I don’t know if I want to write. But I haven’t in a while so I sort of feel obligated to. There’s also this confusing mess where most of the posts I’ve seen recently talk about viewers and followers and building your blog and blah blah blah, and that’s not what mine is about. But since that’s all I’ve been reading it makes me feel like I’m  doing things “wrong”, and so there’s the added pressure of thinking “no one wants to read about my boring, self-inflicted life bs”. But that’s what my blog is for. It’s for me to write, and whine, and cry, and laugh, and ramble, and do whatever the F I want because it’s my blog, for me, my mental health. It’s not for followers and now I feel like I’m going on a tangent and mildly ranting when really I’m not mad at anyone.

 

/sigh

 

Hannah is moved in. John is moved out. Trevor and Danielle have been packing. There is so much more space in the apartment now. It’s so much cleaner, and that aspect of it will only get better in the coming weeks.

 

Hannah is super extroverted, so any time I so much as move I’m guaranteed a conversation. I am worried this is going to wear on me and that I will become resentful and feel trapped any time I’m at home. It doesn’t help that she has a light work / school load so the past days she’s been home the same times I have been. I get very little “alone” time, though right now seems to be ok. She’s in the living room and I’m in my room, typing on my desktop that I have set up.

 

I was able to clear up a crap ton of space on my solid state drive. 68 gigs actually. I reinstalled MS Office though I need to look at buying a license for that. It’s on the to-do list for next pay check actually. Already written down so it’s official.

 

The room Zane and I moved into, John’s old room, is pretty much set up the way I want it. I need to hang the cards from my mom, but that’s the last thing for the room. The rest of it is buying things for the bathroom, or curtains. Little things that would make it better, but aren’t really needed.

 

I’m super tight on money right now. I had to pay an extra 100 for the electricity deposit since we need to change the account over to our names rather than Trevor’s. I have to pay the storage unit for an extra month since we agreed keeping everything where it’s at will make moving easier in the long run.  I was super irresponsible and spent about 50 at Home Depot so I could organize the closet better, along with going out to eat a handful of times with Zane. I’ll survive though. I’ve been in much worse situations. I also paid 500 on the credit card. Which is a whole story…

 

I guess my card was “compromised” so Bank of America wanted to be nice and responsible. They canceled my card to make sure fraudulent activity wouldn’t occur and issued me a new one, which should have arrived in seven to ten business days. No biggie. I didn’t need the card right away. I could make it until the card got here.

 

Guess what never showed up and almost screwed me over? Yeah. My new credit card. I called on Monday asking if it had been sent out. Was told that it had. Responded with, well I don’t have it and I need it to make a payment and to buy groceries. Could my old card be reactivated so I could use it? No it couldn’t. Was there any way I could get money moved over into my debit account so I could do the things I needed to do? No. There wasn’t. They could issue me a new card which would arrive in seven to ten business days.

 

Fuck you, Bank of America. I’m so sick of you guys fucking up my financial life. I’m lucky that I’m resourceful and that I have people who are understanding in my life otherwise I would have been screwed. I got the card so I could have it to use when I needed it, not for you to take it away and make my life harder.

 

Just another reason I want so desperately to pay off the fucking credit card so I can move to a different bank. Nothing but stress and shit service.

 

Anyway. Last night was actually pretty cool, which sort of twists around another story, so I guess I’ll just start with work since that’s really where it begins and why last night happened in the first place.

 

I’m working 5pm to 1am this month. I thought it was for both classes, which would have been fine; at least it’s a consistent schedule. Character Rigging ended up only being one lab though, so part of my days are only 5pm to 9pm. Yay for admin hours which get to be used for homework time.

 

I don’t have to set my alarm to wake up. I get most of the morning to myself, though now that Hannah is here I’m questioning how true that comment is. Overall it’s been alright even if it is sort of crazy hours.

 

Down side. I can’t use the car. At all. I don’t have time to pick Zane up from work and get to the school on time for labs. He doesn’t get home early enough for me to wait for the car. That means I can’t do any errands during the week because he has the car the whole day. Any “doing” that I need to do has wait until I get home from work.

 

Because of that I did laundry at 1 in the morning last night, along with shopping at Walmart because we needed a new water filter and cat litter. And part of me is resentful that I had to go out to the store because what was Zane doing for the eight hours I was at work that he couldn’t go pick it up?

