Bonus Post: Birthday Anxiety

My birthday is in five days and I laid in bed this morning and cried over it. Why? Well, the basic reason is that I'm sure "the man" won't remember until Facebook reminds him and even then, he won't do anything more than text me Happy Birthday.

The deeper reason goes back a lot further. Some of you may know that my mother was abusive. I don't remember when it started, but I know that by the time I was in middle school, it was happening. She would get upset about something and scream at me. She would scream that she wished I'd never been born, that I ruined her life. Quite often this would come along with her slapping me repeatedly. Over the years, that has stuck with me like sap clinging to a pine tree.

So, ever year, when September rolls around, I start hearing her voice in my head. Except the message has changed slightly.  Now it's that nobody cares that I was born. Nobody cares enough to even go to the dollar store to get me a card and mail it out. It's not about the money, it's about the effort. Nobody loves me enough to make any effort.

People will point out how many Facebook comments I get that day wishing me a happy birthday. My brain will kick in and say, "Sure, but those take zero effort. You leave them for people all the time and it takes about two seconds of your life." To those people I'll smile and say "Yes, isn't it wonderful? So many people care."

It's getting better, I guess. It used to be the entire month. Last year it was the ten days leading up to my birthday. This year I made it to five days before my birthday. Except the next five days will be hell for me. I'll have a desperate urge to go and check the mailbox, even though I know there's nothing there. I'll look for UPS shipping notifications even though I know nobody has sent anything.

My birthday will be the worst because, in my head, it will be the day that yet again it is confirmed that I don't matter enough to anyone, not even the man I've been in a relationship with for five years, to make even the smallest of efforts. One year I received something like three cards and a friend had a cake delivered. It was the most amazing year, but the next year was a hard crash when none of those same people did it again. Still, for that one year, I felt loved and special and it was wonderful.

I've mentioned my birthday once or twice on Facebook, mostly because it sort of snuck up on me. I guess that's improvement. I've not shared an Amazon wish list even once (nobody has asked for one either). I've not posted any sort of countdown. I'm sure that people got tired of me mentioning it for an entire month...well, 23 days.

I've been asked if I have plans for my birthday and the answer is no. In the past, whenever I've made plans, the other people have cancelled them. Those were really tough blows for me and further proof to my brain that I didn't matter. I always hope someone will remember and invite me to visit or something, but that's never happened. I suppose I could buy myself a tiny cake and eat it, but doesn't that scream pathetic and nobody loves you?

No, it will be just another Wednesday. I'll be here, alone, working on a client's book. The only addition will be some tears as my mother's voice screams I told you so in my head.

Weekly Update: Monday again?

It seems like we just had a Monday and here we are back with another one. I'm super sleepy and super sneezy today. I'm sure that the two aren't connected but if they are, I'm going to go take a nap.

Man, I wish I had a great segue with speaking of naps... but I don't. I do have a Roger here though which is nice. I really wish he were staying longer than just until tomorrow. It hurts knowing that he's not going back to campus but doesn't really want to stay here either. He says it's because the dryer doesn't work and the shower is always cold. I can't argue that. It's true. I'm hoping to get a repairman out for the dryer once I finish this next project. As for the shower, something keeps tripping the circuit that the water heater is on. That's something that the owner will have to deal with which means that I need to keep dealing with the house so I can make that happen.

I guess that leads to the past week. I struggled some with being removed from Indie Volt. They didn't even talk to me about it, they just didn't send me the link to join the show. I wasn't surprised, but I was hurt. The owner and I have supposedly been friends for years. Four days before I made the post about working with anyone affiliated with a hate group, we drove two hours to his kid's birthday party and hung out all day. Now, he's making digs about me on his show and/or letting others do the same thing. One of his hosts unfriended me on social media, the other tried to take a few swings at me on my own post. It's disheartening to realize that people you thought were good people aren't really good people at all. The whole thing made me really sad.

There were other bits of drama...like a creative team that I worked with telling the publisher that my lack of communication was part of the reason they were pulling their book from being published by them. I gave these guys every possible way to reach me, including my phone number. They never used it. I really don't like being thrown under the bus like that.

Speaking of sad...(yeah, I had to use that.) I sold my flute yesterday. I hadn't made a really solid effort to do so because part of me felt guilty. My grandmother bought it for me when I was in high school and even though it wasn't something I enjoyed playing (open hole) and it had no real monetary value (low-end instrument), she had bought it for me. Then, I remembered what it was like clearing out her house when she got sick. I don't want that for my kids. There's no reason to hold onto things that you don't love. She wouldn't feel bad that I sold it to a young woman who was insanely excited to receive it. I have to say that her excitement did make me smile. She was so grateful that I was selling it to her.

I wish all people were as awesome as she was. I've been trying to get rid of three totes full of craft items for months. There has to be close to $500 worth of items between the three totes. I listed them all three totes for $30...then $20...nothing. I listed them for free and I've had at least ten people ask about them. One went so far as to ask if I'd deliver them to her for free. That was a big solid no. First of all, I doubt they'd all fit inside my car. Secondly, at least offer $5 for gas...

Anyway, someone is supposed to pick those up in about ninety minutes. Hopefully she shows up. It's going to hurt to let them go that way, but at least I'll be reclaiming a chunk of my front porch. I keep reminding myself that space has value as does the peace that I feel looking at something tidy and not all junked up. My front porch totally feels all junked up right now. So does my house so I'm going to be trying to work on that at least a little bit each day.

Man, I am terrible at transitioning topics today but I'm just going to pretend that since they're all about me, that's okay. I've been neglecting me...or maybe disrespecting me is a better phrase for a bit. The other night, I cracked open a brand new notebook and I wrote a list of 10 things that are important and that I need to be focusing on. Oddly enough, jackassy people didn't make that list. Things like taking the time to read or build Lego (self-care), spending time with my boys (family), and working on my own career did. Building myself an emotionally healthy atmosphere also made the list. It's a good list and one that I can go back to when things feel like they're spiraling. I can go back and say...what's really important? and then focus on that.

For now though, I need to go log a new project and get some work in on the current one. Keep being amazing, my friends, and taking care of yourselves.

Weekly Update: God What a Week

God, what a week. Monday was okay, I guess...Well, no, it wasn't. On Monday, we realized that we didn't think Mittens was eating. We couldn't be 100% sure though. On Tuesday, when I couldn't coax her to eat wet food or tuna, I knew we had a problem and I called the vet. They were booked, but the vet herself called me back around 7pm that night. She offered to leave out antibiotics or I could bring her in the following morning. My gut said to take her in, so I did. I haven't really told anyone what happened and I know this is going to make me cry, but ...

When we got there, the assistant directed me to take her and wait under the gazebo. They don't allow humans inside the practice right now. A few minutes later, the vet came out and took her back to take her temperature. Just a few minutes passed before she came out and told me that Mittens had lost over half her body weight since they'd seen her just two years before. I knew she'd lost weight, but she's always been so dainty that I didn't realize it was that bad. She told me we could do blood tests, iv fluids, but there was only one or two things that she may recover from and she'd have to be treated for the rest of her life. I asked if we gave her fluids (she was severely dehydrated), how long before we'd know if they were helping. The vet told me that if I was planning on putting her to sleep if they didn't work, she'd rather I just do it then instead of having Mittens last day being poked and prodded. I knew then that there was no hope...my heart shattered when I told the vet that that's what we should do. She went in, gave her the shot, and then brought her back to me in her carrier. We sat there under the gazebo, the wind blowing softly, and her head bumping my hand for loves right until she passed. The vet came out and wrapped her in a baby blanket before taking her away. I went to my car and tried not to sob while it took both assistants to figure out how to bring me the flea meds that I needed for the other cats. Then, I went to Dairy Queen, got a cherry slush and cried my way back home.

