I like Cute Socks and I cannot lie

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These socks are so cute, I love ’em!

I took this photo the other day and I posted it to Instagram and I got so much awesome feedback! I mean, I thought this was a fab look but I had no idea so many people would agree with me *YaY Me*. Anyways, I just wanted to share this picture because I do love it, everything about it.

I got those cute socks at Target when it was in Canada.  Damn do I miss Target. SO MUCH.  I know I could hop online or cross the river (the Niagara/NY border is not far from me at all), but it just is not the same as wondering the store.  Especially with a lovely Starbucks bevvie in hand. Oh lawdy how I loved those trips.  By myself more often then not.  It’s okay, I didn’t mind.  It gave me time to think and a place to go to get out of the house.

Those flats look cute but are not so comfy.  I remember buying them in preparation for a job interview that I got myself last summer.  They were on sale at Payless for $13, I wanted some black flats, they were cheap, I bought them… I got what I paid for.  I need to invest in a better pair because flats are one of my favourite foot fashion staples.  I never did wear these to the interview that they were purchased for, I opted for a more professional shoe and ultimately did not get the job … not because of my shoes… I would hope.  I never did find out why I didn’t get the job either but it still pains me to think about it because I really wanted it.  I will admit that mentally I was and am still not ready to work but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it.  I try sometimes just to see what will happen. Who knows? Could be my next nightmare, could also be my future calling.

The cuffed up denim I have on are a pair of Old Navy jeans that my mother-in-law gave to me.  Oddly enough we are almost the exact same size (which would be small to very small), and these jeans fit me perfectly.  I like to cuff ’em for that vintage rock & roll vibe.

I feel the need to go thrifting.  I keep promising myself I will go as the town I am in has at least 2 if not 3 that I can walk to.  With the weather being so dreary I have been hesitant to go anywhere this week.  I need some thrift-spiration.  I also need to clean out my clothes BIG TIME.  Since we have moved I am realizing how little I wear… let me re-phrase that… I am realizing how much of my clothes I don’t seem to care to wear anymore.  I am playing with the idea of putting some stuff up on eBay or Etsy but until I can actually get to more of my clothes (and purses!) to see what there is and how much there is (or is not), I will just wait, and continue to think about it.

 

 

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Rainy Days, Hair Woes, and missing Mom

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Today was a very rainy Saturday.  It has been cold, wet, and grey. I don’t like it.  This weather just makes me want to curl up in bed, which is exactly what I did today.  Turned out to be a bad idea.

I woke up feeling all sorts of funky.  It happens on occasion, it’s a shame really because I do love naps but this waking up to feeling not-so-fine causes me to avoid naps sometimes because it’s just not worth the risk.  I feel like I may have been dreaming.  I woke up with my mom on my mind.  I should go visit soon, perhaps make use of her bathtub that I enjoy so much, have a cup of tea and a chat.  I feel like I miss her.  She’s not far away and I did not see her long ago.  I just could not shake this funky feeling-aka looming anxiety- so I took an Ativan to calm myself.  I even woke my Love because I felt I needed him awake with me.  He now sits beside me watching the hockey game which is fine, as long as he is beside me in case of emergency-comfort-needing I am good.

Phew. Ativan is kicking in.

I have been thinking too much today.  Thinking too much about the past and who I was and how I got here.  Thinking too much about my life before.  I am not that person any more and I do not miss her, I don’t know why for a moment I felt as though I missed that person.  That person was so down she couldn’t see any light, she self-sabotaged and constantly isolated herself and she thought that she wasn’t worthy of the happiness she so badly wanted to feel.

I have to remind myself of how far I have come.  I am plowing through my EMDR so I should not be surprised if a few episodes pop up here and there but I always am.  It always seems to happen after a period of feeling really put together and whole in myself.  I felt great the last few days-a week and then tonite I just felt like I could fall apart.  I have actually probably been feeling this way since I woke up this morning I have just been trying to ignore it.  Again, turned out to be a bad idea.  After all day of thinking too much it just overwhelmed my brain.

