s hard to reach out to people. I don’t have answers to their questions.

After speaking with my boss Wednesday we agreed to wait until noon Friday. If the FA in Nebraska still has not contacted either of us by then, then I will call and see if she received my email. I know everyone gets busy and at the moment I may not be their utmost priority, but it’s hard to plan for things when I don’t know, officially, what is going on or in the works.

There’s still the chance for this to fall through, or for the time frame to be drastically different than what I’m expecting. Waiting a month seems doable. Two months would be harder. Three would downright suck. So, hopefully, after my phone call today I will have a better idea of what to plan for.

Since the move in a pending event and because I haven’t been using them the way I intended, I will be canceling my gym memberships today. Both the 24 Hour Fitness and the Title Club Boxing. That would give me roughly $100 of my paycheck. My heart aches from the thought of their cancelation. In a way, I feel like it’s a defeat.

For so long I said I wouldn’t give up the dojo or my training, and yet that’s the first thing that got sacrificed. Actually… my evenings with Big Bad were the first thing to suffer. Instead of my two nights a week it changed to only one. Then came the dojo, then Title Club, then my personal training since I didn’t have a way to pay for it anymore.

It’s frustrating, constantly having to give things up because of outside sources rather than because I want to. Work and shitty roommates not paying rent…

I woke up this morning, a Thursday, a day I had personal training for so long, and decided that instead of fighting and feeling bad for not being able to achieve what I want, I will cancel my memberships and continue to rest and focus my energy elsewhere.

I still need to become certified for work. I need to figure out logistics for the apartment and moving. I need to research cost and potential storage. I need to also ensure I don’t burn out with work, which means downtime away from people and a break from higher level thinking and planning.

Stepping back and being a bit reclusive for the next little bit might make things easier. It’s still winter. It’s still a time for reflection, something I really haven’t done much of, at least not in writing.

I’m still tethered to my roommates at the moment. I got paid this morning. Without their additional contributions rent still won’t be able to be paid. I’ve sent messages to both of them, letting them know the situation. Even once it’s paid I won’t have enough to pay my remaining bills until they finish making their full contribution.

It sucks knowing my bills are the ones in jeopardy. I’m the one having to hold my breath and hope that things work out. I’m the one still donating plasma to stay afloat.

Warren finished his leadership training yesterday. He’s applied for the second interview for the team lead position. I’m hoping that works out for him. It would mean a potential $2 increase.

In that regard, his side chick is interested in moving into the apartment if I leave. Essentially, I would be signed off the lease and she would take my spot. Warren has discussed the situation with her. Financially, this apartment is only slightly more expensive than the one she currently pays for on her own. She has agreed with Warren to continue paying that amount if she moves in, so he would only need to pay the difference. That means most of his extra income could go towards paying me back.

That would be amazing.

I’m not sure what Kyle intends to do, but he knows my leaving is a pending event. Once I know a specific date it will be easier for everyone to start moving forward. Side Chick would have to break her lease, which will be $1800. Between her, Warren, and myself, it shouldn’t be that terrible of an expense all things considered. It’s one of the reasons I plan to continue to donate plasma. Any extra money will help make this happen.

And writing about money makes old wounds ache because I’m still owed so much by so many people. If I had that back, if I hadn’t helped others, I would be better able to help myself right now. It’s fallen to the way of wishful thinking as well. It’s a golden, rose-colored imagining, one which has never held up with brought into the coldness of reality and facts.

Soon I will be able to make the phone call. Soon I should know a better, more solid time frame. Soon I’ll be able to start planning and letting people know logistics. Soon I’ll start being able to set goodbye outings and establishing closure.

Soon I’ll be able to move on.

Daily Post 063: Waking Up Awake

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Tuesday was my day of self-care. I still think of it that way even though it turned into a crap-tastic day. I broke that evening. I knew it was coming, I could feel it, I just wasn’t expecting it to be now I guess.

Tuesday I wrote. I had planned to study. I had planned things. A light to-do list, but never the less I had planned for the day to be productive and relaxing.

It started with writing, which helped. It moved from there to paying bills since I was still on the computer. I figured I wouldn’t be able to pay all of my bills this early in the month since I was missing so much of Warren’s contribution, but I figured I could pay rent and have that out of the way. The one major, main bill I have anxiety over would be taken care of.

That quickly turned into realizing that I am short $100 to make the payment. Not that I myself am short. I have my part of the payment. What I am missing is the rest of Warren’s part.

