I don’t know if it’s just because this is a shitty day…or if if it’s a bad day mixed in with a bunch of extra hormones and what not pulsing through my body. Anyway…

My “sister” is a bitch….if she doesn’t die alone it’s a crying shame.

My “mother” is a bitch….if she doesn’t burn in Hell I’d be highly surprised.

My “father” is just a big ball of disappointment. Lately he’s just been out and about doing whatever…completely neglecting my need to get out the damn house and away from these people…he’s making me distance myself from him further and further.

My “friends” are the most annoying people in the world at this moment with their “problems” that aren’t real problems but what the hell ever…to each’s own…or however that thing goes.

My boyfriend….he’s currently injured. So he’s not doing much. Well he doesn’t need to be. But noooo one listens to me anymore…well they never did.

Again. I feel like shit. Oh and for people who’ve actually read some of my blogs before, and therefore have read “The Spanish Situation”. Well he has a girlfriend now apparently. Literally as of today…I shouldn’t be mad but I’m in no emotional condition to take in that kind of information so therefore. I’m going to mad as hell. To think I took time out of my pathetic day to think about him? hmmm…whatever.

My day is shitty today…

Between a teething, whiny 19 month old that has tested every last nerve in my body, to the dog looking at me wrong…Its just been a bad day. You know what I’m talking about don’t you? We all have them. I have to admit though, I do not handle these kind of days very well. I have literally shoved a pillow in my face twice today just so I could scream. I was looking forward to nap time so I could get a little cleaning done and a shower, but do you think my son wanted to nap today? NAH! He said 30 minutes would suffice for him. I let the dog out to use the bathroom, and would you know he wouldn’t come back inside? I live in the city so I couldn’t just yell at him to get back inside like I was wanting to. Finally after chasing him around the yard I got him inside.

That my friends, is just a little insight on how my day has been.

After chasing my dog around I decided it was time to sit down, let the heathen play in his room for a while, and read my Bible on my nifty bible app on my phone. And thats when these verses popped up:

Even youths will become weak and tired, and young men will fall in exhaustion. But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will Walk and not faint. -Isaiah 40:30-31

Seriously how fitting is that? It was exactly what I needed to turn my entire day around. The Lord knows exactly when we need to hear from HIM. I haven’t been reading my bible lately like I should be, but today I just had that urge to read it that wouldn’t go away. I am so glad I will always have God to depend on when I feel like I am about to break. If you put your trust in Him, He will take care of you. He will give you rest.

Bad days to me are days where everything seems to take extra effort. Getting out of bed, answering emails, doing literally anything. It’s hard to explain to someone what it’s like to lose the will to do anything but lay in bed and stare into space. On my worst days I can’t even bring myself to pick up my phone to look at it or open my computer screen. It feels like I’m climbing a mountain, sometimes like I’m fighting a war.

Bad days have always been a problem, but now that I’m SGA President they’re pretty inexcusable  The world doesn’t stop because you do. I still have emails to answer, meetings to make, things to do. I can’t let my brain control my productivity.

I can’t decide whether being so busy is a good or bad thing for my mental health. I think it’s probably a good thing. My responsibilities force me to do things, even if I’m not feeling up to it. Whether I like it or not, I’m going to have to answer that email, climb that mountain.

I think that part of the reason that bad days feel like they’re harder to deal with than ever before is because they come very few and far between now. Which is a fantastic thing, I have never felt this happy in my entire life. It gives me a lot of hope that maybe depression is beatable. I feel like I’m almost there, only a couple more miles and I can win this race.

That’s what I try to keep in mind during the bad days, that without good days my bad days would just feel normal. That my bad days are a sign that I now have something known as “good days”.

Aim for the Stars

Dot and I went to work Tuesday morning as we always do. We were both tired. Monday afternoon we had driven to Toledo for our grandson’s track meet. It’s a two-hour drive each way.

Duncan is in the seventh grade. This is his first year on the track team. He throws the shot-put and the discus.

