Tag: lost

June 12, 2017

It is finally hot.

I already have sunburn in some places.  I actually have a really funny chest-tan line going on, I thought it would be a good idea to wear a strapless bikini top for optimal shoulder-tanning.  Unknown to me it was a little off-centre and now I have a funny, crooked line right above my boobs.  Luckily I did put on sunscreen but I was lazy with the re-application-aside from my face- and now I suffer the consequence.

I got a little confident last week and actually applied for a job.  A job I really want, with a company I love and actually have worked for before in the past.  I actually got a response back within a few days and I was hoping to hear about an interview as early as this week.  I felt really good about myself, life, and the future when I thought I was on track to getting the job.  Now it has been a few days since I have heard anything and thought I keep telling myself “it is only Monday”, I can’t help but worry that either I or my resume or BOTH are off-putting.  This is probably not the case but I tend to jump to conclusions surrounding my insecurities pretty quickly.  I also really really really want this job.  It sounds like it could potentially be my dream job.  Not to mention the doors it would open for me if I did and could get back to working again.  I need to make money.  I need things.  I need to be able to provide for myself and currently I can’t say as though I am able to do that.

I want a newer car.  I never wanted to drive a van but I have been and I am making the best out of it but thinking of driving it through another [Canadian] Winter makes me cringe.  I desperately want us to get an apartment.  I don’t feel as though I will feel fully comfortable and at-home until I/we can get into our own place.  I need my own kitchen, bathroom, living room and I want the control that paying for your own place brings.  I crave the independence and the freedom.  I worry that if I cannot find gainful employment that things could get really bad for me [mentally] in the next 6-12 months.

I have been feeling the desire to go home on and off for a few months now.  I was fine the first month, perhaps it was the high of moving that got me through that first month because in the months following I have become more and more depressed.  I find myself napping to escape the tears.  I miss my mom.  She drives me nuts sometimes but I miss her company, humour, and conversation.  I miss that feeling of being home.  If I think about it too much it makes me cry.

I actually have gone as far as to move a few things back over to my moms house with the intent of potentially staying there in the future.  If the anxiety gets really bad I may need to go back for awhile.  Heck, even without the anxiety I might need to go back.  I am getting tired.  Tired of feeling invisible and lonely.  Tired of days filled with nothing and nights filled hoping to avoid anxiety or sadness.  I feel like I was once first on the list and now I feel like I am almost last.  I am grateful for my cat, Marble, because she is such a sweet baby.  She stays with me when I can’t get out of bed, she makes me laugh at times when I didn’t know I could, she listens and never judges.

I have Therapy tomorrow.  I am kind of glad for that because I need to talk to someone, who better then my therapist? As always I am promising myself a Starbucks treat but so far I have not stopped since before Christmas, I remember because I have gift cards FROM CHRISTMAS that I still have not used.  Let’s see if tomorrow is any different then the last couple of months…

I also have my Nano Brow appointment this week.  I am pretty excited about it and I really hope to vlog it for my YouTube Channel.  From what I have read there are only 10 locations in Canada that do Nano Brows and my Eyebrow girl is one of those 10.  Nano Brow is more like a tattoo then the Microblading, the ink is deposited deeper under the skin than it is with Microblading and it is said to last up to 5 years.  Yes please.

What takes away from my excitement is the drive to get there.  It’s worth the drive but it does take me over an hour to get there, over 2 hours round trip.  Not my most favourite of commutes but I have done it many times now, I know I will be fine, and I will be so happy when I leave I won’t even care about the drive.

I look forward to Friday.  Therapy will be done [till my next appointment], my new brows will be healing, perhaps I will have heard some word regarding that job I really want.  I have even promised myself a big treat such as a new haircut if I am lucky enough to snag an interview.

Who knows.  I sure don’t.  I can only hope, and try to think positive thoughts.  Breathe.  I will be okay.

April 25, 2016

I had to take another Ativan tonight.  I just could not shake the looming feeling that anxiety was coming.

I am frustrated.  I am frustrated with myself and my “new” environment.  I am doubting myself again.  I feel lonely a lot, even when there are people around.  Could be a little dissociation problem, could be something else that I don’t want to deal with right now.

