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Growing Up

There's this thing my mother does where she just absolutely explodes in a rage when I ask her a question or make an idle comment on something innocuous.

For example:

I informed her there was a 10pm showing of Les Mis at a local cinema. Her response was a quick and biting "Well are you going to drive your brother because you know his car is dead."

A- No, I had yet to be informed of the car being in the shop.

B- This was an update to a month long conversation the family has been having about when we would go see the movie. Duncan and I have been obsessing for months with Momma and Patrick joining the bandwagon within the last few weeks. We all planned to see it together as a family Christmas gift.

Her response left me confused because, again, this was to be a family thing.

I replied (tempering the snotty teenager that rears her head every time these things happen) "I only thought you'd like to know since you were planning on coming."

"You know I'm cleaning tomorrow; I have so much to do." There's a list that follows; things she'll clean and things the boys won't help her do all in this tone. Then "And you know my cramping gets worse at night."

End conversation. She hangs up. I stare at my phone. I stare at the wall. I stare at the ceiling. I force away the feeling of growing anxiety.

This scares me. It scares me because as much as it seems just another conversation between a harried mother and her daughter, it's almost as if my mother thinks she has had parts of this conversation with me before. She's convinced I already know these things, that I'm being deliberately dense.

She's already told me that Duncan's car is in the shop. She's already told me that she has tons to do and to clean. She's already told me her cramps are flaring up at night. She's already told me this and that and the other and why oh why can't I remember and keep up already?

But.... she hasn't. This is the first conversation we've had in weeks that wasn't a texted "Hope you had a swell day; good night."

There's all this anger and exasperation and unspoken 'you should know this' in her tone --- but I shouldn't know. Nothing has been said. And this happens more and more frequently. Almost every conversation we have now includes at least one unspoken "duh" after a sentence spit out with anger.

And when we do talk without the anger, she frets about her mother who loses conversational threads and misplaces things and misnames medicines and people and things that she should know. My mother worries that her mother has Alzheimers or at least the beginning stages. 

I worry I'm seeing something similar in her. 

This growing up thing sucks monkeys.

Jul. 3rd, 2012

I'm not sure what's actually going to make it into this update. Or even if this will be updated.

I haven't written in my diary in seven months. There's a lot of shit just built up inside that's slowly eating at me-- you know that feeling?

I was in a...something for three months. His name is Lee and bless his heart, he was sweet. But he kinda broke me so maybe not as awesome as early reports. First kiss, first time somebody treated me like I was fucking special. He changed my light bulbs on our third date because I mentioned my kitchen being dark on the second. He called me Murdock because "I was a little special, but in that awesome crazy way." He laughed when I slipped into accents or my Swedish Chef impersonation. He got me drunk and held my hand and watched Doctor Who while we practiced that whole kissing thing. 

And then he started "leaving his phone" in the truck, at work, at home, whatever ... and texting less. I'll be careful to note I was not overzealous in my texts. I don't go crazy smothery. Then three days of silence and I kind of knew shit was going to happen in a bad way. I cried for a day, then showed the texts to my coworker who confirmed I was not being stupid, he was pulling away and I should prepare to be hurt.

It wasn't dramatic. He was very mature about it. He wasn't feeling it and he wished he could have come to the conclusion sooner. I was less mature and warned him for future relationships that being ignored hurt worst than any rejection. He apologized again; then unfriended me on Facebook and deleted his OKC account-- or blocked me. I'm not sure I want to know which. 

I spent about a week being really horribly emotional over it. I cried a lot and felt just...all around fucking crappy. And then nothing. I didn't think about him, work got crazy, friends came from everywhere to take me out and it was nice.

But everything cycles... Members are starting to ask me about my new beau. Yeah, a month after the break up, the gossip has finally made it to the members. I don't even... I was so floored the first time my favorite member asked me about my boyfriend, I must have looked like a scared fish. So, there's a new pain having to explain or ignore it each time. Jess just got married so the member's are all about being in the front line's relationship business. How's the marriage treating you, Jess? How are the twins, Diane? How's the new boyfriend, Kate? (Or Cat, cause for some reason Caitlin = Cat a Lynn)

Top that with this:
My room mate has moved out for the summer.

