People always think that their opinions have a place in my life. I know that I complain a lot about how people's words affect me, but I have become used to it. People always tell me about how much of a shitbag I am, but I would rather have no friends and not lie to anyone than be a huge liar and have a bunch of fake friends.
All of my "friends" have done things they said that we wouldn't do, like go to parties, drink, smoke, be promiscuous, etc. And somehow, I am the asshole and the bad person for staying clean and telling people the truth. I am not just going to sit by and watch people destroy themselves and just "support them" no matter what. I think that if you ask my opinion and you are not going down a path that is beneficial, I will say so. Also, I should be able to defend myself without being thought a bitch.
There are so many people in my life that are rude and lie to one another, and I just think it takes an awful lot of energy and maintenance. And then when I tell the truth, I am still not believed. Whatever I guess. I can't be friendless forever. Someday I will find people that would like to be my friend because they know that I will not lie to them, and that we won't have to watch what we say because we trust each other.
All the people that have left my life have left it for a reason, and even though I am bored and lonely, I would rather stay home and veg than go pretend to care about stuff I don't care about, and about people I don't care about. They act like it is my loss, but really it is a weight lifted off my shoulders. Good riddance.
And last but not least, I am going to make sure from now on, I try to be a bit more positive and less complainy. Nobody likes to hear people bitch. Love you bye!
Sunday, December 28, 2014
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Dear Haysoos.
Have you ever had a "friend" that lied about every single last thing? Even if it was about the dumbest crap, they would go out of their way to lie about it.
I am stuck around one of those right now. A self-centered, arrogant, spoiled lying thief. I don't even know what to say about it. I am just speechless as to how people raise their kids these days and tell them that they are such hot shit. It is the exact reason I don't want children. I would never want to curse the world with one of those.
I am stuck around one of those right now. A self-centered, arrogant, spoiled lying thief. I don't even know what to say about it. I am just speechless as to how people raise their kids these days and tell them that they are such hot shit. It is the exact reason I don't want children. I would never want to curse the world with one of those.
Monday, October 20, 2014
On the Road Again...
So, I don't know how many people I know have driven across the country, but that is what I plan to do. YIPEE. I am a little bit frightened, because it is going to take a shiotload of time and I get really carsick, but hopefully all will go well. I have gotten a lot less neurotic about my life lately, but at the same time, a little more so. I am not worried about certain things that used to scare me really bad, but now I am worried about other things. In comparison, however, they are not really as bad. At least not to me.
I am afraid of Idaho's winter... here in Virginia it gets about down to freezing and that is as cold as it gets. In Idaho, it gets down to below zero temperatures, and I have gotten used to the pleasant temperatures here. I really do like the heat. I don't really want to stay in Idaho my whole life, but that is where my family lives, and that is where I grew up. I just wish it were warmer during the winter. The summer temperatures are through the roof. Upper hundreds..... That place is just very bipolar. The temperatures need to be averaged out.
On another good note, I have gotten over any and all best friend wierdness I was doing. It was all me, and I guess I shouldn't have taken it personally. I should just trust that she is happy and making a life for herself. (Although she could move back to Idaho if she wanted to...)
On a bad note, I am again missing my very favorite holiday for about the third time. FML I want to do Halloween already. I don't care about all the other holidays! I just want to decorate for Halloween, but unfortunately that will not be possible.
On a good note, Kannon (Scott's best friend) is coming to visit us again. I am quite excited. They had a lot of fun the last time he came to visit and this could be the very last time that they see each other for a very long time! Kannon is being stationed far away from us!
I am afraid of Idaho's winter... here in Virginia it gets about down to freezing and that is as cold as it gets. In Idaho, it gets down to below zero temperatures, and I have gotten used to the pleasant temperatures here. I really do like the heat. I don't really want to stay in Idaho my whole life, but that is where my family lives, and that is where I grew up. I just wish it were warmer during the winter. The summer temperatures are through the roof. Upper hundreds..... That place is just very bipolar. The temperatures need to be averaged out.
On another good note, I have gotten over any and all best friend wierdness I was doing. It was all me, and I guess I shouldn't have taken it personally. I should just trust that she is happy and making a life for herself. (Although she could move back to Idaho if she wanted to...)
On a bad note, I am again missing my very favorite holiday for about the third time. FML I want to do Halloween already. I don't care about all the other holidays! I just want to decorate for Halloween, but unfortunately that will not be possible.
On a good note, Kannon (Scott's best friend) is coming to visit us again. I am quite excited. They had a lot of fun the last time he came to visit and this could be the very last time that they see each other for a very long time! Kannon is being stationed far away from us!
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Things are changing... AGAIN
I haven't written in a while. It always takes me a few days to digest huge life changes. I only realize it is a turning point until after the fact. I can't even really tell anyone about it either. Not that there is anyone to tell. So here I am, telling nobody and everyone at the same time.
I got something that I have been wanting for at least a year and nine months. It is severely underwhelming, but also overwhelming. I never thought I would actually get it. I don't know what to do with it now that I have it. I did pray to God asking him to make the right decision for me, since I don't consider myself an adult that can make the right decisions for myself. I hope he was part of the decision-making process. I also hope that the decision that was made helps Scott. I want him to be happy and do what he wants to do. I hope that whatever happens he never grows to resent me because I want to further my education and do what I think would further me.
I hope that he also does something that furthers himself, and I hope he has the good fortune to be hired somewhere he wants to work.
Anyways, since I can't particularly go into that situation, I will over-analyze another.
I started back up my Facebook the other day to ask my once-friend how I should go about starting at BSU again, and all of a sudden, I got a message back saying to never speak to each other again. I was really taken aback. Since there are no names, I can safely say I saved this person's life. One night, I felt he/she was in danger of committing suicide, so I called the police. He/She thanked me and told me he/she really appreciated that I did that and that therapy was really needed. And then I am basically told to fuck off? That has really bothered me lately. I just want to know why. When I asked, I was just told "I am moving on from high school and can't do that if you are still giving me the time of day. Sorry." What the fuck does that even mean?
