Daily Post 118: Finding Myself

I’m at work early because I’m supposed to do grading but I have the urge to write so I’m going to do that first.

It’s nice to feel like this. To have the urge to actually type things out and to process through things. It’s nice to not feel a pain inside my chest at the thought of figuring things out. I think a lot of that has to do with my therapy session yesterday. I think a lot of it has to do with recent events and how I’m starting to find things to look forward to. It’s not just a day to day existence anymore.

I may not have life goals yet. I haven’t gotten that far in my recovery, but I find myself genuinely smiling at the thought of the future. Things seem to be going well, and even though mom isn’t here to enjoy the forward progress with me, I know that she would be happy for me. She would smile with me and be glad.

Tomorrow I’m supposed to be signed off the lease for the apartment. That will be the last massive, ginormous step I have to take as far as the personal side of my life goes. It’s the last step that really requires other people. Past that it will be making sure Zane’s cool with me switching the phone plan over into his name so I can ditch Verizon for MetroPCS again.

I’m nervous about it. I don’t think he’s going to be a jerk tomorrow. I think he’s going to be overly sweet and try to get me to hang out. He’s going to try for the “friends” thing, and while I normally do try to maintain a friendship with my exs, this is one instance where I would rather move on. I’m not going to want to hang out. I’m not going to want to chitchat and let him know what’s been going on in my life. I didn’t invite him to my super awesome laser tag going away party for a reason. I want to finalize what I need to and be done with it.

I booked a room at an extended stay for the next 28 days. I check in at 3pm today. There’s a mini kitchen and a full sized fridge. I haven’t been there but the pictures look nice. There’s a bed. I seriously cannot put into words how much I am looking forward to having a bed to sleep on. I’m hoping the window lets in a nice amount of light. I’m thinking about taking my computer out of storage and setting it up in the room, space permitting. I’ve already chatted with a few friends. They’re going to let me borrow some of their extra kitchen stuff so I don’t have to go out and buy much of anything. That will be nice. I plan to return it before I leave for Vegas.

I want to make stuffed tomatoes for dinner tomorrow. With everything going on today I doubt I’ll be up for cooking or doing much by the time I’m actually able to spend any amount of time at the room.

I want to go to the gym after checking in. I need to run by Best Buy first though. The other day I bought a pair of Bluetooth headphones. With all of the kickboxing things I’ve been doing, having wired headphones gets annoying. The wire gets flung into my face or fucks with the motion of my punches. It’s distracting and throws off my groove. So I thought I would give Bluetooth a try.

The ones I have are alright… They stay on fine… But they feel sort of weird, and they’re not noise canceling so the sound is different. More airy. And that in itself is distracting. My brain keeps focusing on how it “doesn’t sound right,” even though it’s fine.

$100 is a lot to spend to only be “aright” with something. I want to see if any of the other styles / brands work better for me. So yeah, if I get to the gym today Best Buy will most likely happen first.

I need to go grocery shopping since I don’t have any coffee creamer. I used the last of it this morning. I’m looking forward to having my morning routine back. Cooking eggs and sitting with my coffee at the table pondering over my day and how to map things out so I’m most efficient. It’s going to be the weekend, so I’m thinking I’ll go to the storage unit and pull out things like my water filter, the computer, maybe go through my clothes again and pull out a few of my nicer tops since V and I want to meet again.

I think my date, because that’s what I’m going to call it, went really well the other night. I enjoyed myself. I laughed. I cried. I felt nervous. I felt acceptance. I was asked about the last time I had sex and was able to tell someone that story and begin letting go of those emotions.

I explained how I had felt really alone one of the mornings I had to take Zane to work. How we had cuddled in bed for a little bit. Things turned sexual and it was fine until the end.

I don’t know what it’s like for other people, but sometimes, when it’s over, I feel empty. Like… my partner has taken something from me, some energy, but hasn’t replaced it with anything else. Nothing has been given back. There wasn’t an exchange or a connection. It leaves me feeling cold, and… well… empty. Something is missing. I don’t feel connected and blissful, and warm, even if I am able to orgasm. There’s something about the interaction that is unfulfilling on an extremely deep and emotional level and it usually leaves me feeling alienated and alone.

That’s what it was like after Zane and I had sex the last time. The loneliness I had already been feeling intensified and it took a lot to hold it together. He knew that I wasn’t ok and asked what was wrong. I answered saying that it had felt good, but that I didn’t feel connected to him, I felt used, and I didn’t understand why and that I was sorry for feeling the way I did. Maybe it was just my grief messing up the experiences.

His reply was that he had been horny and “basically just needed a cumrag.” He said he knew I had wanted attention and that he took advantage of that.

I had been willing to try for friendship even with all of the shit that went down while mom was in the hospital and after her death. I was willing to let go of the betrayal of having another girl in what was supposed to be “our” bed, and accepting the fact that the sheets most likely weren’t washed when we tried cuddling the Saturday night that I got back to Orlando.

I was willing to let go of a lot of things because he “wanted to be friends”.

My friends don’t treat me like that. That wasn’t friendship. Taking advantage of my need for human interaction and closeness isn’t loving or caring. It’s manipulative. It’s fucked up, and I’m done with it. Point blank, end of story, I’m done.

I got to tell V about that experience and how it had made me feel. He didn’t say much about it. He let me cry. He hugged me while I did. He didn’t try to make it better because it’s not like anyone can go back and undo the past.

I’m still moving to Vegas. I’m still going to focus on myself. None of my plans have changed, but I’m grateful to V for making me feel like a human. For making me feel like I’m worth respect.

So there’s that. It was good to work through those emotions. It makes me feel like Zane doesn’t have power over me. The only way he can make me feel bad is if I let him. He isn’t going to change and I’m tired of being hurt. So it’s done. And as soon as the lease is taken care of I know I’ll feel that much freer from him, with the final cut being the phone plan.

Therapy was a lot of about my younger brother. He’s trying to come to Full Sail. Since I’m an alumnus and a staff member (for the moment at least) I can nominate him for a scholarship worth up to $40k. I’m looking into that. Currently waiting on an email from his admissions representative so we can see what needs to happen since Jon is currently over in Germany.

I feel stronger today than I have in a while. Still sort of tired and low energy. But strong. Stable. Solid.

In therapy the conversation turned to how I am doing so much better than when I first started my sessions. I said that it feels like I’m finding myself again, and for some reason that statement hurt and I started crying. Not sobbing or anything, but there were tears running down my face and I didn’t know why. The statement hurt, but finding myself should be a good thing, right? So why was I crying?

I said that moving forward moves me further away from mom’s physical form. To me, the more “ok” I am, the further away from the moment of her death I become. The knee-jerk jump in my thoughts is, the further away I am from that moment, the further away I am from her.

I know that’s not true. The further away from that moment I become, the closer to her spiritual presence I become. Our relationship isn’t over, it’s just different. But there is some part of me, some section of my brain that cries out in anguish whenever I think about moving forward. I think about every new accomplishment I want to achieve. Belt testing for taekwondo. Becoming a CNA. Running another Warrior Dash.

I think of all of these things and what it would be like to accomplish them and part of me screams in pain because those thoughts are almost instantly followed with the thought of “Mom won’t be there.”

That thought feels like having something punched through my chest. It’s not a cut. It’s not a sharp pain. It’s a gaping hole of agony and normally the only thing I can do is vocalize that pain. I scream as loud as I can in my car. I cry. I grip the steering wheel so hard my hands hurt because there’s nothing for me to tear apart or punch or thrash. I scream over and over and over until the pain is finally bearable and my voice is so raw I can’t talk. I scream until it’s finally something I can simply cry over, and then I cry and whimper and sound like a beaten animal because that’s what I feel like. And then… eventually… I’m quiet and exhausted and spent and there’s a stillness inside me. A peace. An acceptance. And normally I go home and sleep. I have nothing left in me to give to anything else after those moments.

My mom won’t be there, physically, for any of the achievements in my life. She won’t be there to wrap her arms around me. She won’t be there to do the “I told you so” dance when I do fantastic. She won’t be there to wink at me, or smile, or for her eyes to dance and glitter with happiness for me.

Mom will never physically be here ever again.

But she’s not gone and I have so many instances to prove that. The one that comes to mind the strongest is the night I slept curled around her urn. I know she was there. I know she was holding me, and even now I can feel her presence behind me like a slight weight on my shoulders.