That spiraled into depression and sadness because I do have the savings to cover it, but that’s savings that I already have plans for. Like saving for myself so I have a cushion when my car suddenly breaks down or having to buy a $700 plane ticket to be with a dying family member because I’ve learned from personal experience that shit like that actually happens.

My savings, as meager as it is now, is the emergency money for the shit I can’t plan for. It was money left to me from mom that was never meant to help other people. It was meant to help me and it’s the last of it I have.

I decided, sitting there looking at my bank account and the numbers not working, that I wasn’t going to fix this problem. I wasn’t going to dip into the money I had just transferred into my “Me” fund and I wasn’t going to touch my savings. If Warren wanted rent to be paid then he needed to come up with the rest of his share, otherwise, there would be a late fee and I wouldn’t be the one paying it.

I decided then and there that I was done. I was done being the parent. The problem solver. I was done giving to make things easier for someone else.

I sent him a message saying we were short $100 for rent and then laid on the couch and let the silent tears have their way.

It was seven days until my birthday. Seven days until I’m 29.

Right Brain: Happy birthday! Your gift is not being able to pay rent.

Left Brain: You know… if you want… you can go fuck yourself right now. I’m cool with that.

Warren eventually came downstairs since he woke up. He ignored me for a little bit and I didn’t care. Before he took Bruno out he asked when rent was due. I said not until the 19th but because the amount was so large it takes a few days to transfer it. I said liked having it done as soon as possible to avoid complications.

He asked if it could wait until Friday. He would get paid Friday and he would be able to transfer me more to help out. I said yes. I said once rent was paid that I would have no money for any of the other bills like internet, power, my phone bill or car insurance. It was hard not to cry while admitting to that. That this is what my life is at the moment.

I asked him if I could ask something without it being a bitchy question. Warren said yes, so I asked what happened? What happened to all of the overtime he was supposed to have worked and the promotion with the dollar increase? How are things worse when everything should have been better?

He said that after the first week of the iPhone release his company took away the overtime because the call volume drastically dropped compared to what they were expected. The raise has only just started to kick in since he’s officially out of training. He was also denied FEMA assistance for Erma, which is pretty fucked up.

His side chick, which I realize she’s his companion and I’m being dismissive by referring to her in such a way, but right now, on my blog, in my head, I’m resentful of Warren indulging in things while I feel like I suffer, so yeah, for the time being, she’s Miss Side Chick. Anyway, she’s a Nero Scientist / Therapist / Doctor. Like, legit has a doctorate already and makes complete bank on her own.

She got FEMA assistance of $1000.

Warren on the other hand, who was without power for three days and then without internet for about another week and who could legitimately not work during that entire time, was denied any assistance. Nothing to replace the food we lost. Nothing to replace the income he missed out on because he couldn’t log into work. In fact, he told me he’s being investigated for fraud…

Yeah…

So he’s been trying to catch up from getting screwed in all of those ways.

I’m more understanding of his situation. I’m less irrationally angry and more frustrated with the situation. It sucks, but it is what it is. We’re all doing our best and trying to adult as well as we can.

Warren is assuming his mom is going to send him money for Christmas. She has for years. It hurts knowing he’ll get a Christmas gift from her; that he counts on it being there.

I’m not going to get anything. I’m not going to be in Vegas with my older brother and sister-in-law so I doubt we’ll do more than send text messages to each other. Maybe a phone call. My younger brother and I aren’t going to do much in the way of gift exchange. He mentioned he has bought something for me months ago at Salvation Army because when he saw it he knew it was meant for me, but we’re not wrapping gifts. We’re not going to have “holiday cheer”. We’re going to spend the day much like Thanksgiving; at his apartment surviving, understanding that both of us are sad and trying to hold our shit together.

I’m not going to be getting anything for my birthday either, which I don’t mean to make it sound like these days are about receiving things because they aren’t. I’ve never been big into giving or receiving gifts. I would rather spend time with the people I care about. But always, without fail, there would be a card from mom. AND a phone call. Not just text messages.

I have a meeting at work on Sunday. We’re doing a secret Santa exchange. We’re most likely going to be doing birthday wishes since a few of us have birthdays either recently passed or coming up. I don’t want to get a card from them. I don’t want it acknowledged. I don’t want to pretend like there isn’t a wound there that is having salt unintentionally ground into it. I don’t want to pretend like I’m ok with where I’m at in life when I’m not.

Tuesday I realized that I went from working out three hours five days a week to a single hour a week. Since the end of April, since getting this job, I have done nothing but give up my “Me” time. I work to the point where on my days off I don’t have it in me to do anything other than sleep. On the days I do train I also have to donate plasma now, so afterward I can’t do anything intense like sparring.