I don't know why the things people say to me affect me so much. I wish people would understand that what they say may actually make a difference in someone's life. Unfortunately, nobody really cares. I am just a bitch.
Also, on the topic of people saying things to me that I can't let go of, my bff told me I came second to her mean jerk of a husband she has known a fraction of the time she has known me. I can't even describe how much that hurt. I mean, even if you felt that way, you should never say it out loud. Like you don't tell obese people that they are fat and disgusting. However obvious, it is still hurtful to say out loud.
GOD SHUT UP NOBODY FUCKING GIVES A SHIT. You are just a fucking whiner.
Seriously. I am worthless. K bye!
I got something that I have been wanting for at least a year and nine months. It is severely underwhelming, but also overwhelming. I never thought I would actually get it. I don't know what to do with it now that I have it. I did pray to God asking him to make the right decision for me, since I don't consider myself an adult that can make the right decisions for myself. I hope he was part of the decision-making process. I also hope that the decision that was made helps Scott. I want him to be happy and do what he wants to do. I hope that whatever happens he never grows to resent me because I want to further my education and do what I think would further me.
I hope that he also does something that furthers himself, and I hope he has the good fortune to be hired somewhere he wants to work.
Anyways, since I can't particularly go into that situation, I will over-analyze another.
I started back up my Facebook the other day to ask my once-friend how I should go about starting at BSU again, and all of a sudden, I got a message back saying to never speak to each other again. I was really taken aback. Since there are no names, I can safely say I saved this person's life. One night, I felt he/she was in danger of committing suicide, so I called the police. He/She thanked me and told me he/she really appreciated that I did that and that therapy was really needed. And then I am basically told to fuck off? That has really bothered me lately. I just want to know why. When I asked, I was just told "I am moving on from high school and can't do that if you are still giving me the time of day. Sorry." What the fuck does that even mean?
I don't know why the things people say to me affect me so much. I wish people would understand that what they say may actually make a difference in someone's life. Unfortunately, nobody really cares. I am just a bitch.
Also, on the topic of people saying things to me that I can't let go of, my bff told me I came second to her mean jerk of a husband she has known a fraction of the time she has known me. I can't even describe how much that hurt. I mean, even if you felt that way, you should never say it out loud. Like you don't tell obese people that they are fat and disgusting. However obvious, it is still hurtful to say out loud.
GOD SHUT UP NOBODY FUCKING GIVES A SHIT. You are just a fucking whiner.
Seriously. I am worthless. K bye!
Friday, July 25, 2014
Misery
She just wanted to be with him. She planned to do anything she could to be with him. She went to the therapists to explain this, and they were very unhelpful. She was forced to act drastically. She decided that the only thing she could do was the most rash and difficult option. It wasn't supposed to escalate to the point that it did, but she felt like she had no other choice.
She was told that the only way to keep him with her was to go. The doctor on the phone made it sound like such a nice place, and so did the woman. She thought everything was going to go according to plan.
She was transported to the hospital in an ambulance. It was the first time she had ever been in an ambulance. Although he was with her, she already regretted the decision. She felt panicked, but she new if she let on, it would only make the situation worse. She was on a stretcher, sitting up and strapped in.
When she got to the hospital, she was taken to a room with only a bed fitted in a paper sheet, and a chair. It was bereft of art or color, and the only sign of life were grubby hand prints on the wall. It gave her a strong sense of foreboding. She waited for a long time, but she couldn't tell how long because there was no clocks. Finally a man in uniform came in to speak to her. He asked routine questions, and she answered them truthfully. He told her another person would be in to talk to her. While she was waiting, a nurse came in to take her vitals. The blood pressure cuff really hurt. The nurse treated her cautiously, as if she were some sort of feral creature she was sure would bite her at any second. After she was done, the nurse asked her to take of all her clothes, put them into a bag, and put on a hospital gown. It was grey, and spotted with purple and teal dolphins. It made her feel choked.
The second man in uniform came and asked her about the same questions, and told her it was not his job to make sure that she could stay with her husband. Following this man was a woman in uniform. This woman also said it wasn't her job to keep her husband with her.
At this point, she started to let her panic out. She became desperate. She started crying for her husband, she needed to make everyone understand how important this was to her. She knew that she wasn't normal, that she made everyone uncomfortable with the amount of affection she held for her husband. People described their relationship as "dependent"....
The doctors told her that she had to volunteer herself to be committed for a few days. If she did not volunteer, the doctors said the police would come get her and that they would take her to another hospital and she would stay there for an amount of time they could not determine. She knew what was expected. She doubted that anyone would rather be taken against their will in handcuffs to someplace they didn't know. She was asked multiple times if she would volunteer herself, but she didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of having power over her, but she knew she had to. Eventually, after being asked multiple times, she said yes, as spitefully and harshly as she could. She put every ounce of hatred for the uniforms and their misplaced worry. How could she expect them to understand? She felt silly for even expecting other people to help her. The only person that could ever help her was her husband, and he couldn't this time.
After a really long while, they rolled a wheelchair to the door and asked her if she was ready. Wordlessly, she sat in it, being careful to quell her tears. She wasn't going to look weak anymore.
She was taken into the elevator, to the 5th floor. The mental health ward. The loony bin.
When she was wheeled in, she could feel everyone looking at her. They were all dressed in brown pajamas and robes with snaps. The ward looked like something out of a movie, but much more terrifying. Her heart was pounding, but she was determined not to cry. Her vitals were taken again, and her husband was asked to leave. Her heart actually felt like her heart sank. The loneliness squeezed her heart.