In attempts to clear my head earlier today I went to Shoppers Drug Mart.  I needed Q-tips and I wanted to spend some time with me doing what me likes.  I walked up and down my favourite aisles- cosmetics, skin care, hair care, and chocolate – and I just enjoyed being with myself.  I miss that.  Taking myself out just to take some time to be with me.  I decided to treat myself to some new shampoo and conditioner.  After price and scent comparisons, ultimately I chose Garnier’s [somewhat] new line of Whole Blends.  It was on sale for $4.99 CDN (each, on sale) and the “Honey Treasures” smelled so AH-MAH-ZiNG I had to have it in my life.  SO.  GOOD.

whole blends 1

I remembered I wanted that Ralph Lauren perfume that was on sale but upon smelling it for the first time in ohhhh 15 years, I swiftly changed my mind.  It took me right back to high school, back to a place where I did not feel safe, back to a place that I don’t like to think about.  It reminded me of my youth in a really really bad way.  I am so glad I didn’t get purchase-happy and just buy it for nostalgia purposes, I would have never wanted to wear it.

The Cosmetician on shift asked me if I needed any assistance and I politely smiled and said “no thanks, just checking out the sales”. Pffft.  That was a mistake.  She began telling me about how there are some lipsticks and mascaras on sale – neither of which I was shopping for nor do I need – but not wanting to be rude I listened [kind of] of then tried to politely exit said convo.  I was feeling particularly awkward as I was engaged in me-mode and was not looking to talk to anyone.  No offence intended to her of course, she was just doing her job. And I was just feeling like quietly browsing.  It’s therapeutic in a way.  I need to wear a sign – SHY INTROVERT SHOPPING. I’M GOOD THANKS! GO AWAY.

I made my way down the skincare aisle and I noticed, to my delight, that Neutrogena products were on sale. Score! That Benzoyl Peroxide Cleanser I have been eyeing for a few weeks was finally on sale! Though I have not had bad acne since my stint with Accutane a good decade ago now, I am still paranoid of breakouts and still get the odd little problem crop up.  So, I like to keep at least one acne-wash on hand at all times.  I have been wanting the Pro-Active face cleanser for ages but I only want to cleanser, I don’t want all the other things it comes with.  I like Pro-Active because it is one of the few products that use Benzoyl Peroxide which, for me, has always worked better then the usual Salicylic Acid products.  This Neutrogena “Rapid Clear”, ahem, “Paste” cleanser has Benzoyl Peroxide and at $9.99 CDN (on sale) will due in place of Pro-Active. Yes, it can be very drying, therefore, YES, I will need to moisturize.  For now I am trying it out using my Clinique Gel-Moisturizer but I will need to find something with a decent SPF soon.  Beach season is barreling towards me!

facewash

On my way home I FINALLY stopped in at one of the three Thrift Stores that are here in town.  I have not been thrifting in ages and though the store was pretty small, I spend a large amount of time in there.  I was looking for a blue denim jacket- preferably Levi’s but not the be all end all if it’s not.  I did not find any denim but I did find a Garage pullover with a cowl-neck hoodie – could be my new fave. I also found a hot pinky-orange leopard-printy skirt that I could probably also wear as a dress.  Feels like a jersey material and has a nice elastic waistband.  An elderly couple was shopping too and the woman says to me “oh my THAT is CUTE!” whilst I was holding the skirt up to myself, I smiled and said “Oh I know! and so perfect for summer!”.  I also said something about how thats why I LOVE the thrift store, you never know what you are going to find! She agreed and told me she comes in almost every day.  I have no problem talking to old folks especially at the thrift or grocery store but other people in other places cause me awkwardness.  *Personal Observation*.

The last item I picked up for myself was another tea cup and saucer.  I could not help myself.  I have a problem. Cups, Mugs, and Chairs.  I have ’em, I collect ’em, and I seem to gravitate towards ’em.  So, gravitate I did.  I looked over the glassware twice and had just about decided that I would get nothing when I saw a sweet looking set of teacups and saucers.  When I investigated them further I saw that they were hand-painted (SO COOL!) and they are both microwave and dishwasher safe. I have neither but hey, always a plus with mugs and such.  One day I will have a dishwasher and microwave.

teacup1

I bought one set.  One cup and one saucer.  Yes, I am considering walking back tomorrow to buy at least one more.  Or the whole damn set.  I don’t need more then one right now but I could use another one for backup and if I were to entertain ever I would like to have some matching cups and saucers to whip out.  It was only $2 for a set so it’s not like I’d be breaking the bank.  We will see.  I will sleep on it.