I know that my knee jerk thought of “Mom isn’t here,” isn’t the thought I truly believe. It’s a reactive thought. And for me, it’s an unhealthy thought.

So yeah… that’s where I’m at today. I’m finding myself again. In the landscape of my mind I’ve started for find pieces of myself and I’ve started to put them back where they belong. I’m looking at things and questioning if I want to keep them or not. Change them, maybe?

What do I want?

I still don’t know, but I’m figuring it out and that gives me some sort of resolve I guess. I’ve started doing it, so I know it can be done. It makes me feel like it’s just a matter of time before I’m on my feet again, and knowing that I’m making progress, that my journey isn’t over, makes me feel secure in myself.

I’ll make it through this and I’m finally starting to believe those words.

Musing Moments 091: The Lost Writing

I wrote this back while I was in Las Vegas, shortly after mom had died. Shortly after a phone conversation with Zane. This writing ended up getting neglected on my desktop as events unfolded. It was never forgotten but the writing was interrupted and by the time I got back to it the moment had past and so it was no longer appropriate to write more. I wasn’t in “that moment” any longer, and with the need to survive and manage everything with mom being the only thoughts most of the time, posting this writing never hit very high on the to-do list.

I want to post it though. I post all of my writings, and that includes the angry ramblings of a time past but not forgotten.

I am not broken. This past month proves that. To my self. To the world. To everyone who knows anything about what I have been through. I am strong, and while I may be injured and recovering I will never be broken.

I’m glad I have this writing to look back on. I’m glad I remember the feelings of lostness and fear and confusion. I’m glad I can remember this time because it shows how far I have come and how much more solid I am even if I still doubt it sometimes.

I am not broken.

I refuse to allow myself to believe that I am. Broken to me implies that I cannot be fixed, or that I’ve lost, given up. It means that something else was better, and I refuse, REFUSE, to allow that to be a truth that I accept about myself.

I am NOT broken.

Injured, yes. I fully admit that I am not ok. That I am deeply hurt, in a way that will never “heal” properly. I will always have this whatever it is with me. This hole, this scar, this ache. It will never go away. It will never magically change and not exist anymore.

I am injured, which means I can recover. Not broken, which implies I’m a lost cause.

Figuring out that statement makes me feel better about taking my year of mourning. That’s what I’m referring to it as. My Year. It helps me feel like it’s not be being selfish or weak or running away from my problems.

I need time to recover. Maybe more than most people but I feel more than most people, which I’m sure “most people” are going to read that and think that I’m arrogant or something, but it’s the truth. I’m extremely sensitive to all emotions. Joy, happiness, anger, guilt, and I guess now grief.

I still don’t understand it, this collection of emotions I have in my chest. There was more anger last night, and since I was on the phone with Zane it got mildly directed at him. He says I need to stop lashing out at people. In my mind I only lash out when I’m retaliating against something that hurts me more.

I am going to be giving him the car. He’s going to take over the loan payments and everything will be switched to his name. This is because we’re going to be able to keep mom’s car and it’s easier for me to use her car than to drive mine cross country.

There’s the added issue of “my car” not feeling like mine if I got it back from Zane in a year. He would have used it to go on dates and whatever else he wanted to do. It wouldn’t smell like me, it wouldn’t feel like me. I wouldn’t want it back so I would have made payments for a year for something that wasn’t mine, that I never got to use. Not really interested in that.

So currently we’re going to look into doing that when I go back to Orlando, which we got mom’s ashs back yesterday, so I leave to go to South Carolina tomorrow…. All of the things… All at once… >.<;

Anyway, Zane called me yesterday and said that when I got into Orlando he wanted to get a written agreement drafted between us saying that I was going to transfer the car to him because through this whole situation he doesn’t trust me to not screw him over.

Pardon me while I sit here not giving a fuck because I have a marble urn full of my mom’s ashes sitting on my kitchen table.

That ended up being an hour long conversation with ups and downs. He’s the one who said I was broken. That I have been for a long time.

Every time he said it I got angry and replied with, “I’m not broken.”

“Ok,” a single word which held so much, “I don’t believe you but I’ll say ok so we don’t fight,” that it only made me angrier.

Broken people don’t make to-do lists and figure shit out, and go talk to lawyers about how to handle the estate and make budgets for the year to see what is possible and what isn’t. Broken people don’t switch over accounts so the apartment can be kept, and make rent arrangements. Broken people don’t research into car loans to see if they can be transferred to another person.

Broken people don’t spend days searching for a new sensei to continue with spiritual growth and healing. Broken people don’t spend days looking for tattoo reference material and additional days going to tattoo parlors looking for the “right” artist. They don’t go to the recruitment office for the military branches and talk about future plans and what needs to happen now, and what types of training / conditioning groups there are.

I’m NOT broken because I’ve done all of those things and more. I’m functioning. I’m not ok. And I know I’m not ok. I haven’t been ok for a while and I told you the whole time that I wasn’t. So don’t make it seem like it’s a shocker or news, because it’s not. But just because I’m not ok doesn’t give you the right to make me seem less than, or that it’s my fault that I’m the way I am.

I’m injured because of the events in my life, and I’ve been coping with the relationship side of it for longer than I should have. And now my mom is dead and I have that to contend with as well, not just our dysfunctional relationship.

It makes me realize how much I didn’t know myself. I thought I did, but if I truly did I don’t think I would feel so lost right now, so floaty and ungrounded.

Several people have written me amazing comments. I am strong, I am beautiful, smart, resourceful, independent. They have written adjectives about me, rather than nouns.

Being a teacher or a student or a companion does not define who I am. I was reminded of that fact the other day and it is something I have been chewing over inside of my head.

I may at one point have been those things, but those things are not me. I am still smart even if I’m not a teacher. I am still resourceful even if I am not a student. I am myself even if my life is going to be drastically different, and just because I am going in a different direction does not mean I am running away.

I feel confident in my choices regardless of what other people say about them. One, single person cannot take away my resolve or make me question myself. At least not for very long.

I don’t think of it as selfish. Selfish implies that I do not care about the emotions of those around me or those I affect. But I do. And it makes my choices that much harder when I know I am hurting someone else.

Prompt Page 011: Fated

Prompt by The Learning Network to combat WordPress.

Today’s Topic:
Do you believe things happen for a reason?

Do I believe things happen for a reason?

Yes. I find it interesting that in the article most atheists answered this question similarly, which sort of negates the thought that this is a religious belief. I, myself, do not think the events in my life are laid out by a higher power. I’m not even sure if I really believe in “fate” in the sense that I do not have control over my actions because everything is already predetermined.

I think we choose our own path. We are given choices, branches, forks, and we ultimately decide which one we travel down. It is up to us to be open enough to learn from those experiences, to find meaning in them, whatever that may be.

The abusive relationships I have been in taught me to love myself, to value my own well-being. They taught me what I wanted, or didn’t want, in a partner. Moving away to go to college taught me how to live alone, to be responsible, and the value of a buck. The type of school I went to solidified the concept of “work first, play later”. It also ingrained the “work hard, play hard” mentality, but we’ll gloss over that… >.>;

We can look at events and people as negative, a waste, some sort of stain on the pages of our lives, or we can look for how those events built us up, and why it was important to experience them, even hardships.

I choose to look for what I gained rather than what I lost, which reminds me of a quote.

“Someone I loved once game me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”

~ Mary Oliver

What psychological purpose does this belief serve for humans?

I think it gives us a sense of security, comfort. It’s nice to think that there was a reason for the pain, heartache, and stress. It’s nice to think it had a purpose and it wasn’t just because the Universe is a kid with a magnifying glass and a sick sense of humor.

I would rather think that the trials and tribulations I went through helped to make me a more compassionate, empathetic person. It makes it easier to keep going that way. To keep pushing through the hard times, the dark times. Without a purpose, why keep going? Why struggle? Why strive? If it’s all meaningless then why do anything at all?

I would rather think that the situations in my life lead me ever closer to enlightenment and understanding. It gives me comfort and honesty, I really think that’s all beliefs are meant to do. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, I accept it as a truth in my world and it works for me. Everyone else can believe what they want because that’s what works for them.

Do I agree that there can be danger in believing everything happens for a reason?

