Still Kickin’

I haven’t posted anything in over a month.  Things have been carrying on as about as normal as I can get them to be.  I’m still looking for a job, and with each day that passes, I feel my anxiety build even higher.  I’m getting plenty of “we like your resume, do this task, and then an interview,” but then that’s where everything stops.  I can’t get pass the last round to seal the deal so to speak.  I don’t know if they can sense my desperation, or if they are calling my previous school and getting a not true story.

I’ve basically isolated myself from everyone except my family.  I haven’t heard from any of my old co-workers, who supposedly had my back.  That is what hurts the most.  Feeling like I had a support system, and then come to find out that I really didn’t.

Things are good at home, for the most part.  I keep everyone happy in the house, but there’s no one to help keep me happy.  I’m back to suppressing on a daily basis the emotions that I feel because I can’t show weakness in front of my husband.  I’m beginning to see that I don’t really have anyone in my corner for help.  I truly do feel alone. I feel like that I’m in someone’s life for their own purpose.  I’m a means to an end for people.  I always bend over and help those in end, and I don’t ask for anything in return.  I have an pretty decent example of this.

Every year for Christmas I bake.  I don’t mean I bake a batch of cookies.  I mean I bake batches and batches of cookies.  This year I was asked by husband’s partner if I could teach her to bake.  She was never taught to bake cookies, or candy, or really anything.  I said of course!  Her husband is the one that I had a falling out with, we no longer are sleeping together, but are just friends.  He wanted all the details for when she was coming, so I gave them all, invite him to come down as well.  He said that he was going to be spending time with “Jane” (not her real name).  But this Jane is the one that started to bring forth all the drama that I’ve probably blogged about too many times.  I felt used because he just wanted is wife out of the house and occupied so he could have time with “Jane.”  Then proceeds to send me text messages trying to get information for him about what his wife was doing.  This is how all this shit happened before, so I called him out on it.  Told him it wasn’t fair to use me and put me into that situation.  Our interactions are few and far between these days, and when we do talk, I get “canned” responses not meaningful ones. Now, his wife did come down.  I’ve made 6 batches of cookies in the last 3 days, she hasn’t helped with a single one.  She’s been cuddled up on the sofa with my husband, doing the EXACT things that she is pissed at “Jane” about with her husband.  So I was used as an excuse to come down to learn to bake, but really she just wanted time with my husband.  I could continue but I’m not.

I’m sure some of you are like, why do you let that happen?  Well, it’s a swinging thing and to be honest, I know that this is coming to an end.  We’ve decided to stop come the first of the year.  My husband knows the toil this has put on me with all of the drama that I’ve been dragged into.  I don’t find it fun anymore.  I actually get annoyed 9 times out of 10 when I get a text from someone that wants to hook up.  I’m just not in the mood for it anymore.  I’d rather be home, with my husband, and my son.

I’ve changed a lot this last year, both mentally and physically.  I’ve gone through a major bout of depression with no meds, no support, and struggle each day to continue on.  However, I know I’m not defined by my anxiety.  I know my worth.  I am not the person that most people think I am.  I’ve been beaten down this year.  I’ve fallen more times than I can count, and the victories are rare.  But I live for the victories.  Those small victories is what keeps me going, because I know that I’m going to get mine soon.  I’ve paid my dues in pain, anxiety, and depression.

Until then, I’ll push through with my tears.

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Deceit is Heavy on the Soul

I’m learning that deceit is heavy on the soul.  The longer you let the deceit play out, the more it weighs on you. I came home for the next week.  I wanted, no I needed to see my family.  I’ve been deceitful with them for the last 4 months.  I thought seeing them would help with the situation.  However, its not.  The only thing it’s doing is making me feel worse.  I want to tell them, I really do, but I don’t want to crush my mom.  I don’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes and face when I tell her I’m a failure.  That I lost my job because of a mistake, and someone who back-stabbed me.  I don’t want to hear about how she feels my husband doesn’t take care of me and my son.  So I don’t say anything.  I lie and lie and lie some more about what is actually going on.  I spin the truth to make it less like a lie, but I still know it is.