I felt really good for that brief amount of time that I was out and about.  The sun had come out in time for my walk home.  I was so hot having worn my winter coat again like a crazy person.  I came right home and threw on my flip flops.  Shortly afterwards I showered and used my new products which was a fun little treat.  I also did a load of laundry so that I could wear my new pullover hoodie asap.

My love even got me out for a long early-evening walk which I very much did enjoy.  I managed to walk more then my daily goal steps on my cell phone app (LG Health) and apparently I walked over 6km! That alone should have made me happier then it did.  Our travels led us down a lot of old streets, I could see years stamped in the sidewalk every so often, 1958, 1962.  So many years, so many people have walked up and down these sideways, where were they they going? What were they doing? I keep meaning to start taking pictures of these historical marks.  It’s neat.

When we were making our way home we took a little detour through town and stopped at 7Eleven.  Oh thank heaven for 7Eleven.  Have always and will always love the slush.  We got a large Crush Cream Soda Slush to share.  It was so pretty and pink and delicious. I shoulda snapped a picture but I didn’t… Perhaps next time… because it won’t be long until there is another one.

And then slowly but surely the dread and sadness began to creep in.  I found myself becoming easily irritated and on edge.  I had a pretty awesome day all in all.  I am not really sure why …. wait…. I think it has just hit me why.  After writing and reading and thinking I think I see the problem.  Something is triggering me here.  In the evenings and at night time I often feel triggered.  Not 100% sure of what said trigger is but now realizing there MUST be a trigger I can be a little more aware of it, NOTE TO SELF.  Be on the look out.

I hope I don’t wake up wanting to spend my day in bed.

Feels like it could be a sleep-my-worries-away kinda day tomorrow.  Who knows.  I don’t know.  Hopefully I am wrong.

Always hoping for sunshine and good vibes.

Stay GRooVY my friends.

Goodnight.

I need a new look

Ahh April.  It’s a new month, we are in a new season, and I am living in a new space.  The sun is out today and I feel like I could use a pick-me-up.

I want to walk to a hair place that is close by and get something fresh done with my ‘do.  I have been noticing that I seem to always gravitate toward this same look.  Blonde on top, Black or whatever on the bottom, and a super-fried shag.  I loved this look 10 years ago, hec probably MORE then 10 years ago now, and I am ready for a change.  Ever since I added Violet aka Blackish-Blueish-kinda-not-so-violet to my hair [a few weeks ago] I have been HATING IT. I got my mom [an ex-stylist] to trim some of my shaggy layers thinking that would help.  It didn’t.  The top looks and feels pretty good but my bottom 2-4 inches is just nasty.  It is so broken and fried that you can almost see through it.  That is NOT HOT.

I have saved oodles of pictures to my phone for months now of haircuts that I like.  Their all mostly the same type of cut so clearly I like it but I am afraid I will hate it on me.  As much as I want to update my look I am so afraid to do it.  I worry I will hate it more if I cut it but at the same time I am hating it now so what do I have to lose?  I hate washing it these days, I HATE styling it – I just threw away my blow-drying brush and I am just about ready to chuck my straightener.  I love a good blow out but I just keep failing doing mine.  I am hating the straightener.  Straight hair was so 10-15 years ago, I am sick of seeing it on myself.  I look the same, pretty much, as I did in 2010 (hair wise).  I chopped it all off a la pixie in 2014 and loved it for all of 2 seconds.  I cried for months but I did it because I was SUPPOSED TO grow it back au natural.  That did not happen and here I am, crispy, fried, over-dyed and frizzy.  As usual.

I am mad at myself for not doing what I originally set out to do which was grow out my natural hair and start over.  I am also embarrassed that I don’t seem to have the willpower to not dye my hair.  I know I need to stop colouring it again and I want to stop.  At least stop anything that isn’t highlights or a nice blonde.  I like highlights and I like certain shades of blonde [on me].

I realize also that the reason that I have continued to dye and fry my hair is due to therapy and my mental health journey.  Anytime anything happens I feel the need to dye my hair.  It needs to stop.