I was feeling as though I am doing nothing, going nowhere, just watching life go by.  I was questioning if all this time and money spent on therapy is worth it? Is this where I want my life to go? Where DO I want my life to go? Even now the answer is the same: I DON’T KNOW.  I have come this far that I can’t stop now so I can only hope and pray that this is the right path for me, that life will work out, and I will feel worthy of everything I want, deserve, and work for.

I got the itch to 2 tone my hair again last week which I am still not sure if that was a conscience or a dissociative thing to do.  It seemed like a BRILLIANT idea last Monday but pretty much since Tuesday I have been regretting my decision.  I did all this work to be all blonde just to f*ck it up in less then 20 minutes.  This too I have been overthinking – am I just trying to revert to a previous self? Did I really want to do this style? Am I looking dated in a way I don’t want to? Am I making myself look harsh? … Again, the answer is I DON’T KNOW. Looking at that photo I took the other day it looks pretty rad and I feel like I like it. Something so mundane as hair colour keeps me lost in thoughts for hours.  Leave it, keep it, change it, color oops it… all these options overwhelm me.  For now, mostly due to my lack of ambition (thanks depression!), I will NOT bother to do a damn thing color-wise for a few weeks yet.  Buys me more time to make my decision and see how this black/purple/blue dye bleeds out… I seem to have had a hair dying addiction for a few years now.  Really, I just want to be back to blonde. I was born a blonde and I love blonde.  I just want blonde.  All these years of red, black, violet, orange, blue and any other color you can think of was just a desperate plea to be blonde.  My mother always told me I looked “cheap” with (white) blonde hair so to keep her happy I would often I would avoid keeping it blonde.  I have got to stop thinking that way. I can do what I want and be whoever I want to be.

I think this scares me, the thought that I can be whoever I want to be.  Quite possibly because I am not quite sure yet who I want to be but I do know that I am on my way there. I have become so used to pleasing someone else before pleasing myself that it feels weird to be fully in charge of myself.  Sometimes I feel like I want to do everything and I can do anything and then I get overwhelmed by all the things I could do and the feeling that time is just slipping away.

I keep feeling the desire to return to school.  To me, going back almost feels like I am REALLY starting over.  School is a place I have always felt safe and enjoyed and it would help me to re-socialize myself and get back into society.  It would also allow me to upgrade my now-outdated skills.  I don’t like the thought of looking for work with outdated skills.  I feel inadequate for the positions that I want to work.  I also so desperately do not want to repeat the last 10-14 years of my life, jumping from crappy job to crappy job just feeling crappier and crappier about myself.  I have been to college a few times before but my old self wasn’t focused on the program(s) I took, I was looking for a distraction from life.  I lied to myself in trying to be someone I wasn’t and it has always blown up in my face.  Lesson learned.  Follow my heart and choose wisely.

I don’t know if I will pursue school or what I will end up doing really.  I don’t feel that I can make that decision today per se, but it is definitely something that is on my mind.

I think I hear my bed calling my name. It is time for me to rest my weary head and hope that tomorrow is a better day.

The Story of Marble

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She came to us on a cold fall Sunday.  We found each other in a way.

My love and I were about to venture out to run some errands, grab some groceries, and visit some people but we had to check our oil in our van.  An oil leak that I was not financially able to repair at the time kept me checking the oil often.  I went back into the house to get something I had forgotten, when I came out the front door and slammed it shut I could hear meowing.  I think…?

I get back to the van and I asked my love “do you hear meowing?”.

I can’t remember wether he said he did or he didn’t because I had already started to look for the source.  Having a house full of cats already I originally thought perhaps someone got out and needed back in.  I followed the sound and kept calling “kitty kitty” fully expecting to find one of ours out there.  Then I saw her.  A tiny calico kitten sitting in between the deck and the pool, wet from the rain, meowing her little face off.  It was not one of ours.  “Crap” I thought.  I do not need a cat right now.

