I haven't exactly been up front and shared the full details of my life and my struggles with anyone; mostly because it's not really anyone else's business, but also because it's difficult.
Most of my friends and co-workers know I've struggled with depression for the majority of my life, but I haven't truly opened up about what all has been going on with me recently.
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A few months after my 17th birthday, my cousins and uncle were visiting from Western Washington. Our bellies were craving a little snack, so my sister, cousins and I went for a walk down to the grocery store. It is only about a mile away from my parents' house, and the mid-September was perfect for an evening walk.
On the way to the grocery store, there is a large apartment complex that we passed through. My sister had some friends that constantly were riding their BMX bikes around the neighborhood, and we thought we saw them in the apartment complex's parking lot. Since it was dark, we couldn't see their faces, so she hollered for them to come our way.
It turned out not to be her friends, but some kids that lived in the next town over, just across the river. They'd ridden their bikes over just because. There were 2 kids, one was 18 and the other probably about 15. Both were charming and kind. Both skinny but cute. We all exchanged numbers after talking in the parking lot for 30 minutes, and then headed home.
This was the start of the absolutely *worst* thing to ever happen in my life...
We learned all about Nick (18) and Gabriel (15?). They lived in a house with Gabriel's mom, Gina, and her boyfriend (I forgot his name), and Gabriel's sisters, Sharaya and Kristian. They also had a roommate, Justin (17?), and then Carl (old) and his son, Travis, aka TJ (15?). After getting to know these guys more, and hanging out with them often, my sister Morgan entered into a relationship with Gabriel (they were seriously *SO* cute), Melissa entered into a very short-lived relationship with Justin (so gross now that we think about it...no offense), and I entered into what I thought was a relationship with Nick, but it turned out to be something much worse...
I knew that I should've dropped all contact after the first time we visited the boys at their house. I didn't, because it was the first time any guy had paid any attention to me (I was a "nerd" in school so I never had the courage to even talk to a guy and I also wasn't pretty). Not that a guy's attention should be the most important thing, but it felt nice to feel pretty to someone.
The first time my sister and I went to their house, we all had pizza and went our own separate ways. Morgan and Gabriel went downstairs, I went upstairs with Nick. He was *SO* quick to take his pants off, and I was scared. I wanted to leave and I kept telling him NO! He was very persistent and eventually stopped after my consistent "NO!"s were getting louder for the rest of the house to hear. I went downstairs and got Morgan, and said we needed to go home.
When I got home, I had a text message waiting for me, from Nick. I was so scared, upset, disappointed, and angry, I didn't want to read it. But my OCD kicked in and I had to get rid of the "New Message" indicator on my phone's screen. I read it, and it was an apology for him trying to move too fast and saying he hoped I got home safely.
It took awhile for me to let him earn my trust again, and I always made sure my sister and I were in the same room when he was around so he wouldn't try something I wasn't ready for. (Looking back, I don't know why this didn't make a Red Flag go off in my head...the fact that I didn't want to be alone with him and didn't trust him, I mean.)
A few months went by, and he had saved up enough money to get into his own apartment. My sisters and his old roommates and I helped him move, and we all found ourselves hanging out at that apartment quite a bit. After he'd laid off with trying to be forceful, I started to trust him again.
As soon as he could sense the trust, he used it to his advantage and always was doing little favors for me to continue to build up that trust. One day when I was done at work, I went over to his house to hang out and do my homework. He was in a really good mood on this particular day, and I didn't realize until after the fact what he had in mind.
He started to be playful and inappropriate and wanted to do things I wasn't ready for. I told him no, but since it was just us there, and the room we were in had no neighbors on the other side of the wall to hear me, I couldn't make myself loud enough for someone else to be concerned and come to my rescue. He told me that "NO isn't an option for you anymore". He held me down so I couldn't move and told me if I said anything, or ever got the cops involved, he would use his one call to set up a gang rape. He covered my nose and mouth with his hand so I struggled to breathe, until I stopped screaming for him to stop.
This was the most scared I'd ever felt in my life. I was absolutely TERRIFIED. He forced himself on me and wouldn't let me go. I was trying with all my might to kick and fight and scream, but it was no use. I told him he was hurting me and asked him to stop, and it was like he couldn't hear me at all.
When he was done, and I finally was allowed to go home (yes, allowed), I felt so ashamed. I was shaking, crying, angry, sad - the entire drive back home was a blur. I probably shouldn't have been driving, but I did anyway. I took the long way home so I could gather my emotions and set them aside, so that no one would question me for looking or acting like something was wrong when I got to the house. I had to act like it was a regular day, with regular events and like everything was okay.
I got a text message from him again, saying "You don't get to tell anyone about this." I was so scared, but I immediately erased the message and just went straight to my room to finish my homework and sleep.
This was only the beginning - and it was a regular occurrence. My life was threatened more times than I could count. He beat up Justin (the old roommate mentioned earlier) and smashed his head into the wall. I made the mistake (now I see it as I did the right thing) of calling my parents to come get my sisters and I, and this is when my dad didn't want me to come see Nick anymore. Because I was afraid for my life/afraid of being hurt, I would sneak out and my dad and I were on the most terrible terms for the year I was "with" Nick.
I was constantly wearing sweaters and pants to hide the marks that were left on my body when I would disobey. Melissa's next boyfriend, C (that's what I'll call him), told me after awhile that he couldn't feel bad for me anymore after he saw the marks on my body, because I hadn't gotten away and made the adult decision to just leave and say I'd had enough. I didn't want anyone to feel bad for me; I just wanted to be saved, and I couldn't do it myself.
I can recall a number of times that I'd bitten Nick through his skin, deep enough to draw blood, to get him to get off of me or to leave me alone. I used to bite my nails but kicked that habit when I realized that longer nails were good for defense/attacking him when he tried to hurt me. In front of everyone else, I had to act like nothing was wrong. I worked hard in school so that my grades didn't slip and hint that I had this difficult struggle going on. I couldn't let anyone know what was happening.
After 10+ times of breaking up and making up, watching him buy and sell drugs, and being so hurt all the time, I'd had enough. Nick was begging for me back and I told him no. I started ignoring his calls, ignoring his requests to come over. He didn't want other people to know what he was doing to me so he didn't really get my family involved. I felt somewhat secure because I knew he knew my dad didn't like him, and he didn't want to get on my dad's bad side - so he never came over to try to talk to me.