She was taken into a bathroom and asked to get naked again so she could be dressed like the others. A uniform took her bra away because it had underwire in it. A white hospital bracelet was put on her and she was ushered into what looked like some sort of conference room and was sat down in an ugly pink chair with no cushions.
She was asked more questions and she signed papers. Papers that said they had the right to restrain her and put her in a room by herself. They gave her a stinking tray filled with bland and tasteless chunks. She choked down as much of it as she could. She didn't want to make it look like she had no appetite; that was a sign of depression. Someone came into the room and informed them that her husband was there. Once all the papers were signed, she wanted to see him.
She was told she had to have blood taken first, however. Two uniforms took her into a tiny nurse's room and sat her on the brown table draped in paper. She jokingly asked if anyone had ever thrown up while having their blood taken, and the uniforms replied that they hadn't. One arm got pricked and the blood just stopped flowing. The other arm got pricked. Before she actually believed it, she said she felt sick. But then she felt dizzy. Each second that ticked by made her feel more dizzy. She felt as though she had been spinning for hours. She told the uniforms, and told them she was going to throw up. They held a bag up to her face and let her retch. She felt her eyes rolling back into her head and was sure people were talking but could not understand. She suddenly felt so tired. The next thing she knew she was brought her assigned water bottle to wash down the bile. When she became more aware of her surroundings, she touched her forehead and realized she had been sweating bullets. All she could think about was visiting hours and that her husband was waiting for her.
She wiped herself off and let herself be escorted into the common area. The uniforms buzzed him in. They took anything away from him that was slightly pointed. They sat down at the most secluded table. He told her he loved her and started to cry. He also told her he was sorry. She couldn't be sentimental because she knew she would start crying, and she couldn't cry in front of everyone. She had to keep her resolve and be strong. It hurt her knowing that he would be sleeping alone tonight. He wasn't usually in that circumstance.
He was told he had to leave again, and she was left to herself. She stayed at the table, and stared at the schedule posted on the wall for an hour or two. Then she was asked to gather around with the others. She was told that isolation makes depression worse. She got the picture. If she wanted out, she needed to miraculously recover and banish all signs of unhappiness. She sat with the others, and was told to state her name, why she was there, and her current mood. Mostly everyone there was there for depression, one for anger management, one for PTSD from sexual abuse, and one from heroin addiction. Then it was time for bed.
Her roommate had tried to commit suicide by overdosing about 15 times. Before she got into the room, her roommate had already gone to bed, which was thankful because she didn't think she could stand talking anymore. She laid down in a bed that had no pillow, and was only dressed with a thin sheet and hospital blanket that smelled like hard water. She laid there for hours, just trying not to make noise and pretend to be asleep when the uniforms stood in the window to check the rooms. She finally fell asleep, and when she woke, she felt rested, but realized it was not morning. There was no clock in the room, and she did not know what time it is. She really had to go to the bathroom, but was afraid of waking her roommate. She waited until she was in pain to use the restroom, and then laid back down. She waited even longer, for she didn't know whether she would get in trouble for being up. She saw another patient through the window pacing the hall, and ventured out to see what time it was. Unfortunately, she had another hour and fifteen minutes until five forty-five, which was when everyone was supposed to wake up. She went back into her room and waited more.
When it was five forty-five, everyone was instructed to form a line to get their vitals taken. It was then back to the common area to stare at each other. They waited two more hours to get food, which was unsweetened oatmeal and carton milk, and an old slice of bread. They then had a few little classes on how to properly communicate with people. Then came "art therapy". Everyone was directed to draw their current mood and the mood that they would like to be. Everyone's current mood was dark and gloomy, but she made sure she did not portray how scared and worried she was. When she shared, she said she was on a "roller coaster that only goes up".
After art therapy, the doctors called her into the conference room and asked her all the same questions. The doctor asking the questions had a tick, and kept twitching his head to the side. She was annoyed that this was the person "treating" her. Through the jerking, he asked if she was she having any thoughts of suicide. Was she in a better place? What was she going to do if she was feeling like hurting herself? How did she ever get over her husband ever being gone in the first place? Was talking always hard for her? How was her relationship with her father as a child opposed to now? Why did she feel like she didn't want to be alone?
Of course, she lied. She knew what the doctors wanted to hear, and made her best effort to be convincing. Her only goal was to leave that place and never come back. She answered all the questions optimistically and eagerly. She made it sound like she was invincible, and now that she knows how it would affect others, she would never even consider it. She told them it was entirely possible for her to handle now, and that she knew what she needed to do.
She was told that the only way to keep him with her was to go. The doctor on the phone made it sound like such a nice place, and so did the woman. She thought everything was going to go according to plan.
She was transported to the hospital in an ambulance. It was the first time she had ever been in an ambulance. Although he was with her, she already regretted the decision. She felt panicked, but she new if she let on, it would only make the situation worse. She was on a stretcher, sitting up and strapped in.
When she got to the hospital, she was taken to a room with only a bed fitted in a paper sheet, and a chair. It was bereft of art or color, and the only sign of life were grubby hand prints on the wall. It gave her a strong sense of foreboding. She waited for a long time, but she couldn't tell how long because there was no clocks. Finally a man in uniform came in to speak to her. He asked routine questions, and she answered them truthfully. He told her another person would be in to talk to her. While she was waiting, a nurse came in to take her vitals. The blood pressure cuff really hurt. The nurse treated her cautiously, as if she were some sort of feral creature she was sure would bite her at any second. After she was done, the nurse asked her to take of all her clothes, put them into a bag, and put on a hospital gown. It was grey, and spotted with purple and teal dolphins. It made her feel choked.
The second man in uniform came and asked her about the same questions, and told her it was not his job to make sure that she could stay with her husband. Following this man was a woman in uniform. This woman also said it wasn't her job to keep her husband with her.