When Duncan was two years old, he was diagnosed with autism. Since that day, our daughter, Jodi and our son-in-law Chad, have done everything possible to help Dunc be all that he can be. He goes to public school. He’s involved in sports. He is tutored all year round. He is an A and B student. Jodi ran a 26 mile marathon to promote Autism awareness. Dunc ran the last 100 yards with her. He was also a spokesperson for autism on a special program on T.V.

Dunc’s track team only had one coach at the track meet. There was no coach to help Dunc at the shot put or discus event. Dunc’s first shot-put throw was not real good. Then Dunc got a foul for walking in front of the ring instead of the rear. He was upset and discouraged.

I threw the shot-put and discus in high school, so I showed Dunc a few things and tried to encourage him. His next two throws improved. His last throw was a personal record.

Dunc moved to the discus field and his first throw was 38 feet. We talked some more. I told Duncan to release the discus in an upward motion and aim for the stars. His second throw was 52 feet. I could see his confidence growing. His last throw was 58 feet, another personal record for Dunc.

As we were leaving the track meet, Dunc gave us a hug and thanked us for coming. I reminded Dunc to always aim for the stars.

It’s now about 4 p.m. Dunc called to tell us at practice today that he threw the discus 70 feet. He thanked me again for helping him.

It’s now about 4:30. It has been a hectic day. All morning we had equipment breaking down. In the afternoon I worked on billing with Dot. It did not go smooth. As we were closing, Dot told me about some equipment she rented for the weekend. I got upset because she did not talk to me first, as if she really needed to. She knows more about the business than I do. Dot got upset, there were some words and she left upset.

I got home before she did. I was trying to stay angry so I could convince myself that I was right and she was wrong. I was thinking about all the stuff that happened that day. It had not been a good day. Then it hit me. 

The stuff that happens in life does not really matter. All that really mattered today was that Dunc threw the discus 70 feet. He was aiming for the stars.

No matter what comes our way during any given day, may we always fixate on the good things that have happened. May we always aim for the stars!

This time would be different, though. As I felt God’s pull to sign up, I looked forward to the retreat, eager to build the friendships for which I longed. As luck would have it, the week of the retreat found me in one of my darkest places. I’d dropped back into bad habits, and the resulting stress and hunger left me drained, anxious, and short-tempered. I muddled through it, my eyes on the fill-up a weekend spent with God and great women would provide. On Friday I headed out with my best friend, who had graciously come along to support me. Did I mention how hard being social is? Being away from my family is even harder. But we were determined to make the most of it.

It was one of the hardest weekends of my life.

I’m not sure where the disconnect was. From the moment we arrived, I was overwhelmed by the difficulty of meeting people. They seemed distant, unfriendly. This was surely not how they felt, but as time passed I saw more of their coldness, my eyes blinded by my own hurt. By the end of the weekend, my broken spirit had hardened into bitterness, both with the church and with God.

Why ask me to come to this retreat? Why make me suffer through this? How, when I’m so empty, can you not just fill me up?

Where are you, God?

But just as I had reached my breaking point, the tears that wouldn’t stop nearly driving me from the final worship service, God spoke.

I am right here.

But I’m empty, I protested. You can’t be here because if you were I’d be full again.

I am right here, with you in the emptiness.

And He was. He was embracing me, lonely and miserable. He was comforting me, hurt and bitter. He was with me, but I was still empty.

I know I’m filled to be empty again, the seed I’ve received I will sow.

This was the last line from the song we were singing at that very moment. But in my rush to be filled, I assumed we were not meant to be empty, that empty was a state away from God, and that filled was a state full of God. Instead, what God pressed on me was the fact that sometimes we need to be empty. Maybe even really empty, maybe even for what feels like an eternity. Like plants, maybe we need to dry out sometimes to really force our roots further down. Maybe our vessel needs to bake in the sun so that it doesn’t mildew the fresh water. Whatever analogy works for you, the point for me was that God may need me to be empty in this moment.

And not just empty in seed, in the energy to give, but also in friendship. One retreat was not going to build the history with my church that I am sorely missing right now. I did meet some really sweet people, but standing on the outside, their friendships seemed so hard to penetrate. And why shouldn’t they? They had a strong fabric of countless retreats, events, life stories shared together. Our stories are just beginning, and yeah, that feels kind of empty. But empty is also a starting place. All strong fabrics start with a single thread.