She looked so happy to see people I couldn’t just leave her out in the rain with nothing.  I ran into the house and mixed her up some kitty crunches and cream in a bowl and warmed it up a smidge in the microwave.  I brought it out to her and she was scared so I had to leave it under the deck for her.  As we walked away I could see her lapping up the cream from the bowl.

As we got into the van to leave I felt so bad for this little kitty.  It’s cold and it’s only going to get colder.  It’s raining and miserable out.  I assumed she was a little girl and immediately worried about her being out in the bush alone [there is a large wooded area behind my moms house].  In hindsight I should have grabbed her right then and there and brought her inside but I did not.  I thought it would be some huge deal if I brought yet another cat into the house (my sister re-homed cats and kittens for years and she has a few “leftovers” that she keeps around).

I did not see her when we got home only a few hours later and I worried she was already gone and I was too late.  I could not sleep that night.  I could hear the wind and the rain pelting at my window and my heart ached not knowing where that little kitty could be.

By the next morning I woke to a knock on my bedroom door.  I opened it and there was my sister holding the little kitten.  “Oh little baby!” I exclaimed out of excitement to see her.  She was so tiny and so afraid yet so happy.  She purred and purred.  We fed her, pet her, talked to her, I gave her a soft blankie to lay on.  I knew I wanted her but I tried to bury it.

The original plan was for my other sister to adopt this kitty because she thought she wanted another cat and she has a soft spot for Calicos.  She was supposed to come pick up the cat that week.  I secretly dreaded the day.  Then a week came and went, a month, and upon getting up to 3 months I decided I had to keep her.  I had become too attached and did not want to let her go.  As luck would have it my other sister decided she did not want another cat, I suppose her lack of coming to retrieve said cat was evidence of that all along.

So I got to keep her.  She went a while with no name because I did not want to name her assuming my other sister would do that.  The day we brought her in the house my sister [who caught her for me] suggested the names “Pearl” or “Marble”.  I liked both of these names and in the end took “Marble” because it seemed to suit her.  The name “Marble” was inspired by none other then Jenna Marbles.

She is now happy, healthy, and almost a year old.  She has given me a few scares, I spent more then one morning sitting in the vets office because she had this issue or that issue.  For a while there I was really worried about her but ever since she has gotten fixed she has been great.  She has previously had a few dizzy spells and my [new] vet told me that if she has ONE more to call them immediately because it could mean she is having seizures.  That really scares me but she hasn’t had one in months that I am aware of and since moving in particular she even seems happier.

She is such a little ham.  She cracks me up everyday.  She loves real tuna and sleeping under blankets.  She is still very tiny but she packs a lot of ‘tude in that tiny package.  I am so happy that I found her and that I kept her.  On days when I am literally alone she keeps me company.  She is the best nap partner.  When we first moved and I had a few days of “depression naps” she slept beside me every single time.

She is our baby and I look forward to many years with her.

Marble

Marble | March 26, 2017

 

Too much Bran and other Thoughts

It has now been just over 2 and a half weeks since we have moved.  So far so good – better then I thought actually… Until by the end of week 2 I realized I had not been…as “regular” as I should be.  Being the over-paranoid person that I can be I started thinking the worst and decided I better get me some bran, and perhaps some Activia yogurt.  I figured it was best to cover both bases of good bacteria and fibre.

I ended up deciding to just mix the yogurt and bran buds together which to my pleasant surprise is pretty good and pretty filling.  I literally pour out my ‘lil cup of yogurt into a bowl and add bran buds, mix it up and enjoy! Easy peasy lemon squeezey.

Within 24-48 hours I was feeling the affects of my yogurt-bran concoction and now, a few days later I feel fantastic.  Thanks to my enjoyment of my new little healthy snack I am becoming more regular then I have ever been and I am feeling physically and mentally better.  I might be to a point where if I am not careful I will consume too much bran.  I do not wish to experience what that will do.