He knew here I lived and where I worked, but both happened to be with my dad so he never made an appearance. He did regularly drive by my parents' house to see if I was home, and I swear he has followed me multiple times. I left the state for 3 years and got a new job, hoping he wouldn't find me. I've kept the same number since then, and he would have these little periods of time where he wouldn't leave me alone and was constantly calling. He would leave messages saying he knew I left and was going to figure it out; that I was the only person who ever loved him right and he was going to track me down and force me to marry him.
It took me 3 years to not feel like he was always spying on me; 5 years to not be afraid he was in the cars next to me on the freeway, with a gun in hand, ready to shoot; 7 years to seek counseling.
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I've been in counseling since mid-August and I have been diagnosed with PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), moderate depression, mild OCD.
I constantly have these dreams that he is following me with a knife, or that I am following him to get revenge. These dreams terrify me. I've been having a really hard time sleeping the past few weeks because of these dreams, and just because of how I feel overall.
The past 2 days I've felt dizzy and jittery and like the world is spinning around me,, My mind won't stop racing and I can't calm down and focus. Luckily I have an understanding work place that has approved time off for me when I have these breakdowns, but it also makes me feel guilty that I've been out. I don't want my quality of work to be impacted or compromised because I can't focus and do my job. I've felt less patient and less able to do my work to the quality standards that are expected of me.
I hate that it's not just a cold that I can work through, and take some anti-biotics to help me feel better and plug away each week. It's just not that simple. I don't want to be on medications that control me, because a lot of medications make me feel sick and I have a very low tolerance to most of them. I don't want to be the girl that has to rely on a prescription to help keep me sane and normal.
I want to know how to make myself better without a drug. Until then, I can just try to do everything else in my power to just try to relax and think about other things. If there was a way for me to control my dreams, so I don't have these nightmares, I'd probably be better at functioning and getting through each day.
My friend and co-worker gave me a book to read that helped her when she went through something similar. I've only gotten a little bit into it but I hope it will help me be able to cope a little bit better and understand these diagnoses I've been given.
I just hope and pray it doesn't last long, because I want to feel strong again. I want to be back on my feet, ready to take on the day. I want to excel at work and make my boss and co-workers proud of me. I want to just be able to live normally again...
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Everything Happens for a Reason.
Sometimes, you have one of those days where you're reminiscing and wishing that the past was also the present in place of what is actually your present. Today was one of those days for me.
I started thinking about "what if such-and-such never changed?", or "what if I was offered thisotherjob instead of my current job?" I'm not even sure what triggered it, really. I think when my sister mentioned that her, boyfriend-without-the-label had supervisor training for his Post Office job, and it brought back a memory when I did some training and was offered an interview for a Postal position.
I was unemployed for nearly 10 months and had applied for every job I was "qualified" for (and even some I wasn't qualified for...the worst they could say is no!) and was at my last straw. I only had 4 weeks left of the first level of unemployment benefits that I could claim, before it would move into the second level (and the government was at a place where they were cutting benefits for second and third level unemployment claims). I was freaking out (little did I know, I was struggling with PTSD - a new-to-me diagnosis but according to my counselor I've been struggling with this since before I was a double-digit-midget). I didn't know what was going to happen. I tried to prepare myself for the worst, but it was difficult. How was I going to pay my bills? I couldn't rely on Derick or my parents for support me financially. I became more motivated than ever to apply for a job, earn an interview and kick so much butt in that interview that I was offered a job.
I'd applied for literally hundreds of jobs during that timespan. Near the end, I'd seen a post for a position at the main office for USPS and figured I'd apply. I didn't expect any sort of interview, or for there to be any interest in me at all. I'd always heard you had to have connections, or family working for the Post Office in order to even be considered or get a foot in the door. I had neither of those. I'd also been made aware by many individuals that the Post Office was cutting out employees since most everything is done electronically nowadays, and everything was moving to electronic. Email, billing, you name it. Anything (besides packages) that could be sent by mail, could be done through the internet. There was no need for the Post Office as much anymore.
After less than a week, I got an email asking me to go to a testing office to see if I'd be "qualified" to sort mail. I was given a timed computer test with a number of different questions to answer. I had to recognize if there were any incorrect Zip Codes, misspelled street names, invalid addresses and this was supposed to measure my ability to perform this position within the expectations the job carries.
I completed the test and waited for a few days to pass by when my phone finally rang. A gal was impressed with the results on my test and wanted me to come in to interview for the job! I felt a huge sense of relief come across my entire body. It was SO difficult to even come by an interview. I'd interviewed for a total of 5 positions during my 10 month period of unemployment, and apparently I'd bombed every one of them (maybe someone else was more qualified, but I like to think I'm great enough to do anything I set my mind to). I was so excited! Even considering the rumors of the Post Office shutting down.
During this time, I'd also applied for the job I eventually interviewed for, was offered, and took. I was offered my current job literally the day before my interview for the Post Office was scheduled. I was so excited to have even been offered a job, especially considering that they pay a very desirable salary. I called the gal I'd scheduled my interview with at the Post Office. I reached her voicemail so I left a message apologizing for the short notice, but that I'd been offered another position and decided to accept it.
Had I known the type of salaries and benefits a Federal employee receives, I may have continued with the interview. Part of me wishes I would have. Not because I regret taking my job (because I love it). But because my family is close with another family whose members worked for the Post Office for years (their daughter still does, I believe), and I know how great a job that could've been.
Sorting mail all day at the USPS headquarters for my city, NOT interacting with the public...as an introvert, that would've been a DREAM! Then after learning from my sister's boyfriend-without-the-label what sort of salary I could've been making at this time if I'd been offered and accepted the job, and had a year and a half tenure, I started to think...
Where would I be now if I had accepted that job? I know a few things for certain.