That afternoon or maybe it was Thursday, a friend approached me about what had happened on a webshow that I'm often part of (or was..I suspect that's very over). He didn't know how to handle it and was super sweet about not wanting to bother me with it, but as we're both in the same line of work, it affected me too. My brain was mush from grief but I felt as if I had to make a stand. I posted a long post to Facebook that basically boiled down to "If you're an asshole, I won't work with you." I never called out anyone, said anything about the webshow or any of its hosts. It really wasn't about them. It was about me. It was about my career. It was about standing up for what's right. Hate groups, no matter the direction of the hate, aren't right. If you know me, you know hate isn't even in my vocabulary. It's an alien concept to me. I can't understand why anyone would hate anyone just because they're different.

I wish it had ended there. It didn't. People commented, mostly in support. One or two seemed thinly veiled but I let them go. I got private messages. One was from the guy who runs the network the webshow is on. He asked who had pushed me to write what I wrote. I told him it didn't matter, that I'd said what I'd said and I'd stand by it. I did tell him that there was some concern with one of their hosts. He defended the host. His choice. At this point, I was already unable to focus, half unable to form sentences due to the loss of Mittens and the ugliness that was rearing its head. I was leaning heavily on a couple of friends who were seeing what was happening.

I announced that I was slowly going to bring back Geek-o-Rama, a site that I've ran for over 8 years and got a not even slightly veiled slap out at me. It hurt. I won't lie. I had people who I considered friends turn on me. Why? Because I said I wouldn't work with assholes. If you don't know, there are a lot of assholes in the comics community. Some belong to a group called Comicsgate. I won't get into their details, but they're a hate group. Some who belong...well, it makes no sense, but they're like lambs to the slaughter or something.

Anyway, it was too much for me. I was crying constantly. I was angry. I was exhausted. Then, Friday night, just when I was praying it was all over and I was going to go to bed, a bat started swooping around my living room. I opened the door to let it out and two of my cats ran out. It was midnight. I couldn't find them in the dark. Hell, I was on my front porch in a tank top and underwear trying to get them back in. I finally did go put pants on. After 90 minutes, I managed to get both cats inside and locked up in the bathroom. I said fuck it to the bat and went to bed, shutting the 3rd cat with me in my bedroom. A few hours later, I woke up to find one of the bathroom cats laying on me. My door appeared to be shut. I honestly thought I had snapped, that I had lost my mind. I kept looking at him, looking at the door, trying not to freak out...and after a few minutes got up, realized my door was not latched, went downstairs to go to the bathroom and discovered the other two sitting on the table. Somehow they'd managed to open the bathroom door and then my bedroom door.

Yesterday, I woke up with a splitting headache and spent most of the day curled up in bed, sleeping. There was some more crap, but honestly, at this point, I don't even remember because it was three solid days of ugly. Ugly people...I kept thinking of Caliban and how he used to talk about how people would throw shit at you. Today, I still slept quite a bit but I'm happy to say that the headache is gone. I did have a run in with stupid though. Nick Gibson unblocked me so that he could refund me the $15 that I spent on his Kickstarter (see previous post about trouble in the industry). When I told him that I didn't accept money through Facebook, he told me too bad and that now me and my cronies could stop harassing him. The word cronies was quite the hit when I posted the screenshot. People wanted to know how they could become a crony. So much so that it's spawned a Facebook group for fans of me. I couldn't help but laugh at that one. While there are some serious assholes in the industry, there are just as many amazing people.

Now, I'm days behind because of all of this..and I probably still need a good and proper cry. I forgot to mention that DHS determined that I make too much money to get less than $200/mo in food stamps. I made $7600 in 9 months. It's insane and one more level of stress to deal with, but since they only work 9am-3pm, it'll have to be dealt with another day.

Right now, I need a good cuddle in the man's arms and a chance to unwind...since the first won't be coming for god knows how long, I'll just have to put in another movie and try to relax...

Weekly Update: Soooo Sleepy...

I think that I forgot that socializing takes energy. On Saturday, Roger and I drove two hours to attend the birthday party of the son of some friends of mine. We were there for hours, socializing and hanging out. Yesterday, I took two naps. Today I just want to either go pick up our kittens (more on that in a bit) or nap. I don't want to work. I don't want to be productive. I just want to lay here.

Now...kittens...Some may know that about 19 months ago, I had to have my cat, Byron, put to sleep. That boy was my best friend. I've not really gotten over him being gone. We have four other cats, one of which I got after he passed. I've not had any real desire to get more. After all, doesn't five cats make you a crazy cat lady? Then, someone I know posted about how they had a mama barn cat that had gotten hit by a car, leaving five black kittens behind. They brought them into their house and were taking care of them until they were ready to find homes. I felt my heart getting all soft and mushy. I have a weakness for kittens. I have a bigger weakness for black kittens. Byron was all black and the best cat I've ever had. I decided that I wanted one of these kittens. I didn't tell anyone for a couple of weeks. I thought maybe I could talk myself out of it. I couldn't. So, I told my youngest. He seemed okay with it. I told a close friend who said he thought it was a good idea. Even my oldest just kind of sighed. Then, I thought maybe I should get two...they're already bonded and I'm not sure if my older cats will want to play, etc with little ones. Roger agreed so long as certain things were done around the house before I went to get them.

I'm not going to lie. I paid him and his brother to get those things done. Well, I paid Ben and he helped. I've paid Roger and he's mostly watching YouTube videos on my tv. He needs to get up and get stuff done. I heard from the guy with the kittens today and it sounds like they're ready to go, but his wife's dad is dying so he's not pushing her on rehoming them. I get that. I wish he'd just tell her that he has someone coming to pick out a couple of them and then I could go get them. As it is, they took in two abandoned kittens last week. That's a minimum of seven kittens in their house. I don't know if they have other pets. Seven kittens is a lot of chaos.

Anyway, that's the kitten thing. As for me...I'm super tired, super want to take a nap, and am feeling a bit down but nothing like I was. I hope that's a good sign that things are looking up. I guess only time will tell...

Weekly Update: Better

I can't believe that it's Monday again. I look back over the past week and it seems like nothing happened...maybe that's what's caused the days to blend together. Maybe I should rephrase that. So much has been happening in the US and around the world. Not much has happened in my personal sphere.

I don't really want to get into the country's events. I'll just say that they've horrified me and overwhelmed me. I can't wrap my brain or my heart around what I'm seeing. I don't understand how anyone could treat others with less than dignity and respect. Even living in the middle of nowhere, it's affected me and those around me. My children see it happening and are equally horrified. I have to explain to my special needs son what's happening in a way that he can understand. It's a scary time and I encourage you to stand up, be heard, but also, please be as safe as you possibly can.

As for personally? Let's see...last Tuesday Ben and I went to see his orthotist who repaired his afos for him. So, after probably four to five months, he's back wearing those. He starts physical therapy later this month and I truly hope that it helps him. His muscles have tightened up and he really needs for them to loosen up some.

Wow...was my week really that dead? I worked on a new client's book. It was tougher than usual because the humidity and everything going on was just sucking the focus out of me. The village decided to replace all the drain pipes on my block so that was fun. For a couple of days I had an 8' trench in front of my house and across my driveway. Today they were out packing down the dirt and it's so dry that I honestly went outside concerned that something was on fire. Turns out it was just the dust clouds.