I’ve cried 4 of the 5 days I’ve been here.  Sunday was particularly bad.  I went with my parents to church.  Let me be frank, it’s not because I went to church that I had a bad day.  I enjoy going to my parent’s church. Their preacher isn’t your typical preacher.  He is more down to earth, more easy going, and doesn’t get too preachy on you during the sermon.  The sermon hit close to home, and things I’ve been working on, being authentic.  What does that mean?  How does one become authentic to themselves WITHOUT worrying about what others think.  That is the bulk of my anxiety.  The perception of other people.  I have modified myself to fit other people’s expectations of me to the point that I don’t know what and who I am anymore.  I’ve made modifications to how I act even around my husband, by not showing how messed up I am currently.  I don’t know who actually knows the real me.  Who would still be around when I show the real me.

I look put together.  I look 100% fine.  I look like I am mentally stable.  But I’m not.  I’m more of a wreck than I let on.  I fight day in and day out with who I am, and who I want to be.  I feel like who I want to be is so far out of reach that I don’t know how to get there.  I keep hoping that once I get a full-time job things will get better, that I will go back to normal, but I don’t think that is a solution, it’s a bandaid.  I need help.  I need help that I don’t know how to get.

The deceit is changing me faster and faster every day.

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Homeward Bound

I’m going home in a few days.  I haven’t been home since last Christmas. My parents don’t know I’m without a job. Time to put my game face on.  Hopefully my poker face is a good one.

I’ve been applying for jobs all the time.  Last time I blogged I mentioned I had a week set up of interviews.  They were all disappointments.  All insurance gigs that wanted me to sell insurance policies to people.  Evidently because I have a background in teaching, I would be good at it, because people would listen and trust me.  I’m sorry, but I’m not all about that.  Telling me I’ll be making 6 figures in a 6 month time frame is a joke.  My mother in law sold insurance and she made less than what I did before I lost my job, and she sold it FOR decades.

I’m excited to get away.  I’m excited to enjoy some crisp fall weather and spend time with my family.  I need a break from this current struggle I’m going through.  I need a check on what’s going on outside of my world of chaos. My mom thinks that I’m arriving on Sunday. Taking my time leaving Saturday and making the drive in two days with my son.  However, we are actually leaving very early Friday morning and making the drive in a day.  My dad knows that I am doing this, but we are going to surprise my mom.  Tomorrow will be a busy day to get everything I need done, but I can do it.

Anxious C

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I want to empty my head…

All these thoughts. All the worry. All the pain. All the guilt. I want to stand on my head and pour them out… I want to let everything go. 

What good is worrying anyway? It accomplishes nothing. So why am I wrought with it? Why does my mind spend hours replaying conversations, days obsessing over interactions and outcomes that I have no control over?

Oh, right. Because I have anxiety. So I know that the irrational parts of me have a cause. Seems like knowing that would make it easier to turn them off… But that’s not how it works. Knowing that it’s because my brain is sick doesn’t make it easier to deal with, and it makes it even harder to understand. 

I’ve been isolating. Only talking to those who text me first and only in regard to whatever they’ve text about… avoiding phone calls… ignoring social media notifications. I know I’m not supposed to isolate – it triggers the depression – but I have nothing to say. All I can think about are the worries. The fears. The what-ifs, and the I-should’ves. I spend a lot of time in tears, unable to articulate exactly why except that I’m overwhelmed. The only person I talk to is my husband, and that’s only because he’s unavoidable but talking to him always starts a fight. He thinks I’m being difficult. I’m sure that it is difficult for him… but I wish he could see how hard it is for me. In here. Stuck in this dark place, all alone. Trapped under the weight of all of my worries, feeling as though suffocating would be a reprieve. 

“I want to empty my head. I want to stand on my head and pour everything out… I want to let it all go.” I just keep repeating it, hoping that something in the universe hears my plea and has mercy on me. I don’t know what else to do. 

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Status Update

I’m not going to lie.  Things have been better.  I’m still without a job, and the hits just keep on coming.