Yes. I think some people can use that as an excuse to not better themselves or to leave things as they are rather than trying to change a situation. Just because something is happening doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t do something about it, or blame others for it. It’s not ok to think, “well obviously they deserve that,” or, “they’re supposed to learn a lesson from this,” and to wash your hands of helping people when they legitimately need help. I don’t believe people deserve to be homeless, or hungry, or raped, or beaten.

I don’t think it’s ok to turn a blind eye to hate and suffering. Things do happen for a reason. Maybe that reason is for other people to step up and be a compassionate human. To care more for others and to show that kindness through action and effort.

Which sort of leads into this last question.

Do I agree that the events of human life unfold in a fair and just manner only when individuals and society work hard to make this happen rather than karma punishing and rewarding individuals?

I do believe in karma. I also believe that karma works through people. My random act of kindness may be karma rewarding the other person for something they themselves have done for someone else.

I do not take it upon myself to rain down judgment and punishment on people. When I am wronged I try my best to move on with my life. I try my best to be happy and to think of all of the others things I have going for me.

If a person has wronged me the only way they can continue to affect me is if I let them. I do not have control over their actions, but I have control over mine. I have control over my thoughts and emotions. I can distance myself from the situation or person. I can try to remove as much of the negatively from my life as possible.

I don’t feel like it is my place to use their actions as an excuse to be a raging bitch even though sometimes that would be really awesome. I try my best to let it go and let life figure itself out. I can either stop and stand there and fight a battle of wills which ultimately will make me feel worse even if I “win”, or I can let go and keep moving forward to the things I want, leaving the stress and whatnot behind me where it belongs.

Through all of the events I have experienced in my life so far, that is the path I choose to travel down more often than not now, and that’s one of the lessons I have learned. My peace of mind is more important that getting back at someone who was an ass-hat to me.

Daily Post 0152: New Direction

Ok. So Friday sucked. Mostly because the first thing that happened when I got home Thursday evening is Zane and I talked about finances. He hasn’t been able to land a new job yet, and he still hasn’t been called in to work at the lounge. They haven’t outright fired him, which I think is pretty lame, but they’re not giving him hours either.

So… Even though I said I wouldn’t do it, I’m paying his share of rent. He said that Trevor was fine with me not paying my share as long as the storage unit was covered. Which would be fine except that not only do I have to cover roughly $400 (two hundred more than my own rent, so it’s already doubled), but I have to cover the unit completely on my own as well. Another $140.

My rent is over double what I had had agreed to when I moved in. I can’t pay down my credit card the way I want. I can’t look into getting a personal trainer. I can’t in good conscious start getting my tattoos…

Pardon me while I go hate life because things aren’t going the way I want them to, how I was told they would go. This wasn’t what I signed up for. I don’t think it’s fair. And yes. I’m going to spend the night and following day being angry about it because it feels like this always, ALWAYS, happens.

So that was Friday.

My break down at the bank was due to having to withdrawal $20 for the laundry card. Another expense that I am having to cover on my own. Another responsibility on top of all of the others. Another weight. More money that I, solely, am bleeding out and not being able to put towards the things that I want.

I know on a logical level that this situation is different from the ones I have been in before. Zane is actively looking for a new job. He helps with chores around the house. We have open communication. He understands and empathizes where I’m coming from and doesn’t fault me for my emotions.

There’s all these things that make it different.

On an emotional level I don’t feel a difference. It feels the same way it has in my past relationships. And that’s not a good feeling. I’m left wondering why it’s so hard for people to take care of themselves. Why is it that I seem to magically be able to hold a job that not only supports me, but them as well? Why can’t it be equal and fair? Why does that seem like so much to ask for?

Why does it seem to be a trade off? I can either have my paycheck be my own, and be completely miserable because I’m alone, or I can have a significant other where it feels like all of my goals and financial priorities get screwed.

We talked about all of that when I got home Friday. It wasn’t a fun conversation, but I felt better for it afterwards, and Zane was fantastic and made comfort food for dinner and let me play my game uninterrupted. It was pretty much me ignoring the world and slowly aligning myself with reality.

Left Brain: Ok, Jen. You’re in this situation, again. Accept it and move forward.

Right Brain: Ok… Let me slaughter this monster first. And then kill that group of bandits. And this pack of rabid dogs… And anything else that moves…

Who said video games aren’t therapeutic?

Saturday I had work. I was recovering from Friday’s emotional discord, which, I’m getting sort of tired of having discord. Because I was recovering I didn’t want to be around people, so I really didn’t want to be at school. I survived, though. It wasn’t a bad day, just a lame day.

Zane made his sriracha chicken for dinner and I made veggies to go with it. Yay kitchen bonding time. Other than that the day was uneventful.

Oh. I went running. Pretty decent, but nothing amazing. No record setting or anything. Just a normal run, which is always better than no run.

Sunday was another low day. I cross-stitched, did laundry, did dishes, in the evening Zane and I meal planned so I have my grocery list for today.

We went to Del Taco for lunch since I had said I wanted us to do something together. We came home and started watching a new anime. I can’t remember the name of it, but we’re only two episodes in and I’m really liking it. It’s supposed to be on the same level as Attack on Titan as for as the feelz go.

Last night sort of sucked. Zane wasn’t able to sleep, so he was up messing around on his laptop for a while, which kept me awake until about 3:30 at which point I went out to the living room and slept on the couch. I came back into the room around 7am and slept until 10ish.

I had wanted to wake up at 8am to go to the gym, but that wasn’t happening with how little sleep I got. Arg. I haven’t figured out how to restructure my day to get the gym in. I was going to go to a spin class, so I could go to the class at 5:30 instead. I haven’t decided yet, but I will shortly.

On a totally unrelated note, something that I have decided to do as of yesterday morning is join the Army. I spent most of yesterday researching.

I’m not sure if I’ve talked about it on this blog before. I know I have in the past. I know this is the third time where I’ve kicked the idea around. Before it was more, “I’ll lose the weight and see if I still want to join.”

Now it’s a solid goal. I’m going to join.

I don’t think this has anything to do with Zane, though on a subconscious level it may be. Maybe this is my giving Florida and my job a giant middle finger because I’m tired of feeling trapped here.

I made a list in my head and this is what I came up with:

Help with student loans
Free travel
Lines up with health goals
Help with remaining degrees (psychology / sociology)
Gain additional trade skills
Join as an officer due to degrees
Pads resume

It really has nothing to do with pride for my country, which I know diminishes my actions in some people’s eyes. My reasons not virtuous and selfless. They’re not noble.

No. They’re not noble. They’re realistic. I want to get to certain places in my life, the military can help me get there. I understand how the military works since I was raised in a military family, and I know I do well in structured environments. It would be a mutually beneficial relationship, which would only last a handful of years. I’m not expecting to stay there for the rest of my life.

I wouldn’t be able to get my tattoos for a while longer, but I haven’t started them yet. It’s not like with how things are going right now that I would be able to get them in the while anyway, and maybe that’s just me being jaded.

Either way, I’ve gone 15 years without them. I think I could survive another 4 to 6.

I’m tired of not having something that I’m moving towards. I’m tired of waiting for things to change. I’m tired of sitting and doing nothing. Nothing except complaining.

This gives me a direction. This gives me phases to work on. I’ve already started solidifying the road I will be traveling down to get to my goal. All it is now is time and dedication.

I’ve meal planed for the week, though I haven’t gone shopping yet, which sort of sucks. It means I’m a little behind on where I want to be on a Monday morning, but I’ve had a good breakfast, the kitchen is cleaned and the dishes put away. I got to spend an hour or so talking to my younger brother. So far it has been a decent day.

There are still areas that I need to address, but this is that path I am going to be going down because it’s the path I want. It’s a stepping stone that I think will make me better. And it’s a direction that I go do on my own, instead of waiting for other people to fix my problems for me.

Daily Post 0124: The Start of the Comeback?

I wrote this last night, but am just now getting around to posting.

Saturday’s End

Saturday I went running, and actually had a pretty good go at it. I stretched really well afterwards so I wasn’t super sore even though I had one of my better times. I upped my run intervals so I’m doing 1:30s at a 10 minute mile pace. Sometimes faster. So I feel like I’m doing well.