It sucks. I’m not ok with any of this.

Wednesday, yesterday, I woke up and wanted to cry at the thought of having to get out of bed and go to work for 16 hours. I hit snooze more than I should have. I was slow in the shower. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t finish my coffee. I put on my scrubs and made sure everything was packed for the day before fighting through the pain, tears running down my cheeks, as I walked to my car.

I drove to work. I tried not to break down as I put my bag down and switched into my work shoes. The day was rougher then it needed to be since I was working with Star Lord. That’s the nickname he has at the clinic. I don’t know the story behind it. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s super slow. On all of the days where I’ve had him as my RN, it’s felt like we’ve been short a person because he does so little. He takes 40 minutes to put one patient on the machine. He leaves tasks halfway finished because he hasn’t figured out how to multitask in such a fast-paced and demanding environment.

I’ll be the first to throw up my hand and admit that I was slow and disoriented in the beginning. I messed up and made things harder for my teammates for a while I’m sure. I was the weakest link and I’m sure when people saw my name on their side of the clinic there was an inward sigh of “fuck me… ”

But I’m no longer that person. I’m a strong and confident member of the team; to the point where some people prefer to work with me over others. In eight months I have gotten to the point where I am on par.

Star Lord isn’t there and I don’t think he ever will be. I don’t think he’s cut out for this type of environment. I think a lot of his slowness is from hesitation and insecurity but instead of rising to the challenge he’s shrinking away from it which is why he isn’t getting better.

It means the people he works with have to pull his weight. It means patients are an hour or more late getting on the machine. It means that trickles into all of the other shifts. It means breaks get messed up. It means it’s a rough day when it didn’t need to be one.

That’s what yesterday was. I knew when I saw his name on the schedule it would be like that. I was tapped out before the day had begun and it was going to be a hard, long day.

I think I did well most of the day. I worked as best I could and that’s all I could do. By the time we got to third shift it was the home stretch. No other patients were going to be coming in. There were six CVCs to take care of. That’s a lot, but we got everyone on the machine.

My final patient was having complications. We got the clinical coordinator over to check out her CVC and to clear her for her treatment. I completed her CVC care and got her connected to the machine and dialyzing. Everything was finally settling down. Everyone was on. I could start cleaning up the unused chairs and closing stations down. I could be done with people for a little bit.

Only I couldn’t because five minutes later that same patient wanted to be taken off the machine so she could use the restroom. And it’s not like she could walk on her own. She’s in a wheelchair and wanted me to take her to the restroom. I had to rinse her back, secure her CVC which has been hurting her because two of the stitches are bothering her, so she’s in pain as I’m trying to take care of her, then help transfer into her chair…

It felt like a lot, like too much. I just needed a break from having to do something for someone else. I wanted to go home. I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. I took her to the restroom, went back on the floor to clean until the assistance light started flashing, went back to the restroom to get my patient, got her back on the machine, then went back to cleaning.

I listened to music while making needle packs. I took my final break. I spent about 20 minutes afterward making CVC kits in the stockroom, alone, listening to more music.

We were out of terminations like I knew we would be. We’ll be out of them again by the end of today, but I don’t go back to work until Saturday so it’s someone else’s problem on Friday. According to the log I am the only person who has made CVC kits for the past 14 days of December. That’s pretty shitty and something I will bring up at the meeting on Sunday. We need a better system with the CVC kits because right now ours isn’t working.

I didn’t leave the clinic until around 9 pm last night. I didn’t get home until 9:30. It was a long day. Kyle was in the living room. I didn’t care. I ate dinner in the kitchen. I went upstairs and brushed Scarlet for a while. I took a shower. I fell asleep with my light on.

I woke up at midnight. Everyone was asleep by then. I went downstairs and ate again then fell back asleep on the couch. When I woke up it was light outside. I had a moment of freaking out thinking I had overslept and missed my training session, but it was only 7:40. I had plenty of time.

Today I woke up feeling awake.

I’m not sure how to really describe it or if anyone else has ever had that feeling. I woke up feeling clear-headed and aware. I wasn’t sad or tired. I wasn’t injured feeling. I felt like myself with my own perspectives rather than the fuzziness or fog or weight that I’ve been contending with.

I don’t know if my break down Tuesday has anything to do with this feeling, which I just realized I mentioned it but never explained what happened.

Tuesday didn’t recover from the “can’t pay rent” realization. I didn’t go out and study. I stayed on the couch and slept. For the few hours I wasn’t asleep I watched more of Fate/Stay Night. I hurt. I knew I hurt. I knew there wasn’t going to be anything to make it feel better. I knew I didn’t want to smoke. I knew I couldn’t drink because I’m trying to stay hydrated.

