Trying to turn it off...

So much on my mind...so many things I'm thinking about...I wish I could just turn it all off for a little while.

How am I supposed to get any sleep when I can't stop thinking?

I just went and made a big mistake.

Without really thinking how this was going to make me feel, I found out how my ex proposed to his current gf.

Why the fuck would I have gone there?  

And to be clear, I know if it had been me, he'd be fucking around on me the same way he's tried to fuck around on her WITH me. But still, it was information I didn't want or need...and now I can't not know it.

Sometimes you forget that people remember...

So this weekend I came upon someone from my past.

And sometimes you don't realize that you had an impact on people the same way they did on you.

I didn't see him, but he thought he saw me...and so like we do, he Facebook messaged me..."Are you here?"

I didn't see it until he was gone, but we talked back and forth a little bit and it was nice.

It was nice to be remembered. And more than that, it was nice TO remember. A lot of my life has been craziness, I'll admit...but when you can step away and look back fondly, that's a great feeling.

Sad but true...

The nicest thing Stewart ever did for me, he did after we broke up.

Perhaps if he'd tried that hard when we were together, I wouldn't have broken up with him.

Either way, I have 2 iPads now...one for each hand, lol.

And in other unrelated better news:

Cory bought his tickets for LA and Dallas yesterday. Our whirlwind birthday trip cause we want to/wedding trip cause we have to is on.

We are beside ourselves with excitement!!!

My mom will be here in about 4 days...

Hanson concert Tuesday...

Mickey's Not So Scary Friday...

Halloween...

The Script concert...

Counting Crows concert...

My birthday (Avengers cake...hint hint hint!)...

And then, the big, amazing trip...

Nothing to complain about.

:)

I made a decision a week or so ago. I am taking myself to California for my birthday.

Cory and I are going to go to Disneyland and ride the Haunted Mansion and Pirates...go to Cars Land...eat soft pretzels shaped like Mickey Mouse. Maybe I'll buy some ears and wear them all day long.

Then we'll do some sightseeing in LA and eat somewhere fabulous and do some more fabulous things and toast me turning 23 (again).

Right in this moment...I am absolutely, positively, heartbreakingly certain that I made the right decision.

Every single solitary penny that that trip costs is going to have been worth it because I fucking deserve it.

Sometimes, someone twists a knife you didn't even realize was still there.

Awkward. Really awkward.

Life is funny...and disturbing.

Seriously.

What is it about me and all the wrong men at all the wrong times?

Last night, I finally started telling the mutual friends I have with Stewart that we'd broken up. I talked to Mackenzie about it for awhile.  And then an hour or so later, I get an fb message from her husband that says, "What happened?"

I gave him the short order story, so as not to make Stewart-his friend and colleague- sound like the total douche that he is.

And somehow, that transitioned to "Stewart is an idiot...I wish I had a chance with you. Things would have been different.". And then further into how he is unhappy in his marriage, do I think he's attractive...oh my god, what the fuck is happening here?

Is Luke adorable? Sure.
And he's 21.
Oh, and he's married to my friend.

All kinds of wrong wrapped up in this.

I mean, its flattering, I won't lie. But come on, universe...throw me a bone here. This is crazy. And I don't want to be out in any more uncomfortable of a position.

Usually I just seem to have random dreams, no real significant theme that I can remember.

The last week or so though, I've had a few nights of dreams where a theme or symbol is evident.


Last night I dreamt of a tornado. I was in a school, you know with long corridors and lots of glass. Memphis was there and was in my room, which was at the opposite end of where I was. I ran to get her, and ran back to the hallway. There were tons of people. I also had a baby I responsible for. She wasn't mine, but she was somehow related to me. We all ended up safe in the end.

The dream journal says this could represent quick change, a journey, a moving forward or upward in my life...especially if I survived the tornado and the dream ended positively. It did, so I'm taking that as a good sign.


My mom is coming down to visit me in another week, which is also awesome. Sometimes you just need your mom. Doesn't matter how old you are. I am looking forward to a nice week of fun and making memories. I sound like a Hallmark commercial.

It's Friday, and I have a bunch of weekend plans, and I'll be super happy when the weekend actually starts after work today. Today is going to be a bit of a challenge...7 kids myself. I hope she doesn't think much else is getting done, lol.

Other than that, woohoo, look at me...made it through another week :)
One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other, and all is well.

Tiny victories

Today has been a good day.

First and foremost, the man that killed my friend Damien was apprehended. That doesn't bring him back...but it brings some peace to the people that cared about him. I know you are singing in heaven, Damien. I know you are happy.