I know that I never would've met some of the amazing people I work with now. I never would've built this house or found the property it's on, due to the fact that my co-worker (and high school friend's husband) purchased the property next door and convinced us to purchase this property. I never would've learned about health insurance. I would feel so lost with all the information out there about the Health Care Reform (I feel it's important to understand with all the legalities of it now, even if I wasn't working in the health care/insurance industry). My few friends from the P&C Insurance company never would've left and come to work for the company I work for now. I wouldn't have created a few new friendships with some of the people I work with now. All of these things I am thankful for, and while I know if I didn't have these in my life I wouldn't know what I was missing, I am glad with the results of where this took me. Some days are hard for sure, but I push through and just keep getting stronger and more knowledgeable as each day passes.
While reminiscing all of the "what if"-s, I came across some oldddddddddddd emails from the first "boyfriend" I'd ever had. We met on the internet (go ahead, say it - shame, shame), and had talked on the phone and exchanged pictures and handwritten letters. Luckily, over time - he remained the same person and didn't turn out to be some creepy old dude preying on little children! He was (and is) a great guy. He was so sweet to me. He made me feel important; he made me feel valuable. He told me I was beautiful on the regular (BTW, Justin Timberlake just popped into my head - look up "My Love"). We talked every day. Sometimes, for hours. I didn't have a cell phone yet, so we tied up the home phone lines all night sometimes. He treated me the way almost every girl deserves to be treated, and wants to be treated. My parents were concerned (my mom was a little more, not necessarily "understanding", but lenient with me and the situation). They had every right to be, even though it all turned out to be okay.
I wondered, "how would things have been different if things there actually worked out?" I never would've dated Josh, which means I never would've tried Filipino food. I never would've gotten to enjoy my first apartment out of state. I never would've gotten my precious kitty, Abu. I never would've broken up with Josh and never would've moved on to Derick. That means I never would've gotten into this exact same house. I never would've gotten my precious pups (all 7 of them!)...I know, I'm crazy.
While part of me wishes I would've pursued that Post Office position, or part of me enjoyed parts of my relationship (on the internet), I realize that with each breath I take and each move I make, it's leading me where I'm destined to go. Each decision I make is part of the plan God has in store for me and for my life.
I started thinking about "what if such-and-such never changed?", or "what if I was offered thisotherjob instead of my current job?" I'm not even sure what triggered it, really. I think when my sister mentioned that her, boyfriend-without-the-label had supervisor training for his Post Office job, and it brought back a memory when I did some training and was offered an interview for a Postal position.
I was unemployed for nearly 10 months and had applied for every job I was "qualified" for (and even some I wasn't qualified for...the worst they could say is no!) and was at my last straw. I only had 4 weeks left of the first level of unemployment benefits that I could claim, before it would move into the second level (and the government was at a place where they were cutting benefits for second and third level unemployment claims). I was freaking out (little did I know, I was struggling with PTSD - a new-to-me diagnosis but according to my counselor I've been struggling with this since before I was a double-digit-midget). I didn't know what was going to happen. I tried to prepare myself for the worst, but it was difficult. How was I going to pay my bills? I couldn't rely on Derick or my parents for support me financially. I became more motivated than ever to apply for a job, earn an interview and kick so much butt in that interview that I was offered a job.
I'd applied for literally hundreds of jobs during that timespan. Near the end, I'd seen a post for a position at the main office for USPS and figured I'd apply. I didn't expect any sort of interview, or for there to be any interest in me at all. I'd always heard you had to have connections, or family working for the Post Office in order to even be considered or get a foot in the door. I had neither of those. I'd also been made aware by many individuals that the Post Office was cutting out employees since most everything is done electronically nowadays, and everything was moving to electronic. Email, billing, you name it. Anything (besides packages) that could be sent by mail, could be done through the internet. There was no need for the Post Office as much anymore.
After less than a week, I got an email asking me to go to a testing office to see if I'd be "qualified" to sort mail. I was given a timed computer test with a number of different questions to answer. I had to recognize if there were any incorrect Zip Codes, misspelled street names, invalid addresses and this was supposed to measure my ability to perform this position within the expectations the job carries.
I completed the test and waited for a few days to pass by when my phone finally rang. A gal was impressed with the results on my test and wanted me to come in to interview for the job! I felt a huge sense of relief come across my entire body. It was SO difficult to even come by an interview. I'd interviewed for a total of 5 positions during my 10 month period of unemployment, and apparently I'd bombed every one of them (maybe someone else was more qualified, but I like to think I'm great enough to do anything I set my mind to). I was so excited! Even considering the rumors of the Post Office shutting down.
During this time, I'd also applied for the job I eventually interviewed for, was offered, and took. I was offered my current job literally the day before my interview for the Post Office was scheduled. I was so excited to have even been offered a job, especially considering that they pay a very desirable salary. I called the gal I'd scheduled my interview with at the Post Office. I reached her voicemail so I left a message apologizing for the short notice, but that I'd been offered another position and decided to accept it.
Had I known the type of salaries and benefits a Federal employee receives, I may have continued with the interview. Part of me wishes I would have. Not because I regret taking my job (because I love it). But because my family is close with another family whose members worked for the Post Office for years (their daughter still does, I believe), and I know how great a job that could've been.
Sorting mail all day at the USPS headquarters for my city, NOT interacting with the public...as an introvert, that would've been a DREAM! Then after learning from my sister's boyfriend-without-the-label what sort of salary I could've been making at this time if I'd been offered and accepted the job, and had a year and a half tenure, I started to think...
Where would I be now if I had accepted that job? I know a few things for certain.
I know that I never would've met some of the amazing people I work with now. I never would've built this house or found the property it's on, due to the fact that my co-worker (and high school friend's husband) purchased the property next door and convinced us to purchase this property. I never would've learned about health insurance. I would feel so lost with all the information out there about the Health Care Reform (I feel it's important to understand with all the legalities of it now, even if I wasn't working in the health care/insurance industry). My few friends from the P&C Insurance company never would've left and come to work for the company I work for now. I wouldn't have created a few new friendships with some of the people I work with now. All of these things I am thankful for, and while I know if I didn't have these in my life I wouldn't know what I was missing, I am glad with the results of where this took me. Some days are hard for sure, but I push through and just keep getting stronger and more knowledgeable as each day passes.