In the evening Kyle came downstairs and asked if he could have the TV when I was done. I was just starting another episode of Fate/Stay Night which I really didn’t want to watch. I knew it wouldn’t make me feel better I just didn’t know what else to do so I had let it start on its own.

I told him I was done. He could have it. I got up and put my dishes in the kitchen. I knew I sounded like I was on the verge of tears because I was. As I was walking by him to get to the stairs Kyle tried to poke my arm. It’s a thing we have, from the Facebook poke feature I guess. We randomly poke each other and say, “Poke”. It’s stupid and I know it is and I couldn’t handle it last night.

He reached out to poke me and I backed away.

Me: I’m sorry. I hurt right now. It’s seven days until my birthday.

It was only three sentences, but it was the first time I verbally told anyone that I hurt. It was the first time admitting my fear even though I didn’t really say it was a fear. I’m scared of my birthday. I don’t want it to come. My throat kept getting tighter as I said those words and even though they were so few by the end I thought I would choke if I had to say more.

I think Kyle tried to say something to me but I was so close to breaking down that I didn’t stay to listen. I jogged up the stairs as fast as I could and bearly closed the door before I started sobbing.

I hate how all of my writings recently seem to come back to this. Me crying. Me talking about mom. Me missing her and obsessing over the fact that she’s dead. I’m sure it’s annoying to read. At what point am I going to get on with my life and stop whining about not having her?

It’s my second birthday without her.

It sucks.

It sucks and I hate this. Even though there’s a lot of really awesome things in my life now like Big Bad and Master and jiujitsu when I’m able to actually get to the dojo and losing 20% body fat and leaving Full Sail, this one thing, this one piece of my life overshadows all of that. Or at least makes it break even to where I’m neutral.

I have all these things. I have all of this confidence in myself.

I don’t have my mom.

I won’t have a phone call from her on the 20th. I won’t have a birthday card. I won’t have an “I love you.”

I knew this time would be the hardest for me, which is why I took the coming week off from work. I only have 20 hours of PTO to cover it. That means my check is going to be short by half.

This is why I have my savings. This is why I’m not going to take care of other people anymore. Because there are still going to be times where I need to take care of myself, like know. Like on April 4th; the two-year mark.

I cried for a really long time Tuesday night and I cried hard and I didn’t care if my roommates could hear my screams through my pillows. I didn’t care if my grief made anyone else uncomfortable because in that moment I was bleeding out on my bed all of the hurt and pain that I have been trying to work with and breath around and hold on to because I have to go to work, I have to donate plasma, or grocery shop, or take care of laundry, or any of the number of life things that I “need” to take care of.

I can’t stop and deal with the pain. I can’t cope with it and slow down and let myself heal the way I need to. I have to keep up with society. I have to keep functioning because you can’t not function in the world we’ve allowed to develop.

Tuesday night I gave zero fucks and I cried all of it into my pillows.

I eventually calmed down. I looked at my phone and had a message from Kyle saying he was sorry. He hasn’t meant to push me.

I said there was nothing to be sorry for. That he had done nothing wrong and that I would get better eventually even though I didn’t have a specific time for when that would happen.

He offered for me to come downstairs and watch the rest of The Incredible Hulk with him since we had watched part of it Sunday night before I had to call it quits to get to sleep on time.

I said I might cry if I came downstairs to which he replied that was ok.

I got up. I showered. I changed into comfy pjs. I took my contacts out and put my glasses on. I dragged my fuzzy blanket with me. It’s not as awesome as Big Bad’s fuzzy blanket, but it’s a decent substitute. I curled up in “my” corner of the couch and we finished watching the movie together.

I wasn’t ready to go to work on Wednesday, not after Tuesday night, but I did it. I survived it and I only have one more day of work to get through before my week off.

And so now I’m at today.

I woke up feeling “with it”. I don’t know how else to explain it.

I trained really well. I know my arms will be sore tomorrow and I’m looking forward to it.

I only have one more training session left with L before I have to buy more. I don’t think I’m going to, though. Right now I can’t justify that much money. But I think that’s ok. On Tuesdays and Thursdays there a 6:30 am jiujitsu class at the dojo. I can go there in the morning before school. I can potentially do boxing/kickboxing during the afternoons. I can definitely get to Title Club on Fridays, which I’ll start having off in January. That also leaves me Sundays which I’ll be able to start working out on again since I won’t be working two 16 hour shifts in a row anymore.