At this point, she started to let her panic out. She became desperate. She started crying for her husband, she needed to make everyone understand how important this was to her. She knew that she wasn't normal, that she made everyone uncomfortable with the amount of affection she held for her husband. People described their relationship as "dependent"....
The doctors told her that she had to volunteer herself to be committed for a few days. If she did not volunteer, the doctors said the police would come get her and that they would take her to another hospital and she would stay there for an amount of time they could not determine. She knew what was expected. She doubted that anyone would rather be taken against their will in handcuffs to someplace they didn't know. She was asked multiple times if she would volunteer herself, but she didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of having power over her, but she knew she had to. Eventually, after being asked multiple times, she said yes, as spitefully and harshly as she could. She put every ounce of hatred for the uniforms and their misplaced worry. How could she expect them to understand? She felt silly for even expecting other people to help her. The only person that could ever help her was her husband, and he couldn't this time.
After a really long while, they rolled a wheelchair to the door and asked her if she was ready. Wordlessly, she sat in it, being careful to quell her tears. She wasn't going to look weak anymore.
She was taken into the elevator, to the 5th floor. The mental health ward. The loony bin.
When she was wheeled in, she could feel everyone looking at her. They were all dressed in brown pajamas and robes with snaps. The ward looked like something out of a movie, but much more terrifying. Her heart was pounding, but she was determined not to cry. Her vitals were taken again, and her husband was asked to leave. Her heart actually felt like her heart sank. The loneliness squeezed her heart.
She was taken into a bathroom and asked to get naked again so she could be dressed like the others. A uniform took her bra away because it had underwire in it. A white hospital bracelet was put on her and she was ushered into what looked like some sort of conference room and was sat down in an ugly pink chair with no cushions.
She was asked more questions and she signed papers. Papers that said they had the right to restrain her and put her in a room by herself. They gave her a stinking tray filled with bland and tasteless chunks. She choked down as much of it as she could. She didn't want to make it look like she had no appetite; that was a sign of depression. Someone came into the room and informed them that her husband was there. Once all the papers were signed, she wanted to see him.
She was told she had to have blood taken first, however. Two uniforms took her into a tiny nurse's room and sat her on the brown table draped in paper. She jokingly asked if anyone had ever thrown up while having their blood taken, and the uniforms replied that they hadn't. One arm got pricked and the blood just stopped flowing. The other arm got pricked. Before she actually believed it, she said she felt sick. But then she felt dizzy. Each second that ticked by made her feel more dizzy. She felt as though she had been spinning for hours. She told the uniforms, and told them she was going to throw up. They held a bag up to her face and let her retch. She felt her eyes rolling back into her head and was sure people were talking but could not understand. She suddenly felt so tired. The next thing she knew she was brought her assigned water bottle to wash down the bile. When she became more aware of her surroundings, she touched her forehead and realized she had been sweating bullets. All she could think about was visiting hours and that her husband was waiting for her.
She wiped herself off and let herself be escorted into the common area. The uniforms buzzed him in. They took anything away from him that was slightly pointed. They sat down at the most secluded table. He told her he loved her and started to cry. He also told her he was sorry. She couldn't be sentimental because she knew she would start crying, and she couldn't cry in front of everyone. She had to keep her resolve and be strong. It hurt her knowing that he would be sleeping alone tonight. He wasn't usually in that circumstance.
He was told he had to leave again, and she was left to herself. She stayed at the table, and stared at the schedule posted on the wall for an hour or two. Then she was asked to gather around with the others. She was told that isolation makes depression worse. She got the picture. If she wanted out, she needed to miraculously recover and banish all signs of unhappiness. She sat with the others, and was told to state her name, why she was there, and her current mood. Mostly everyone there was there for depression, one for anger management, one for PTSD from sexual abuse, and one from heroin addiction. Then it was time for bed.
Her roommate had tried to commit suicide by overdosing about 15 times. Before she got into the room, her roommate had already gone to bed, which was thankful because she didn't think she could stand talking anymore. She laid down in a bed that had no pillow, and was only dressed with a thin sheet and hospital blanket that smelled like hard water. She laid there for hours, just trying not to make noise and pretend to be asleep when the uniforms stood in the window to check the rooms. She finally fell asleep, and when she woke, she felt rested, but realized it was not morning. There was no clock in the room, and she did not know what time it is. She really had to go to the bathroom, but was afraid of waking her roommate. She waited until she was in pain to use the restroom, and then laid back down. She waited even longer, for she didn't know whether she would get in trouble for being up. She saw another patient through the window pacing the hall, and ventured out to see what time it was. Unfortunately, she had another hour and fifteen minutes until five forty-five, which was when everyone was supposed to wake up. She went back into her room and waited more.
When it was five forty-five, everyone was instructed to form a line to get their vitals taken. It was then back to the common area to stare at each other. They waited two more hours to get food, which was unsweetened oatmeal and carton milk, and an old slice of bread. They then had a few little classes on how to properly communicate with people. Then came "art therapy". Everyone was directed to draw their current mood and the mood that they would like to be. Everyone's current mood was dark and gloomy, but she made sure she did not portray how scared and worried she was. When she shared, she said she was on a "roller coaster that only goes up".
After art therapy, the doctors called her into the conference room and asked her all the same questions. The doctor asking the questions had a tick, and kept twitching his head to the side. She was annoyed that this was the person "treating" her. Through the jerking, he asked if she was she having any thoughts of suicide. Was she in a better place? What was she going to do if she was feeling like hurting herself? How did she ever get over her husband ever being gone in the first place? Was talking always hard for her? How was her relationship with her father as a child opposed to now? Why did she feel like she didn't want to be alone?