While reminiscing all of the "what if"-s, I came across some oldddddddddddd emails from the first "boyfriend" I'd ever had. We met on the internet (go ahead, say it - shame, shame), and had talked on the phone and exchanged pictures and handwritten letters. Luckily, over time - he remained the same person and didn't turn out to be some creepy old dude preying on little children! He was (and is) a great guy. He was so sweet to me. He made me feel important; he made me feel valuable. He told me I was beautiful on the regular (BTW, Justin Timberlake just popped into my head - look up "My Love"). We talked every day. Sometimes, for hours. I didn't have a cell phone yet, so we tied up the home phone lines all night sometimes. He treated me the way almost every girl deserves to be treated, and wants to be treated. My parents were concerned (my mom was a little more, not necessarily "understanding", but lenient with me and the situation). They had every right to be, even though it all turned out to be okay.
I wondered, "how would things have been different if things there actually worked out?" I never would've dated Josh, which means I never would've tried Filipino food. I never would've gotten to enjoy my first apartment out of state. I never would've gotten my precious kitty, Abu. I never would've broken up with Josh and never would've moved on to Derick. That means I never would've gotten into this exact same house. I never would've gotten my precious pups (all 7 of them!)...I know, I'm crazy.
While part of me wishes I would've pursued that Post Office position, or part of me enjoyed parts of my relationship (on the internet), I realize that with each breath I take and each move I make, it's leading me where I'm destined to go. Each decision I make is part of the plan God has in store for me and for my life.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Oops...
Recently there have been some things going on behind the scenes where Derick's mama has to move from her home. She and Derick were thinking of doing a possible addition to mine and Derick's current home, for her to stay. She would have her own separate part of the house while Derick and I had our own part of the house too.
As anyone close to me knows, it was not a conversation I was really that interested in having. For many reasons. As much as I love and care for both Derick and his mom, I was not ready for this type of change in my life.
Usually I keep to myself when I don't want to hurt someone's feelings. I'd rather hurt than do something or say something to hurt someone. It causes so much guilt and anger toward myself if I know I hurt someone, regardless if it was intentional or not.
Last night the conversation came up again. In my head, I told myself that I didn't really want to do it. But...turns out, my mouth actually said it out loud. The way it came out wasn't intentional at all. I didn't even want to say anything for fear of hurting anyone's feelings. It was just one of those moments where you slipped up and said something without even realizing it. I am sure that I sounded rude, which wasn't planned at all.
I'm not good at sticking up for myself. I've always come in last place when it comes to putting myself, my ideas, and my feelings before anyone else.
I know that Derick is aware of how I felt every day with our previous living arrangement. While it was more than selfless and generous for his mom to give us a place to stay, it wasn't an arrangement I was entirely proud of or happy to be a part of. I've discussed a lot of it in past posts, and some parts I'll never post for fear or someone twisting my words and then me feeling more guilt. (This is something I'm trying to work on - the guilt part - with my new counselor.)
After my brain caught up with my mouth and I'd realized what happened, the conversation between myself, Derick and his mom became very quiet. (We were at home talking to her on the phone, while she was on speaker phone so we could all talk.) She suddenly had something else to do. I felt bad, and I still do. I don't feel like changing my answer though.
Derick was quiet for a few minutes, but then he just resumed to his regularly playful, joking, happy self. I didn't talk to him about what came out of my mouth (I can't even tell myself that *I* said it...my mouth did) after it happened, but he didn't really seem very bothered or concerned after a few minutes had passed.
I am sure he knows I was not happy in the past. In fact, I know he knows I didn't have the most wonderful time. Each time he would bring up the situation of his mom coming to our house (permanently, mind you), he wouldn't really pressure me or try to pursuade me into letting something happen that he and I both knew would add more to my mental health struggles than helping those struggles. I think he just was "refreshing my memory" per his mom's request.
I know that I wasn't the only one that struggled with the prior living arrangement. Derick wasn't too fond of it either. I am sure he loves his mom of course, but I know he would be so stressed with how much complaining there was some days about our dogs. The pressure of always keeping up with the yardwork sometimes got to him and created 3-day long fights between Derick and his mom.
Once we were "grounded" from leaving the house for a week. We were both in our early/mid-twenties...There were a lot of rules we had to follow that were hard to deal with. We didn't have privacy and most certainly didn't feel like adults. This is an entirely new blog post/subject and I'm not sure I will share online. It will probably be a conversation I will have with my new counselor though.
So, back to the actions my mouth took last night. After I'd realized what was said, I said I just had too much going on and too many things on my plate right now to add one more. I also mentioned that with my counseling it's adding a lot to my life (which it truly is...it's hard for me to open up really - other than in writing - and actually accept advice) and it's really not the best timing.
I don't know if I'll ever find the perfect timing for this type of arrangement to happen, and for me to be more okay with it. Derick and I need to live as adults. When it's time to get married, or work on starting a family, I don't want other people around as it all happens. We've had maybe a total of a year (out of THREE) that it's been just us. If his mom moved in, it would be permanent. If we're together the next 60+ years, that would be like we had basically 1.5% of our lives alone.
I'm very independent. I don't like the "support" or being always surrounded by people. I don't like accepting "help" or having other people pay my bills or live with me (besides Derick...but no roommates etc). I can't change how I feel. I *might* learn to deal eventually, but it's not in the cards right now.
Part of me feels proud that, even if it wasn't intentional, I got my feelings out. Part of me feels guilt that I said something that was hurtful to someone else.
We'll see if the offers for family jewelry still stand after I denied the living arrangement request, but honestly I don't care. I never wanted jewelry. I don't want to be bribed, I don't want materialistic "things" or offers to pay for air conditioning or a back yard as a trade for my happiness. It's been known by both Derick and his mom that I was not interested in this type of living arrangement 2 years ago when we moved out of our duplex, but I dealt with it and was unhappy. Even now, I have the same feelings that never changed and it was known. I guess I was pushed to the point that apparently I couldn't keep it bottled anymore.
I'll be talking to my counselor about this next Tuesday I'm sure. In the meantime, I have this blog to vent. Even if no one reads this, I feel in a way that I've gotten a lot of stress off my shoulders just by writing. And that's what matters.
As anyone close to me knows, it was not a conversation I was really that interested in having. For many reasons. As much as I love and care for both Derick and his mom, I was not ready for this type of change in my life.