I’d like to say that I am relishing the emptiness, but honestly, it still sucks. I’m thankful, though, because it’s driven me to understand how very much God loves me, how very present He always is, even in the emptiness. And I’m working on being empty, doing things that I know are restorative, understanding that it may take longer than I want for their effects to take hold. That’s okay with me. I’m just reserving the right not to like it.

Do you ever think about karma, about all the events in your life that have lead up to that really truly shitty moment and go, well must be karma. but seriously. the fuck? why…. I have done plenty shit in my life, like fucked up shit, but I don’t understand getting karma, if you’d like to classify it as that. Usually in these situations, it’s just as easy to say shit happens, move on and forget. but it just repeats day after day after day. ew. pretty negative I know. but what the fuck. I have no clue why or how. shit is just fucked right now.

eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh.
sozzzzza (sorry) about the rant. meow.

-EBB

 His hatred of women is part of his psychosis. It is such a part of him that he cannot see the irony in his comments regarding his mother’s hatred toward men. I never really knew her, but she did hurt him. She shamed the family by divorcing his father at a time when such things were not commonplace. The fact that her only noteworthy lover thereafter was a male-to-female transvestite no doubt raised a few eyebrows as well. Her alcoholism and illness in her later years lead her to be a bitter, dying woman who could not show love for her sons. All maternal justifications aside, however, the fact that his mother hated men and he hates women can’t be overlooked.

 Apparently my tolerance for listening to the anti-woman tirade this morning was about 2 hours. I’ve endured far longer, don’t get me wrong, but yesterday’s reprieve apparently softened me a bit. The numbness of the previous 2 weeks was shattered by yesterday’s sweetness and better-than-normalcy, and I felt. I felt frustrated by the fact that he kept intruding into the bedroom where I tried to hide from the negativity on the TV news, interrupting my attempts at the final chapters of a book I’ve been reading for a while. I felt helpless to make him feel better. I felt abused because I was being punished for some vague ideal that I didn’t completely understand which was not being upheld by some woman that I’ve never met.

 I demanded peace. Demanded. What was I thinking? I may have said, “Can you give it a rest, already?” I don’t remember exactly, but it was something to that effect. He told me that he had told me to shut up. His face went red. His eyes were wild. He was gone. Completely gone. I cried, of course, even though I know that it only enrages him further. After a few more nasty comments, he pulled himself together. I walked the razor’s edge for the rest of the morning, and he went out for the afternoon.

 When he returned, he looked lost. He was angry, but exhausted. He asked for something to eat, but fell asleep on the couch before it was finished cooking. When he wakes, there is no telling how he will feel. Every muscle in my body is tight, waiting for the inevitable.  

1. They are seeking your attention
2. Something they want and it is not materialising
3. Somebody said something to them and they are not able to contend with that
4. The onset of a grumpy face, gives opportunity to talk intimate stuff
5. Grumpiness makes them convey certain negative emotions to ward off the other
6. Grumpiness could be a ruse to keep to themselves and seek private space
7. It could be a method to convey unhappiness
8. It could be to convey dis-taste?
9. …

It is terrific to observe how people behave. My argument is simple – if people can invoke the emotion of being grumpy, they can also invoke the emption of being happy, but they purposely won’t, because they want to convey something.

The switch is in the mind – to react to any given situation. People who often invoke grumpiness to express themselves, often tend to be emotionally very weak, a rationalisation, they fall back on when they are not able to manage themselves.

People who tend to lose control over their positive emotions, usually end up having bad days and good days. So, I tried the second experiment. I decided to even out my energy and just take it easy in worst of situations.

1. Client delivery fell off the cliff –  keep quiet and smile internally. Things will change.
2. Traffic jams – listen to radio
3. Parking problems – park a mile away and walk. Smile!
4. Colleagues cry foul, listen, smile and move to the next – often there aren’t many solutions anyway
5. Talk it out, swear, but come back to normalcy within minutes
6. Spouse accuses you of being tardy, negligent, woefully short of everything in life – Smile, move on, you can’t anyway change that perception in this lifetime

And many such methods…

Boy, does it work wonders? You bet! I quickly learnt that most days are decent days. Depends on how you perceive them!