I'm so alone. Like 24/7 alone.

But not truly? I'm not truly alone. I know I have friends, lovely wonderful people who love me and would do all sorts of illegal acts if I asked it of them. But knowing this in no way alleviates or invalidates this prevailing feeling of just being so isolated. 

It's not "breaking up" that hurts. I'm not still bent over Lee. And it's not even not being in a relationship with a guy... it's not being able to share. There's so much inside of me, I just want to share all the damn time. I'll see the stupidest things and want to tell someone. For a bit, I had someone I could text the weirdest things who would laugh and come back with something equally as off-the-wall, or at least be entertained.

Now there's no one. This morning my bacon burned into a shape. Stupidest thing ever, but it just killed me that I don't have a person. I want to share. Everything. with Everyone. Anyone. You? 

And I need to be shared with. I have such a damn need to hear people talk about their day, their life, their world. It seems sometimes random that people just tell me things-- but it's not really random is it? I'm broadcasting as loud as I can "I care, tell me, tell me everything!" And they do. And it feeds some need in me to be a part of this sharing.

AND my favorite bow tie guy just got married and introduced me to his wife. I don't even. I...ugh.

So here I am, shouting this out into the LJ ether.  Hoping it takes away some of the need to share that's bursting inside me.

Welcome, Welcome 2012

In 2011, I started a new job that I love to pieces with people that I mostly love to pieces.

I've learned a lot about myself in an office situation where my coworkers are not my age and are not my professors. I'm still learning to navigate the political stream; but I've been granted so many promotions and privileges, I must be doing something right.

I've made at least one really-really-really-close friend out of the bunch, and at least half of them I'm lucky to call friend.

Lizzie and BJ moved out; Stacey moved in.

I dumped a toxic friend (and haven't looked back- oh Lord, how nice it's been.)

I wrote a story that is now over 30k words and has three people hooked to the point they ask me for updates once a week. It's flattering and strange and awesome all at the same time.

I went on two dates. This is huge for me, let me have my moment.

I'm still an employee at Holiday Inn; if only for once every three months. It's fun to go back there and try to remember everything.

In 2012, I hope to:

Make more Crafts and Sell Them.

Learn Something New. (Vague Goal is Vague)

Finish mah novel.

Volunteer 80 hours of my time.

And some other vague cheesy goals that are best kept close to my heart.

I hope we all have a happy, healthy, and wise new year. I'm here for you if you need me. :)

What PCOS means to me... (TMI)

I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS).

I feel like less than a woman sometimes. . .Collapse )

This is my body, and this is what it does to me. Please don't dismiss it as "that PCOS thing."
 first day today.

flipping out.

See y'all in a coupla months when I finally remember how to breathe when being this busy.

Why do my friends live so far away??

 My friends are so beyond awesome.

A friend and I were discussing Valentine's Day. We're both single but both happy with the day-- we have our own traditions and celebrations to make it just another fun day. However, she has some particularly grumpy friend who dumped on her.

Her response was nice, and silly, and completely not what she first wanted to say. But as she discussed it further, she came to a great conclusion, y'all.

You catch more flies with honey than with online ass fuckings.

. . .  .Yup. True facts. My friends are awesome.

And all so far away! :(
 Do not let me buy anything else. Period. I have $100 in grocery gift cards and that should keep me for the month of January if not February as well. I have $25 at Wal-Mart that can be used for crafty splurges should the need become too great.

But. I am carrying a $1200 credit card balance stemming from the $1300 in car repairs and the various holiday sales I participated in.

Also. I need to purchase a new washer and dryer. I want front loading but those are so.much.more.expensive, so I'll wind up spending about $400 on each. This total will be added to my credit card.