Usually I keep to myself when I don't want to hurt someone's feelings. I'd rather hurt than do something or say something to hurt someone. It causes so much guilt and anger toward myself if I know I hurt someone, regardless if it was intentional or not.
Last night the conversation came up again. In my head, I told myself that I didn't really want to do it. But...turns out, my mouth actually said it out loud. The way it came out wasn't intentional at all. I didn't even want to say anything for fear of hurting anyone's feelings. It was just one of those moments where you slipped up and said something without even realizing it. I am sure that I sounded rude, which wasn't planned at all.
I'm not good at sticking up for myself. I've always come in last place when it comes to putting myself, my ideas, and my feelings before anyone else.
I know that Derick is aware of how I felt every day with our previous living arrangement. While it was more than selfless and generous for his mom to give us a place to stay, it wasn't an arrangement I was entirely proud of or happy to be a part of. I've discussed a lot of it in past posts, and some parts I'll never post for fear or someone twisting my words and then me feeling more guilt. (This is something I'm trying to work on - the guilt part - with my new counselor.)
After my brain caught up with my mouth and I'd realized what happened, the conversation between myself, Derick and his mom became very quiet. (We were at home talking to her on the phone, while she was on speaker phone so we could all talk.) She suddenly had something else to do. I felt bad, and I still do. I don't feel like changing my answer though.
Derick was quiet for a few minutes, but then he just resumed to his regularly playful, joking, happy self. I didn't talk to him about what came out of my mouth (I can't even tell myself that *I* said it...my mouth did) after it happened, but he didn't really seem very bothered or concerned after a few minutes had passed.
I am sure he knows I was not happy in the past. In fact, I know he knows I didn't have the most wonderful time. Each time he would bring up the situation of his mom coming to our house (permanently, mind you), he wouldn't really pressure me or try to pursuade me into letting something happen that he and I both knew would add more to my mental health struggles than helping those struggles. I think he just was "refreshing my memory" per his mom's request.
I know that I wasn't the only one that struggled with the prior living arrangement. Derick wasn't too fond of it either. I am sure he loves his mom of course, but I know he would be so stressed with how much complaining there was some days about our dogs. The pressure of always keeping up with the yardwork sometimes got to him and created 3-day long fights between Derick and his mom.
Once we were "grounded" from leaving the house for a week. We were both in our early/mid-twenties...There were a lot of rules we had to follow that were hard to deal with. We didn't have privacy and most certainly didn't feel like adults. This is an entirely new blog post/subject and I'm not sure I will share online. It will probably be a conversation I will have with my new counselor though.
So, back to the actions my mouth took last night. After I'd realized what was said, I said I just had too much going on and too many things on my plate right now to add one more. I also mentioned that with my counseling it's adding a lot to my life (which it truly is...it's hard for me to open up really - other than in writing - and actually accept advice) and it's really not the best timing.
I don't know if I'll ever find the perfect timing for this type of arrangement to happen, and for me to be more okay with it. Derick and I need to live as adults. When it's time to get married, or work on starting a family, I don't want other people around as it all happens. We've had maybe a total of a year (out of THREE) that it's been just us. If his mom moved in, it would be permanent. If we're together the next 60+ years, that would be like we had basically 1.5% of our lives alone.
I'm very independent. I don't like the "support" or being always surrounded by people. I don't like accepting "help" or having other people pay my bills or live with me (besides Derick...but no roommates etc). I can't change how I feel. I *might* learn to deal eventually, but it's not in the cards right now.
Part of me feels proud that, even if it wasn't intentional, I got my feelings out. Part of me feels guilt that I said something that was hurtful to someone else.
We'll see if the offers for family jewelry still stand after I denied the living arrangement request, but honestly I don't care. I never wanted jewelry. I don't want to be bribed, I don't want materialistic "things" or offers to pay for air conditioning or a back yard as a trade for my happiness. It's been known by both Derick and his mom that I was not interested in this type of living arrangement 2 years ago when we moved out of our duplex, but I dealt with it and was unhappy. Even now, I have the same feelings that never changed and it was known. I guess I was pushed to the point that apparently I couldn't keep it bottled anymore.
I'll be talking to my counselor about this next Tuesday I'm sure. In the meantime, I have this blog to vent. Even if no one reads this, I feel in a way that I've gotten a lot of stress off my shoulders just by writing. And that's what matters.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
August Update
It's been awhile since I've posted. I know. I have been way too busy trying to occupy myself with all the crazy things going on in this life of mine.
I've now been at my job for a year and 4 months (woohoo!), and about 3 months ago someone had faith in me to simultaneously work as a rep in both Customer Service and Claims so I've been a busy, multi-tasking lady! (Thank you to my supervisor, Lori, and her boss / my old supervisor, Fe'Lecia, for believing in me!)
Derick and I have been living in our house for about 8 1/2 months now. That's almost long enough to grow a full human baby! We started out with a typical, builder-grade home. Derick and I decided to remodel our 1/2 bath downstairs. We painted, and Derick installed a new tile backsplash. It looks amazing. We've also planted some flowers and kept the front yard up, and last weekend we installed little lights as you walk up to our front door. It's super cute!
Derick *finally* got the raise he has deserved the last 2 1/2 years. Just shy of a $2 raise. This should be tremendous help! (Now the next thing is for him to find a job with benefits so I'm not paying $300/month for his medical/dental anymore. ;])
Around my 1 year mark, I received a raise. A small raise, but a raise. $0.41 - not too noticeable, but grateful the company saw something in me after 8 months (evaluations were in December, I think - payout in April) to provide a small raise. The company I work for is very generous. I still love the place I work. Some days, the job is rough. But it pays the bills and I work with incredible individuals so it makes up for it all (...usually!).
I've been struggling a lot with my anxiety/depression in the recent months. I think it has affected all aspects of my life. I'm finding it much more difficult to concentrate at work. I'm much more aggravated/irritable than usual (no, it's not pregnancy!). The things that are contributing to this the most, I'm not ready to talk publicly about, but it involves some personal things as well as some health issues I've been experiencing.