Writing about being regular and bran snacks may not seem like much to most but the thing I wish to highlight here is that my stomach has not been the monster I had expected it to be – minus some minor constipation.  Since moving I have had less stomach aches, cramps, and bathroom issues in general.  I find it interesting that moving myself to a more positive and engaging environment is most definitely affecting me physically [and mentally] and in a good way.  This is showing me how negatively I was once effected by the life I had created for myself.  Back in 2008 into 2014-ish my stomach was like a ticking time bomb.  I felt like shit so much I got used to just feeling like shit.  When I was working I would watch what I ate around my shifts so as to make sure I would not have any problems during my shift.  I’d not eat instead of risking feeling sick- or I would have no appetite at all because I would be so stressed.  There was a time that I would get so anxious before going into work I would have to throw up before every shift.  Every.  Shift.

I can now see so clearly how my life was effecting how I was feeling physically.  I hated my job, my living situation, hec I think I must have hated myself to let myself continue to be miserable for so long.  At 25/26/27 years old I felt so stuck, I felt like life was beating me down, that “this” is all that there was for me.  I could not have been more wrong.  At 33 I feel like I am getting a new life.  It has been a long journey to get here and there is still more to hike but I am so grateful that I am on this journey and that somewhere I did love myself enough to decide to change my life.  Watching my Dads health fade away so fast at such a young age made me realize how short (and sad) life can be.  I decided right then and there that I wanted to change my life and pursue my ultimate best-self.  Before he died I was only living half a life and I was lying to myself about what I wanted and who I was.

Now, almost 4 years later and thousands of dollars in therapy, I am finally starting to feel like my whole -self is coming together.

 

First week here

I have made it.  Made it through the first week of being in a new place.  It has it’s pros and cons, mostly pros, but it is still a battle for me.  During the day I feel fine, content, a little lonely and a little lost but ok.  At night I have a hard time.  Last night I completely broke down and cried.  I am not unhappy here, it’s just different.  I need time to adjust.

I like being in/closer to town.  A few days ago my brother-in-law and I walked to a few places.  It was so windy I almost tripped over my own feet but I was so happy to be out and walking.  Freezing no less, but walking.  Our main purpose for walking to town was to get chocolate.  We both need our chocolate.  I also bought a Marc Ecko “cut & sew” pullover sweater, 100% Wool, for $10.00 at a local discount store.  It’s a men’s medium and fits a little large but I love it.  We came home to eat our chocolate and make tea.

My kitten, Marble, is adjusting pretty well.  She was sick yesterday a few times which immediately had me in tears and worried but by late afternoon she was totally fine and has been since.  I don’t know what cause her to be sick, her food is the same, her water is the same, same dishes, she has not gotten into anything… I don’t know and I am going to try not to over worry about her which I am all too good at. Today she has been running all over the house, she has seen her first bathroom and kitchen.  She sat and watched me do dishes this morning.  Such a cutie.  She helps keep me occupied and she is great company.

I am doing my first load of laundry here tonite.  I feel good to be getting on with laundry life.  I have had a nice hot shower with Sienfeld-like pressure.  It still blows me away every time I get in it. It’s kind of fun.  I did some dishes and tidying while my mother-in-law was out, I figured it was the least I could do.  I feel good this evening, granted it is Friday and I did take an Ativan earlier because I did not wish to repeat last night.

I was fine all day yesterday, at least I think I was fine.  I was longing for the weekend and definitely stressing about my Marble all day and I guess by 10pm I finally cracked.  Today I opted to try to keep myself busy and I have even decided that I want to re-arrange our new room already. I love a good re-arrange and re-organize.

I also really love our new little room.  It is much smaller then the one I had at my moms but it is cozy.  We have opted to put our mattress on the floor instead of taking up extra room with my antique 4-poster bed frame-plus in time of anxiety I like to lay on and sleep on the floor so just slapping the mattress down seemed like a good idea.  So far, so good, I quite like it.  I even have all the comforts I have gotten used to having, a small space heater and my heating blanket (this house is old and though very solid is limited on heat vents, this room of ours in particular does not have one).  With the door open during the day it heats up in here pretty fast but if I want the door closed it can get a little chilly.  Nothing compared to the chill of the basement though.  I love living above ground.  I was so sick of living in the basement, it was kind of depressing [for me].  We have 2 beautiful windows in our room that both myself and my cat enjoy.