After working out I came home to find people already showing up for John’s party. I hung out for a little bit, but the music was already so loud that you couldn’t really hear the conversation going on. After having a handful of chips I showered and ninjaed my way out of the apartment with my backpack and headed to school.

I worked on homework and my Pathfinder character before having to pick Zane up from work. The party was over when we got home, which was cool. There were tons of bottles left around, chip dip on the coffee table, cake and wrappers on the kitchen table… not cool…

Zane and I actually stayed up pretty late / early, him finishing off the dungeon for the game, and me trying to finish off my character. We didn’t get to sleep until around 7am.

During that time I cleaned up a little bit, but I finished most of the cleaning Sunday after I woke up.

Sunday’s Game

Sunday was a nice relaxing day for the most part. I didn’t do the gym, school, or work. I had my coffee and after finishing up cleaning the living room and kitchen I sat at my computer and polished off my character notes so I could be ready for the game.

At 5:30 Zane and I went to the hookah lounge where we were going to meet up with Dan and Rachel. Trevor met us at the lounge later, and after we all devoured tacos from Toxic Hell it was time for some awesome DnD action.

My character got introduced into the party, and for right now we have a tentative truce. I’ll help them assassinate the guy they’re after (essentially getting paid double since I was already contracted to kill this guy) for ¼ of the loot they get from the dungeon.

So far they have two items I want, but Rachel’s character is being lame and not dividing it up yet. My character wants those boots damnit. And she’s not above killing random people for them… Just sayin’… It would be beneficial for everyone for my character to get her boots… and that Sheath of Bladestealth to go with the other two that she already has…

Anyway, my character didn’t do that awesome combat wise because she’s a stygian slayer, which is basically a rogue that can use a little bit of magic. I can move from shadow to shadow killing people with crazy sneak attack surprise damage and then fade back into the darkness. I’m half-fiend so I have pretty awesome stats at the moment and dark vision which means I can see in the dark.

Essentially, I am your worst nightmare wielding crazy daggers that I can throw at your face and magically have return to my hands. Muahahaha.

The only thing about sneak attack surprise damage… you can’t really be sneaky when you have a giant tree thing stomping around in your party, or a living suit of armor with a singing sword that doesn’t stop singing…

My party members are so anti-stealth. /sad face

So I’m not really getting any of the bonuses that I’ve built my character around. At least not yet. So that was mildly frustrating. The encounters that we had I held my own in, but Rachel’s character was hitting things for like… 15 damage, while I was stabbing stuff with my daggers for roughly 8 at most. Sad day.

There was one point where I got a natural 20 roll on one of my attacks. That was epic. My character threw her dagger, nailing one of the blighted plant-zombie gnomes we were fighting in the eye, instantly killing my corrupt foe in a gory spray of greenish-redish ichor. That was pretty awesome. Insta-kill like a bad-ass. /flex

At the end of the game I ended up getting a critical miss though… That sucked hard core. I rolled a natural 1. When I had to roll to confirm my failure I got a 2…

Zane does something special with his games were if you confirm a critical miss you have to roll another dice. The number you get corresponds with a number on a chart. This chart is used to figure out what bad stuff happens to your character for the critical miss…

So my character ended up getting hit by celestial lighting… while we’re in the middle of a giant tree dungeon… underground… Yeah… Don’t question magic. It will just make your brain hurt.

And if getting hit with lightening wasn’t bad enough, the lighting burnt everything that I had on me that wasn’t magical…

I lost my backpack, my journal, my scrivener’s kit.., really those were the only things I had aside from a poncho and some trail rations. Most of my money went into my weapons and the few magical items I was wearing. But I bought the journal specifically because writing is important to me, and because I made my character, it’s important to my character.

And on the first game it is burnt to ashes. I was totally going to go out and get a sketch book in real life to use to represent the journal of my character. I had planned to draw out the dungeon as we explored and sketch the monsters we ran into, or the look. I was going to scribble notes in it and stuff…

But my character doesn’t have a journal anymore because fuck the gods. That’s actually what is written as the deity she follows, so in the scheme of things getting hit with the lightening fits her story really well, but still…. So not fair.

It was frustrating too because I spent a lot of time figuring out what items would be important to my character and what she would want to spend her money on. All of that time was basically thrown out the door because of a crap roll.

Frustrating >.< Arg, but still fun and worth it.

I’m looking forward to seeing how the game progresses. I’m still getting a feel for her, but I like the play style, and I like being part of the party rather than just sitting and watching the game be played.

Zane ended up staying at the lounge for a bit after the game with Trevor, which let me drive home to try to sleep. I had work at 5am, so at most I was looking at 4ish hours of sleep. Which I didn’t even get that much. No regrets.

Monday Madness

I say there were no regrets, but this morning was rough. Like, I pretty much broke down because I was so tired and angry.

I woke up thinking about the homework I still had to do, and how Zane and I had to go pick up the sprocket for his bike, and how dinner needed to get cooked, and then there was trying to figure out a time I wouldn’t be exhausted so I could go to the gym, and the dojo, and, and, and, and…

And it felt like I was a failure and my day was going to suck, and I would have to give up the gym and dojo. And I wouldn’t be able to have breakfast because I didn’t have time to cook it.

I know all of it had to do with being insanely exhausted. Not just tired. Like, even I knew I was pushing myself past acceptable limits, it was that bad.

I honestly don’t know how I made it to school, how I was able to function as if nothing were wrong, and how I was able to make it back home without falling asleep at any point in-between, all without coffee. Seriously, my mind is blown I was able to do anything at all.

Zane tried talking with me this morning, which was a bad move on his part. I ended up getting angry because he said he wanted me to come home and go back sleep after work. So I had to add that to the overwhelming list of things I already had to figure out how to make happen in the finite hours of my day.

That was the main reason I didn’t get to have my coffee. I was holding it in my hands about to drink it when he suggested I come home to sleep. I asked what about the gym, and he said to not worry about it. To skip the gym for today. And I just sort of snapped.

I was angry because I wanted to do the gym. More than anything I wanted the gym.

I want to keep losing weight and getting healthier. Everyone wants that for me. I want to make the new gym feel like mine, and the only way to do that is to go.

Everyone wants me to get enough sleep. Everyone wants me to do my homework. They want me to put myself first and take care of me because I always take care of others. But then they suggest all these other things to do, or want me to do, or other obligations I end up getting or giving myself, so I have less time for the things I consider important and have to dash around working miracles with space and time to get everything in my day done.

So to be in the middle of trying to figure out my miracle working for the coming day, in the middle of trying to eek out my five minutes of coffee time to brace for the onslaught I had given myself, basically hearing, “Oh, by the way, give up the gym,” made me crack.

Fuck life. Fuck everything and the horse it rode in on, and the one that sired it. And anything else I can curse at 5am that is curse worthy.

My all consuming thought was I was tired. Physically, mentally, and spiritually. I was tired of giving things up. I was furious. I was crying silent tears of rage I was so mad and tired.

How could he ask me to give up the one thing I wanted out of my whole day of total BS?

I knew it wasn’t specifically him I was mad at. It was the thought of giving up the gym. And I knew all of it was me overreacting because I was tired. I was just angry and the only way I could keep from flipping out was for the anger to turn into tears as I got dressed leaving the coffee untouched on the counter. I needed to get to my car. I needed to be alone.

I don’t think this really counts as our first argument because we really didn’t argue, and because I told him all of it was stemming from being so tired, and that I wasn’t sorry for staying up so late. I wasn’t sorry for the game or the time we spent together afterwards. Sunday night was amazing.

I made my choices, and Monday morning was my consequence. I knew what I was getting myself into, but I wasn’t prepared for it, and starting it with “Don’t go to the gym” was not ok in my sleep-deprived brain.

We still said our goodbyes before I left for work, which made me feel better, but that didn’t keep me from crying in frustration on my drive to work. Crying let me be able to handle work. I made it through lab, and actually did come home and go straight to sleep next to Zane.

I woke up next to him. He was getting out of bed because he was ready to start his day, but he told me to sleep more. That I had to sleep for at least another hour before he would let me get out of bed.

I was totally ok with that. And I actually did sleep for another hour and fifteen minutes.

When I came out of the room he walked up to me and gave me a hug asking if I had been timing the hour. I was puzzled at first and said no, why? When he told me how much time had passed I smiled and admitted that I hadn’t set an alarm or anything, though that did sound like something I would do.