I started going to a counselor this week. It was so scary and intimidating to make that first step of even calling to schedule an appointment. Once I got through the door and in the chair, it felt so nice to be able to (slowly) open up about my struggles and what is going on in my life. I had a 60-minute session, and while it's still a little bit different/scary/new to me, part of me is anxious to go back. Leaving, I felt a small brick float away off of my shoulder. Not the whole stack, but one little brick - and it was noticeable immediately.
It's hard for me to open up with my voice. I usually do that in writing. I was intimidated, not knowing what this counselor was going to think of me and my thoughts. If she thought I was crazy or if maybe I didn't even need counseling. After I felt a little wave of comfort kick in, I was able to answer her questions truthfully. Slowly, and with a tremble in my voice, but truthfully. And it felt good. Because I got the impression she isn't going to be mad at me for what I say. She isn't going to judge me. She's here to provide an unbiased opinion. And I like the idea of that.
Maybe someday I'll post it all here, but I think that as therapeutic as writing is for me, it might be best for me to try to keep some of these things a little more private and confidential - for now at least. I did write a 16 page "note" about my depression and how I feel. Just about the basics, without going into much detail. I've thought of sharing that with my counselor but maybe I'll wait until we get to know each other a little bit better.
Work is moving to a new building across the street next week, so that will be interesting. Now, I sit in a 4-desk cubicle, alone. I actually kind of like it. It's going to be so different actually sitting by people starting next week. I like to keep to myself usually, but this might be good for me. BRING IT ON! :]
Hopefully I'll be able to find more time to write. I'm not even really sure anyone reads my posts. Regardless, I'll be here again very soon (I hope!). Until then!
I've now been at my job for a year and 4 months (woohoo!), and about 3 months ago someone had faith in me to simultaneously work as a rep in both Customer Service and Claims so I've been a busy, multi-tasking lady! (Thank you to my supervisor, Lori, and her boss / my old supervisor, Fe'Lecia, for believing in me!)
Derick and I have been living in our house for about 8 1/2 months now. That's almost long enough to grow a full human baby! We started out with a typical, builder-grade home. Derick and I decided to remodel our 1/2 bath downstairs. We painted, and Derick installed a new tile backsplash. It looks amazing. We've also planted some flowers and kept the front yard up, and last weekend we installed little lights as you walk up to our front door. It's super cute!
Derick *finally* got the raise he has deserved the last 2 1/2 years. Just shy of a $2 raise. This should be tremendous help! (Now the next thing is for him to find a job with benefits so I'm not paying $300/month for his medical/dental anymore. ;])
Around my 1 year mark, I received a raise. A small raise, but a raise. $0.41 - not too noticeable, but grateful the company saw something in me after 8 months (evaluations were in December, I think - payout in April) to provide a small raise. The company I work for is very generous. I still love the place I work. Some days, the job is rough. But it pays the bills and I work with incredible individuals so it makes up for it all (...usually!).
I've been struggling a lot with my anxiety/depression in the recent months. I think it has affected all aspects of my life. I'm finding it much more difficult to concentrate at work. I'm much more aggravated/irritable than usual (no, it's not pregnancy!). The things that are contributing to this the most, I'm not ready to talk publicly about, but it involves some personal things as well as some health issues I've been experiencing.
I started going to a counselor this week. It was so scary and intimidating to make that first step of even calling to schedule an appointment. Once I got through the door and in the chair, it felt so nice to be able to (slowly) open up about my struggles and what is going on in my life. I had a 60-minute session, and while it's still a little bit different/scary/new to me, part of me is anxious to go back. Leaving, I felt a small brick float away off of my shoulder. Not the whole stack, but one little brick - and it was noticeable immediately.
It's hard for me to open up with my voice. I usually do that in writing. I was intimidated, not knowing what this counselor was going to think of me and my thoughts. If she thought I was crazy or if maybe I didn't even need counseling. After I felt a little wave of comfort kick in, I was able to answer her questions truthfully. Slowly, and with a tremble in my voice, but truthfully. And it felt good. Because I got the impression she isn't going to be mad at me for what I say. She isn't going to judge me. She's here to provide an unbiased opinion. And I like the idea of that.
Maybe someday I'll post it all here, but I think that as therapeutic as writing is for me, it might be best for me to try to keep some of these things a little more private and confidential - for now at least. I did write a 16 page "note" about my depression and how I feel. Just about the basics, without going into much detail. I've thought of sharing that with my counselor but maybe I'll wait until we get to know each other a little bit better.
Work is moving to a new building across the street next week, so that will be interesting. Now, I sit in a 4-desk cubicle, alone. I actually kind of like it. It's going to be so different actually sitting by people starting next week. I like to keep to myself usually, but this might be good for me. BRING IT ON! :]
Hopefully I'll be able to find more time to write. I'm not even really sure anyone reads my posts. Regardless, I'll be here again very soon (I hope!). Until then!
Sunday, March 9, 2014
What are you supposed to do?
What are you supposed to do when you lose a friend?
Do you try to hang on to the memories, and try to fix what is probably meant to be broken? Do you just let it go, and tell yourself the ride is over?
That's what I have found myself struggling with a lot lately.
My first friendship "break-up" was one of my first and closest friends. My cousin B and I were joined at the hip, after I got out of my "Terrible Twos" stage of life (lol). Everything was wonderful. She got me hooked on country music (which, by the way, is SO much better than that rap/hip hop stuff I listed to before). Each time I would stay at her house, we'd stay up super late and watch Charles In Charge reruns. Someone always there for you, and you had that guarantee of "forever" because you're family. That was, until we let boys get between us. It was awful. Literally awful. I think in the past 7 years (that's how long it's been), we've had 3 conversations that I can remember. I didn't fight it, I didn't try to fix it. I just let it go.