The job I was hoping for, I didn’t get.  I was told that they were impressed with me, loved all of the items that I submitted for the job, but they went with someone else.  I hit rock bottom.  I wasn’t sure where to go.  I wasn’t sure if things would ever get better.  I spent most of last Wednesday in bed, feeling numb.  I couldn’t talk to my husband about it, because he would get into a depression spiral, so I was suppressing.  No, not was, am suppressing.

Things started turning around the other day. I’ve got three job interviews lined up for this week, not in my field, but still three interviews, so I’ll see what they think about I can offer for their companies.  I’ve been shotgunning applications for other jobs within my field, and hoping that something turns up soon.

On a different note, My friend Anxious B is going to start blogging about her journey with anxiety.  We are similar in a lot of ways, but we all know that anxiety is different for each person.  I hope you embrace her and her journey, like you embraced me.

I’m off to my first interview for the week.  Fingers crossed!

Anxious C

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The Hurt is Real

NOTE:  I started writing this, and noticed I started rambling.  It’s probably because I’m emotional, slightly elevated on THC oil and my anti-anxiety night time meds I haven’t taken in a while, because I haven’t felt like I needed it.  This is me saying sorry in advance.

There comes a time when a person has to say, enough is enough.  I thought I was okay with making my trip to see a partner.  I thought I was okay with whatever the situation was going to be. However, I’m not okay.  When patterns exist in our world, it usually points to something being off.  Patterns aren’t supposed to happen consistently.  They are supposed to occur at random.  I’ve noticed a pattern, and it shows me something has to change, or it will keep happening.  Let me explain

July 2016:  I meet this partner for the first time after chatting with him for 2 months, and I get my monthly visitor.  Things go alright, we have fun, but I’m disappointed because of the monthly visitor.

August 2016:  He makes a trip to see me (4 hour drive).  I’m incredibly sick with a UTI and a bladder infection.  I’m not up for much except hanging out. Later it becomes aware I have a much more serious issue, that has to be dealt with forever now.

Sept. 2016: I make a trip to see my partner for my birthday. (4 hour drive) Shit goes down, I’m disappointed about how it went, cry several times on the trip in secrecy, and cry on the way home.

Oct 2016:  I make the trip again for his birthday (4 hr drive).  Again, random stuff goes down. His wife is sick this time.  He has to tend to her needs.  Which, don’t get me wrong is what he should do, but it seems strange the whole sequence of events of her getting “sick”

Dec. 2016:  They come to my husband and I.  We exchange gifts, our kid goes to a friends house for the night.  We enjoy a night seeing a comedian.  During the show, my partner starts not feeling well.  We get back to the house, my husband and the wife leave to go to their hotel room.  Myself and my partner stay at the house.  He’s too sick to do anything.

Feb. 2017: They come to visit again, this time for my husband and son’s birthday.  Things are great.  We have a nice night together in the hotel room. It’s probably one of the better times we’ve been together.

March 2017:  I’m accused of something I didn’t do.  Feel free to read this blog post for context. Although the blog post is April, this post explains everything.

April 2017: Visit to my partner for a few days as spring break.  It doesn’t go well, and I feel that it’s because of said blog post incident. We have a long talk, but I don’t feel better upon leaving.

May – July 2017:  Less and less talking, and when we do talk it’s nothing of importance.

July 2017:  Haven’t seen my partner, all sorts of reasons are given for why we can’t meet up.  I begin to feel like he is holding something back and not being honest. Which leads to a MASSIVE fight between us.  He goes radio silent, I call him out on it, he blames me for shit again etc…

September 2017: He invites me to come to his place.  First time I’ve seen him since April, first time since our big fight.  I’ve seen the wife on several occasions, because she has driven to our house to see my husband. But not my partner. I’m torn on what to do, but I decide to come. That leads to me to where I am now.

Sitting in the dark writing this post on my computer, post crying, post mediating, unable to sleep. You see, I shouldn’t have come.  I knew I would end up disappointed.  I knew I would end up hurt.  But I pushed it aside. I was like, no, we’ve both changed a lot, and grown and have become close again, so i thought.