Of course, she lied. She knew what the doctors wanted to hear, and made her best effort to be convincing. Her only goal was to leave that place and never come back. She answered all the questions optimistically and eagerly. She made it sound like she was invincible, and now that she knows how it would affect others, she would never even consider it. She told them it was entirely possible for her to handle now, and that she knew what she needed to do.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Walk a Mile in these Louboutins
but they don't wear these shits where I'm from
I'm not hating, I'm just telling you
tryna let you know what the fuck that I been through
I was told today that I am narcissistic and pathetic... awesome.
I am not sure how I come off as narcissistic, but pathetic, maybe. What people say to me hurts me, and I wish that weren't true. I feel like people who don't like me say more truths than those who do, because they are trying to spare my feelers.
I do want to know more about myself from other's perspectives though. It is interesting to me that I was told those things. I had no idea. And I was pretty sure I didn't do anything to antagonize this lovely person. It was just said.
Well ANYWAYSSSSS
I planned some stuff for Scott's birthday. We aren't spending in Idaho anymore, but I figured since he is turning 21 I could have him buy some marsala wine and make him chicken marsala. That is nearly his favorite dish, but he is always down for some beef stroganoff.
I really enjoy that just by reading some shit I can magically create some edible nummies, especially if I have never made that dish before. It makes me feel ever so barely accomplished.
Oh, fun fact. I have finished my first scrapbook. I don't know if I have mentioned that before (or that I even scrapbook at all), but the first one is done. I am pretty proud of it. I would like to say it turned out well. I have started another, and I am probably about 8 pages in already. Scrapbooking is good and bad.... I should not be spending money for anything, but I really want to save these pictures and not just have them on my phone for no one to see. (Sidenote, 80 8x10s cost me only like four dollars. I have this cool FreePrints app that you just pay the shipping, so that isn't so bad.)
No money, no family.
As you can tell, I have Iggy Azalea stuck in my head. I don't know why, but I do like that song, and I am not a big rap fan. Speaking of rap, everyone here seems to listen to it at MIND BOGGLING volumes. My windows shake, and I am like 30 feet from the road. Calm down guise, you won't be able to hear soon!!
Last night there was this wicked thunderstorm. I went outside and stood in the rain until I was completely soaked through my clothes. I just sat there and enjoyed the cold rain. I was pretty cold. The rain was a bit chilly. I felt good, and I also felt like crying.
Scott has finally talked to someone about the Navy, and I guess he is getting things sorted out so that we can just go home. I pray to God that everything goes okay, and that our life will just get better. I want to feel better about something. I want to feel successful and in-charge of my life again. I want to be able to handle the stress of life without even batting a well-coated eyelash.
I like chocolate milk.
OKAY BYE
I'm not hating, I'm just telling you
tryna let you know what the fuck that I been through
I was told today that I am narcissistic and pathetic... awesome.
I am not sure how I come off as narcissistic, but pathetic, maybe. What people say to me hurts me, and I wish that weren't true. I feel like people who don't like me say more truths than those who do, because they are trying to spare my feelers.
I do want to know more about myself from other's perspectives though. It is interesting to me that I was told those things. I had no idea. And I was pretty sure I didn't do anything to antagonize this lovely person. It was just said.
Well ANYWAYSSSSS
I planned some stuff for Scott's birthday. We aren't spending in Idaho anymore, but I figured since he is turning 21 I could have him buy some marsala wine and make him chicken marsala. That is nearly his favorite dish, but he is always down for some beef stroganoff.
I really enjoy that just by reading some shit I can magically create some edible nummies, especially if I have never made that dish before. It makes me feel ever so barely accomplished.
Oh, fun fact. I have finished my first scrapbook. I don't know if I have mentioned that before (or that I even scrapbook at all), but the first one is done. I am pretty proud of it. I would like to say it turned out well. I have started another, and I am probably about 8 pages in already. Scrapbooking is good and bad.... I should not be spending money for anything, but I really want to save these pictures and not just have them on my phone for no one to see. (Sidenote, 80 8x10s cost me only like four dollars. I have this cool FreePrints app that you just pay the shipping, so that isn't so bad.)
No money, no family.
As you can tell, I have Iggy Azalea stuck in my head. I don't know why, but I do like that song, and I am not a big rap fan. Speaking of rap, everyone here seems to listen to it at MIND BOGGLING volumes. My windows shake, and I am like 30 feet from the road. Calm down guise, you won't be able to hear soon!!
Last night there was this wicked thunderstorm. I went outside and stood in the rain until I was completely soaked through my clothes. I just sat there and enjoyed the cold rain. I was pretty cold. The rain was a bit chilly. I felt good, and I also felt like crying.
Scott has finally talked to someone about the Navy, and I guess he is getting things sorted out so that we can just go home. I pray to God that everything goes okay, and that our life will just get better. I want to feel better about something. I want to feel successful and in-charge of my life again. I want to be able to handle the stress of life without even batting a well-coated eyelash.
I like chocolate milk.
OKAY BYE
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Clocks on Roller Skates
I seriously am baffled at how fast time is flying. I have now lived in Virginia for about eight whole months, and it feels super weird. It is now summer time, and the pool is open. People are frequenting the beach here, (I still don't know why that is such a big deal. The beach is really boring) and I have been working a little bit. I don't even know how I feel about my life right now. I have moments of "DEAR HOLY MONKS, WILL THIS DAY EVER END?!" and I have moments of "I wish this day could last just a little bit longer." I have honestly tried to stay awake longer just so that tomorrow didn't have to come. Sometimes, when the day is good, I really am scared of tomorrow. When the day is bad, I envision tomorrow being thousands upon thousands of times better, but it usually just turns out that it goes by too quickly and we can't fit everything in one day.