I ended up reheating my coffee, and basically restarted my morning.

I had messages on Facebook that needed replies. I had amazing comments on my previous post. I had blogs to catch up on. Zane and I planned out picking up his bike part and getting groceries. We figured out dinner for the night and the next night.

Zane wanted to do laundry so he went and put money on the laundry card. I ended up going to the gym and ran / stretched again. When I got home I did some push-ups and a plank.

I am going to slowly add core work into my run days.

After I showered we went out and did our chores. When we got back I prepped a side dish of broccoli and carrots to go with the chicken and rice. Zane cooked while I folded cloths. We ate dinner and watched Game of Thrones.

And now I’m finishing off my night by writing before going to sleep.

I wake up at 7am tomorrow.

I didn’t do my homework. And once again I’m ok with that. I’m not even going to put time into really writing about it. I made my choice. Today is Monday. The start of a new week. I’m going to get enough sleep tonight. I’m going to start my Tuesday off right.

I’m going to get enough sleep on all my nights so I can function the way I need to, and not have repeats of this morning. It wasn’t fair to me, it wasn’t at all fair to Zane.

So I’m getting back on track with the gym, meal planning, and weekly chores. It feels good to have gone running every other day again. Tomorrow is aikido fundamentals, which I will go to, but I’ll only stay for one class instead of two.

I think I had unrealistic expectations when this month began.

Having been sick so frequently for three months left me unprepared to jump straight into the routine I was doing in February. I have to build my endurance back up, and I need to clean up my diet again so I’m getting the proper nutrition for all of the activity I do.

Right now I’m going aim for one hour a day, with Saturday being my off day. My main focus is going to be running consistently, with adding in minor strength training with things like push ups and stuff. Wall sits of doom… Oh, and stretching. I hate skimping out on stretching because I always pay for it later. So, yeah. That’s my game plan with that.

If I can do an hour every day for the rest of the month I’ll be happy with myself.

This week is still a little messed up as far as meal planning, but it’s better than what it has been, so that’s on the road to recovery. Same with chores.

Even though today started out super, incredibly, un-godly rough, it actually turned into a pretty awesome and restorative day. All of the dishes are clean, my writing is done, and that’s a wrap.

Musing Moments 0038: Most Likely Moving

I wrote this yesterday but never got a chance to post.

So the whole interesting conversation that Zane and I had…

I am sitting in my chair cringing that I’m about to write this because I know so many people are going to roll their eyes in exasperation, or get upset with me, or any number of negative things because of how my past has been; because of where my choices have led me historically. Depression and heartbreak.

Zane and I are talking about having me move in to his apartment.

I’m writing this as a way to figure out the pros verses cons and to try to keep emotion out of it. I’m not writing this for advice, though outside perspective is always welcome.

I was taking Zane to work yesterday when I asked, “Is it bad that I think of your place as home?”

Because I do. I still don’t have a spot in the kitchen at my actually house, even though I’ve lived there for three months. I still don’t feel comfortable around Ashley, either. I don’t feel welcomed at my own place, but I do feel welcomed at Zane’s. And not just by him. Trevor and I chat and get along well. John is a lot like my actual brother and I had a wonderful conversation with him yesterday while cooking the Dong Po.

The apartment is warm and inviting, and I like that. His apartment actually feels like ‘home’ home, not ‘this is the place where I sleep’ home. And I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I didn’t know if that was inappropriate of me, and so I wanted to know what Zane thought about it. Is it bad? Is that me getting ahead of myself? Is that me reading too much into things? If so then maybe we really should step back and re-evaluate our dynamic.

It’s one of the main things that draws me to him, though. I feel like I belong. It feels like I can ask a question like, “Hey is it cool if I think of your place as my place, because I totally do and I don’t think that’s going to change,” and get honest feedback. A logical, thought out response, rather than an emotional blow up.

I’m actually really happy to say that there was no fear when I asked it. I was curious, had a thought, and didn’t even think, “Maybe I shouldn’t ask this.” I just did because I wanted to know his opinion and I knew he would give it to me unbiased and without dancing around.

In my head it doesn’t feel wrong to think of his place as home. And like I said, even if it was ‘wrong’ I don’t think there would be much I could do to change it. Are we still on the same page?

“No. It’s not bad.” He replied to me.

I nodded. We kept driving in silence for a bit as I chewed over that new information in my head for a bit.

I’m not sure what was said. I think he asked if I was thinking about moving in, or if I wanted to. Something along those lines. The main points were, “Move in. Do you want to?”

“Yes…” I answered. Sort of drawn out because I do, but… Long silence as my brain starts thinking and doing its own thing rather than voicing the words in a conversation.

“Yes… But…”

I know it’s really soon to be thinking of stuff like this. I mean really? I don’t even think it’s two months yet. With Jarrett I waited at least six. I didn’t wait all that long with RB, and that was mostly because I didn’t feel welcome at the apartment with Jarrett anymore. Warren sort of moved himself in. He technically lived with one of my classmates, but since we lived in the same apartment complex Warren just stayed at my place the whole time. Corey technically let me crash on his couch when my roommate at the time kicked me out when I told her I had an art test for a game studio. And the only reason I moved in with her was because Warren and I had broken up and, once again, I didn’t feel welcome in my own home. I wasn’t supposed to have stayed living with Corey, but we ended up dating, and the living situation became more permanent.

I never lived with Warren #1 or with Joe.

I moved in with Joshua because the lease ended with Mother Earth. And I left Joshua’s place because his lease ended and he’s moving to California.

Really, looking at it, a lot of my living situations have been reactionary.

And when it comes to living with a significant other it has always ended with the relationship turning toxic, and me feeling like the only way for things to get better is for me to leave. Maybe that’s running away, but it feels like the best and safest option at the time.

So actually wanting to move in with Zane after such a short time should be sending me running for the hills. And there is a part of me that’s nervous and scared, though I don’t think for the right reasons.

So Zane and I talked about it for the rest of the car ride to his work, which wasn’t all that long. Long enough to get the main points out, and for both of us to have things to think over.

We said we would talk about it more later, after some time had passed. So we talked about it this morning before I went to work. We will most likely talk about it more later tonight or tomorrow as well.

So this is what’s going on so far.

We both think it’s soon. Fast. We both agree that I already spend all of my time at the apartment anyway. I spend more in gas driving to and from his place and work to my place, so moving in would save me money in that regard, even though my adorable little Mazda 2 does amazing on gas compared to the Buick I used to have. I would be closer to school, the gym, and I would be in biking distance of the dojo. I would live across the street, literally, from the grocery store. I would be in an environment that I’m comfortable in.

I wouldn’t have my own room. Scarlet would have four other cats in her environment, which may or may not be a good thing. It depends on how they get along. I wouldn’t have to keep her locked up in a tiny room by herself. She would be near me again, rather than the quick trips home that I currently make right now.

I still wouldn’t have much room in the kitchen. I could hang my skillets, the only real things I care about, next to the stove. I could have my glass storage containers, the only other thing I really care about. We can use my mini fridge as the ‘sin fridge’ and keep all of the drinks currently taking up space in the real fridge in there. So there would be room for my foodstuffs.

I would have two other roommates, technically. John and Trevor. But really since Danielle is over all the time, Trevor’s girlfriend, it would be like having three. Since there wouldn’t be much room for my stuff, I would most likely get a storage unit. If I did that I could bring the rest of my belongs from my mom’s place to Florida with me.

I would try to keep my rent to $250. I want to offer $200 and then have cleaning the common areas as a chore or responsibility since I pretty much do that for them anyway…

Guys…

If I can make my rent cheaper than it currently is (which is pretty freaking cheap), plus reducing the amount I’m spending in gas, also reducing the amount I spend on food since meals have been half communal, then I can blast away my debt faster.

The guys can already afford the apartment without me there, so any money I contribute is instant savings for them. If I get a storage unit John and Trevor could put some of there stuff in it too, since they have a ton of art supplies and tools, which I would ask them to help pay for the unit. That would make it cheaper than just me paying for it.

At the moment I’m worried about the not having my own room thing, since that has been the bane of most of my ‘moving in’ situations. But now that I think about it, it really hasn’t been. I had my own room with Warren, and that was still an awful experience. So having my own room isn’t the answer to my relationship woes, nor is it the cause of them I don’t think.