The next "break-up" was around the same time, so I was so devastated. At 16, all you care about are your friends. When I was 16, the two that I had, I had also lost. K and I were best friends, from 7th grade through summer before Junior year in High School. We constantly had sleepovers. She would burn CDs for me with my favorite music, since my family didn't have a computer. My family was also struggling during that time, so often times I did not bring lunch to school. (This was my own choice, to save my parents money...my parents did not tell me I could not have lunch.) She shared her lunch with me and often times shared her lunch money with me in 8th grade so I wasn't hungry. We both played MASH and "The Lemon Game" whenever we were around each other. We babysat together for our church's Married Life group twice a month. She taught me how to shave my legs in 7th grade. A stupid fight, on the internet, over me not feeling like I got the attention I wanted/felt that I deserved at my Sweet 16 and too much attention being paid to R (more on that later), was what drove us apart. We're casual friends on Facebook now, and that's about it. We've texted each other twice since I decided to let go of my grudge, but it permanently ruined any chance at friendship that I had left. I gave up, because I couldn't handle rejection and knew that's what I'd feel if I even tried to mend what was broken.
Third, was R. Friends since I was 14. Best friends at 16. Best Best Best friends at 18. Some stuff happened that caused us not to be as close for a year or two, but we'd always catch up and make sure the other was doing well. And it wasn't awkward. Suddenly, about a year and a half, or two years ago, R asked me to call. I have a feeling it was about his relationship at that time with a girl I introduced him to, A. He didn't say, but I was in a new relationship and didn't know how my new significant other would take me talking to a male friend, late at night. It was never anything inappropriate, but still didn't want to seem like I was doing anything wrong (which I wasn't), so I said that I couldn't call. When a friend needed me the most. This caused R not to want to be my friend. We haven't talked since. When I found out he was recently engaged (not to A; she is married to someone else now), I heard from a mutual friend. That's great, but it would've been awesome to hear from R directly, you know? So I sent my best wishes to him, only to find out that he deleted my number and asked our mutual friend who my phone number belonged to. R then told our mutual friend to tell me thank you. I didn't even get to hear it from him directly. I stopped trying, because I know how stubborn R can be, and maybe eventually he will come around. I wish him a happy birthday every year on December 1. I do wonder how it will be once he is married. I wish I could meet his future wife and tell him what an awesome catch she got. But that won't happen. I constantly pray that R will find it in his heart to forgive my mistakes, and that's all I can do. I can't force him to want to mend what is broken, unless that's also what he wants. At least that's what I've learned.
Most recently was A2 (the 2 is obviously there to let you know that this is not the previously-mentioned "A" in the paragraph above). It's been about a year since our "break-up". There were so many things that contributed to this, and honestly I think everyone and their dogs saw it coming. There were good things, and bad things that happened during our friendship. It ranged anywhere from "Mandy, you deserve so much more respect" to "Mandy, you have no respect for yourself", and from "I'm so proud of you" to "You are such an awful friend". I miss when she graciously allowed me to stay with her following a break-up (which honestly, she contributed to but it was good for me in the long run), and we would wait until Midnight each night to read our horoscopes. She was so kind to let my bratty cat stay too, even though he was so mean to her blind cat. We both worked together and had Fridays off so one Friday we went to Chuck E. Cheese and spent the day there, as 21 year olds. Haha. Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong. What I did to be such a terrible person to lose this friendship. I was never anything but supportive of her. I was her shoulder to cry on, the one she would vent to. I even ventured with her to a random person's house that we met on the internet (we can save that for another time, but I promise we were safe). It all turned sour when we both began a weight loss journey. She was working really hard to lose weight, and was doing an amazing job. When we were friends, she'd already lost nearly 60 pounds and looked awesome. I didn't have to work as hard as her; I just changed how I ate and 40 pounds fell off in 4 months. I was accused of lying, and I think she became jealous and that was the last straw for her. After that, I tried to fix what was potentially mendable, but matters were just made worse. I was blamed for not being there when she was "in a coma", which I'd never even heard about this happening (neither did our mutual friend, M...yet M and A2 are still friends. Hmmm...). I was blamed for always turning the conversation away from her and onto me. I was blamed for changing who I was when I got into a new relationship, which she did not approve of. She didn't approve because I was stupid and would only tell her the negative aspects of it instead of the million more positive aspects of it, and that was my own fault. I lost my job while we were friends, and was honest-to-goodness trying as hard as I could to find a job for 9 1/2 months. This wasn't good enough for her, yet she quit her job (and apparently all the ones after that) because she didn't like them (according to our friend M). I was constantly degraded (more than praised or even appreciated). But there was something in me that still longed for the friendship. Maybe it was that she was the only girl my age I could handle being around. Maybe it was because I knew I'd tried and failed at friendships in the past so I desperately needed to hang on to this one. I don't know. I found out from M that A2 had reached her "100 pounds lost" milestone. Even though we hadn't talked in probably 6 months, I sent her a congratulatory message. Her response was 4 pages long, full of how "the message is appreciated" but my contacting her was not appreciated after how awful I was. Maybe she really was in a coma, but I never knew about this...and I don't think it was because I was an ignorant friend, since all of our mutual friends were not aware of this "coma" either. All I know is that my best was not good enough, so I stopped trying.
These days, I have my sisters, mom, and Derick as my support. I've learned that's all I need. But sometimes you have this longing for a friend. Someone besides family. I've tried and failed so many times in the past, that I've stopped trying to make friends. I've kept my distance from new people, to prevent any sort of friendship from blossoming (and dying). I've kept to myself at my new job, and fear making any friends because of my past track record.
Are you supposed to fight for a working friendship? Do I try to mend what was broken? Do I leave it as is and move on? Do I try to hold onto the memories? Do I beg for forgiveness (even when there's nothing to be forgiven for)? It's so puzzling. Maybe there is one of those "For Dummies" books on how to be a good friend. Maybe I wasn't put on this Earth to have friends, but to be a good person and work hard and love my family and my dogs. Who knows? All I know is a part of me still feels empty. What is a girl supposed to do?
Do you try to hang on to the memories, and try to fix what is probably meant to be broken? Do you just let it go, and tell yourself the ride is over?
That's what I have found myself struggling with a lot lately.
My first friendship "break-up" was one of my first and closest friends. My cousin B and I were joined at the hip, after I got out of my "Terrible Twos" stage of life (lol). Everything was wonderful. She got me hooked on country music (which, by the way, is SO much better than that rap/hip hop stuff I listed to before). Each time I would stay at her house, we'd stay up super late and watch Charles In Charge reruns. Someone always there for you, and you had that guarantee of "forever" because you're family. That was, until we let boys get between us. It was awful. Literally awful. I think in the past 7 years (that's how long it's been), we've had 3 conversations that I can remember. I didn't fight it, I didn't try to fix it. I just let it go.