I am learning what I actually need and use.  I don’t know where half my stuff is right now- I mean I know ALL of it is right above me in storage- but I don’t know where to begin to start looking for this and that.  Last weekend when we were moving I was so in a tizzy to just get outta my old house by the end I was just grabbing shit and putting it wherever.  I hope tomorrow to be a very good find-and-organize day.

Looking back at the week I feel that I will be ok.  I still need time to adjust and I need to take my time and I need to remind myself that it is ok.  My love is so supportive and has been since day 1, one of the many reasons I love him so.  I feel like as long as we are together and have each others love that I, we, will be ok- not just ok, FABULOUS.  I don’t praise him enough and he certainly deserves it.  He rubs my back when I cry because I am sad for no explainable -or at least cry able – reason.  He checks in often to make sure that I am ok and when he does he looks at me with such a look of genuine caring concern, it makes my heart skip a beat every time and it reminds me why I am doing this.  I mean aside from the fact that I am in my thirties and IT IS TIME for me to leave the nest… I need to do this for him, and us.  He stayed by my side no questions asked and no judgements ever and now I will stay by his.  I will be the best me I can be [if not for me] for him.  We made this move for me, so I could feel more relaxed and less sad, lonely, and frustrated.  And I am happy to report that I am feeling more relaxed, less sad, lonely, and frustrated which is an amazing feeling.  Sadly it is such a new feeling that I am not sure what to do with it yet.

The weather has been crazy this week.  From pouring rain to insane winds to snapping cold with flurries, literally every day has been different… I just wanted to log that for memories sake.

Well, my computer is dying and my eyes are getting heavy so off to bed I toddle, looking forward to Saturday, and Saturday morning snuggles with my love of course ❤

Last Day Here

It is officially my last full day here.  By this time tomorrow [the rest of] the move will surely be underway. I am both excited and nervous for this new chapter of my life.  A month ago I did not know that I would be leaving yet here I am.

Most of my clothes are packed away.  Upon packing said clothes I realized I hate most of them and wish to slowly start upgrading my wardrobe.  Not all, just some.  Too many items remind me of the person I was and of certain feelings I may have had when I wore this item or that one.  For example, I have a long sleeved knit white tunic from Walmart that I have owned and worn for over 10 years now.  It used to be my go-to “going out” or “date” sweater.  It now looks more beige then white and whenever I wear it I can’t help but remember that time I had an anxiety attack whilst en route to the Mandarin.  Got there only to NOT EAT ANYTHING. I just silently panicked at the table while insisting the party I was with “please enjoy themselves”.

I have a Barbie sweatshirt that is baby pink and I love it but every time I touch it I recall how I ordered it right before going to Cuba in 2013.  A trip that I recall as a shit ton of panicking, throwing up and just wanting to go home.  In trying to move on with life and continue to improve myself I feel as though I don’t want these cloth reminders of memories.  As of this moment these items are packed away but as I unpack I plan on donating a lot.

I am feeling better about this whole thing [this morning] then I thought that I would.  I have only had to take 1 ativan so far this week and I will allow myself 1 for tonite and possibly 1 for tomorrow because I just know now that I will not be sleeping and good grief I cannot let anxiety get in my way.  It has gotten in the way of my life enough already and has led to me where I am at this current moment.  I’m not in a bad situation per se but I am not where I wanted to be.

I am not working and I am on social assistance.  Something I was advised to do by both my Doctor and my Therapist a few years back.  At this point in time I am trying to focus on completing EMDR and healing myself without the extra stress of working or trying to work.  Also after 10+ years of shitty jobs, shitty hours, shitty pay, working multiple jobs and still not getting ahead, I was mentally and physically exhausted.  I have worked so many places my resume should be a novella.