I will need to buy a new garbage disposal since my roomie disposed of a spoon. The machine tends to dislike that. It sounded fine the other night after it happened, but today it's sounding crappy and angry. I should make them buy a new one and my mother will say as much-- but I'm pretty sure it was one of my spoons that he knocked down in there while cleaning the sink out.

My car is leaking oil. Which has stained my driveway. Which will give my mother and grandmother a stroke. 

. . . *sigh*. . .  .

Happy New Year! 

May we all be better, stronger, healthier, financially independent-er, or at least happier in the coming year.

Dec. 31st, 2010

 I'm really tired of being used.

I'm really beyond tired of the culprits being my friends.

((And as is always the way, after posting this and surfing about I decided to read my horoscope. Yeah, I know, right? But get this: "Expect more testing on the self-love scales as you're called to evaluate which relationships pan out in a close to equal give and take ratio and which completely suck you dry. Any and all ties that waste your time and cut into self-esteem must be severed. It's high time you know your value Leo: no more settling, and definitely no more desperate measures."))

Dec. 14th, 2010

 Reeeally good at doing that "Oh, tell me more," thing/face/noise even when I don't really want to be making it.

This has led to really long and awkward conversations with people lately. Of the "I was feverish when we talked and cannot remember any of your traumatic tale no matter how sage my advice seemed at the time" variety.

 Newsflash: I mainly craft when I'm stressed. The night I posted my last entry, I made three necklaces, two bracelets, and a ring.

Tonight I turned a pair of jeans into a purse that has two flap options-- a simple flap or a weaved panel of denim that will be bound with some kinda homemade bias tape. I planned out how to make a strap out of thrifted belts. I measured out the silky white lining I will sew at work tomorrow later today. I've planned out the white free-form thread design I would love over top of the woven denim panel to simultaneously hold the weaving together and add a personalized decoration to the front.

I don't know what it is exactly I'm stressed about, but I'm not looking forward to my dreams tonight.
In further news of how bad I need to learn to say "no," I recently tallied it up and in the past two months alone I've loaned friends and family over $800. To break that down, that's:
  •  $400 for my brother's rent.
  • $100 and change for something my family needed, possibly my other brother's band fees.
  • $200 to a friend in need that will actually be sent later this week.
  • and somewhere around $50 to a friend who had lost her wallet.

To be completely clear, the last $50 is the only one I regret in any way shape or form. Every person except for that last bit has promised to pay me back, but even if I never see another penny it's money that was needed more by that person than it was by me at that time.

But really, seriously, I just now got to the point where my account was over negative numbers. There's still a balance on my credit card.

I maybe, really, seriously need to be trained in how to step back and let my first thought be about myself. That sounds callous in my head. But right now my thought process is always "How can I fix this?" and maybe it should be "How can I help them fix it themselves?" I spend nights afterwards worrying over them. Is this money going to be enough, can I stretch and give more, I wish they were closer cause I have food I could make for them . . etc, etc, etc. When people-- well, okay mostly my mother-- ask in that incredulous voice "Why are you doing that?!" my response is always some hogwash about my being raised too Southern to refuse to help-- but I'm really worried it's just something hardwired wrong in my head.

I dunno. There's some thing, some training, some instinct I'm maybe missing.

This has been yet another look into my head, ha!


I owe less than 400 dollars on my credit card. This is down from the 1600 it's been holding consistently at since November.

I cannot even begin to explain how happy this makes me and how hard I am crying right now.

I'm so thankful to have a job; to be able to pay my debt, to be able to pay rent, to be able to help my brother out.

If my mother and brother find jobs, my family may well make it through this year and the impending divorce without major financial issues. 

I haven't gone grocery shopping in two months. I just might make a list and go on Monday in celebration. Ramen for everyone!
(and isn't that a celebration-- adding more debt to the pile?)


There are times when all I want to do is stand up and confront people about what they've done, what they're doing to me or mine or society. I want nothing more than to explain to them explicitly how they've affected me; because if I don't stand up and say something- who will? Nobody but me can explain how or what I feel.