I do have three hours worth of personal training I bought from Title Club during October while they were doing a super awesome deal. I haven’t cashed that in yet because I haven’t had time to, but my instructor knows about my situation and agreed that the new year would work best for him as well. That’s where I’m going to start focusing on footwork and how to move in the ring with an opponent.

So maybe for this first semester of school, it would be good to back off of the personal training with L and to focus on finding a rhythm with the dojo again. It would also be a break financially which could help things righten themselves.

Kyle hasn’t mentioned anything about his old job but I’m pretty sure he should get the background check cleared by the end of this week.

I gave my FA the form he needed to fill out for my certification yesterday. He was supposed to get it back to me but didn’t, so I’m going to text him and see if he could email it to me. That’s another part of what my savings are going to go towards. My company will reimburse me for the certification fee, but I still have to cover it on my own up front. That’s close to $300.

Hooray…. said no one ever.

I do plan to study today after donating, which I’m about to go do after I shower once more.

I feel stronger today then I have in a while. I know I’m going to have dark days ahead of me, some of them in the very near future, so for right now I’m going to enjoy the warmth and clarity that I feel within myself and get as much done as I can. The more I do know the less rough the hard days will be even if I lose sight of that while I’m in them.

Daily Post 060: I’m Proud That I’m Actually Writing A Daily Post

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So I’m going to try to write this… while drinking a drink that I for serious accidentally made too strong. I’m most likely not going to finish it, which is ok because it will still be good tomorrow evening.

Anyway, I have the living room for roughly 30 minutes to myself. 30 minutes of silence and what I’m going to start referring to as pseudo-solitude, since I’m “alone”, but my roommates are still home so I’m really not. Or at last one of them is still home. The other is most likely out banging his chick even though he was short on rent. Not that I have resentment over the fact that he won’t leave the house to do something useful like donate plasma so he can finally get his finances straight, or, I don’t know, take hit contracts on the black market.

This writing may be a bit blunter than normal… damn you alcohol for making me not care about causing offense. Damn you.

So Warren isn’t here, but Kyle is, and I actually just kicked him out of the living room. And by kick out I mean I had anxiety for about 30 minutes since I walked through the door and saw he was in the middle of some B rated demonic movie thing. I dropped my lunch box off on the kitchen counter then went upstairs to shower. Once I had washed the day away, all while trying to figure out how to ask for the living room without sounding like a dick, I came downstairs and put the day’s dishes into the dishwasher, set it to run, then finished washing the crock pot by hand.

I putts around a bit more, heating up my dinner, making my drink, then I finally had nothing else to do to procrastinate further.

I walked into the living room, set my stuff down at my computer and asked Kyle if I could have the living room for 30 minutes before I went to sleep.

He didn’t say anything but turned the TV and Playstation off then went upstairs.

You know what? I really don’t care if he’s upset. I worked a 16 hour day. I agreed to work the first three hours of co-workers shift tomorrow so she could actually get sleep tonight. She’s closing the clinic right now. She might not even be out of work yet and it’s 10 pm. She has an hour drive home, and yet the schedule has her working at 5 am tomorrow morning.

I told her that I could cover some of her hours for her. She said she could be there at 8 am. No later than 8:45 which leaves me with enough time to get to my training session with L. I told her that worked for me. I would rather her be able to make it through her day. I can always take a nap or go to sleep early before my shift on Friday.

This means I should have a few hours of overtime, which will be nice paycheck wise, but also hour wise. It means I’ll more than likely be able to cover most if not all of my week off without having to suffer financially. In theory, I’ll have the PTO to cover it.

So yeah. I have an early wake-up call. I want some time to myself, for myself, before I have to wake up and give the little I’ll have in my reserves to other people. The cool thing is I’ll be out of the clinic before change over happens. So I’ll I really need to do is put the first shift of patients on and do some of the morning chores.

I’m pretty sure I’ll be alright.

Today wasn’t a bad day. Though it started off kind of rough.

There’s one patient who got mad at me last Friday. She wanted to be off the machine at a specific time since her transportation has been leaving without her. I told her we, as in, the whole team, would make sure she got off on time. Normally this isn’t an issue. That morning ended up getting crazy, though, and even though we took this particular patient off the machine early, she still ended up being left by her transportation.

Since I was the tech who took her out into the lobby she blamed me for the transportation leaving her essentially stranded at the clinic. She said we didn’t care about her and that she wanted to talk to the FA.