The next "break-up" was around the same time, so I was so devastated. At 16, all you care about are your friends. When I was 16, the two that I had, I had also lost. K and I were best friends, from 7th grade through summer before Junior year in High School. We constantly had sleepovers. She would burn CDs for me with my favorite music, since my family didn't have a computer. My family was also struggling during that time, so often times I did not bring lunch to school. (This was my own choice, to save my parents money...my parents did not tell me I could not have lunch.) She shared her lunch with me and often times shared her lunch money with me in 8th grade so I wasn't hungry. We both played MASH and "The Lemon Game" whenever we were around each other. We babysat together for our church's Married Life group twice a month. She taught me how to shave my legs in 7th grade. A stupid fight, on the internet, over me not feeling like I got the attention I wanted/felt that I deserved at my Sweet 16 and too much attention being paid to R (more on that later), was what drove us apart. We're casual friends on Facebook now, and that's about it. We've texted each other twice since I decided to let go of my grudge, but it permanently ruined any chance at friendship that I had left. I gave up, because I couldn't handle rejection and knew that's what I'd feel if I even tried to mend what was broken.
Third, was R. Friends since I was 14. Best friends at 16. Best Best Best friends at 18. Some stuff happened that caused us not to be as close for a year or two, but we'd always catch up and make sure the other was doing well. And it wasn't awkward. Suddenly, about a year and a half, or two years ago, R asked me to call. I have a feeling it was about his relationship at that time with a girl I introduced him to, A. He didn't say, but I was in a new relationship and didn't know how my new significant other would take me talking to a male friend, late at night. It was never anything inappropriate, but still didn't want to seem like I was doing anything wrong (which I wasn't), so I said that I couldn't call. When a friend needed me the most. This caused R not to want to be my friend. We haven't talked since. When I found out he was recently engaged (not to A; she is married to someone else now), I heard from a mutual friend. That's great, but it would've been awesome to hear from R directly, you know? So I sent my best wishes to him, only to find out that he deleted my number and asked our mutual friend who my phone number belonged to. R then told our mutual friend to tell me thank you. I didn't even get to hear it from him directly. I stopped trying, because I know how stubborn R can be, and maybe eventually he will come around. I wish him a happy birthday every year on December 1. I do wonder how it will be once he is married. I wish I could meet his future wife and tell him what an awesome catch she got. But that won't happen. I constantly pray that R will find it in his heart to forgive my mistakes, and that's all I can do. I can't force him to want to mend what is broken, unless that's also what he wants. At least that's what I've learned.
Most recently was A2 (the 2 is obviously there to let you know that this is not the previously-mentioned "A" in the paragraph above). It's been about a year since our "break-up". There were so many things that contributed to this, and honestly I think everyone and their dogs saw it coming. There were good things, and bad things that happened during our friendship. It ranged anywhere from "Mandy, you deserve so much more respect" to "Mandy, you have no respect for yourself", and from "I'm so proud of you" to "You are such an awful friend". I miss when she graciously allowed me to stay with her following a break-up (which honestly, she contributed to but it was good for me in the long run), and we would wait until Midnight each night to read our horoscopes. She was so kind to let my bratty cat stay too, even though he was so mean to her blind cat. We both worked together and had Fridays off so one Friday we went to Chuck E. Cheese and spent the day there, as 21 year olds. Haha. Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong. What I did to be such a terrible person to lose this friendship. I was never anything but supportive of her. I was her shoulder to cry on, the one she would vent to. I even ventured with her to a random person's house that we met on the internet (we can save that for another time, but I promise we were safe). It all turned sour when we both began a weight loss journey. She was working really hard to lose weight, and was doing an amazing job. When we were friends, she'd already lost nearly 60 pounds and looked awesome. I didn't have to work as hard as her; I just changed how I ate and 40 pounds fell off in 4 months. I was accused of lying, and I think she became jealous and that was the last straw for her. After that, I tried to fix what was potentially mendable, but matters were just made worse. I was blamed for not being there when she was "in a coma", which I'd never even heard about this happening (neither did our mutual friend, M...yet M and A2 are still friends. Hmmm...). I was blamed for always turning the conversation away from her and onto me. I was blamed for changing who I was when I got into a new relationship, which she did not approve of. She didn't approve because I was stupid and would only tell her the negative aspects of it instead of the million more positive aspects of it, and that was my own fault. I lost my job while we were friends, and was honest-to-goodness trying as hard as I could to find a job for 9 1/2 months. This wasn't good enough for her, yet she quit her job (and apparently all the ones after that) because she didn't like them (according to our friend M). I was constantly degraded (more than praised or even appreciated). But there was something in me that still longed for the friendship. Maybe it was that she was the only girl my age I could handle being around. Maybe it was because I knew I'd tried and failed at friendships in the past so I desperately needed to hang on to this one. I don't know. I found out from M that A2 had reached her "100 pounds lost" milestone. Even though we hadn't talked in probably 6 months, I sent her a congratulatory message. Her response was 4 pages long, full of how "the message is appreciated" but my contacting her was not appreciated after how awful I was. Maybe she really was in a coma, but I never knew about this...and I don't think it was because I was an ignorant friend, since all of our mutual friends were not aware of this "coma" either. All I know is that my best was not good enough, so I stopped trying.
These days, I have my sisters, mom, and Derick as my support. I've learned that's all I need. But sometimes you have this longing for a friend. Someone besides family. I've tried and failed so many times in the past, that I've stopped trying to make friends. I've kept my distance from new people, to prevent any sort of friendship from blossoming (and dying). I've kept to myself at my new job, and fear making any friends because of my past track record.
Are you supposed to fight for a working friendship? Do I try to mend what was broken? Do I leave it as is and move on? Do I try to hold onto the memories? Do I beg for forgiveness (even when there's nothing to be forgiven for)? It's so puzzling. Maybe there is one of those "For Dummies" books on how to be a good friend. Maybe I wasn't put on this Earth to have friends, but to be a good person and work hard and love my family and my dogs. Who knows? All I know is a part of me still feels empty. What is a girl supposed to do?
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