The only problem is I absolutely cannot handle confrontations physically even if I could find the right approach mentally.  My body shuts me down in the face of confrontation much in the same way it does when my phone anxiety rears it's head (phone anxiety, luckily, is something I've recently conquered mostly).

My mouth goes dry, my tongue swells, my throat closes. My toes curl up. Seriously. 

My brain goes blank. I can no longer recall which word it was I wanted to use-- and I'm not talking about fancy witticisms I might use to make my point. I mean simple words like "and", "the", "at". . . My name. The other person's name.

Tonight my dad was in my face about my car and I could not remember the word "coil," which only served to piss him off further.  (I can only imagine the floundering fish face I made of 'what the hell do I say? what the hell is the word?' served to confuse and thus incite his anger further)

It's not even that I struggle over which words to say to emphasize the fact that I'm not attacking anybody, but instead trying to let them know how I was impacted by their actions. Again, if I don't tell them, I can't expect them to just KNOW.

There have been a few instances lately where I've really needed to confront people in my life. Not in a violent, let's fight for our honor kind of way- but in a "Hey, I really didn't appreciate the way you posted that on my Facebook where my family, and friends not involved, could and DID see. It made life awkward for me in real life because you aired your issues online on my page" or "Hey, let's try not using me as the pathetic friend example just because I'm a card-carrying member of the virgin club" way. See? Not huge issues, but things that I should be able to talk to people about without complete and total meltdown.

Yet, I had the chance to talk to both parties and in both instances backed down before I could start and instead chatted about the weather, the day, my mother, anything and everything EXCEPT what was bothering me.

Sometimes I feel like such a chicken; I let these things fester in my heart because I can't face people. Sometimes I think maybe I'm better off without causing drama.

Either way, My neuroses: Let me show you them.

It needs to be said.

 Full disclosure: I read this here: kita0610.livejournal.com/651280.html (through friends-of-friendslist surfing)
I agree with it so whole heartedly, similar statements have been circling lately. I'd like to add my own to the mix in my own circle here.

"I want anyone who reads this to know that if you ever come to me, and say you were coerced, harassed, or otherwise assaulted sexually, that I will straight up, full on, non stop believe you. I will not demand proof, I will not ask why you didn't confront your accuser in any manner, and I most certainly will not in any way remotely *hint* at the fact that it might be your fault.

Even if you were on a date. Even if you were at a con. Even if you were drunk off your ass.

And if there is anyone, right here, right now, reading this post who disagrees with my stance, kindly take yourself off my friend's list because we will never, ever have anything to say to one another."

I want to add a thank you for those for supported me, who believed me, who didn't demand proof before working to make me feel safe when I was sexually harassed at work. I don't cotton to those who would perpetuate blaming the victim. I've been working on an entry about my experiences, about how crazy emotional I felt, about the guilt some "friends" made me feel. . . I'm not sure I'll ever post it or that I'll ever find the words to sum up what I've learned and what i believe beyond those above. ^

Dispelling the need by making a list

Typing this up because I want to be crafting right now so bad my fingers ITCH, but I'm at my mom's house and currently cannot.

  • Crafting/Jewelry Wire-
    • thin and thicker gauged, multiple colours but definitely more silver. Whipping out a few rings a night is easy and fun.
  • Ring Shank-
    • Uhhh, cause guessing is not working out for me. I keep making really big and really small rings but nothing in between. And Momma is getting tired of my trying to make a ring her size.
    • Is that even what it's called, shank?? The ring size measury-thingy-do-hickey.
  • Seed Beads-
    • Are they still called seed beads if they're not super tiny? (See how informed I am?) Need something big enough a regular sized needle can fit through but tiny enough as to be pretty when backstitched in a pattern. I learned how to make the swirly patterns my current tapestried hippy purse has and plan on making my own. Eventually. One square started, many more to go. Golds and Reds, Burgundy and Browns.
  • OH, OH OH! More pretty fabric to play with, please and thank you!