I have no idea what the future holds for me, and us but I can only hope and pray that is is a good one.  I have had enough bad things happen in my life, it is time for some good stuff.  I know that this move is a step in the right direction and I am so looking forward to being the person that I am supposed to be.  It has been a long time since I started a new chapter, perhaps a little too long.

So, here we are, last day of this chapter, last day in this room, last day in this house.  It’s bittersweet.  Part of me can’t wait to shut the door tomorrow afternoon and the other part of me wants to hold on for dear life… then there’s another part screaming “just defrost your fridge already!!!”.

 

DEEP BREATH.

… The fridge is waiting.  Along with your new life.

I am freaking out.

My poor boyfriend ought to come into our room at any moment to find me sobbing like a baby.  I can’t hold it in any longer today.  I am trying not to freak out but I think I am freaking out.

I first showed up in my therapists office about 5 years ago now, claiming that I am “just naturally thin” and that “my mom is my best friend”.  Both of those lines were slightly blurred.  I had managed to finally arrive in that office, in search of EMDR Therapy, because my mother had told me I needed to.  That I needed to get this therapy and to “hurry up and try it” so that “maybe” she “could try it too”.  Well, here we are 5-ish years later and I am still working on my EMDR whilst my mother will most likely never try it because “it takes too long” and she can’t seem to decide wether or not she needs therapy.

I am not one to tell anyone that they need therapy, that is something you need to decide for yourself and I have always said that if you can live with life and your mental health is not bothering you enough to seek out help then you are probably fine without out it.  But my mother could use a session or 2.

I miss my father immensely, I wish I could just speak with him, I look at his photo and it makes me cry harder.  I wish he was here to give me one of his famous hugs and to tell me not to worry about my mother.  He was always very observant and empathetic, something I am realizing my mother is not.  He noticed when my 7 year old self was not doing well and he tried to get me out.  He noticed when I was losing weight in high school and he knew it was more then just shedding some puberty-weight.  He always reassured me that he loves me and I knew I was wanted.  He encouraged me and allowed me to be myself.

My mother not so much.  She has controlled so much in my life that now that I am leaving I am terrified.  I don’t know how to be myself anymore for fear of being not taken seriously  or perhaps even lectured on life.  I can’t tell her how I really feel for fear of being gaslighted.  Something my mother is very good at.

This is what hurts the most.  Feeling as though I can’t even tell her how I am feeling about the events of the past month/year.  I am so angry that I have been working so hard to do EMDR therapy and I am in the thick of it now, and now is when I am being forced to move. The EMDR therapy I “had to get” because of traumas that she helped create.

I know that it is best for me to go.  It is time for me to go.  I should have gone a long time ago.  Perhaps I am angry with myself.  I allowed myself to end up in this position.  I am sad that I am not yet the person I am supposed to be.  I let myself down too many times and this is my consequence.  I listened to someone who did not know what they were talking about and I dismissed my needs and wants in exchange for pleasing someone else.

* * * 12 HOURS LATER * * * 

I need to remind myself that this move is the start of my new and improved life.  I thank my lucky stars that I found someone that shines light into my life, sees me for me, and loves me unconditionally.  I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like without him.  When he first came along a few years ago I promised myself I would stop making decisions based on my mother.  He was one of my first decisions and it has been the best one I have made in a long time.  We decided to move together and I am committed to moving with him.  I am also committed to finding myself and learning to love life again.   I know that this is a step I need to take in order to find my happiness.  I should be excited, not terrified.  I have found something that I never thought I would, love and acceptance.  I need to focus more on the love and acceptance part and try to let the fear go.

PHEW. A few moments of mulling that [last] thought over and I am feeling a little less teary.  WHOA. This post is kind of all over the place but I am posting it anyways because I took the time to write some things that I would like to remember.

After feeling anxious and crying last night and then having a repeat this morning I am tired.  At the same time I don’t want to sleep, I want to work towards my new and improved life.

Maybe I will pack some more stuff.