Wednesday, June 18, 2014
So today begins Day 3 unemployed. So far I am absolutely loving it. I'm relaxed. I have more energy and patience for my son. I have more time to walk my dog. I have time to hang out with my wonderful boyfriend. I have been reading. I have been letterboxing. I am scheduled to volunteer at Ryder's school. I've been drinking those great new Arnold Palmer Coolattas (Dunkies, if you want to send me some of them to review I will be happy to!) I thought I would be bored, but this is not the case at all. There are a ton of more things I want to do.
I have applied for a job or two. I feel like I should knock on wood because I do not want to be unemployed forever. But, seriously, I'm really digging it.
This might be happy. I'm not sure because it is not a feeling I am really too familiar with, but maybe.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
I have been. I was in school and I was sharing a car, so when I went to the gas station for my interview and was told I would be working 2 - 10 every Saturday I was psyched. Exactly what I needed.
But not so much. I was under the impression that I had a set schedule. The schedules came out on Mondays and it was kinda far from my house, so I never checked it. This became a problem quite quickly when management kept scheduling me for different hours - usually more hours. So when I showed up on Saturday at 2 and the people were pissed because I was supposed to be there at noon, I told them I was told when I was hired, that I was working 2 - 10.
This did not make me popular. Actually everyone hated me and this continued for a few months. Finally I found a different job at a restaurant and I put in my two week notice. I was moving the Saturday after I put in my notice and had requested the day off. Again, I didn't check my schedule and didn't know I wasn't given the day off. I mean, I would've taken the day off either way because I was moving - what did they want me to do?
So, while I was moving, I got a phone call telling me I was fired. But how could I be fired after I had quit??
Saturday, April 5, 2014
This next one is a middle-aged man who talks about his experiences, as well, but in a slightly more academic way:
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Depression: Day 4
I'm so over this. There is way too much to do to be stuck in bed. I have too much work to do, yet it gets harder and harder every day to go.
I am overwhelmed.
I don't even know what to write, where to start.
The worst part is that there is no end in sight. No light at the end. I mean, maybe, but the light is dim and too many years away. By then I will have missed so much.
People make me sad. The state of the world makes me sad. People who blame themselves for things they could not have prevented, ironically, make me sad.
I have been happier lately. Maybe this is my depression reminding me who is in charge here.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
It's been a while since I discussed this and, honestly, I can't remember what I've told you, loyal reader, and what I haven't.
After years and years and years of healing, there are still memories that come up that are uncomfortable. Then when I really start to think about these memories I realize why they are so uncomfortable, why I never told anyone, why I hid them away. It is because they were abuse. And abuse is insanely difficult to identify by the person being abused. Next time you see a woman (or man) who is being abused and when you don't understand how they can stay in that situation, remember me telling you how hard it is for her to see it.
I grew up in a wonderful, loving home. My parents loved us and they loved each other. There was no abuse. I am lucky to have had such a wonderful family and role models. And yet, I was in abusive relationships (plural) and I didn't know. Imagine the child living with abuse, a child who did not have the privileges that I had. How is that person ever supposed to know they are being abused if they have never known any different?
And I will never say that one abuse is worse than another, but, to be honest, I wished (outloud at some points) that he would hit me. Then I would have known I was being abused and I would have had physical proof to convince people, like family, friends, authorities, and myself.
And since I am being honest, per usual, I need to admit that it is nearly impossible for a person to understand that a husband can rape his wife. Where does duty end and rape begin? And maybe that even sounds crazy to some because is there 'duty'? Maybe it is all rape at that point. But, seriously, that makes things too unfathomable. I have not gotten that far in my recovery and this is the frankest I've ever been with myself.
Save your judgements. You have no right to judge her and what is happening to her. She needs help and possibly guidance, but certainly not judgements. It might be obvious to you that what it is is abuse, but I am telling you, pleading with you to understand, that it is not obvious at all to her.
I am going to make a point now that maybe obvious to some, but trust me: it is not obvious to all.
It is abuse if he forces you to have sex if you do not want to. It doesn't matter what you do or don't do, what you say or don't say, what you wear or don't wear. If you don't want to and he does not respect that, that is abuse. Is it rape? I am afraid you will have to ask someone smarter than myself. All I know is if it feels wrong, it is. And you are better than that and there are men who are better than that. You do not have to live like that.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
It is crazy out there. Seriously, crazy shit happens all the time. You read about it in the papers, so I stopped reading papers. You see it on your Twitter feed, so I lay off Twitter. Now it pops up on my facebook feed. Am I supposed to cut down on facebook use? That's crazy itself. I like staying informed, I just hate reading about the tradgedies and the crazy accidents. Like the boy in Gardner who died when a tv fell on him in school. Did not need to know that. Did not need another thing to worry about.
Because how do you save your children from falling TVs? You can teach them not to talk to strangers, but how do you save them from the monsters they know? You can hold their hands and teach them to look both ways, but how do you save them from that drunk driver?
Obviously I know you can't. You just have to let them go and live life. But I'm not really okay with that.
I worry that my son will need glasses, both his father and I wear glasses. More importantly, I worry my son will have a mental illness. I was clinically depressed by the time I was his age. His father is bipolar. What chance does he have? I mean, I know It's not the end of the world and it is something that can be dealt with, but I'd rather he didn't have to. It's something I just need to keep an eye on, but what if I miss it? How do you save your children from the devils in their head?
I worry that he might end up like his father, but I am 100% certain that he has an advantage over his father - he has people that love him. He has a family who supports him. He's got a pretty good mom.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
I did everything like I was supposed to do. I picked a vocation young (zookeeper) and stuck with it. Took the necessary courses in high school, graduated top of my class, got into the university of my choice. Did well in college. Maybe partied a bit much, but still graduated with a better than 3.0 GPA. I met my love while in school. We worked and saved and moved to Colorado. We got married. Then shit happened.
Fast forward through the shit that was not supposed to happen.
I finally get my dream job of being a zookeeper I worked so hard to get. I hated it. I quit after the summer was over.
We get back together. We live in a really nice place and we are bringing in enough money to be content. So we decide to have a child. I got pregnant right away and had a perfect little boy. Then shit happened.
Fast forward through the shit that was not supposed to happen.
I am a single mom. I am an only parent. I do not receive child support. I have a job that I never wanted.
I find a school program that I am interested in. And it is online, so I can do my course work while my son is sleeping. Perfect.
Then shit happened.
We can't fast forward through this shit, though, because it is currently happening.
I did it all right. I went to college, I did well in school, I got engaged and then married and then a decent income and then, and only then, a child. That is the right order. Married and then child. I was told if I worked hard and did what I was supposed to do, everything would work out. You know what? Good grades and good jobs and having a child within wedlock and continuing with school, that shit means nothing. It doesn't matter.
I had a plan. And this is not it.