It hurt. I was almost in tears as I went back to the clinic floor and continued with my day. That was the second time I’ve had a patient be mad at me. I eventually got over it, but I was glad I didn’t have to work Monday so I didn’t have to see her, and I was hoping to be on B side of the clinic today so even though she would be there, I wouldn’t have to interact with her.

As luck would have it, I was on A side, which meant she was one of the patients I had to care for. I helped transfer her into her chair, but another team member did her treatment initiation, which I was grateful for. About 50 minutes into the treatment the charge nurse called EMS for her because of complications. We think she has an infection since she has bedsores which aren’t being cared for.

But yeah, I feel sort of bad for not feeling worse about her going to the hospital. I’ve seen her treat other teammates unkindly. It’s not that I wish ill on her. But I don’t feel bad either. I think I’m closer to feeling nothing which might be worse.

I hope she gets the care she needs and I hope if / when she comes back she isn’t a jerk to me or the people I care about.

That was the main ad hoc event of the day, but since it happened fairly early in the first shift it didn’t domino into second shift.

The day went smoothly after that. I got to watch a teammate mix acid in the water room so I can start helping with that in the future. It seems easy enough. I told my teammate that I would want to see it done one more time, then most likely have someone watch me do it once or twice, but overall I think it’s pretty simple.

I got out of the clinic at 8:30. I’ve started assuming I won’t leave until 9 pm. I find it’s better to overestimate than under. I still budget for 36 hours, but as far as my calendar goes, I would rather assume I have fewer hours to work with rather than more when planning the events in my life. That way I can be pleasantly surprised when I get free time rather than seething with blind fury over having to cancel plans.

So that’s pretty much been my day.

All of the cooking is done, so all I really need to do tomorrow, other than cover the first three hours of first shift, is train, donate plasma, and maybe laundry.

I’m ahead on studying, but it would be good to continue tackling that. I guess it depends on how tired I feel after donating.

Even though there are four chapters left in my book there’s really only two more chapters that pertain directly to me. One of the chapters is about reusing dialyzers, which my clinic doesn’t do. The other chapter is about becoming a preceptor, or trainer, which has nothing to do with the actual dialysis process. I’m still going to read them, though.

Once I finish the book I plan to take the practice test offered by my company. I also want to look online to see if there are flashcards or anything already made. I want to see if my flashcards line up with what other people study for the certification. I usually end up studying more because I make flashcards for random facts that I think are interesting, but not nessiccarily required to know.

Anyway… Yeah. I’m almost done with the book. It would be nice to get through it in the next two-ish weeks. Definitely before the end of the month. That’s completely do-able if I keep up with the chapter a week pace that I’ve been going. That means I’m on course to taking the test early January. Since school starts the 9th, it would be cool to get the certification during the first week of the new year that way it’s done and I won’t have to figure out when to take it between work and my class.

I got my “Me” savings account created yesterday. It was actually super, insanely painless. I walked into my bank and told the greeter that I wanted to see about opening a second savings account. They entered me into the queue, which had no one in it, and asked that I wait in the lobby for one of the representatives to speak with me. I waited all of two minutes. I let them know what I wanted. They created a new savings account for me, and that was that.

Poof.

Done.

Like magic.

I’ve transferred $300 to it already. That’s still $78 short of the 27-week mark, but I think I’ll be able to transfer that through the month. And really, since that’s where I want to be in the first week of January, I have five weeks to come up with it.

I think I’m also going to give myself $500 to spend on myself between my birthday and Christmas. This is money that will go to things like getting my hair bleached since the roots have grown out. Most likely getting it trimmed too, along with my brows waxed because what the hell, it’s my birthday.

Maybe I’ll get a new keyboard finally. And a new headset. I’ll most likely take into account my World of Warcraft renewal, and subtract that from the $500.

I need to sit and budget out what I want to see how far I can make $500 stretch. I’m pretty sure I can do a lot with it, though, and I don’t think I want all that much.

That’s for another day. Right now I’ve finished my “too strong” drink along with my dinner. I’ve also had the living room for close to an hour rather than 30 minutes so I should go. I’ll also only be getting about 4 hours of sleep, which I can work with. It would be better to get only 3, that way I’m not in the middle of a REM cycle when my alarm goes off. God, that’s the worst.

Anyway. Yeah. Good night. Thanks for letting me ramble.

 

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 118: Finding Myself

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I’m at work early because I’m supposed to do grading but I have the urge to write so I’m going to do that first.

 

It’s nice to feel like this. To have the urge to actually type things out and to process through things. It’s nice to not feel a pain inside my chest at the thought of figuring things out. I think a lot of that has to do with my therapy session yesterday. I think a lot of it has to do with recent events and how I’m starting to find things to look forward to. It’s not just a day to day existence anymore.