Oh! Something good...I did an interview yesterday and while I have no idea how many people were tuned in, I had a good time and plan to do another one next month just 9 days before my book releases. Speaking of that, in August, I might have an in-store reading/signing. Someone that I know is opening a pop culture collectible store front and he'd like me to come out. I'm a bit concerned with the up front costs involved (table covering, books, print outs, crayons, etc) but I have to dive in at some point and take advantage of every opportunity that comes along. My goal is to do library readings, check into bookstores in the area, and eventually start doing conventions. I have friends who want to table near me which will be fun...of course, none of them are local. Still, what better reason to travel then to spend time with friends and sell a few books along the way?

I guess that's it, guys. I know that this wasn't an exciting update, but it really was a dull yet overwhelming week. The highlight (other than the interview) was taking an afternoon and doing nothing more than building Lego. I could spend a lot of days doing that...

So, for now, take care of yourselves and each other. Stand up for the good and don't tolerate the bad. Wear your masks, wash your hands, and be safe....

Weekly Update: Another Day at Home

Just when I think I'm handling all of this well, something happens that reminds me that I'm more sensitive right now to certain things than I might be otherwise. Yesterday, I popped into a friend's livestream. Nothing exciting there, right? Well, this is a friend who I'd been trying to have a one on one video chat with for a few days and he was always too busy to do it. Then, when I joked in the chat that I had been hoping to have that chat with him, he pointed out (to everyone) that this was a chat and it didn't always have to be about one on one and I was selfish. Now, he was joking. I knew he was joking, but it still hurt enough that I was in tears. I knew I was being sensitive and yet, maybe, at the same time, he was being insensitive. He talked about how if anyone needed something just like what I'd asked for, just to let him know. How come then he wasn't making it happen for me? I dunno. I don't want to dwell too much on it. It's probably best to just move on. Still though, it did show me that I'm lonelier than I realized and missing human connection.

I haven't seen "the man" since August and with everything that's going on, there's no knowing when we'll see each other again. With the stress of everything, he's gone quieter than usual and that's wearing a bit on me too. I'm not upset with him, just missing him tons. Our anniversary is coming up in July and it's looking less and less like we'll spend it together. I want us to be safe but man, this sucks.

One thing that doesn't suck are my kids. This weekend, at least for one night, I'll have them both here. It's so tough with everyone's schedule, but Roger will be finished with exams and Ben has a four day weekend off from work. I'll be picking Ben up on Thursday and then Roger on Saturday. I don't know if Dillon will come. I thought he was going to fit in with our family, but he doesn't seem to have much interest. That's his choice but I had hoped for something different.

So, I'll have the kids and that's something I'm looking forward to. I want to do a bit more house tidying before they get here. I'm really proud of what I have done, but I need to go back to former rooms and do maintenance. I don't know if I'll get much past there because I've had quite a few client jobs come in and I need to focus on those. I'm really thankful that I'm still working. So many folks aren't. Still, another stimulus isn't something I'd say no to. Money disappears quickly when you're feeding more than just yourself.

Now, that's a lot of paragraphs about me. How are all of you doing? Are you hanging in there? What good has happened for you during all of this? Please don't hesitate to leave a comment or reach out. After all, we're all in this together.

Weekly Update: Tired

Holy crow, y'all. I'm tired. That's the only way to describe how I feel right now. It's the kind of tired that affects everything. I'm hyper aware of what's happening around me. I'm super duper emotional. It sucks. Oh my god, it sucks so much.

I'm actually at a NaNo write in right now, writing this. I know, it's not a novel, but it's words and words count. I needed to do this today because tomorrow I'm picking up the oldest and taking him to pretty much finish up his holiday shopping. Yeah, I know. He's like done. It's crazy. As for me, I don't even know if we'll have a Christmas at my house this year. I've had zero projects come in and that means zero income. Zero income equals zero spending money for presents.

I know that it's really about time together and all of that, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to have things for my kids. They're still teenagers, not grown ups. I don't know yet what I'll do. I keep hoping that something will come through. I'm not giving up all hope.

Did I mention I'm tired? heh...Yep, that just popped into my head again. I am worn the heck out. I'm now on day 26 of a heavy period. How heavy? A week ago I bought a package of pads that advertised it was a 3.5 month supply. I'm stopping by the store tonight to buy more. Yeah...that heavy. Gross, huh? Super gross. I love being a girl, but right now, I don't love having a uterus that's acting cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

That's another side effect of all of this. I have a constant desire to eat. That's not helpful when you need to lose weight, DHS has cut you back to $16 in grocery money each month, and you have a kid coming over that you need to feed. Yep. Yippee!

The odd thing? Even with all of this going on, I'm in good spirits for the most part. Sure, I have moments where I break down crying, but if you look at my mood journal, you'd see mostly average days. Average is good. I like average.

Somehow we'll get through this rough patch. I always do. I have zero idea how this time, but hey, that's okay...that's life, right?

Now, back to proofing my children's anthology! I'm still waiting for Nick to send me the notes to Nevermore so I'm not sure what the timeline is for that. I had kind of hoped by the end of the year, but that's looking very unlikely. If I can manage to track him down, that's something else to talk to him about. Somehow I'm suspecting it's not his top priority project. Ahh well...the life of a writer is so glamorous, eh?

Time to focus on what I can focus on and keep going.
Love you all!

Weekly Update: Looking Forward

Isn't it funny how a simple change of perspective can change something so dramatically? A week ago (well, a week ago yesterday), I sent Nick the draft of Nevermore. Ever since then I've worked at looking forward...the next project, the project after that...and not dwelling on what he was doing with the book. Yesterday, he sent me a message saying that he was halfway through and be warned, there would be notes. That icy clutch of anxiety hit me and I had to remind myself to breathe. Then, I started thinking about it.

Why was I so anxious? The book wasn't utter garbage, I knew that much. Nick loves me (as close friends do) and wasn't going to be cruel. Maybe I was looking at this the wrong way. Perhaps instead of paranoid, I needed to be excited. I know that's a huge flip, but let me explain. I could be excited because I wrote that book all by myself. It's mine and I accomplished that. I could be excited because whatever notes he leaves, I can take or leave...but more importantly, I can use them to improve the book. I don't have an official editor, but I need to look at Nick like I do my doctor...she's there to help me, not tear me down. We're a team. Nick and I are a team and a dang good one. Why be afraid of that?

Once I made that decision, I calmed back down and was able to focus on working on other things that needed doing. I'm still not caught up after a weekend of mostly being gone (NaNo Thursday, writing and concert Friday, NaNo write in Saturday, Grand Rapids Comic Con and NaNo write in Sunday), but I'm making good progress. There's always things to do though! Laundry, for example. Sheesh! At least the moving about keeps me warm during this snow/cold snap that we're having.

Let's see...other than that...I suppose things are good. I've still not had any new work come in and I'm concerned since the holidays are coming up. I don't want to cancel Christmas for my three kids. That would be a huge disappointment to all of us. Hopefully something shifts my way. I'm always hopeful.

The house has been at a bit of a standstill but I'm hoping to have more energy to tackle that soon. It's tough when my body is at day 21 of its period. I'm still cramping and feeling just run down. I can only do what I can while my body pitches a fit.

I think that's it! Nothing much has changed in the past week. I'm still fighting my way through NaNo, trying to be a good mom, and just looking forward...

Weekly Update: NaNo!