So remember, if somebody puts a grumpy face, they are trying to seek your attention. They are not able to manage themselves! Just leave them alone and hopefully they will get off it pretty soon. This is an acquired habit which gets institutionalised during childhood and most people carry it to adulthood.

Some mornings, you wake up thinking that you’ll put your morning to good use. But you realize after a few minutes that you didn’t wake pleasantly a few minutes before your alarm, your alarm decided to play tricks and not go off at all. You’ve slept away an hour you had intended for many more active things, and you spend the rest of your morning scrambling to make up the time. That’s called life.

Some afternoons, you tell yourself you’ll make up for your crazy morning, with a scheduled, productive afternoon. Then someone breaks a dish and you didn’t schedule a “clean the kitchen and make it safe for mortals again” slot, and dinner preparations take longer than you’d expected anyway. That’s called life.

Some evenings, you sit longer at the dinner table than you’d intended, just for the company, and then take a lazy wander upstairs to meet friends online for a community game. You die more than you intended in the game, swear more often than you’d intended in the game, and spend four hours trying to beat the ever-living daylights out of pixeled monsters of someone else’s sadistic imaginings. Then, just as you are about to smash the last monster’s face into the floor, the server crashes and you all are kicked out of the game. That’s called your computer peevishly hating to see you win, even though you’ve never done anything so malicious to it (we’re not discussing the soda pop on the keyboard incident).

I digress.

Not all days go as I intend. A lot of days don’t go as I intend.

That’s life. Because of the special times that my intentions are sub-par to the reality that arrives, I will accept these days when I’m typing madly at midnight and trying not to be angry at inanimate objects.

Especially no step-parent.

I’d like to know what the average is for step-parents who attend IEP meetings is.  Factoring in, of course, that the child in question doesn’t have both biological parents present at said meeting; just one.

So, it’s not like Jay isn’t a physical parent to his kids, but as I’ve said many times, he isn’t here all week-I am.  Which means I’m the one responsible for homework, for behavior in class, parent-teacher conferences…and all the other weekly parental junk.

So, you’d think that in this meeting I would be acknowledged for my presence.  Not. The. Case.

Everything discussed, was discussed between the special education teacher and Jay.  And not that he doesn’t know about everything going on or that we don’t communicate J’s education…but these meetings and the things discussed kind of go over his head.

Which means I get to come home and look over next year’s IEP and this years test scores on my own.  Which is a total pain in the ass.  And the whole thing has ruined my day.

I will say, it was nice to hear about his progress from the teachers and counselors who’ve been helping him throughout the past 2 years.  Whereas his teachers for 4th grade don’t really get J’s background with behavioral and learning issues.  It was reinforcing to have someone on the “school side” defend his (and essentially my) honor and improvement.

Still a long road to haul…but he’s improved so much that it’s likely he won’t even need an IEP by this time next year.

A funny bit: J no longer qualifies for having spelling and reading comprehension tests read out loud to him.  They do this for children who have issues sounding out words and understanding their meaning.  Well…guess who taught J to do that?
Many agonizing evenings, we would sit down and go over his spelling words for hours, sounding them out together, re-writing them until he got them 100% correct from memory, and using them in sentences.
Yep…I give myself full credit for this.
I once asked him if his teachers sounded out the words the way I do and he said no.  And even though he’s basically the boy who cried wolf, I know that was the truth.  If it weren’t, he wouldn’t have struggled as much in the beginning.

Even the other parents I speak to, tell me that their kids aren’t learning phonics anymore.

Maybe it’s just our school district-which is run by the laziest morons who do the bare minimum in required learning.

I guess I can at least be thankful that J’s teachers are now fully informed that he’s been completely off medication for the past month and a half.  I’m hoping that this knowledge will help them be a little less overdramatic about the knit-picky things they’re constantly reporting home with.  Maybe?  Hopefully?  Because quite frankly, I’m sick of the looks I get from his teachers that basically scream, “what a lazy parent she is…not teaching her child to behave!”