 

I may not have life goals yet. I haven’t gotten that far in my recovery, but I find myself genuinely smiling at the thought of the future. Things seem to be going well, and even though mom isn’t here to enjoy the forward progress with me, I know that she would be happy for me. She would smile with me and be glad.

 

Tomorrow I’m supposed to be signed off the lease for the apartment. That will be the last massive, ginormous step I have to take as far as the personal side of my life goes. It’s the last step that really requires other people. Past that it will be making sure Zane’s cool with me switching the phone plan over into his name so I can ditch Verizon for MetroPCS again.

 

I’m nervous about it. I don’t think he’s going to be a jerk tomorrow. I think he’s going to be overly sweet and try to get me to hang out. He’s going to try for the “friends” thing, and while I normally do try to maintain a friendship with my exs, this is one instance where I would rather move on. I’m not going to want to hang out. I’m not going to want to chitchat and let him know what’s been going on in my life. I didn’t invite him to my super awesome laser tag going away party for a reason. I want to finalize what I need to and be done with it.

 

I booked a room at an extended stay for the next 28 days. I check in at 3pm today. There’s a mini kitchen and a full sized fridge. I haven’t been there but the pictures look nice. There’s a bed. I seriously cannot put into words how much I am looking forward to having a bed to sleep on. I’m hoping the window lets in a nice amount of light. I’m thinking about taking my computer out of storage and setting it up in the room, space permitting. I’ve already chatted with a few friends. They’re going to let me borrow some of their extra kitchen stuff so I don’t have to go out and buy much of anything. That will be nice. I plan to return it before I leave for Vegas.

 

I want to make stuffed tomatoes for dinner tomorrow. With everything going on today I doubt I’ll be up for cooking or doing much by the time I’m actually able to spend any amount of time at the room.

 

I want to go to the gym after checking in. I need to run by Best Buy first though. The other day I bought a pair of Bluetooth headphones. With all of the kickboxing things I’ve been doing, having wired headphones gets annoying. The wire gets flung into my face or fucks with the motion of my punches. It’s distracting and throws off my groove. So I thought I would give Bluetooth a try.

 

The ones I have are alright… They stay on fine… But they feel sort of weird, and they’re not noise canceling so the sound is different. More airy. And that in itself is distracting. My brain keeps focusing on how it “doesn’t sound right,” even though it’s fine.

 

$100 is a lot to spend to only be “aright” with something. I want to see if any of the other styles / brands work better for me. So yeah, if I get to the gym today Best Buy will most likely happen first.

 

I need to go grocery shopping since I don’t have any coffee creamer. I used the last of it this morning. I’m looking forward to having my morning routine back. Cooking eggs and sitting with my coffee at the table pondering over my day and how to map things out so I’m most efficient. It’s going to be the weekend, so I’m thinking I’ll go to the storage unit and pull out things like my water filter, the computer, maybe go through my clothes again and pull out a few of my nicer tops since V and I want to meet again.

 

I think my date, because that’s what I’m going to call it, went really well the other night. I enjoyed myself. I laughed. I cried. I felt nervous. I felt acceptance. I was asked about the last time I had sex and was able to tell someone that story and begin letting go of those emotions.

 

I explained how I had felt really alone one of the mornings I had to take Zane to work. How we had cuddled in bed for a little bit. Things turned sexual and it was fine until the end.

 

I don’t know what it’s like for other people, but sometimes, when it’s over, I feel empty. Like… my partner has taken something from me, some energy, but hasn’t replaced it with anything else. Nothing has been given back. There wasn’t an exchange or a connection. It leaves me feeling cold, and… well… empty. Something is missing. I don’t feel connected and blissful, and warm, even if I am able to orgasm. There’s something about the interaction that is unfulfilling on an extremely deep and emotional level and it usually leaves me feeling alienated and alone.

 

That’s what it was like after Zane and I had sex the last time. The loneliness I had already been feeling intensified and it took a lot to hold it together. He knew that I wasn’t ok and asked what was wrong. I answered saying that it had felt good, but that I didn’t feel connected to him, I felt used, and I didn’t understand why and that I was sorry for feeling the way I did. Maybe it was just my grief messing up the experiences.

 

His reply was that he had been horny and “basically just needed a cumrag.” He said he knew I had wanted attention and that he took advantage of that.