I can't believe that it's November again. A year ago, I was shivering in my car waiting for Roger to get out of sax lessons. Today I was talking to him about college and how he has a concert on Friday. (Note to self: Don't forget to get your ticket!) A lot has changed over the past year. I've changed over the past year.

NaNo has not changed over the past year. It's still 50,000 words in 30 days. What's changed for me is my focus. A week ago, my focu was to finish Nevermore, the novel that I started writing nearly two years ago. Yesterday, on day 3 of NaNo, I finished it. That's right. After nearly 2 years, I finished writing my very first novel. That's pretty huge, right?

It was a moment of excitement and the sadness as I realized that I couldn't share that with the man. It was the first thing that I wanted to do. I messaged him, but he was too busy to open messages and so, in the end, I posted it to Instagram and shared it to Facebook. Some people on Facebook liked the post which made me feel good, but really what I wanted was a celebration. I wanted people to comment acknowledging how big of a deal this was to me. Nobody really did, but maybe they don't realize just how huge this is.

But, I did it. The girl who they said would never be anything or do anything wrote a novel all by herself and damn it, I'm proud of that. I'm going to say it again... I wrote a book and damn it, I'm proud of that. I did it. Me.

Now that it's done and off to be double checked before revisions, I'm going to be working on writing some children's stories. I used to love telling the boys stories at bedtime and who knows, maybe someday they'll read these stories to my grandkids. No time soon though! We'll let others read them first.

For now though, it's time to flip the laundry and take some deep breaths because life can be overwhelming sometimes.

PS Two weeks of a period is two weeks too many...talk about overwhelming!

Dipping and Birthdays

Okay, it isn't my birthday. Not until tomorrow. However, it's really affecting me today. You see, I guess at some point, I stopped feeling loved or cared about and my birthday was a solid reflection of that. After my divorce, nobody paid any attention to it really. Well, that's not true. I had one friend who did. I guess I started seeing my birthday as some kind of indicator of whether or not I deserved to remain on this planet.  I can't believe I'm writing about this. I don't think I've ever fully told anyone why my birthday matters so much to me...

Anyway, some years were bad...for my 30th, I was raped by someone I trusted. For my 35th, someone threw a birthday party for me that nobody showed up to. Others were pretty good...one year, I got three or four cards and half a dozen presents. That was a really good year. I felt so loved. This year? Well, my birthday is tomorrow and there have been no cards or gifts that have arrived.

In years past, this would have been an issue for me starting a week to two weeks before my birthday. I'd have been checking the mail box every day, even checking my Amazon wish list to see if anything had been bought. This year, I made it to two days ago for the mail box and today for the depression. That's progress, but it's still hard. Part of me screams...I just want to be loved. Why can't you show me that you care? A card would cost as little as $1.50 to buy and send, aren't I worth your time? Blah.

Social media hurts in these situations. People post about their birthdays...the dinners, the cakes, the cards, the presents...and it hurts. People also post to my wall and feel like that's enough. It's nice, especially if we aren't close, but it's not the same as knowing that someone took the time to make a real effort. Ugh. I just flipped to Facebook to answer a message and what do I see? Someone's birthday with dinner out, balloons, cake, and presents. See? That's just what I mean. I'm happy for the person, but it's like a stab in the heart to me.

I know, deep down, that I shouldn't take one day and use it as a determining factor of my worth. I know that I shouldn't, but still, there's that piece of me...that really mean voice...that tells me that nobody loves me, they love what I can do for them, for how I can make them feel, but that they don't love me. I hate that voice. She's a bitch. She's just plain mean.

So, today, I'm sad. I'm next to in tears sad and it's not really anybody's fault. It's this whole birthday thing. I wish I could hate birthdays but I don't. I love them. I love celebrating the days that my favorite people joined the world on this planet. Somehow, I even love mine. That makes zero sense, but it's true. Maybe it's the part of me that's happy to be alive. I'm not really sure. I'm not really sure that this post makes any amount of sense, but here it is...Love to all who are struggling...

Little Victories = Big Anxiety

They say that the smallest victories can lead to the biggest results or that success is just a series of small victories. That maybe true, but for me, right now, my series of small successes/victories has led to some seriously high anxiety. 

Let me tell you about my week...

On March 28th, I signed my first ever comic contract. It was for a book that I've already done two issues on, but to be asked to sign a contract to make it official an all of that felt like a really big deal and it made me feel good that the creator really appreciates the work that I do for him.

On April 2nd, I spent all day, literally, creating a resume and cover letter and then sending them off for a job that could be a good thing for me. I haven't had a job outside of the house in twenty years and my hands were shaking as I sent the email. The idea of working outside of the house is scary for me. The outside world can be scary for me, but I did it anyway. I pushed past the anxiety at least to a point where I could send it.

Today, I went to the dentist and made it through an appointment without being given nitrous. Again, to most people, not a huge deal, but I get horrible anxiety for a lot of medical things. At my surgery consult last month, I actually caught myself disassociating while he was speaking to me. Today, I got through the appointment. I was lightheaded when I sat up from the anxiety, but I got through it.

Last week, I came up with this idea for an anthology and people really seemed to like it, including someone who is so good at putting together anthologies and who is a talented creative in his own right. Honestly, I was in shock. I guess I don't put a lot of value on my "silly ideas".  I'm slowly getting better at finding the value in what I do as a proofreader and even as a writer, but I still very much question a lot of me. Anyway, I approached this person about partnering with me on the project and to my surprise (and insane level of excitement), he was willing and seemed eager. Fast forward to today when I signed a contract with him to go ahead and start planning the project. That's when reality slapped me hard in the face. I can't finance a project like this. Heck, I'm currently living without a stove/oven in my house because I can't afford to replace them. We won't talk about how I have no hot water because I haven't been able to dig out of the chaos my mental state has left me in.

Anyway, I had to be up front with him about that. I mean, partnerships are built on honest communication, right? I had to have faith that it would be okay...and it is, really. I have to keep telling myself that over and over again. It's okay. It will get made. So it has to be put off for an indefinite amount of time because he's awesome and amazing and has two years worth of launches to get through, but he will come back to you. He won't forget about this project or you. Just because something is a huge step for you doesn't mean that it is to everyone.

It's not his fault. He's being real with me. He doesn't pull punches and that's not always easy for me, but he's not being mean or hurtful. It just is what it is. It's tough though.

All of this has left me wound tighter than....umm...something creative that gets wound up...It's hard not to take that leftover anxious energy and spiral down into some deep, dark place. Like I can hear that voice in my head telling me that because I'm such a fuck up, I don't have any money and I'm going to be stuck in this place forever...this place where I can't get a foothold to get out, where I'm going to die without anyone knowing who I am, where I will forever be this worthless thing that ruins lives and who never should have been born.  This place that says all of my victories of the past week mean nothing.

I referred to it earlier as the voices of family past and that's what it is. It's my mother's voice. It's the neglect of my father. It's the voice of the man who raped me. It's the voice of every single person who has ever abused or neglected me. Sometimes small victories lead to big anxiety and that's where I am tonight. It's nobody's fault and I have one of the best cheerleaders on the planet telling me that he's proud of me and he just wants me to be proud of me too. I've made big steps for me and it doesn't matter if those were easy steps for anyone else, they're big for me. I really have gotten lucky and have some great people who support me, who don't berate me when I'm feeling like this, but remind me that they think I'm awesome and capable of awesome things.

So...before I leave you all tonight, I want to update a section that I put on this blog a month or so ago...

Current Weight: 306 (-7.5)
Goal Weight: A lot less ...like 150 pounds less.
Days in a row taking meds: 34

Merry Christmas?