I don’t feel pretty or fab in anyway lately with my hair.  It is not complimenting my face or skin.  I don’t want to spend an hour or 2 styling it anymore.  I used to enjoy spending hours frilling with my hair.  I have more important things I wish to use my time on.  So, since I don’t trust myself to do anymore DIY hair stuff and I could use a pick-me-up I am trying to convince myself that I CAN and SHOULD go get my hair done.  I have only had it done in a salon environment 3x in my life.  I can’t afford colour which is fine right now but I am pretty sure I can afford a trim/new style.

Will I do it? I do not know.  I want to but I may need to sit here and encourage myself for a few more hours.

I hate my hair and I need some new hair but I am too afraid to go and ask for what I want.  Let’s see where this potentially takes us.

Rainy Days, Hair Woes, and missing Mom

blogfotomarch17

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.

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.

 

MOVING OUT

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The time has come where I can no longer stay in my current situation/environment and I have decided to move.  This has been a long time coming and should have happened a long long time ago.  I am to the point where I no longer feel welcome here, I isolate myself on a daily basis and I am stifled creatively.

I have mixed feelings about this move.  I know in my heart that if I stay here I will only stagnate, and I have been stagnating in this toxic and negative place I call “home”.  Thanks in large part to my PTSD and quite possibly my mothers own PTSD I have allowed and been allowed to stay in this house for too many years.

I am 33 (just turned) and I am leaving my mother’s house for the first time.  I have travelled in the past and I have lived in many other places for short periods of time but I have never packed up all of my things and left.  For what I hope to be permanently.  Like I said- I have been here too long.  I have allowed myself to think that I am not capable of living outside of this house.  I have been made to think that it is too hard “out there” and that if I can’t make it here then I certainly can’t make it “out there”.  I have become accustomed to not inviting ANYONE over anymore, even my best friend who has known me for over 20 years.  Partly due to embarrassment and partly due to the feeling that I just shouldn’t.  Socialization is not promoted in this house.  I am sick of being talked down to, I am sick of the constant negativity.  I need to be able to breathe. I need to be able to live.

So. I am moving out.  I have spent the last 2 weekends packing and moving all of my belongings to my mother-in-laws house where I will be staying with my love until we can save up first and last for our own place.  Trust me- I did NOT want to move from one mother to another but as my luck would have it the decision to move happened rather quickly and as we have no other place to go and we need out immediately, this seemed like the best option.  For many reasons.

And so here I sit, in my room, for the last Tuesday I may ever sit in this room.  Most of my stuff is gone to my new home, aside from my bed and a few large furniture items that will be moved Saturday morning, and my cat Marble.

I feel as though I need to remember this. I need to remember sitting in my own house feeling so unwelcome.  I need to remember that this does not feel like home – and then I have to ask myself – has it ever?  Grandma’s house felt like home.  This has never felt like that.  Looking back I realize that this “home” has allowed my PTSD to fester and erupt.  The worst it got, the more I thought I had to stay, all the while being suffocated by the thick, negative air.  Why do I feel like the family outcast? Because I found out 10 years of anxiety and depression where a part of something much bigger (PTSD)? Because I decided to take time off to heal myself? Because I fell in love with a wonderful man? Well. Pardon me all to hell.

I used to think this “home” was a safe place.  I have come to feel that it is not safe at all.  Not for me and my mental health.

I am sad.  I am sad that this took 10 years too long to happen.  I should have been in therapy and moving out 10 years ago.  The time and tears that I have wasted trying to find myself here, and falsely believing this was the best place to do it is frightening.  I am sad that I have allowed my self esteem to be on the chopping block for so long.  I am sad that I let my mother so interfere with my relationship with my father.  I am sad that I let myself down countless times because I was too afraid to be myself.  I am sick of hiding.  I am sick of isolating myself, I am sick of not living my life.

I should be happy that I am leaving- and I am happy but I am also hurt and afraid.  I am hurt because I feel as though the rug has been pulled up from underneath me…AGAIN.  I am afraid because this is all I have known.  I feel like I am about to be freed but I don’t know how I feel about that freedom because -at 33 – this feels very new, overwhelming, and scary.

Stay tuned my friends, this could be a bumpy ride.

The PTSD Tag

Thank you for calling me Brave

THERAPY THURSDAY | July 2016

 

I just started Typing (and this came out)

I am sad.  Again.  The kind of sad that keeps me in bed all day, sometimes sleeping, sometimes crying.  The kind of sad that prevents me from eating or bathing because I just don’t care.