I just really don't want to live here anymore. I can't express that enough. I know I have said it way too many times, but I really do mean it. I just want to go home. Who would have thought that I would be saying that. If you had told me 2 years ago that I would be living by the beach on the East Coast, I would have just laughed it off and said "yeah right...". Everyone in Idaho has these romantic ideas about the ocean because we really don't see it that often, but I could surely just never see it again. I am always afraid I will never get to come home. I just don't have the money for it, and the whole family reunion thing that was supposed to go on in a couple weeks is not happening now. I was too excited for that. I guess I did it to myself. Did I actually think I was going to get a free trip to Idaho? Haha.
Scott did get a promotion, but lucky for us, some bills that had the wrong address are now finding their way back to us, which is about $200. My sweet husband has also been really fond of using the credit card lately, which scares me to no end. that is about $200 as well. Hopefully everything will turn out okay. I may have to use my saved up money from working this month, which really sucks, but I will be working a three day weekend this week, so hopefully I can amass a tiny little pile of money to keep in the nest egg. I know that isn't very much, but what can I do.
I miss having friends and people to just talk to. I took that for granted in Idaho. I took my job, my college, and my family all for granted. I am thinking that this may be a lesson God is trying to teach me. I should have been more grateful. I definitely try really hard not to take Scott for granted. We spend every waking minute (and sleeping minute, for that matter) together. We shop together, I go with him to get his hair cut, and we even go together to get gas.
A few days ago (which was Memorial Day) I spent most of the day at work with him, standing in his shoes, and learning what it is like for him while he is cranking (which is working with the cooks, everyone has to do it at some point it turns out). It is awful. I felt what I can only imagine it is like to be in prison. Everyone is out to get you, no one is friendly and they all fend for themselves, some dudes like to think about women getting beat on for sexual pleasure, the women are all burly or just plain assholes, and everyone stares. You are told what to do every single second, and not even in a semi-nice way. I don't know who in the hell would ever choose to do something like that. I feel like you would really have to be desperate for money to ever go into the armed forces, especially if you have a family that wants you around. I feel like these men and women don't think they have a chance in going to college and doing something they actually want to do. Scott wants to become an aeronautical engineer, and why shouldn't he? His grandfather worked at NASA, and his dad designed planes, and it really interests him. I hope that he follows his dreams, and he doesn't let anyone crush them. I know that he is smart, and has way more potential than to be yelled at constantly and carting dishes around a 20 year old tin can for ungrateful, rude, selfish individuals. I now know where he is coming from when he says he had a bad day at work. Anyone with any kind of authority can just screw you over completely, with basically no checks. They decide what you do and what you wear and how you speak and even how you stand. I know that is part of being in the military, but WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT THAT???? I know that Scott's recruiter lied to him, and he lied to me. He told Scott he would never be deployed, that he could be stationed in Washington, that everything would be okay. I guess that is their job, because if they told the truth, nobody would want to do it unless they had no self esteem.
I guess that is all for my crazy military hating rant. I know that the previous paragraph will offend jillions, but I am just speaking my mind, from my point of view. I just want this nightmare to be over. I know people are thinking "but someday, you are gonna wish you had that stable income!", but the money we do have (which is nothing pretty much, we break perfectly even) can't buy friends or family or company or someone to talk to. I would be confiding in someone I trust instead of just being another opinionated internet entity, but I don't have anyone to listen, nor anyone to care. "Well why don't you just call your family/friends?" Because they are so far away from my life and I am so far away from theirs. We don't have anything in common anymore and it is just awkward. Even talking to my little sister who I have loved like my own child has gotten really weird. We don't have much to say to each other. I want help. I don't know how to get it though, or from whom. I have taken to talking to strangers, which only lasts for about three days, and they don't give a shit about you, because you are just there to pass the time. They aren't there to invest in friendship, they just want instant gratification, and I will admit I do too. We all just want someone to talk to. Someone who gives a shit about the things that happen to us, so that our lives seem to have some sort of meaning, other than just meandering though this huge abyss of fucking nothing. I sound like a petulant teenager. I am. I am such a stereotype. Whiny little white girl. First world problems. Well, Maslow's Hierarchy of needs comes into mind. I learned about it in Psych 101. I miss college.
okay bye.
I just really don't want to live here anymore. I can't express that enough. I know I have said it way too many times, but I really do mean it. I just want to go home. Who would have thought that I would be saying that. If you had told me 2 years ago that I would be living by the beach on the East Coast, I would have just laughed it off and said "yeah right...". Everyone in Idaho has these romantic ideas about the ocean because we really don't see it that often, but I could surely just never see it again. I am always afraid I will never get to come home. I just don't have the money for it, and the whole family reunion thing that was supposed to go on in a couple weeks is not happening now. I was too excited for that. I guess I did it to myself. Did I actually think I was going to get a free trip to Idaho? Haha.
Scott did get a promotion, but lucky for us, some bills that had the wrong address are now finding their way back to us, which is about $200. My sweet husband has also been really fond of using the credit card lately, which scares me to no end. that is about $200 as well. Hopefully everything will turn out okay. I may have to use my saved up money from working this month, which really sucks, but I will be working a three day weekend this week, so hopefully I can amass a tiny little pile of money to keep in the nest egg. I know that isn't very much, but what can I do.
I miss having friends and people to just talk to. I took that for granted in Idaho. I took my job, my college, and my family all for granted. I am thinking that this may be a lesson God is trying to teach me. I should have been more grateful. I definitely try really hard not to take Scott for granted. We spend every waking minute (and sleeping minute, for that matter) together. We shop together, I go with him to get his hair cut, and we even go together to get gas.