Merry Christmas? Happy holidays?

I find it fairly fascinating as to which posts get any attention and which don't. Maybe one day I'll stop and figure out why it is how it is. Not today though.

Today is Christmas day and I'm sitting on my couch, surrounded by chaos, and completely alone. There were no presents to open, no special breakfast. Just me and ....well, nothing. Just me. Just me and it's hard.

The boys aren't here. They weren't here yesterday either. All of our traditions ...well, none of them happened. I've tried to be brave. I've tried to convince myself that it's okay. After all, they'll be here tonight. My brain and heart keep screaming, "But it's not the same!" I can't really argue because they're right. It's not the same. We don't do Christmas pjs anymore. We don't read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. Those are gone the way of the dodo. Now, they're practically grown up and those things seem silly to them. Work schedules kept them from being here last night so our Christmas Eve traditions...the few that were left...didn't happen. Work schedules will keep them from being here until past dinner tonight.

I feel as if I'm whining. I mean, there are worse things in the world, right? Nobody has died. They're getting spoiled at their father's house. Is this just me feeling sorry for myself? I'm always afraid of that. I'm afraid to tell anyone that I'm really struggling seeing all of the happy family pictures and amazing gifts that other people have. I'm afraid that they'll tell me I'm selfish for wanting someone to send me a present...something wrapped up and picked our just for me. It's happened before when I said that I had been checking the mailbox for cards and gifts. I was told that if I want something I should just go out and buy it.

That's not the same though, is it? Besides I don't have money to buy for myself. Every penny that I had went to getting things for the boys, sending out holiday cards to put smiles on other people's faces, and buying things like cat food and toilet paper. Is it so wrong of me to want/need to feel loved today?

I see all of the memes about reaching out to people today to make sure they're okay. Nobody has asked if I'm okay and why would they? They know that I'm most likely not and who wants to bring down their fun, special times with someone who is currently sitting on their couch crying because nobody went to Walmart and bought a $5 Lego pack and mailed it to her?

I'm trying to put on a brave face. I'm saying Merry Christmas and all of that. I'm liking people's photos because I really, truly am happy that they're having wonderful family and love filled days. It's not that I'm not happy for them. I am. I'm just also really, really sad for me. I just feel so very, very alone. No presents, no holiday breakfast, or special dinner...no friends invited me to join them. Hell, not even what remains of my family. In fact, I've had gifts here for my sister and her children for over a year.  There's been no effort made in that time.

Today I realize why so many people kill themselves at the holidays. That feeling of alone seeps deep into you and twists everything. No matter what I do, I can't seem to shake it. Somewhere a part of me knows that people care. The other voice is louder though. It's the one screaming, "If they cared so much, why hasn't your phone rang? Why has nobody texted? Why did nobody invite you over? Why didn't you have one single thing to open this morning?"

Still, that other voice is in there and I'm holding tight to it. I'm holding tight to the knowledge that in 8 hours or so, my living room will be filled with the chaos of wrapping paper and the sounds of my boys as they look through what they got this year. I'm holding on, even though it's hard, and going to go nuke a couple of hot dogs for lunch. Festive, no? Merry Christmas.

Fighting to Keep Fighting

Guys, I'm tired. No, it's more than that. I'm done. I'm out of whatever it is that keeps us going. Today it took everything I had to get out of bed, to go to the bathroom, and to nuke a frozen pizza. I wish that were an exaggeration and maybe it is since I'm sitting here writing and that has to take something too.

It's been a long time since I went from "Yeah, I'm doing okay." to "I am the most worthless human being on the planet." in the space of maybe an hour, but that's just what's happened.

Yesterday, when I left my house, I was proud of myself. I'd gotten quite a bit of work done on a project for a client, I'd shaved my face (thanks pcos) and my armpits, I'd put on deodorant, gotten dressed, brushed my teeth, fed the outside cat, brought the trash can back up to the house...I'd done all of that. I was proud of me.  I picked up my oldest, we stopped into the dollar store, and then on to the high school basketball games.

We sat through the first two games and my oldest got up to go say hi to some friends and was stopped by a teacher. I don't know the exact conversation but it basically boiled down to how the teacher had noticed we hadn't paid to get in and while it was okay for my son not to pay, it wasn't okay for me. I got the impression that it wasn't said nicely. Honestly, it was an accidental oversight. While he was in school, we never paid to get into the games. He was the team manager/filmographer and since he's handicapped and needs a ride everywhere, they always just let me in for free too. Out of habit, we came in the way we always had and they don't have a ticket seller at that entrance. My son was upset which made me upset. Still, I tried to keep it together because if I don't, he doesn't.

From there, it went downhill. I discovered that my front headlight is burnt out. I'm sure it's just the bulb. Then, as I was driving home after dropping my son off, and realizing that there's no way I can afford to have it replaced right now and now I'm super anxious because I could get pulled over and there's even less of a way for me to pay for a ticket, I realized that my insurance is coming out on Friday and I'm $101 short. With the chaos of this month, it just completely went out of my head to make sure that I had enough money in the account. I had the money in another account and used it to pick up some extra items that we needed. I just didn't remember.

I felt stupid and stupid led to feeling like a failure which led to feeling pointless. It's not that I don't try, but I never succeed. I want to be better, but I just keep failing. I swear I'm trying and it's been better, I think...or I thought. Now, because of this one thing, I just don't know. I feel like I've failed everyone. I can't seem to handle the basics of life sometimes..most of the time...How can I ever hope to get to the point where I'm off welfare and have a sustainable lifestyle if I can't even remember to brush my teeth every day?

I cried myself to sleep last night and today all I can do is sit here and cry. I've failed again. I've let myself and everyone down because I couldn't remember something so simple as making sure I had the funds to pay a bill that I have to pay every single month. There's more but there's no point in spewing it out here. I'm sorry for being such a failure at life....

Safe Places Are Hard To Find

If you're someone who has social anxiety, depression, anxiety, PTSD, been raped and any other number of things that leaves you needing a safe place sometimes, you also know that sometimes it can be really hard to find them.

Over the years, I've had a few different ones ...my friend Dave's house in Vermont, until he got married and now it wasn't just him there. My friend Rob's place in Canada...until he had to deal with some life stuff of his own. I could list more but even just with two, you get the idea. Except, I'm going to list one more because really this last one is what this post is all about.

Now stick with me here...I know what I'm about to say is going to sound...well, crazy...but I promise you that it isn't. Comic conventions. Comic conventions have been my safe place for years. They're often filled with people that I know, like, and respect. Some of them I'd even consider to be friends. They're also full of strangers, but usually strangers who love the same things that I love and sometimes, I feel safe in a space full of people I don't know. Because of the nature of the event, I can get lost in a crowd. There's no pressure to be "on" or "happy" or anything. I can just be. If I need a break, I can find a corner and sit and watch the people. I love to watch people.

Over the years, I've met a lot of people at shows. Some I've enjoyed, some I've been glad to avoid later. That's just the way of life and personalities. Unfortunately, one of those that I've met and enjoyed has been revealed to be a rather horrible human being.  It's come out that he's treated women rather horribly. He's pressured them into doing things that they didn't really want to do. He's used his position within not only a place that he used to work, but also his position within the industry to lure women in and then mistreat them. I don't mean that he beat them, but sometimes the scars of emotional abuse and sexual misconduct (not the right phrase, but this is so hard to write that I can't let myself get hung up on phrasing right now) outlast bruises and broken bones.