Second, I took another step forward in my quest for inner peace. I made a compromise I could live with out of this wedding situation. The bride is pissed off. I'm relieved. I'm doing what I can personally handle. That's all I can do and all anyone can ask of me.

Third, I'm giving myself a lovely, amazing birthday present, because I deserve it...and that makes me really happy!

Does this make me a horrible person?

I'm supposed to be in this wedding.

I'm the MOH.

When I think about it, I am consumed with the burning hatred of a thousand suns.

I desperately...and I mean desperately, do not want to go.

My first reasons are maybe superficial, but nonetheless valid. Last year for her birthday I sent flowers and perfume. She asked me 75 times what I wanted...and then didn't even send a fucking card. That just pisses me off. I didn't need flowers and perfume, but for fucks sake, at least a card. And it is worse when you make a big deal about sending something and then never do.  What does that tell you about the one sidedness of our friendship?

Second, the wedding is 3 fucking days after my birthday. I don't WANT to spend my birthday making favors or any other last minute wedding bullshit. I'd like to spend it with tequila shots, an Avengers cake, and thinking about a trip I actually WANT to take. Her fiance's bday is 2 days after mine. And she just sent out a rehearsal dinner invite that says rehearsal dinner/ bday celebration. That pisses me the fuck off. Petty? Maybe. But it's just rude. It's MY fucking birthday too. This is the first one in about 14 years I've been allowed to actually enjoy...and this is fucking it up.

Third, it's bleeding me of money that I don't have...and even if I did, this is the last thing I want to spend it on. Because I know that my time and effort will never ever be reciprocated. I'm tired of doing one sided relationships, friends or otherwise.

Fourth, I just broke up with a douche tool that I thought I was going to marry. Do you think I have any desire whatsoever to go to a wedding right now? Especially one where, knowing her so well, she will miss no opportunity to make backhanded comments that are designed to look sweet and sincere and end up making me feel worse.

Fifth, she is bound and determined to take my life down into the Texas shitter with her by attempting to fix me up with every single redneck she knows. One even admitted to me that his objective, per her instructions, was to "get you to move to Texas." I do not wish to be the booby prize for every single guy there. I do not wish to move to Texas. I especially do not wish to sleep with anyone she fixes me up with because despite having known me for damn near 30 years, she STILL ignores my type to push guys on me that fit her agenda. That's fucked up and annoying.

I don't want to go. I DO NOT WANT TO GO. At all.

And I can't think of any good excuse or reason to get out of it except that I just plain don't want to be there and don't care.

At some point I have to take care of myself. Going to this shitshow is NOT the way to do that.

Hmmm...

When you hit this epiphany...like I did the other day, it's strange.

Like I said, I'm ok. I don't need to be fixed. I AM OK.

And now it's like a mantra. And it's really making me want to take care of myself.

If I don't want to do something, I don't and I won't.

It's making me not care about anyone else. Maybe that's good. Maybe it's not.

Yeah.

A long time ago, I became an expert at self-preservation. I mean, I can take a fucking lot...and I have, but at some point, you tell yourself, ok cowgirl, that's enough, we're shutting down this shit show now.

When all the shit happened with shewhoshallnotbenamed more than 10 years ago, that happened. One day I was done with caring, done with crying, done with feeling pretty much anything. I woke up, I went through the motions, and put one foot in front of the other. And that's what I concentrated on...one foot in front of the other, keep going forward, and eventually, you're going to get there. "There" being back to who you were before the shut down.  And you know what, it took me a REALLY LONG TIME to get there. Years. Years.

Part of the true catalyst for really healing was finally stepping out of the entire life that she had been a part of. Because being involved with her brother was toxic. Walking into his house on Christmas morning and having to face her was toxic. Even though I knew I'd spent far more time there than she had....even though I knew he disliked her pretty damn near as much as I did, she was STILL his sister and he played at keeping the peace because he probably also feared her wrath as much as I did. I loved him, so I had to try. I love him still, but as a fond part of my past. The healthiest thing I ever did for myself was walking away.

And I was feeling again, in a way I hadn't allowed myself to do in years. That 2011 summer of asshole...it SUCKED. But you know what? I cried. A lot. I felt bad. Horrible, actually, and I learned to lean on friends I hadn't been able to lean on before. As awful as it was, it meant that I'd gotten through all that other bullshit, finally-FINALLY. I felt again, and let myself feel. And I learned that sometimes people hurt you and you need to step the fuck away from those people. I have a hard time doing that.