 

Rational side of things. It’s my week to do groceries and I was going out to do laundry anyway so what does it matter? At least it kept me from sitting and being bored for a few hours. If it was such a big deal I could have asked him to do it. It would have been awesome if he was considerate or “adult” enough to realize it needed to be done and to have taken the initiative on his own to do it rather than having me ask like a parent.

 

“Now, honey. Please clean your room. You know how icky it gets when you leave it messy.”

 

If I wanted a kid I would get pregnant. Or try, since I’m polycystic and most likely can’t. Blrag. Premise still stands. I don’t want to micro manage someone since I have a hard enough time keeping up with my own shit. A companion should make life easier not harder.

 

And that’s another hawt mess, which I haven’t forgotten about the store story, but tangents…

 

Since I’m back to biking everywhere and upping how often I go to the gym since I’m not deathly ill, it’s warming up, and in general I’m feeling better in a few areas of my life, my sex drive is back up, and guess what’s not getting fulfilled. Yeah. The sex part. Not really much else to say about that other than I’m still frustrated and because of how my schedule and Zane’s schedule line up I only see him as he’s leaving for work in the morning or going to sleep at night. Like not even twenty minutes of face time. So the whole lack of sex thing most likely won’t get fixed anytime in the near future, not that it would have gotten fixed anyway because he’s allergic to sex. Not really, but I’m being self-deprecating at the moment and it’s making some sick, twisted part of my brain happy to be mean and think shit like that.

 

I’m improving myself. Apparently that means I don’t deserve sex anymore. This is the complete opposite result of what I was expecting.

 

There are other things going on. I don’t think I’m cool with the marriage idea anymore. Would it be nice to have Zane travel with me? Sort of. I don’t think it’s worth the stress or fighting. I think what I truly want is to live alone again. I think what I really crave is my own space.  I’m tired of coming home like I have the past three nights and the 10 minutes of time I get to see him before he goes to bed is some  confrontational spat where “I’m upset with him so he’s going to leave me alone.”

 

I’m not upset. I’m not mad. I just got done biking 3.5 miles and I feel like crap because I know you won’t hug me because you think sweat is gross, which means I’m gross. I’m unworthy. That’s what’s going through my brain. And I’ve told you that. All I want is to feel like everything I do means something, earns me something.  But it doesn’t. It feels like a vast pit of pointless nothingness. I’m sweaty and gross so you can have the car to get to and from work. It’s my car. I’m the one paying 300 a month for something I don’t even get to use except for joy rides on the weekends, maybe. It depends on if I have work, or if you want to do something, or if it’s raining and the weather is shitty, or if there are other import life things going on like moving people in / out.

 

Can’t I at least get a hug and a kiss and a “how was your day?” to make it seem like you actually care about my life rather than absently talking about work while you play on your phone and show that I’m not worth your attention.

 

Maybe I’m way more angsty over all of this than I realized. I’m still hurt. I still ache in my chest because for almost four days now I haven’t had a hug. I’ve slept on the couch because it doesn’t feel right to crawl into bed next to Zane when he’s asleep and things feel not ok between us.

 

I’ve gone to the  apartment office and done all of the tasks he’s asked me to do since he can’t make it there to do the things himself. I’ve cooked all of the meals this week. I did the laundry. I’ve taken care of my homework and stayed on top of my new class, Digital Publishing this month, fun stuff.

 

I’m tired of doing. I’m tired of hurting and feeling like it’s never enough to get the things that I want out of a relationship. So yeah, I’ll most likely be going into the military alone, to be alone. To move forward with what I want. And maybe this is all just angry, hurt writing and things will get better and I just need to talk to him and not enough time has passed for changes to occur, but I don’t think that’s what it is.

 

I think this is a pattern that has been there since I moved in. Maybe before I moved in.  While parts of the apartment and living situation are better, there are some things that haven’t changed. The reality I had built up and envisioned inside of my head isn’t the reality I live in, and that disconnect, that difference, is where my pain stems from. I know it’s because of me. I know in a way it’s not fair.

 

Right now, typing on my blank pages, writing my feelings, my thoughts, I don’t care that it’s not fair. I don’t care about letting go and not wanting and being enlightened and taking the higher path. Right now I want to be angry and hurt because until I acknowledge that I feel that way it’s just going to fester and continue to poison me. I feel like I’ve started slipping back into old habits where I put another person before my own happiness and that’s why I feel the way I do.