As a woman, learning of his behavior upset me. It ought to upset everyone. But, under all of that was a feeling of deep unease and I've had a tough time figuring out why until last night. I was reading through a post written by someone calling out this man and supporting the art crew that had been working with him on a very popular title. The art crew chose to walk away from the book because they refuse to reward his heinous behavior. I applaud them for that and their actions led to the post I was reading. The more that I read, the more I found myself feeling uneasy, unhappy, and I hate to use the word...but triggered.

It got to the point where I had to shut down my laptop and step away. It took me a while, but I finally figured out what was causing it. I've known this man from the convention circuit for as long as I've known him. Conventions were/are a safe place and now he might be there. Granted, I'm not the type of woman that has ever had a real problem with sexual harassment or come ons...I'm just not the skinny, beautiful type. I've never had a problem with him approaching me this way and I doubt I ever would. Still, now that I know what's lurking in the dark, it's made me edgy whenever I think about the one that I'm supposed to go to in March. I was looking forward to possibly seeing him there. I was excited about going. I was insanely excited. Now? Now, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what's in the shadows. I'm afraid knowing that I'll be traveling in and out of the area every day on a lightrail for an hour. Before, I was excited for that very same travel. It's always been a place to people watch and to meet new people.

My reality is that he's made a safe place feel not so safe. My reality is that I don't know if I want to go now. My brain has gone into "What if..." mode.  An event that I was so excited and proud (I was awarded a pro level badge this year which is a huge deal to me.) to be attending now has me wondering if anyone would notice if I just stayed home. I'm sad. I'm sad for me. I'm sad for every single woman that he has ever been in contact with. I'm sad for the industry because he's left another dark mark on what's beautiful.

Do you know what else I am? I'm angry. I'm angry that he's done this to me and to others. I'm angry that a grown ass man doesn't know that this is beyond wrong. I'm angry that I'm feeling as vulnerable and weak as I am. Anger is good. Anger is cleansing. Anger keeps me moving forward when I want to hide under the blankets.

I'm also proud. I'm proud of the woman who stood up and told her story. I don't know that I ever have. I'm proud of the industry professionals who have said no more. We will not tolerate this in our midst. I'm proud of the store where a lot of this story took place because they've declared that not only will they no longer stock anything that he's worked on, they're working with this woman to build policies so that nothing like this ever happens again. I'm proud of "my people".  Those are the people that I'm going to be looking towards as I work towards this trip because those are the people that I want to be around.

So Many Things

So Many Things

Get ready for a very real post. Not to say that any of my posts are fake but this one is pure free writing and there's a chance more could come out then I'm planning. I guess we'll find out together!

A couple of months ago, I wrote about how things had to change for me and for my weight. Tonight, I ate oreos for dinner. Not an entire row or anything, but enough. Why? A combination of reasons:

1. I don't have any money to go and buy groceries before at least Wednesday. That leaves me with whatever is on hand and the two bag meals that are in my freezer to eat.
2. I'm overwhelmed and the thought of attempting to put together anything that isn't an open and eat it package has me hiding.

Why am I so overwhelmed? Let me count the ways....So Many Things...

My house is at hoarder status and I have a furnace that doesn't work. While we don't need it yet, we will soon and due to the condition of the house, I cannot let the landlord know so they can get someone out to fix it. 

In an attempt to help with this, I spent 5 hours tackling a major portion of our living room the other day. Since then, I've been coughing up a storm. I can only assume that I inhaled way too much dust. I pretty much have to wait it out, but it's holding me up from getting down on the floor to tackle the next section. It also makes it hard to sleep which leads me to...

I haven't slept well in about 3.5 weeks because late on August 21st, I got a phone call that my youngest son had been in a car accident. He walked away with just bumps and bruises after his suv rolled, but seeing the accident scene and knowing how easily I could have lost him has been a serious ptsd trigger for me. I have trouble getting to sleep before the early hours of the morning and then my body just wants to sleep all day to make up for it. It's slowly improving but it's led to the fact that...

I'm falling further and further behind on things. I currently have 7 books waiting for proofreading and I'm about 3-6 months behind on the last book on The Tether Saga. The only bonus, if you want to consider it that, is that the co-author of the first two books and the man that owns all of the rights to this series hasn't spoken to me in about six weeks. In fact, I'm fairly certain that he has me muted on FB messenger which is where he wants to communicate. This has added another level of stress to things as it makes me feel as if everything is up in the air regarding that.

Also, since I haven't made any money off of any of the three Tether books that I've already worked on/written, money is a bit of an issue. Well, let's face it, money has always been an issue. I gave up on the idea of working outside of the house due to my own health issues (mental and other) as well as my boys needing me to be available. We get by due to the generosity of a friend who helps me cover things...but suddenly there are more things than usual and it's freaking me out. My current list of things I need money for?

• Photos of the boys from the photographer who shoots sporting events at the school. He has amazing shots of them and due to their dad no longer doing school photos, I really want these to help record all of the awesome things they've worked so hard at for the past 4 years. (Cost for all of them? About $100)
• Bills (duh, right?)
• Cover for my Kindle that the boys went together to buy me before the screen gets ruined.
• Trash bags...a lot of trash bags...
• Roger's orchestra fees ...they more than doubled this year and this is a program that he needs to be in. (Cost including all the gas to get him there and back? $1000)

There are other things, like NaNo coming up with classes next month. The classes and then write ins are free, but they're 45 minutes away and at a restaurant...so gas and food. If I dwell on this, I can think of more things...but let's move on...

To what, you ask? Well, that's the problem. I'm so overwhelmed and I'm so frustrated that I'm overwhelmed. I feel as if all I ever do here is write about negative things. I don't think I'm a negative person, but you'd never guess that here, would you? I feel like I need to apologize to all of you for not being this uplifting beacon of hope. I wish that I were, but right now, it feels as if the universe is squashing me.  

When I decided to start tackling my weight issues, things seemed so much more even keel. Then, I decided to face my fears and start tackling my dental issues. Now, I'm sinking but still trying to be all brave with things. I have yet another dental appointment tomorrow morning. This is my 4th in less than 2 months. It sucks but I'm more afraid that if I don't go, I'll never get those problems fixed. As for the rest of it? I just don't know...

I've spent hours trying to figure out a way to make everything better, to make it easier. I've thought about walking away from social media and blogging until I get things under control, but it gets mighty lonely living in the boondocks without any friends. So, I threw that idea out. What I really need to do is clear my plate, but that's tough when some things just need to all be done at once. I can't not do the dental stuff, I can't not work on the house, I can't not get the proofreading done...Those all have to be done right now. I've considered taking a week at a time to dedicate to each of these things..well, not the dental work. Can you imagine going to the dentist every day for a week? That'll cause nightmares...

My current thought? 

Daily "themes"....

Monday - Site work...this has been this way for a few years and I need to keep this routine.

Tuesday - Proofreading before I have to drive the youngest 90 minutes for his sax lesson.

Wednesday - House, focusing first on the living room, then the bathroom, kitchen, laundry room, and studio.

Thursday - Proofreading

Friday - Combination day of light house/football/review work

Saturday - Day of rest (plus things like marching band competitions for the next month)

Sunday - Planning for coming week

Do you notice what isn't anywhere on this schedule? Writing. For the time being, the book has to be on the back burner. I'm not happy about this, but if I want to get through the rest, I don't have much of a choice. If any of you here are fans of the series, I pray that you can be patient. I promise that I will get back to it as soon as possible. The latest? November for NaNo. I'm not starting something new until this is totally finished. 