Actually, let me clarify. I realize I have an almost impossible time stepping away from people in my life that REALLY TRULY deserve it. The more fucked up you treat me, the harder I'm going to try to change that, the more I'm going to do for you. The people I have an easier time stepping away from are the ones that maybe DON'T deserve to be written off so quickly. And I think that's because those are the people I trust to have my back implicitly. I don't worry about them hurting me because I never imagine its in them to do it. And when they sometimes do...it's like getting the wind knocked out of you. Oh, well fuck, I see, I can't count on you either. You can literally punch me, kick me, bite me, pull out my hair and I'll keep coming back for more. You disappoint me and I can't even look you in the eye.

The past few weeks have been a full on fucking roller coaster. I broke up with Stewart, and yet continue to deal with him and his refusal to acknowledge that our relationship is finished. I had an amazing vacation in NYC, and yet it opened my eyes to the opportunities I'd given up in deference to other people's ideas of what my life ought to be like. My friend died a sad, horrible, senseless, violent death...and in addition to the emotions of losing him, I was put squarely back into the middle of the very life I fought my way out of so hard. I had to deal with deciding whether or not I was emotionally ready to face those people at his funeral, and what good would come out of it if I did. I had to decide to put myself first. And, I took a 36 hour trip to Dallas that I absolutely didn't want to keep secret...wanted to fucking shout to everyone about because I was excited, but had to keep it under wraps for a whole host of reasons, both mine and my travel buddy's. I had to deal with mourning the loss of the future I was expecting to have with Stewart. That wedding I was thinking I was going to have...the wedding he TOLD me we were going to have...yeah, clearly not happening. That baby I was expecting to be pregnant with by the end of this year...that I was expecting to be buying presents from Santa for by next...also clearly not happening.  Oh, and my math class, because to be clear, that's a whole other bag of stress. It's a lot.

And so when I walked in the house on Sunday, having slept maybe 5 hours combined since Thursday night, hungover, just off a flight from Texas...I was in no mood or position to do really anything but sleep. And instead,  I got myself into a position where I felt that ok, we are shutting down this shit show mentality set in, and I did. I cried half Sunday night, half Monday morning, and then I shut the fuck down. Dead eyes. No interest in talking to anyone. Feeling fucking judged and robbed of the one god damn thing that was making me feel any sort of better. The only thing I was feeling was FURY.
And the desire to just be left alone.

I had a date last night and I forced myself to go on it. I'm glad I did, because it was nice. He was nice. He says we will have dinner again. We'll see. I have no expectations anymore, but I enjoyed his company and he's adorable.

More importantly, it reinforces what I told everyone I spoke to on Monday. Stop trying to fix me. I KNOW what my issues are. You can listen. You can advise. But you can't demand. You can't expect. You can't force my transformations onto your timeline. And if I continue to do whatever it is you think I ought to change, well you know what? It's my life. I'm 35. I've gotten this far, pretty damn much on my own, so I think I'm good.

I triumphed over an eating disorder, and I LIKE myself the way I am, mostly ;),
I got out of some shitty relationships.
I'm trying to be less of a doormat.
I'm ok, with all my quirks, just the way I am.
I do not need to change for anyone, nor do I need to change anything about me.
I love diet coke, and dolls, and celebrities, and watching the same movie 4 times in a row, and Harry Potter, and being spontaneous, and my dog sleeps in my bed, and if I love you I will do anything for you and probably more than I should, I love Peter Pan and I'm like Peter Pan, and I love Debbie Gibson, and boy bands, and movies like Cool As Ice and Spice World, and I never go in a store and skip the toy department, and I can eat ice cream for every meal and sometimes I do, and I ran a marathon just so I could do something my brother never did, and my car is always a mess, and my room is usually a mess, and I hate things I have to do like going to the bank or getting an oil change, and I can go to Disney every day, and I'm not afraid of flying, or traveling alone, or going to places I've never been,or having adventures, or going to the movies by myself, in fact sometimes travelling alone or going to the movies alone is better than being with someone, and I hate popcorn and onions, and mushrooms and celery and mustard and hot dogs and Pepsi and Mexican food and sandwiches unless I make them, and roller coasters if they have big drops, and I take the cheese off pizza and I eat fries with a fork because I hate how grease feels on my fingers, and I write fanfic and I have for years and read it too, and I love to cook but hate to bake, and Halloween is my favorite holiday and I will never not want a party for my birthday and I will never not want a cake that has plastic toys on it that I can have once the cake is finished, and I hate beer and wine but love tequila, and I'd wear Ugg boots everyday of my life if I could 98* or not, and I'd rather wear a dress or sweats than anything else, I hate wearing socks.

Those are all things about me. Some are normal, some maybe not so normal. But that's means I'm not fucking changing for ANYONE. Take me or leave me...but either way, you have no choice but to accept me, because I'm OK.

Strange love

Things that are funny: discussing baby names with someone you aren't in a relationship with...but never with the man you were. And for the record... We agree.