 

I had been willing to try for friendship even with all of the shit that went down while mom was in the hospital and after her death. I was willing to let go of the betrayal of having another girl in what was supposed to be “our” bed, and accepting the fact that the sheets most likely weren’t washed when we tried cuddling the Saturday night that I got back to Orlando.

 

I was willing to let go of a lot of things because he “wanted to be friends”.

 

My friends don’t treat me like that. That wasn’t friendship. Taking advantage of my need for human interaction and closeness isn’t loving or caring. It’s manipulative. It’s fucked up, and I’m done with it. Point blank, end of story, I’m done.

 

I got to tell V about that experience and how it had made me feel. He didn’t say much about it. He let me cry. He hugged me while I did. He didn’t try to make it better because it’s not like anyone can go back and undo the past.

 

I’m still moving to Vegas. I’m still going to focus on myself. None of my plans have changed, but I’m grateful to V for making me feel like a human. For making me feel like I’m worth respect.

 

So there’s that. It was good to work through those emotions. It makes me feel like Zane doesn’t have power over me. The only way he can make me feel bad is if I let him. He isn’t going to change and I’m tired of being hurt. So it’s done. And as soon as the lease is taken care of I know I’ll feel that much freer from him, with the final cut being the phone plan.

 

Therapy was a lot of about my younger brother. He’s trying to come to Full Sail. Since I’m an alumnus and a staff member (for the moment at least) I can nominate him for a scholarship worth up to $40k. I’m looking into that. Currently waiting on an email from his admissions representative so we can see what needs to happen since Jon is currently over in Germany.

 

I feel stronger today than I have in a while. Still sort of tired and low energy. But strong. Stable. Solid.

 

In therapy the conversation turned to how I am doing so much better than when I first started my sessions. I said that it feels like I’m finding myself again, and for some reason that statement hurt and I started crying. Not sobbing or anything, but there were tears running down my face and I didn’t know why. The statement hurt, but finding myself should be a good thing, right? So why was I crying?

 

I said that moving forward moves me further away from mom’s physical form. To me, the more “ok” I am, the further away from the moment of her death I become. The knee-jerk jump in my thoughts is, the further away I am from that moment, the further away I am from her.

 

I know that’s not true. The further away from that moment I become, the closer to her spiritual presence I become. Our relationship isn’t over, it’s just different. But there is some part of me, some section of my brain that cries out in anguish whenever I think about moving forward. I think about every new accomplishment I want to achieve. Belt testing for taekwondo. Becoming a CNA. Running another Warrior Dash.

 

I think of all of these things and what it would be like to accomplish them and part of me screams in pain because those thoughts are almost instantly followed with the thought of “Mom won’t be there.”

 

That thought feels like having something punched through my chest. It’s not a cut. It’s not a sharp pain. It’s a gaping hole of agony and normally the only thing I can do is vocalize that pain. I scream as loud as I can in my car. I cry. I grip the steering wheel so hard my hands hurt because there’s nothing for me to tear apart or punch or thrash. I scream over and over and over until the pain is finally bearable and my voice is so raw I can’t talk. I scream until it’s finally something I can simply cry over, and then I cry and whimper and sound like a beaten animal because that’s what I feel like. And then… eventually… I’m quiet and exhausted and spent and there’s a stillness inside me. A peace. An acceptance. And normally I go home and sleep. I have nothing left in me to give to anything else after those moments.

 

My mom won’t be there, physically, for any of the achievements in my life. She won’t be there to wrap her arms around me. She won’t be there to do the “I told you so” dance when I do fantastic. She won’t be there to wink at me, or smile, or for her eyes to dance and glitter with happiness for me.

 

Mom will never physically be here ever again.

 

But she’s not gone and I have so many instances to prove that. The one that comes to mind the strongest is the night I slept curled around her urn. I know she was there. I know she was holding me, and even now I can feel her presence behind me like a slight weight on my shoulders.

 

I know that my knee jerk thought of “Mom isn’t here,” isn’t the thought I truly believe. It’s a reactive thought. And for me, it’s an unhealthy thought.

 

So yeah… that’s where I’m at today. I’m finding myself again. In the landscape of my mind I’ve started for find pieces of myself and I’ve started to put them back where they belong. I’m looking at things and questioning if I want to keep them or not. Change them, maybe?

 

What do I want?

 

I still don’t know, but I’m figuring it out and that gives me some sort of resolve I guess. I’ve started doing it, so I know it can be done. It makes me feel like it’s just a matter of time before I’m on my feet again, and knowing that I’m making progress, that my journey isn’t over, makes me feel secure in myself.

 

I’ll make it through this and I’m finally starting to believe those words.