And isn’t that the worst part?  How everything your child does, reflects on you.  So even if they do something that you normally wouldn’t care about-you HAVE to correct them if for nothing more than to cover your own ass.

Parenting is hard ya’ll.  I’m not even kidding.

Long time no write….oops.

It’s final exam time and I’v been stressing out about everything. Basically, this semester is killing me – my grades are “eh” and I’m having so many bad days that keeps my motivation down. Oh well :/, at least I’m studying now and working harder now than before! . 

Well, I’m gonna go study – I’ll write about second semester when its over…

Like a Phoenix from the Ashes

You thought I was gone right? Never to return. I’m sure you’ve seen it many times…a blogger who just can’t find the time to write, eventually drifting off into the great unknown, all but forgotten by everyone.

Well, I have returned. I make no grand promises as to this blog of mine…I’ve made that mistake before. But I am still here. I do still have a lot to say. I just need to learn to take time for myself, so that I can say it.

Life has been crazy. Insane. A brief update…and then hopefully I’ll be able to keep up from there. There were 2 major events since the last time I wrote. Not by a long shot all that has happened but the things that have most affected me, for sure.

In December of 2009, I wrote about how we had gone from a family of 3 to a family of 6 and that in the year 2010 our 3 “new” kids would be officially adopted and part of our forever family.

Well, our not-so-”new” kids are doing really well…we are all still adjusting to life with each other. That will be on-going I’m sure. But we are a family now, with all the bumps and bruises and hugs and kisses to prove it. Just not the paperwork. You see, although they were supposed to be adopted in 2010…they weren’t. It just didn’t happen…the boys (10 & 9) have a lot of issues, one has autism and one with a LOT of emotional problems. However, “for real” this time, they will be adopted in 2011. We are filing the paperwork this month, and although we were told it could take up to 5 months to finalize, they WILL be adopted this year. It will be nice to have things finalized, although to us, at this point it is just a piece of paper which will say what we already know.

The other thing that happened…is the hardest thing for me. I have still not dealt with all of my emotions surrounding this, and I think that is in part why I felt the strong urge to come back to my blog. I need to have somewhere to go, somewhere I can say how I truly feel without worrying about how someone else is going to take it. Almost 2 years ago, in April 2009, I wrote about how they had found a tumor in my dad’s brain. How it wasn’t cancerous. How we were all happy about that and were adjusting to life as it would be – with my dad having radiation treatments and then lifelong monitoring of his brain to be sure the tumor wasn’t growing. The tumor shrunk and we all moved on, although it was “a new normal” for us. It made me realize the frailty of life, and the fact that my parents truly weren’t going to be around forever.

This year that fact was hit home even harder, with a much more forceful awakening. My dad was diagnosed with Mantle Cell Lymphoma, a rare form of Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma which makes up only something like 5% of all cases. The VA has said that it is related to his exposure to Agent Orange in Vietnam. The life expectancy of MCL is only on average about 4 years, but it could be a few more or a few less. Nothing they can do will extend that, barring some new treatment becoming available in the next few years. This has been so hard to come to terms with. It’s still hard to even think about, and I don’t think the full realization of it has hit me yet. My dad is dying…and I can’t even say those words out loud. It’s hard enough just to type them without backspacing and erasing them from the page. As though it would erase them from being true…I wish it would. I wish there was a backspace key so I could edit that stupid disease from my dad’s body. But for now, until some brilliant scientist comes up with a medical backspace key that will save my dad…I am going to have to learn to enjoy every day I have left with him and make the most of it. I don’t necessarily think I’ve taken my family for granted a lot…but this has shown me that every day with them is precious. You may think you have all the time in the world with someone, but you just don’t. You just never know when some tragedy will take away someone – it could be a cancer diagnosis that might give them a few years, or a car wreck that will take them away tomorrow. Hold the people you love tightly, let them know they love you every day. That is the lesson I’m learning, I just wish it wasn’t such a tough one.