It could be a big factor, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t think it’s the deal breaker I have turned it into. This could also be my right brain rationalizing things so it can get its way…

I’m on to you brain… >.>

Regardless of if that is really what’s going on, here’s some interesting facts about the whole ‘I need my own room’ thing.

I have stayed at my place less than five times in the past almost two months. I go back to take care of Scarlet, but I spend a vast majority of my time at the apartment. Zane and I are co-existing well together. I don’t feel drained around him. Ever. I don’t feel like I’m on this incredible relationship high either, though.

I exhale a deep, heavy sigh when he gives me a hug when I get home from work. I relax and unwind. We eat. We talk. We sit in silence. We share parts of our lives. We cuddle. When we’re tired we go to bed. Sometimes together, sometimes at different times. Sometimes I cook breakfast when I wake up, other times he will cook breakfast for me. I have my coffee, sometimes with him, sometimes alone as I make my to-do list. I go to the gym (when I can). I work on homework.

Being with him hasn’t negatively impacted my energy levels or my finances, aside from driving around more, which hasn’t really impacted me because he gives me gas money.

He helps pay for things, and actually gets annoyed if he starts feeling like I am paying too much or too often. He wants things to be fair. Not to the point where we nickel and dime things. But if I buy something, he will either help pay, or pay for something relatively equal the next time we’re out. He covers all of his own bills, and will have his own transportation soon, which is the only ‘inconvenience’ to my life that I can think of. And since he has only needed rides to work when I’m not at work, it’s really not inconvenient. In fact because I have to wake up in the morning, get dress, and go out, it sort of takes away any excuse I could make to not go to the gym.

I don’t feel like I need down time, or alone time when I’m around Zane because he doesn’t take energy to be around. He’s one of the few people I have met like that. I have emotional silence when I am around him. He’s one of the few people that I can’t feel.

More talk about energies and craziness for a moment. It really is sort of odd to say that I can’t feel Zane, because even though I can’t, I can. I can feel his presence. I know he’s there, but I don’t feel his emotions the same way I feel almost everyone else’s. His emotions aren’t invasive. They don’t overwhelm me to the point where I lose sight of what MY emotions are.

For the most part his emotions are so quiet, subtle, that I don’t have to fight to keep them out. I can stop shielding so hard like I do through the rest of my day. It’s odd. It’s refreshing. It’s interesting to be able to sit on the couch with him and to not ‘feel’ another person. In a way it’s like being alone. It’s awesome. I’m able to hang out and still get my recharge on.

There’s also the fact that I’m not moving in alone with him. It doesn’t feel intimate. It feels like I’m moving into a community, because really, I am. It feels like joining a pack rather than the marriage commitment moving in has come to represent to me. It feels like I wouldn’t be a loner anymore. I would have a pseudo-family again.

So I don’t think sharing a room will be a big deal in this instance. I don’t think this is the same type of situation as all of my previous experiences.

Maybe I’m just being wishful with my thinking. I don’t feel any red flags at the thought of moving in with Zane. I feel a lot of logic right now, and when Zane and I talk that’s what it feels like. It feels like a lot of facts and if we were to make a decision based on those facts the smart choice would be to move in.

I could end up saving more money to throw at my debt. Scarlet and I would be in a healthier environment. I would be closer to the things that are important to me.

So the actual pros and cons for this are:

Pros:

Closer to work, gym, dojo, Zane
Potential for cheaper rent
Healthier environment
Possessions are localized rather than in multiple locations

Cons:

Share a room
May have to get a storage unit
Scared of fucking shit up… again…

Neutral:

Four other cats
Three roommates
No washer and dryer at apartment
Seems fast

I honestly don’t want to ask other people for their opinions. I know everyone who knows me and my past experiences will say not to do it.

If Trevor and John are ok with it, then I’m going to move in. It’s not a ‘should I or shouldn’t I’ thing. I don’t like being at the place with Ashley, so even if John and Trevor don’t want me there, I’m going to be looking for other options, and because I’m looking I’m going to find them.

And while part of moving in with Zane does, in fact, have to do with being closer to him, a larger part of it has to do with being closer to the area I want to be in. I love Winter Park. It’s where I first lived when I moved to Florida. It’s ‘my’ home. It’s ‘my’ Publix. It’s ‘my’ 711. It’s where I want to be. It’s where I am comfortable and it’s what I picture when I think of Florida. It’s what I picture when I tell people about ‘home’.

I think I’ll be happier at the apartment. Mostly because I’m already there and I have been more balanced these past two-ish months then I have been in a while. I have been getting better in a lot of areas since September. And I’m still getting better in those areas, but now I’m adding the social section of my life back into the mix. And I think that’s a good thing.

I think the only way to know if this is good or bad or not is to try it. So I’m going to. I am going to keep thinking it over, and Zane and I will talk more, and we’ll figure it out for us. I feel like the only real reason for not moving in would be the fear of repeating past mistakes.

This is a different situation with a different person. And if fear is the only reason I have to not do something, then that’s a pretty shitty reason. I will acknowledge my past, and I will (try…) to learn from it. I refuse to be controlled by it, though.

Zane and I agreed that we’re still friends, companions, and that this isn’t a life long commitment. This isn’t moving in because we’re madly in love with each other. This is moving in because, realistically, it’s pretty stupid not to.

Without talking to John and Trevor there really isn’t much more to do. It’s all just theory at this point. We may not even be able to do it.

That’s it for now. At least it’s written and out there and I know the areas I need to chew on more.

Prompt Pages 0045: Quote Prompt #3

Occupy Daily Prompt

Discuss your thoughts on the meaning behind the quote(s).

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ― poet and author Maya Angelou

I am thinking about this a lot. I’m thinking about RB (previously known as Sir). I’m thinking about Mother Earth. I’m thinking about my mom and brothers. I’m thinking about the students I interact with. My co-workers. My blogging buddies.

I’m thinking about the way I interact with the people in my life.

I’m worried that I am inadvertently hurting people, or causing emotional discord, and that’s not what I mean to do. The road to hell is lined with good intentions, though. No matter what it is that I intended it doesn’t take away the hurt.

I feel I try my best to be fair and even. I try my best to think of how others would feel. I try to think about how I would feel in their situation. And I feel I am losing that right now. I feel that I am focusing too much on myself and being reckless and inconsiderate to the people around me.

I am thinking of the projects that I haven’t helped on. The questions I haven’t answered. Yet at the same time how it is not up to me to solve every problem. I’m trying to find the balance in these situations. I’m trying to be more than my job. But it hurts the people who look to me when I am not there as often as I normally am.

I am supposed to be building them to be independent, self-confident, self-reliant, so by constantly being present I am in a way hindering them. I also feel like I’m letting them down by not being there. Failing them in some way. And those conflicting emotions war inside me.

I’m worried that I’m letting my mom down. Am I staying in touch enough? Am I making her proud? Will she feel let down if I got involved with another person? Is it worth the worry it will cause her? Would my choices make her feel bad?

What about Mother Earth? I know she wants me to be happy. I know she knows being in Orlando is hard for me. Does that make my actions ok? Am I being selfish? I think I made her feel bad. Maybe this is all inside of my head and I’m worrying for nothing. It’s not a fun feeling, though. I don’t like thinking that I’ve hurt those that I love. I don’t like thinking that because I am weak willed that I have injured my other half.

And RB. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be friends when I feel disrespected and hurt. I don’t know how to reach out and be compassionate right now and I feel that makes me low. I don’t know how to let go, move on, which makes me feel like I am causing additional pain to an already hard situation simply over pride.

That’s not fair of me. I should be there for my friends, thick and thin. But I can’t make myself do it. I can’t make myself get over the wall in my head. And because of that someone else is hurting. It makes me feel like I am a bad person, shallow.

I am having to make choices, and I know that feelings are involved, and that worries me. I want to be happy, but I don’t want it to come at the expense of others. It doesn’t matter what I say, what I do. What will be remembered are the feelings.

How are my actions making people feel? That is what I am constantly thinking of at the moment.

Prompt Page 0042: Meaning

Occupy Daily Prompt

Is there a song that you’ve really never given a second thought to and then heard/read the lyrics to and said to yourself, what the heck?!?

I’m most likely a bad person to ask when it comes to song lyrics. I don’t normally go with what is ‘intended’. I go with that I feel, or what the words mean to me.