I had a pretty good weekend and Monday wasn’t that bad either.  I filmed for my channel iCarlaVlogs and even re-edited some old vlogs to put up because I felt they were actually really good and I did want to share them.

As far as I know I have a microblading appointment tomorrow morning that I WAS over-the-moon about.  Now I am worried that I screwed up the date or something (I have already send a confirmation text to my eyebrow professional).  I am also worried that I won’t have the $300 to pay for it.  I had some money saved but for some (STUPID) reason I thought I would be paying $200.  It’s funny to me how this all seemed so “do-able” yesterday, last week, even 2 months ago and NOW I am feeling like the walls are closing in.  The walls of disappointment are closing in on me and I wonder why I ever thought I could or should try to improve my appearance and ultimately, my self esteem.

Am I just a boob for wanting to try to make myself feel better ? And for thinking about YouTube again?  It always comes back to YouTube.  I thought I could improve my self esteem whilst also saving for and acquiring some better tools – lights, that DLSR I have wanted for 2 years now, that cool background I can’t stop thinking about.  I want to make videos and I LOVE making videos but that little yet loud voice of negativity stops me in my tracks every time.

I don’t even know why I listen to that little voice.  It’s not like it has been all that helpful.  I started making videos for a reason.  I wanted to be able to see my journey and I also wanted to start documenting more of my life so that I can look back at it in the years to come.  Show my [future] kids who I was before them, remind myself of the bittersweet journey through therapy and life, what did we look like? What were we doing? I also wanted to potentially reach out to anyone who may be dealing with the same thing(s) or even similar thing(s) that I am, let’s form a positive metal health community.  Let’s talk about it and share our experiences.

PHEW.  My eyebrow professional JUST text me back.  I do indeed have an appointment tomorrow, I did not miss anything.  WHAT A RELIEF.  Now I just have to locate the rest of the funds I need.  Ok.  Ya.  That makes me feel a little better.  I was beginning to picture myself not going anywhere tomorrow and having to stare at my terrible brows for who the hec knows how long.  Perhaps it’s because it seems too good to be true.  Maybe that is what my WHOLE problem is.

I am not really used to things working out well in life.  I kinda taught myself that whole disappoint-from-the-start (s0 you are never surprised when you are inevitably disappointed) sometime around 7th grade.  I can surmise that it came from many years of disappointments.  As a kid (and even into adulthood) I was not allowed to partake in any after school activities or clubs.  I was yelled at a lot especially if I tried to express my feelings, I feel like I was always in trouble for something even though looking back I really didn’t do anything wrong.  My mom just was not a happy camper back then, she had good reason but it still doesn’t excuse her lack of emotional presence and overall encouragement.  I spent half my weekends here, in Tiny Town, Canada but I spent the other half with my Dad, wherever he would be.  Newmarket, Toronto, Sharon, Woodbridge, I have stayed in all of these towns for various lengths of time.  This was my escape.  My escape into a more positive world where it seemed anything was possible.

My Dad and my grandparents supported my creativity and always encouraged me to be myself.  They never made me feel bad about being me.  When I would return home to Tiny Town (p.s. this is my made up name for my “town”),  I always felt like I was leaving something behind.  In a sense I guess I was.  I was leaving my true self behind.  My true self was safe with them.  Back in Tiny Town I would put my shield up and hide inside myself.  Things I wanted to do or create, places I wanted to go, all seemed so unattainable sitting in my bedroom in our old farmhouse.  I suppose one day I just gave up.  Before becoming a teenager I gave up.  So sick of getting excited for something only to be crippled with disappointment.  It happened ALL THE TIME.  So I said f*ck it.  I got you beat.  I will just stop expecting anything therefore I can stop feeling so shitty when nothing happens.

It took some time to get used to but by high school I was getting used to living in the land of don’t-expect-anything [positive].  By college I got so depressed thinking “what’s the point” that I dropped out of my Art & Design program a year and a half in.  This became on ongoing pattern for me. I would start something and inevitably it would cave because I would become so wrapped up in feeling like nothing-good-can-come-of-this.  It seemed anytime something positive would happen, Captain Negative was there to smash it.  That is what my mom turned into- Captain Negative.  I realize now it was a protective measure meant to inform and warn us but I got too stuck in the negative zone which mixed oh-so-well with not expecting much.