I knew I shouldn’t have come, the moment I walked in the door and received no hug. 6 months since I’ve seen him, no hug, no touching. The wife, who had literally just left me house the day before gives me a huge hug. Yesterday was spent sitting on the couch, with very little eye contact from him, no touching of any kind. Making it uncomfortable. I did manage to convince him to spar with me, so we did, but that’s not the kind of touching I wanted.  Today, he was better, I got a hug, he made me coffee, presented me with a new band for my FitBit.  We went to the gun range, had a good day.  Still no sexual affection.  I’m clearly in the friend zone now.  I couldn’t get the nerve to ask him with my voice to come sleep in the same bed as me tonight.  This is something we’ve done EVERY TIME we’ve been together.  It felt awkward asking him because of the mixed signals.  So I texted him, as he sat in the chair on the other side of the couch.

Screen Shot 2017-09-21 at 12.37.45 AM

Don’t want to make it awkward?  You’ve already done that.  You’ve invited me to your house, and done everything possible to send me mixed signals.  Did I mention, I sent this text and then 30 minutes later, I say I’m going to bed.  5 minutes later he sends his response.

I contemplated not responding, but that’s not my style.  So you can clearly see my response and I didn’t answer the last text because I’m angry.  I don’t know if I’m more angry with myself for thinking this time would be different, or more angry with him.

Current feelings:

I don’t feel important to anyone in my life right now, husband included because he’s going through a selfish loop within his depression, and now one can see my pain like I can see everyone else’s.

The hurt is real right now.  It’s so real that I took another night time med because I need to sleep and not wake up anxious in the morning, because I have to drive 4 hours home.

But know this, I’m changing this pattern.  I’m not coming back.  I refuse to drive 4 hours for him anymore.  I refuse to allow him to hurt me anymore.  I may sneak out early without saying goodbye, because it won’t fucking matter anyway.

The hurt is real. I’m tired of hurting.

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Feeling Frustrated

Tomorrow is my birthday. And I’m bitter, angry, and frustrated. I’ve been without a job since July 26th. I’m doing my best to keep my shit together and support my family the best way I know how.

I’m tutoring kids and driving for Uber. To most this would sound like a pretty relaxing gig. There’s not a lot of stress involved there, right? Wrong. When Uber brings in only a mere fraction of what I made working for a charter network and my husband isn’t having a lot of luck with his work either, it’s starting to put a strain on things. Major strains in fact.

So far I’ve managed to stay ahead on bills, but the money is starting to run out. Did I mention that my family doesn’t know I’m unemployed, that my previous employer refused unemployment benefits even after they agreed they would pay, we were denied Medicaid benefits, and food stamps. Why am I paying this money into services that when I need them, I’m told no. It doesn’t make any sense. I’m actively trying to find a new job. I have an interview next week for the job I really want, and should know today about another job.

I told my husband last night I felt angry over all this. Of course he got upset with me and said he is doing his best to not get depressed and he can’t have me bringing up shit like that. How am I supposed to vent? How am I supposed to pick myself up when I can’t grieve in a sense? It’s not fair.

My best friend was supposed to come down this weekend, but I told them not to come because of their work schedule. I want to see them. I haven’t seen them in 6 months, but I can’t be selfish and force them to come down and play the “it’s my birthday card.” That’s not in my nature. So I sacrificed what I wanted for them and what they needed. It’s really a typical move for me. I realize that my husband can’t handle any negative stuff, even if I’m just venting to get it out, so it gets bottled back up. I find myself not taking my meds like I should. And reverting back to old ways.

It’s not healthy, and I know this now. The crying urge is a constant feeling these days, but I push pass. Why? Because I don’t have anyone that will support me here. I don’t have a solid ground to stand out. So I make my own solid ground by ignoring what I’m actually feeling and fake it until I make it.

My last day as 33 will be spent like most of my other days in my early adult life, taking care of other people with no one to take care of me.

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