A few days ago (which was Memorial Day) I spent most of the day at work with him, standing in his shoes, and learning what it is like for him while he is cranking (which is working with the cooks, everyone has to do it at some point it turns out). It is awful. I felt what I can only imagine it is like to be in prison. Everyone is out to get you, no one is friendly and they all fend for themselves, some dudes like to think about women getting beat on for sexual pleasure, the women are all burly or just plain assholes, and everyone stares. You are told what to do every single second, and not even in a semi-nice way. I don't know who in the hell would ever choose to do something like that. I feel like you would really have to be desperate for money to ever go into the armed forces, especially if you have a family that wants you around. I feel like these men and women don't think they have a chance in going to college and doing something they actually want to do. Scott wants to become an aeronautical engineer, and why shouldn't he? His grandfather worked at NASA, and his dad designed planes, and it really interests him. I hope that he follows his dreams, and he doesn't let anyone crush them. I know that he is smart, and has way more potential than to be yelled at constantly and carting dishes around a 20 year old tin can for ungrateful, rude, selfish individuals. I now know where he is coming from when he says he had a bad day at work. Anyone with any kind of authority can just screw you over completely, with basically no checks. They decide what you do and what you wear and how you speak and even how you stand. I know that is part of being in the military, but WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT THAT???? I know that Scott's recruiter lied to him, and he lied to me. He told Scott he would never be deployed, that he could be stationed in Washington, that everything would be okay. I guess that is their job, because if they told the truth, nobody would want to do it unless they had no self esteem.
I guess that is all for my crazy military hating rant. I know that the previous paragraph will offend jillions, but I am just speaking my mind, from my point of view. I just want this nightmare to be over. I know people are thinking "but someday, you are gonna wish you had that stable income!", but the money we do have (which is nothing pretty much, we break perfectly even) can't buy friends or family or company or someone to talk to. I would be confiding in someone I trust instead of just being another opinionated internet entity, but I don't have anyone to listen, nor anyone to care. "Well why don't you just call your family/friends?" Because they are so far away from my life and I am so far away from theirs. We don't have anything in common anymore and it is just awkward. Even talking to my little sister who I have loved like my own child has gotten really weird. We don't have much to say to each other. I want help. I don't know how to get it though, or from whom. I have taken to talking to strangers, which only lasts for about three days, and they don't give a shit about you, because you are just there to pass the time. They aren't there to invest in friendship, they just want instant gratification, and I will admit I do too. We all just want someone to talk to. Someone who gives a shit about the things that happen to us, so that our lives seem to have some sort of meaning, other than just meandering though this huge abyss of fucking nothing. I sound like a petulant teenager. I am. I am such a stereotype. Whiny little white girl. First world problems. Well, Maslow's Hierarchy of needs comes into mind. I learned about it in Psych 101. I miss college.
okay bye.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Update on the Out-Law Letter
HAHA, see what I did there? OUT LAW instead of In-Law. :D
So here is the letter. I don't know why I want to post it, but it has really changed me. I think about it all the time. It really hurts me. I don't know how someone could take anything I have ever done as wrong and twisted as this woman views me. I know, I will never be good enough for her son, but damn, that was harsh. I mean, I liked her before this. Not to mention it was pretty childish. She could have just said it to my face. I dunno if I mentioned it in my other post, but I did write her a letter back, but not before I called her and tried to have it sorted out. She wouldn't have any of it and hung up on me. And since I wanted to be heard, I wrote her an 11 page letter being totally honest. More on that after I type up this letter.
"Dear Scott,
You won't talk to me for more than 5 min. so I am writing. I like many others, do not approve of your choice to get married now. But it is not my decision. I just hope you know what you are getting into with the girl you chose to be your wife. Whether you think so-- you have been blinded by her beauty + charm. She is like a black widow spider + you are caught in her web. The web of lies, manipulation and that she only cares for what she wants. I hope you can live up to her expectations. I would not dought that when you don't she will be gone, you will be heart-broken and probably having to pay her money the rest of your life. I too, was caught in her web of-we just don't have a lot of money, none of my family will help, + the long sob story that came back to kick me in the face after I offered to help, and at least take care of the reception, so there would be less pressure. Instead I get- Oh someone wants to do my boquet I got gifted a cake + wedding planner- I don't need your help now. Who cares if you spent time + money, I can get my own way now, I'm sure was her thought. Her comment of "you only taught yourself how to do flowers" "I guess your pretty good" was rude. I'm sure she wants professional- Stacy was doing the cake, bought everything, "Oh I got gifted a cake"-Don't need you unprofessional person, so what if you already started on it, and spent money. Heaven forbid we tell someone--we already have someone doing flowers, decorations, cake. Nope--we were only family not professionals. Usually both families are included in wedding--not this one. Only asked Eric out of neccesity No girls as bridesmaids, not photographer, not cake, not decorations, nothing. You better stay close to her family, because most of us are done. Who even cared if people in our family or friends were invited Not Hope! She only knows how to use people to get what she wants. Good Luck!
Before you leave--pay registration on car of the car is not yours. Seperate the phone bill or I will discontinue your service. You can come get your stuff without Hope. I want all my stuff back from wedding. Maybe when you grow up + show me some respect I'll be a little happier to associate with you. Right now-- no-- you won't stand up for yourself as long as Hope has your balls in her hands. She will walk all over you + you are allowing it. I hope all works out well for you two. I just don't see it happening. Still your mom! I love you!
Marriage
Its not just about the Bride + Groom- its molding of families-which you have made no effort to do. Families do exist-can't ignore
1. Grow up Take responsibility (I know your trying) Thank + Apologize to Family + Friends
2. You don't need everything "new" buy from DI, Goodwill, Craigslist. Many a newlywed has slept on the floor.
3. Get your bride-mental health
Maybe you too
4. Don't live outside your means-She is high maintenance
5. Don't give up on education for hers she needs her own career
6. Talk to your Heavenly Father more you will need all the help you can get
7. Get involved with Church or Navy support groups She will have someone to turn to, when your not there
8. Make Decisions-- You will not have family to turn to for help You've burned bridges Maybe that will help you grow up
9. Wish you the best of luck
10. When you grow up, maybe you will remember your family + friends that you have tossed aside for Hope.
Love you, My son"
So there you have it. Airing my dirty laundry all out in the open. (The spelling errors are hers, I copied it EXACTLY)....I don't have anyone else to talk to, so I am just spilling it here. I think about that letter so damned often. I have never had MY WORST ENEMIES say anything like that about me. She took anything I did and took it as a threat.