I suppose the real question is...will this work? The answer? I have no idea. All I can do is try. I can keep trying to be in bed trying to sleep by 2 am and work that back. I can keep sitting and just breathing when it would be easier to have a meltdown. I can appreciate every single moment that I have with both of my boys and not feel guilty when I put everything else to the side to watch tv with them. I can help my youngest make final decisions as to what colleges he's about to apply to. I can do my best to just keep going. 

It may be one day at a time, one hour at a time, or one breath at a time...but I'm going to do my best to just keep going. Somehow, I will handle so many things.

Sick of Being Sick

 I've lost track of how much I've said this lately.

I know that I told y'all that I was going to get my act together and start posting weight updates weekly here. I have totally failed at that and I feel an incredible amount of guilt for letting not just you, but me down too. The problem is that my body is letting me down right, left, and center.

Where to start? I know that I posted about going to the dentist last month. The end of June? Anyway, on July 6th, I went and had my first two extractions done. Thanks to the nitrous, I survived. After, I had to go to Walmart.  Why? Because due to laws, they can't give you pain med prescriptions in advance. I'll let you imagine how pleasant of an experience it was to sit there for an hour, starting to drool blood, and waiting for this prescription. Knowing that people were judging me either for how I looked or for the reason why once I explained it to them. I know it shouldn't matter, but when you're already drained emotionally from the process that got you there, it's hard.

The recovery wasn't tragic, but I certainly didn't feel good. Then, just when I was starting to eat real food again and my stomach was starting to recover from the minimal food/motrin combination, I developed another infection. They don't want to bother with an antibiotic, they just want to move up the date to extract the rest of my bad teeth. So, I've been sick with that for over a week now. Low grade fevers, things not tasting good, upset stomach...and the only way to clear it up is to put myself through what I just got out of...which means another week's setback.

I keep telling myself that it will be worth it once it's done, but it's so frustrating. I just want to be healthy. I want to have energy. I want to be able to get things done. I keep falling further and further behind. Even the absolutely must dos are only getting done barely.

As if that wasn't enough, there's been some problems that involve my ex and his wife so I can't talk about them here. It's too public. Let's just say that it's spiked my stress levels insanely high over the past couple of weeks.  The combination of all of this plus a lot of little things had me run, not walk, away from social media. I just couldn't handle people. It's been a week and I'm barely sticking my toes back into that pond.

....and I just caught sight of the time. I have to go to my mammogram and get that done. This being a responsible adult thing is bullshit. I'll be back in a couple of hours to finish writing this...which you won't even realize the break except that I just wrote it...lol! ....

....and I'm back! I was squished and squashed and made to hold my breath, but I guess it's okay because she gave me a single square of chocolate afterwards. I'd have rather had a sticker.

So, I've been off of social media for about a week now and while I miss people, I find that I have a very low tolerance for them. As I told someone...For those familiar with the spoon theory, I'm out of every utensil in the drawer and I'm stabbing at things with a stick that is vaguely shaped like a chopstick. It is getting better in some ways and very much not in others.

A reminder for us all.

Mostly, I'm finding myself missing certain people. The problem is that these people aren't accessible to me and they're what I've dubbed my safe places. They're people that I can just be with. Having them no longer accessible to me makes things worse in some ways. It's harder to handle everything on your own sometimes.

But,that's just what I have to do and what I'm trying to do. For this week that means making sure I have a proper shopping list to prepare for not being able to eat real food this weekend as well as my oldest being here and him needing to eat real food. It means getting myself to all of my medical appointments this week. It also means making sure that I'm where the boys need me to be. It may be a week of baby step after baby step but if that's all I can do, that's all I can.

For now I'm going to curl up with a book for a while (I'm behind on reviews) and hopefully lose myself in its pages before I start on that shopping list...

It's So Hard To Say Goodbye...

Welcome to day 2 of things stuck in my head. I don't know if all of you have read my last few posts, but if you haven't, I encourage you to go back to them. All of these are interconnected, as you will hopefully find as you read through them.

Today's topic is one that's been on my heart for a while now. I'm seeing a lot of people having to deal with others that are so toxic that it's making them either physically sick or emotionally so. I want to tell you my story.

About nearly six years ago now, I publicly declared myself an orphan which confused a lot of people. Both of my parents are alive and well. From the outside, I had always had a great family life. That was from the outside though. From the inside, things weren't so pretty. My parents abandoned me (and my sister) with my grandparents when I was very young. My father had left me with his girlfriend when I was a toddler and I was horribly physically (and emotionally) abused. My parents weren't parents. They were sperm and egg donors. Once that part was done, they wanted nothing to do with the actual raising and effort it takes to raise a child.

Fast forward a lot of years and my grandfather had died and my grandmother was very sick and in the hospital. I was called by my mother to rush up there because she may not make it. I did and that's when the guilt laying started. She wanted me to somehow fix everything but there was no way that I could. My grandmother did get better and was sent to a home to rehab. During this time, it was discovered that her house was filled with bugs and that she was a semi-hoarder. My mother and my uncles turned to me and expected me to drop everything to clear the house. The problem? I had two small children at the time and it was summer break. My uncle would guilt me into helping by throwing out how she'd raised me and done everything for me and yet wouldn't allow my children into the house and would tell me how if the police stopped by, I would lose my children. I couldn't afford daycare and their father (who I was divorced from) worked all day. I couldn't win. My one uncle, the one I thought was reasonable, wouldn't stand up for me and bowed to whatever his younger brother wanted. I couldn't win. So, I did the house...and once she got home, I visited whenever I could.

Fast forward from July when she came home to March when she died...as soon as she died, it fell on me to start going through the hundreds of boxes that we had stacked in the garage when we cleared out the house. It was my job to be there every weekend...oh, and I had to create piles. Trash, donate, and if there was any chance it was worth anything, it had to be set aside because my "family" was selling off anything of value, even if my grandmother had wanted someone to have it. They tried to sell me an antique desk until they realized they'd have to do repairs to sell it. After that, I could just have it.

I lasted until May...at that point, I walked away. I walked away from that entire family and other than twice when I had to, I haven't spoken to any of them since. Was it an easy decision? No. I had every social standard whispering in my ear that family is forever, that you only get one set of parents, and everything else we've ever been taught about family. Was it the right decision? Yes. I discovered a couple of years later that I have PTSD that began when I was a toddler and was only added to by my "family".

It's not just family though. Sometimes you have to walk away from others that you care about and that you love because they've just become toxic in your life. I have one friend that I have to do this with. We were once very close but in the past year or so, he's turned into someone that I no longer recognize other than a brief glimpse now and then. When I comment on a post of his on Facebook, he almost always belittles my comment or turns it somehow so I look like a bad person. It's gotten to the point where I question myself and that isn't acceptable.

I'm going to say this and I want everyone to listen....A friend is not someone who makes you feel bad about yourself or who makes you constantly question who you are as a person. That isn't a friend. Get away from it. Run. Don't walk. These people are hazardous to your health. It's going to be hard. It's going to suck. There may be tears. I know I've shed a lot of tears as I've hit the unfriend button and cut people out of my life. It's not easy. Heck, even with my parents, even though I know just how toxic they are (and what I put here was just a small taste), even though I have no idea where they live, how they are, etc ....the fantasy of having proper grandparents for my children lures me in and every so often I reconsider. Then, I remember that my own children asked if they had to have them as friends on Facebook or talk to them. They will never be the grandparents that I wanted for my children and if I want to be a grandparent to my future grandchildren, I can't expose my own children to that.