In the prompt one of the lyrics mentioned is “Hold on for one more day.” It is mentioned that maybe that’s silly, that the lyric doesn’t make much sense, or that in a given situation it’s bad advice.

But to me that lyric does make sense.

There is a movie called Jump Tomorrow, and in it there is a scene where one of the characters is going to kill himself. He is drunk, trying to drown out his sorrows. The woman he wanted to marry rejected him, and he is on the roof of a building, yelling and crying, and is going to jump from the roof so he no longer has to suffer.

The main character runs up to the roof and beings talking to the man, saying not to jump today. Wait until tomorrow. Jump tomorrow.

The song lyric, “Hold on for one more day,” reminds me of that phrase, that scene.

Tomorrow gives you 86,400 seconds where you can change things, or do things differently.

Don’t like where you’re at? Do something about it.

If you jump, if you let go, you don’t get that chance. You can’t do anything if you’re not here.

Admittedly this is all taken out of context, but words are subjective. What they mean depends on the state of mind you are in, the connotation you have associated with them, the other words and phrases around them.

Words are trains of thought, and not all of them are tied together. Songs especially are artistic creations, as much as any painting is. Just because we may not be able to see meaning behind the shapes, or receive the message intended, doesn’t mean that for the artist there isn’t some connection there.

Or maybe we make a connection when none was intended. It’s all subjective, it’s all art. We make it what we want.

Musing Moments 0022: 30 Day Challenge – Day 13

Relationships are the focus of day 13. This was the day that I dropped off the second time. Not so much because it was hard and I wasn’t ready for it. It was more because I became so introspective that I needed to take a step back and hardcore analyze my life.

Who was I associating myself with? Who were my friends? What state were my relationships in?

The first time I got to this point in the challenge I realized how weak I had let my most important relationships get. My relationship with my mom and brothers, my relationships with my friends from college. The handful of people I still cared about from high school.

I had been so focused and wrapped up in my own internal battles that I had withdrawn from the people I loved, and it took this challenge for me to realize just how far I had pulled way from the world.

I realized what relationships I had in my life that were negative and dragging me further down even though I was doing my best to stand up. I realized how that negativity was eating away at my efforts.

So this can be another really intense day. It’s another day that calls for brutal honesty.

Today’s homework is to look at the relationships in your life and to identify which ones aren’t healthy for you, and which people in your life push you and encourage you to be a better person. What relationships deserve more of your time and energy, and which ones might be better off falling to the wayside?

Unhealthy Relationships

It pains me to list Ari here. I have interacted with her a handful of times this month, passing each other in the halls, and it has been fine. But I feel it is more a ‘calm before the storm’.

Part of me wants to hang out with her, and to be able to go back to the pub and have drinks and a fun time, but I don’t think it would stay that way. I know she still has feelings for me, and I don’t know how to contend with that when I have already stated what I am comfortable with as far as our dynamic is concerned.

I’m not sure what else to do other than to keep my distance, which doesn’t solve the problem. Keeping my distance feels like a band-aid, letting infection fester under the surface. I have already been open and honest, I have already spoken my words. What other remedy is there? What can be done when those words are not respected and honored other than to walk away?

This is something to meditate further on. However, this is the only relationship in my life with any sort of infection.

Inspiring Relationships

My family will always push me and inspire me to be my best. Without their love and support I wouldn’t be half the person I am today. My mom and brothers are always there for me, even when I mess up.

My mom said it best when she said, “If any of you turned into a serial killer, I would be mildly disappointed.” That is unconditional love and acceptance, and I will always be grateful for having my family members in my life.

Mother Earth is another person who makes me strive to be the best I can be. I want to bring her honor, for her to have pride in who I am, and pleased with the person I am becoming.

I want to be an inspiration to her. We’re both striving to better ourselves. If she can do it, so can I. And if I can do it, so can she. We’re each other’s strength.

She is the Mother and I am the Dragon. We are both Earth. Different facets of the same diamond.

Sensei Jan. I’m not sure why I am so drawn to him. And I feel bad that I feel closer to Jan than Beata, because I love them both. But there is something about Jan, much like Mother Earth, were there is an acceptance and understanding. Some connection which I cannot explain in words. It is simply a feeling, and as an INFJ I am very protective of this vulnerable and misunderstood aspect of myself.

I cannot express it, but I will defend it, fiercely, to the very end.

I feel we are both warriors, that he is my mentor. Not just for aikido, but in life. I respect him. I feel he is honorable, and of good character.

There is a level of understanding, unconditional acceptance, like from my mom and Mother Earth, which might be why I’m so comfortable around him. It’s ok if I mess up, if I am not perfect. He will still be there. He will not be upset or get frustrated with me.

He will still clasp my hand as if we are commands in arms at the end of training, before I leave the dojo for the night. He will still smile and bow to me, and I will return the action as a sign of respect and honor. We will still make inside jokes, and tease each other about ‘bringing it’ when we’re about to practice a technique.

He didn’t think I was silly, or immature for my anger about the bank. He understood where I was coming from.

He’s a guy, a male, who accepts me for me, without the worry or expectation of a physically intimate relationship. I feel safe around him, and I feel like he understands that and understands how much it means to me.

He’s helping me to remember that friendship and love are more important than the feeling of bare skin, and that it’s not wrong of me to value those things more than physical intimacy. Just because most of my age group doesn’t seem to hold the same views as myself, doesn’t mean that I am ‘wrong’. It’s ok to be me, weird and quirky, seeing the world through vastly different eyes than those around me.

Often it’s like I am talking to myself when we have conversations. We have the same views, the same principles and morals. It is as if we are of the same cloth, the same clan. He and Beata are part of my inner circle now even though I have not known them for very long, and I want to be a better person for them. I want them to have pride and honor is calling me their friend.

I feel I need to invest more time into these key relationships. Especially with Mother Earth. I do not stay in touch with her as often as I feel I should. I need to make time for the people who are important to me, just as much as I need to make time for my projects and homework.

Everything is a balancing act.

30 Day Challenge – Chalene Johnson

Musing Moments 0006: School vs Life, Round One, Fight!

Seems like I’ve had a lot of deep stuff on my mind lately. One of the things is my relationship with this second degree I am working on, and my view on life.

School in general has been a huge part of my journey.

I have always loved learning. When I was younger my mom would take my brother and I to the library and instead of getting books about princesses and happy endings I would want to get books about whales and oceanography.

Book about dinosaurs were amazing because they were kind of like dragons, and dragons were awesome.

I always wanted to learn how to do new things. I would try something at least once. I played tons of sports and would practice all the time with my dad. Not because I really wanted to be an all star. I just liked being able to do a little bit of everything.

I wasn’t the best, I wasn’t the worst. I could hold my own and I liked that.

Not much has changed in that regard. I still have tons of hobbies and interests, and it grows all the time as I’m exposed to new things. I pick up random facts and apply them to different areas of my life that seem to have no connection at all.

When I was younger my grades were everything to me. I always had A/B honor roll because it made my dad happy. Honestly I didn’t apply myself all that much in school after my parents divorce.

I hurt and hated the world, and no one seemed to understand.

No. I’m not going to care about this sheet of paper. I’m not going to answer your question about “How would I conserve water… blah blah blah,” I’m not going to focus on your voice while you talk about people in history who have no influence over the pain I am feeling right now.

I’m not going to care because no one seems to care about me.

I remember that I should have failed fourth grade because for months I literally did nothing. My teacher was kind enough to work with my mom and let me make up all of the work that I hadn’t been doing. Even then, the only reason it got done was because my mom some how got me to sit down and do it.

It wasn’t because I cared.

The work was stupid, and it was teaching me nothing. It was busy work, and because I didn’t feel invested in it I didn’t do it and I felt no remorse as my grades suffered.

When I got to middle school and high school I started caring again. At least enough to get back to my A / B standard. I did the bare minimum and still was viewed as an amazing student by my teachers.

I should have been in higher level classes. But I wasn’t invested in my studies. I didn’t care about what I was taking, and I didn’t know what I wanted to do afterwards. I did above average with the classes I was in, so I was cool with staying there.

I gave everything I had to band because that, finally, gave me an outlet for what I felt. I had somewhere to go when I needed to be alone. I would go into the percussion room and play whatever piece of music needed to be practiced.