 

I shouldn’t need Zane to make me happy. I shouldn’t expect him to do things because he cares about me, and then get upset when it doesn’t happen. I’m happier when I take care of things myself because I feel independent, resourceful, and competent. I don’t owe anyone anything when I do it myself. I’m not let down by myself when I take the initiative rather than waiting or asking. I’m an adult. I can do things myself. Including fixing my life, and just because I fix it doesn’t mean other people have the right to ride along for free. Which that’s pretty harsh, even in my head. But that’s what it feels like.

 

I’m still owed two thousand dollars for all of the expenses I covered with Zane was unemployed. I’m still paying crazy interest on the credit card while he saves money to go to California to visit Nik who he’ll most likely have sex with because that’s the type  of relationship they have. I’m not a priority. I knew that from the beginning. I don’t know why it’s taken almost a year for it to finally sink in. I don’t even know if it really has. Maybe it’s starting to and that’s what all of this is. Maybe I needed to be pushed to a certain point where the INFJ “zero fucks given” shadow traits come out and I just stop caring and move forward with or without the other person.

 

I’m going in a “this way” direction, and I’m not going to compromise on it. I’m not going to let depression eat away and steal another summer from me. I’m not going to make plans around another person. I’m going to do what I need to do to get to where I want to be because it’s my life and I’m tired of living it for other people.

 

So back to the story of the shopping trip last night… There are moments where I am shown that the world is still an ok place and that good people, kind people, compassionate people, still exist and that my black and jaded view of the world isn’t the proper view. It’s a focused view, one singling out the negative, blinding me to the positive things around me.

 

After putting the clothes into the wash I went to Walmart for the water filter and the cat litter. As I walked to the aisle with the filters I noticed that several of them were roped off with ‘caution’ tape. I kept walking to see what was going on. Maybe I would be able to still get to the filter I needed. No luck though. They were waxing the floor. Lame… maybe if I go get the litter first and then come back they’ll be done and I can get the filter.

 

So that’s what I did. Picked up a box of cat litter and walked back, but no luck. The aisle I needed was still roped off. I looked around, saw an older woman stocking some shelves and walked up to her asking, “Is it possible to get a water filter? The aisle I need to get to is roped off.”

 

She wasn’t all that helpful, saying nope, no one can go down there, especially if the floor is wet. I was bummed and started to walk away when she said to follow her. So I did. We walked down to the aisle, and, of course, saw the floors were wet.

 

“Nope. Can’t do down there,” was her frank, pretty callous and uncaring reply.

 

There was a man with a mop on a different aisle. He saw us and asked if everything was ok.

 

“I was hoping to get a water filter.” I said.

 

“Which one?” he asked as he waked to the shelves where they were lined up.

 

“A Zero Water filter. The black box. One shelf up.” I said as his hands moved over the boxes looking for the one I could clearly see, so close, yet so far away and out of my reach.

 

He found the box, picked it up, and walked over to me, passing it into my own hands which held the box as if it were the most precious thing I had ever been given.

 

“Oh my gosh. Thank you so incredibly much. You have no idea. You just made my entire night.” I said with the biggest smile. He seemed so shocked at my gratitude, a genuine smile spreading across his own face. The woman scoffed at my reaction, saying something more about how no one was supposed to walk on the floor and how it was better him than her as she walked away, back to be a grouch as she stalked her shelves.

 

That one action, as simple and mundane and totally none lifesaving as it was, seriously was the kindest thing anyone could have done for me. He didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to stop his work to make my life easier. He could have been uncaring, unfeeling like the woman. Instead he took a moment out of his life to do something for me, and even thinking about it makes me want to cry a little in a weird “I’m not sad I’m just feeling super intense feelings right now” sort of way that most people don’t understand because only about 1% of the total population thinks the way I do.

 

I didn’t have to worry about waking up early before Zane left for work to run back to the store for the filter. I didn’t have to wait until the following night to try to go back out again. I was able to scratch something off of my to-do list because one person was kind to me.

 

All of the warm feels.

 

Along the same lines… I got a card in the mail from one of my blogging buddies. I love you so much Mama Spike! Thank you for my card! I sent you an email but I’m not sure if that is a primary email address for you or not, so I’m not sure if you received it. I wanted you to know that your card came through fine and that it totally made my morning when I read it. Again, thank you so incredibly much. You’re amazing!

 

I feel a bit better for writing. I guess it was one of those things that needed to happen even though I didn’t want to do it in the beginning. Lots of other things have happened. Different events that I’m sure were important at the time but I don’t feel like writing about them now, or remembering them in clearer detail. I feel written out and I’m pretty sure I covered the important stuff. I covered my feelings and the events that have been affecting me the most.

 

I’m pretty content with that at the moment.