It's incredibly hard to say goodbye to yesterday, to the happy memories, to any of that, but what you have to remember is that if that person isn't the person in those memories, you're not saying goodbye to your friend, but to someone who has, by choice, become toxic and a stranger. I'm not always great at following my own advice, but you have to take care of you first. Just like on an airplane with a child, you have to put your own oxygen mask on first in case of an emergency. Take with you the happy memories but leave the ugly in the past.

Just remember:
1. It's okay to feel sad that you're having to let go of either what was or what you were hoping it would be.
2. You're not melodramatic or an attention whore because you want people to invest the way you have.
3. People who are happy to have you as their friend, to do for them, aren't the people you want to have around if they're not acting like your friend or there for you when you need them.
4. Broken people are broken and it's not your job to fix them. (This one is a reminder for myself because I sometimes seem to collect these people...dang big heart!)
5. It's okay to walk away if a relationship is no longer healthy and a good thing for both people.

And most of all...remember that you're not alone. There are those who do love you and who are your friends and even your family, even if you weren't born into it.

PS I'm not going to lie. As I've typed this entire post, I've had one song in my head...and I bet you can guess which one.

Two Kinds of People

I haven't posted here in a while. On February 28th, I had sinus and tonsil surgery and it left me pretty pathetic. I managed to lose 13 pounds and gain 10 of it back. I've been struggling emotionally with being so isolated and it's led to me choosing to just shove food in my mouth at every turn to try to shove down the feelings of being so alone. Due to finances, I'm missing out on every event that would normally put me in contact with my friends. On top of that, my best friend on the planet is going through his own struggles and has basically said that he isn't ready to have me (or anyone) around as much as I would be if I came to see him. It hurts but I understand.

So, where does that leave me? Alone and with too much time on my hands to be spent thinking. One of the things I've thought about is weight loss and how when people do manage to lose large amounts of weight, they seem to end up falling into one of two categories.

Category 1: I lost huge amounts of weight, look at me. These are the people who lost the weight and perhaps due to their ongoing insecurity, make it all about them, all the time. They post tons of pictures of themselves to social media. They don't hesitate to tell you that they lost the weight and just how much. In fact, sometimes it seems like that's all they talk about.

Category 2: I lost huge amounts of weight, let me help you. These are the people who lost the weight and because they know the struggle, the journey, the importance of support, they now want to help others who are on the same journey. They're the cheerleaders, the advice givers, the mentors...

My best friend..one of the people I love the most on this planet...has lost over 200 pounds in the past couple of years. I wish I could turn to him and ask him to help me, to be my support. I could really use someone like him in my corner right now because the truth is that I feel more than a little lost and like I don't know if I can do this. I know I need to do this. I know I want to do this, but I don't know how to do this. I'm scared.

Anxiety Won

This past week was not the best week in the world for me as far as focusing on weight loss. The truth is, I don't think I really tried at all. Okay, that's not true. I did try but I didn't try near as hard as I should have. I kind of let it ride and letting it ride took me right where it should have. I gained this week.

I let the monsters win. I let the ghosts of the past win. It's frustrating when I discover that things I didn't even know were an issue pop their heads up and stop me in my path. Then, I have to deal with them before I can move on down the road again.

Let's call this week's demon...Bob...Bob is a bully and a half. He took something that I enjoyed and was excited about and turned it into a nightmare for me. Let me give you a bit of a background..I've been fighting insomnia for nearly a week now. Between Friday night and Saturday morning, I figure I got about 4 hours of sleep. I had to be up early because Ben was starting his new bowling league and I had promised I would be there. So, over to Grand Rapids I went and one of the great things about this league is that we can all bowl. So, Peter (the ex-husband), Megan (his wife), Ben, Roger and I all bowled. I'm proud to say that I've somehow improved greatly in the past ten years. Maybe all the Wii bowling? Anyway, after three games, we wrapped up and headed for lunch. It was nice seeing us all doing something together without any drama. After lunch, I headed for the skating rink. Sure, I was tired, but I was determined to improve my skating from where it'd been two weeks ago.

I paid. I got my skates on. I stood up (with the help of the wall..I still haven't figured out how to just stand up). I moved to the other end of the wall because I had decided to actually skate on the wood floor this time. My theory was that falling on wood would hurt less than on concrete if I did happen to fall. I got right to the entrance to the skating floor and I froze. I was watching all these kids go round and round like it was easy and there were two adults (one of which I know is a former derby girl) standing there watching them and I couldn't move. Suddenly, there were all these thoughts in my head... "What if I look like an idiot in front of these people? What if I fall and I can't get back up? What if I never figure this out?"  They froze me in my tracks. I wish it had stopped there. Once my anxiety kicked in, it went even further. "What if I can't figure this out and I look like a fool in front of Rob? I wish Nicole were here, she'd make this fun and we'd have something fun to share together again. I wonder if she'll ever talk to me again. I miss her so much."

Before I knew it, I was standing there nearly in tears. Just writing those thoughts has tears running down my face. I ended up going and sitting down. Eventually, I managed to get out onto the floor and do one sad lap. I say sad because instead of even trying to skate, I held onto the wall and shuffled along. It was a step way back from where I'd been two weeks ago.

I chickened out from going yesterday. Instead, I curled up on the couch and did nothing more than watch tv, play games and feel depressed all day. I couldn't even begin to process the whole thing. This morning, I started to make some sense of it...Of course, after another bout of insomnia, I fell back to sleep but I'm going to try to sort it out again because I think having it in writing will help me and maybe it will help those who are closest to me but who don't understand some of my behaviors...

When I was growing up, I felt like I was the ignored child. My sister was the pretty one, my brother was the artistic one and they were also both favored children. I was the smart one or so they said. I guess everyone needed a title. As the "smart one", I worked hard at my grades and for me, there was no such thing as failure. Failure equaled disappointment which equaled no longer having anything that was my own. It meant that instead of any kind of attention, I would be ignored. I spent my entire childhood and a good part of my adulthood just trying to make people happy. Maybe if I never disappointed anyone, they wouldn't send me away. I developed a fear of being seen as foolish without ever realizing that I had.

It's the reason that I won't play new games with others. Instead, if I know in advance, I'll read all the rules and learn how to play. That way, there's less of a chance of me looking stupid in front of those I care about. It's why I'm really afraid to try most new things in front of people that I care about. What if I do something dumb and they don't want me around anymore? The most hurtful thing anyone can say or do is to tell me or allow me to feel that they're disappointed in me.

Is it logical? Nope, but anxieties and fears rarely are. I've spent the past year or so surrounding myself with the most supportive, loving and amazing people..people who would never consider me a fool for not knowing how to play a board game or for trying to learn a new skill. The loss of Nicole as a friend damaged me more than I wanted to let on. I love that woman and it hurts to think that she doesn't trust me or that she was so disappointed in me as a friend that she just didn't want to be my friend anymore. Every time I think about her, I cry. I know that nothing I could have done would have changed what happened. I know that, in reality, nothing I did do caused this, but it doesn't make it hurt less.

That hurt combined with fear combined with lack of sleep led to a lackluster week. It's up to me to decide which is stronger...fear or myself. I overate, I didn't get my water in, I skipped out on the one real form of exercise that I'm doing this week and that's all on me. I made a poor decision when I let fear run my life. Today is a new day though and I'm going to try to start putting myself back on the right path..one little step at a time...

Starting Weight: -----------
Weekly Weight Gain/Loss: +.8
Total Weight Loss: -3.8
Daily Water Average: 24oz

Weekly Goals:

• 48oz of water per day
• Skating at least once this week
• Food planning for surgery stay