After I graduated I ended up going to a community college for a bit. I was going to get an IT degree because computers were cool-ish. I was good with them and already knew a lot of tech stuff, so the classes, in theory, should be easy for me.

All of my electives were going to be in programming classes because that seemed better than networking.

I still didn’t have a direction. I didn’t have an end goal.

Classes I took sort of sucked. They were crazy easy and I was bored. Again, I could have been applying myself so much more. I should have been in way harder classes, but my college didn’t offer anything like that without getting through the lower classes first. I aced everything I took, but it seemed pointless.

In one of my programming classes my teacher actually told me one time that I was so far ahead of the class that I didn’t have to show up for the next lecture.

I actually met with that professor to figure out a game plan for my life. I was going to transfer to a university and participate in their ROTC program so I could join the Air Force as an officer.

He was the guy who got me the job at the Citadel, which got me exposed to Full Sail University.

When I found out about the school I had been taking online classes for Microsoft Word and Excel.

Basically I was working out of a book, doing exercises and such. So by the second week of the class I had the course done and was waiting for the test to unlock. Super lame, I felt like I was wasting my life and money.

When I heard about Full Sail it felt right. I didn’t know much about the school, other than I had seen a commercial for it on TV when I was in middle school, so I knew I would never end up going there…

Well my co-worker mentioned that they were actually a university and that they had all sorts of different degrees.

I looked into it, and within two months I was enrolled and moving to Florida for school.

I picked Game Art at first. I was going to learn how to make assets for games and how video games actually work.

From day one I loved it. From orientation, from the first time I set foot on campus, I knew this was where I was supposed to be. This was right.

It was the first time I had ever really felt that way.

I very rarely do anything without tons of planning and knowing all the possible options, and planning for disaster, and having 20 different back up plans. But with this I didn’t do any of that. I literally just packed up and came here.

Super, uber big life decision and here I am just sort of winging it… Seems legit. I honestly didn’t really look into the classes I was going to be taking. I came to the ‘behind the scenes tour’ and talked to a few instructors, but by then I had already signed up for the degree. I was just doing the tour so I could have an idea of how the school was laid out.

I did well in all of my classes. They were a challenge. I loved it. I was learning new things, things I was interested in. I was around people who were artistic and who understood that I looked at the world differently.

Halfway through the program I switched to Computer Animation so I could focus on rigging as my discipline.

I obsessed over my grades. My perfectionist came back out. I spend hours on my assignments. I poured myself into all of them. Even the most basic of assignments for the general classes.

I was fortunate enough to have a handful of experiences which changed my perspective on grades. Grades aren’t everything, and as long as you are happy with the work, that’s the main thing.

I’m wondering if that mentality has swung too far, and now I am apathetic to the work that is required of me.

I am still a full time employee while I work on this second degree for Digital Arts and Design.

I am enjoying the classes for the most part. Some assignments more than others, but overall it’s fun.

I do not see it as a priority, or a necessity though.

I think part of that has to do with the fact that I’m not paying for the degree. I am part of the Faculty Scholarship Program. I have signed a contract saying I will earn a degree from the school, for free, and as compensation I will work at the school for three years afterwards.

I wonder if that has anything do to with my mentality for the degree. Because I am not really sacrificing anything for it, paying for it, it doesn’t seem as important. Or maybe because I already have one, it doesn’t seem as much of a goal or accomplishment.

I think another big part is that I view it more as a hobby. I do not need this degree. In fact I’m really only doing it because it seemed like fun, and something that would compliment the degree I already have.

This degree was never a priority for me. It was never something that I had to do, that I had to be the best in. It is an interest, one to go along with cross stitching and aikido.

It is not my life.

Currently I have missed one assignment completely. I wasn’t very interested in it, and with trying to catch up with everything else in my life from being sick and helping Ashley I was never able to get to it.

I don’t know if that makes me a bad person or not.

I know how frustrating it is as an instructor to have students who don’t care and who refuse to apply themselves. Their work ethic sucks and sometimes you want to ask how they are breathing. They don’t take notes, they play games and scroll through Facebook during lecture. They do nothing to try to help themselves but ask for their hand to be held through the assignments.

It drives me insane to have to work with those students because there are so many others who could benefit from my time.

I’m worried that I’m one of those students. The slacker, the wasted potential.

But I don’t think I am. I do the work, and I do the work extremely well (when I actually do it… ). I do all of the reading and I enjoy most of the articles I am exposed to.

I love the concepts and theories I am learning, and I have already begun to apply my new knowledge to the critiques I give. I am able to more confidently comment on design and support my statements because of the classes I am taking.

I give feedback to my classmates and help push them further. I try to be present and active in my classes.

I guess I’m bothered by this week because since school isn’t a priority, this week sort of sucked school wise.

I missed one project worth 6% of my grade. I was late on my brainstorming for the final project, which I will get docked for. I missed the discussion replies as well, which means I’ll get, at most, a 75 on that assignment.

And what bothers me is that almost all of me doesn’t care. There’s a part of my brain that is a little disappointed because I’m sure I could have at least gotten the discussion reply done.

But I didn’t like the Illustrator assignment that much, so I don’t feel bad about missing it.

I did great work on the info graphic and I learned a lot with it. I got to play around with a few things and I’ve already gotten some awesome feedback for it on Facebook so I plan to make some tweaks and see how I can push it further.

I liked that assignment. It was fun. I felt it was worth it.

I didn’t like the other one, and felt it would be a waste of time.

I’m not looking to be a graphic artist. I’m not looking to use this degree to make me a professional. I’m doing it because it’s fun. So I don’t care that I missed an assignment that I didn’t want to do.

I still don’t know if that makes me a bad person or not.

Is it bad to be a student, but not to be dedicated to your studies? Am I giving students a bad name and feeding into the misconception of being a slacker?

Is it wrong to think of myself a student? Should I find another word, one that implies less dedication?

Should I reevaluate what I want out of this endeavor?

I guess I should identify what I want to begin with. Knowledge would be cool. Experience. Which you get by doing the assignments… Contacts, which I already have a few in my class, and from the instructors I have been interacting with.

Stress relief since it is something art related. The creativity gives me something to counter the tech side of my job and personal projects. Which is actually a benefit that I never though of at the beginning of this endeavor.

I guess I really don’t want much out of this degree. There is no ‘end goal’ for it. It’s just something cool. It’s more of an ‘just because’ thing for me.

The real, main, reason I am doing it is because I get student status while still earning a full time paycheck. Completing this degree is making my loans so much easier to handle.

I’m not doing it for the grades. Never in any of my thinking about this degree did I ever care about the grades.

I feel like I should though. There is still part of me who thinks I should care, and so I keep jumping back and forth on the topic.

Is it right, or wrong? Should I be harder on myself or am I on the right course? Does it matter? Am I really losing anything?

And it’s only one week where I’ve been super bad, and I’ve been bad in all areas of my life because of circumstances.

Should I just wait and see how next week goes? Now that I am solidly back in my routine (even went grocery shopping already).

I don’t know what is right for me I guess. And maybe that is where the issue is coming from. What makes me happy?

Doing the assignments as long as they don’t interrupt anything in my life and cause me stress.

That makes me happy.

I enjoy the assignments as long as they don’t make my life harder.

Is that unprofessional of me? Is that shallow? Is that selfish?

There are so many people who would give so much for this opportunity, and here I am not doing the work.

How does that reflect on me?

I have so many things floating around in my brain right now, but this is the biggest one, more than the mild discord from Sir.

I’m worried that I am becoming something I don’t want to be. I’m worried that each month I slip further and further into apathy and I will begin to learn nothing from my classes, staking by just for the sake of keeping my student status.

Maybe my worry is what will keep me from becoming what I fear. Maybe my worry is unfounded. Maybe it is a survival instinct.

All of these maybes. All of these questions.

Blah… I don’t know. I’m unbalanced because this is unresolved. I’m just going back and forth, over and over.

Maybe I’ll figure it out. Maybe, one day, in the near but not right now future, I’ll figure out what my brain is trying to tell me.

	Warrior Freya on Explore Eidos Solace: The AI B…
	Hadi on Explore Eidos Solace: The AI B…
	Sammi on 002: Fuck Depression
	Warrior Freya on 002: Fuck Depression
	Sammi on 002: Fuck Depression