Also, if I were such a gold digger and all I wanted was to get his money, why would I have spent all my money to move across the country, quit my job, and quit school just to be IN HIS PRESENCE??? I must be an awful stupid gold digger. I made more money at some entry level job than Scott is making now, to be honest. The Navy doesn't pay you much unless you become an officer and are in FOREVER. I mean, okay then.
But yep. I just figured since I found it and I am not over it, that I would finish the story.
So here is the letter. I don't know why I want to post it, but it has really changed me. I think about it all the time. It really hurts me. I don't know how someone could take anything I have ever done as wrong and twisted as this woman views me. I know, I will never be good enough for her son, but damn, that was harsh. I mean, I liked her before this. Not to mention it was pretty childish. She could have just said it to my face. I dunno if I mentioned it in my other post, but I did write her a letter back, but not before I called her and tried to have it sorted out. She wouldn't have any of it and hung up on me. And since I wanted to be heard, I wrote her an 11 page letter being totally honest. More on that after I type up this letter.
"Dear Scott,
You won't talk to me for more than 5 min. so I am writing. I like many others, do not approve of your choice to get married now. But it is not my decision. I just hope you know what you are getting into with the girl you chose to be your wife. Whether you think so-- you have been blinded by her beauty + charm. She is like a black widow spider + you are caught in her web. The web of lies, manipulation and that she only cares for what she wants. I hope you can live up to her expectations. I would not dought that when you don't she will be gone, you will be heart-broken and probably having to pay her money the rest of your life. I too, was caught in her web of-we just don't have a lot of money, none of my family will help, + the long sob story that came back to kick me in the face after I offered to help, and at least take care of the reception, so there would be less pressure. Instead I get- Oh someone wants to do my boquet I got gifted a cake + wedding planner- I don't need your help now. Who cares if you spent time + money, I can get my own way now, I'm sure was her thought. Her comment of "you only taught yourself how to do flowers" "I guess your pretty good" was rude. I'm sure she wants professional- Stacy was doing the cake, bought everything, "Oh I got gifted a cake"-Don't need you unprofessional person, so what if you already started on it, and spent money. Heaven forbid we tell someone--we already have someone doing flowers, decorations, cake. Nope--we were only family not professionals. Usually both families are included in wedding--not this one. Only asked Eric out of neccesity No girls as bridesmaids, not photographer, not cake, not decorations, nothing. You better stay close to her family, because most of us are done. Who even cared if people in our family or friends were invited Not Hope! She only knows how to use people to get what she wants. Good Luck!
Before you leave--pay registration on car of the car is not yours. Seperate the phone bill or I will discontinue your service. You can come get your stuff without Hope. I want all my stuff back from wedding. Maybe when you grow up + show me some respect I'll be a little happier to associate with you. Right now-- no-- you won't stand up for yourself as long as Hope has your balls in her hands. She will walk all over you + you are allowing it. I hope all works out well for you two. I just don't see it happening. Still your mom! I love you!
Marriage
Its not just about the Bride + Groom- its molding of families-which you have made no effort to do. Families do exist-can't ignore
1. Grow up Take responsibility (I know your trying) Thank + Apologize to Family + Friends
2. You don't need everything "new" buy from DI, Goodwill, Craigslist. Many a newlywed has slept on the floor.
3. Get your bride-mental health
Maybe you too
4. Don't live outside your means-She is high maintenance
5. Don't give up on education for hers she needs her own career
6. Talk to your Heavenly Father more you will need all the help you can get
7. Get involved with Church or Navy support groups She will have someone to turn to, when your not there
8. Make Decisions-- You will not have family to turn to for help You've burned bridges Maybe that will help you grow up
9. Wish you the best of luck
10. When you grow up, maybe you will remember your family + friends that you have tossed aside for Hope.
Love you, My son"
So there you have it. Airing my dirty laundry all out in the open. (The spelling errors are hers, I copied it EXACTLY)....I don't have anyone else to talk to, so I am just spilling it here. I think about that letter so damned often. I have never had MY WORST ENEMIES say anything like that about me. She took anything I did and took it as a threat.
I never said "You ONLY taught yourself how to do flowers"... I said something like "Wow, looks great, where did you learn to do that? Oh, you taught yourself? You're good!"
I mentioned that in the letter, that she took it WAY the wrong way and that maybe she just was too ashamed herself. I never purposely made her feel that way. I knew she did not have a lot of money, so when people offered to help out, I told her about it thinking that it would be less of a burden to her! But then she apparently thought that was because I hated everything she did. The only rejection I offered was when she was spending money. I knew she wanted to help, but I felt guilty. Like she said in her letter, SHE OFFERED. It really is too bad she took everything I did so backwardly. I had no idea I was such a bitch. Then there was the cake thing. Yeah, Stacy spent money. So I paid her back, in full. $200. Not that I got any proof it was that much, but I PAID IT ANYWAYS.Also, if I were such a gold digger and all I wanted was to get his money, why would I have spent all my money to move across the country, quit my job, and quit school just to be IN HIS PRESENCE??? I must be an awful stupid gold digger. I made more money at some entry level job than Scott is making now, to be honest. The Navy doesn't pay you much unless you become an officer and are in FOREVER. I mean, okay then.
But yep. I just figured since I found it and I am not over it, that I would finish the story.
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