This problem has followed me into adulthood and ultimately prevent me from doing things-such as uploading videos or feeling that I deserve to fix my eyebrows (just quick examples).  And man am I sick of it.  I hate feeling this way.

I want to live.  I want to create.  I want to be me and not feel bad about it.

I need to be my own escape now.  My Dad is gone and my Grandma lives too far away to visit regularly.  I am an adult now.  I am no longer a child or a teenager.  I can and need to learn to support myself in a more positive way.  If something doesn’t work out SO WHAT?! It’s not the end of the world.  But it is a sad world, to live waiting to be disappointed.

 

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The Fighter in Me

The fighter in me is tired.

I don’t want to fight anymore.

I feel as though I have been battling my entire life and I am sick of it.  I am sick of hiding my true self and my true feelings.  I am sick of being someone else just to please those around me.  I want to live my life.

I am sick of feeling bad about myself for wanting to be myself.  I am sick of the anxiety and depression eating away at me, always reminding me it’s there and that it can and WILL ruin anything and everything.  I am sick of feeling like “the little engine that can’t”.

I have been off of work (and on Disability because of my illness) for over 2 years now.  It’s almost up and it worries me.  Part of me wants an extension, part of me doesn’t.  Disability, though helpful, really sucks.  I seem to have the case-worker who never calls me back and doesn’t seem all that willing to help me.  I want to be helped.  I want to be better.  Why do I always get the shitty case worker?

When I was first off work and looking into Disability, I had to temporarily go on Welfare whilst I waited (over a YEAR!!!) for my Disability claim to be accepted and begin.  While on Welfare I had a case worker – a different one then I have now.  I went on Welfare to get Disability (this is what they tell you to do) so I could focus on getting better and become a strong member of society.  My first meeting with my Welfare case worker I was told to “go on medication and try harder”.  Thank you.  I NEVER thought of that! I haven’t already been over-medicated, over-worked, and out of options.  I was literally treated like dirt on this woman’s shoe.  This is what we get for trying to help ourselves???  To add insult to injury I had to pretty much tell this woman against my will that I had been victim of sexual abuse as a child, my mom is crazy (not literally speaking) and my dad is dead.  I will never forget driving home from that meeting.  I cried the entire way home.  I seriously considered slamming my beloved red Cavalier into a telephone pole.  End it.

I perservered and I indeed was accepted to receive Disability payments until early 2017.  Great! The bullshit is over.  WRONGO!!!  I literally have to chase down my case worker via telephone if I have so much as a simple question.  I have had to get my local MP involved because I felt as though I was being completely ignored.  Here I am, a few months later, being ignored AGAIN.  I have questions I need answers to.  I have been calling and leaving messages for over 2 weeks and have yet to receive a call back.  Now I know not every case worker is like this, I just seem to have this incredible luck.  I try to help myself and I get these assholes who make me feel like I have taken 2 to 12 steps back.  I went on disability to help myself.  Is that not what it is for?

I have been crying all afternoon and some of the night.  I feel like I have completely screwed myself with all of this.  In a few months I will be kicked off.  I no longer have my beloved car.  I had to sell it because I needed the money more at the time.  The confidence I was hoping to gain is non existent.  I find myself wondering why the hell I even bothered trying [to help myself].  The fear, anxiety, and depression still cripples me and I am so sick of it.  I am sick of it all.

Something needs to change.  The system sucks all the way around.  I know this from a lot of experiences.  It’s not right.  We tell our children “it will get better”.  Why are we lying to them?  How does it get better?  You become an adult where nothing gets better.  The bullying doesn’t end, it just appears in other places.  Grow a thicker skin? Fuck you.  Learn some compassion and have some understanding.  My brain is already against me.  I don’t need validation from assholes that it’s right.

When my dad died in 2013 I promised myself I would make my life what I wanted because life is too short not to.  I still believe that but I am tired.  I have spent over a decade making decisions based on fear and agoraphobia (and what my mother will say but that’s another story for another day…).  I am tired of the fear holding me back.  I am tired of being afraid. I don’t want to cry anymore.

I feel as though I am either giving up or just starting to move forward.  I am honestly not sure which it is.  I have not given up yet but if I can’t get this ball rolling I can’t promise I won’t [give up].  I can’t live the next 10+ years the way I lived the last 10+ years.  I can’t because I won’t make it if I do.