Until next time…Love,
Mariah

i didn’t finish the charts
because the numbers wouldn’t sum up right
and i was so nervous
my mind shook away
everything i ought to have remembered
and the last ten minutes
were akin to a surrender
that blares louder than the silence

i am reminded of the days
math papers used to do this to me
and i want to scream because
will i ever grow out if it

(as far as bad days go
this is fucking it
but as far as i’ve been done
today is not it)

I am just tired.

I didn’t have much fun teaching today.  Sometimes it’s really hard to have fun teaching.  We only have a few weeks left.  A  few weeks sounds like a lot when I’m this tired.

For back-owed child support.

That he technically shouldn’t owe.

Upon his divorce to the-largest-waste-of-space that ever existed…he was accused of owing her 3 months worth of child support.  During those 3 months in question, the children were actually living with Jay.  Let’s not mention that he was STILL paying $200 a month to the-largest-waste-of-space-that-ever-existed during said months and with the bank statements to prove it.
The divorce hadn’t been finalized yet, and custody hadn’t been established.
He confronted her lawyer about this issue immediately following the hearing and the lawyer said he would talk with his client about the statements.
Well…the-largest-waste-of-space-that-ever-existed swore up and down that she would do the right thing and retract it.

Well….she didn’t.
Obviously.

As I mentioned in a previous blog specifically dedicated to her, when losing custody of her children, the only thing she could even think of was how she wasn’t going to be getting child support anymore.

By the time everything was said and done and my husband’s inability to take care of these situations; the court order was irreversible.
Because he’s been in and out of jobs since September of last year, he hasn’t been able to pay the “back-owed” amount while also taking on the extra expenses of the children living here.

He had court this morning for not making his payments for the last 3-4 months.  He didn’t even have the chance to give testimony because he didn’t have a lawyer present.  So the date has been re-scheduled for June.

In the meantime, he was told to fill out an application at the child support enforcement offices to start pursuing child support from the-biggest-waste-of-oxygen-that-ever-existed.  When we went to do this, the lawyer who represents the state came storming out of the building and told him he wasn’t allowed to do that because the state already has a case AGAINST him and therefore cannot work on his behalf.

What.
The.
F—?!

So…while he owes one set amount that has to be paid off by August, the-biggest-waste-of-chromosomes-that-ever-existed is just allowed to let her monthly charges build and build without any repercussions?
She’s owed us since August of last year but they won’t start pursuing her until probably July of this year?
Had they been pursuing her since November, and she still hadn’t paid by July of this year….guess who’s ass would go to jail?

But no.  That’s just too easy isn’t it?

Oh yeah…did I mention, they didn’t even have it on file that WE have custody.  As far as their office is concerned, she still has custody.

Where in the fu– do I live?
How in the hell does this system work?

Turns out, what I was feeling at Rutgers, was not in my head.  I saw the doctor on Thursday when the pain was only getting worse in my foot/ankle.  I was terrified of a stress fracture. 

The goods news is, nothing is broken in my foot!  And seriously, that is some great news!

The bad news is I have a pretty significant case of Peroneal Tendonitis. 

Peroneal Tendonitis refers to painful inflammation of the peroneal tendons located on the outer side of the foot, a little behind the ankle bump. 

There are two peroneal muscles on the outer side of the lower leg. One long one, called the peroneal longus runs from the knee to the ankle, and one short one, called the peroneal brevis muscle runs from below the knee to the ankle. Both these muscles when they approach the ankle, convert into tendons, which are thick bands of fibers that connect muscle to bone. Both these tendons run side-by-side and curve behind the outer bump of the ankle, then run below the foot where they insert into the bones of the foot.

As the muscle contracts, these tendons pull the lower surfaces of these bones, pulling/bending the foot downward (plantarflexion) and outward (eversion).

Once we had a diagnosis, it was time to treat.  Out of waitressing for 10 days and lots of RICE method.  Additionally in an effort to keep my leg stabilized and because “I can’t be trusted to stay off my feet,” I was also put in the CAM walker for the weekend.  Thank God that was only for a few days.  If I never have to see that boot again, it will be too soon.

And I’ll be rocking this again for a weeks to keep my ankle stable:

I know, I know…desperate for a pedicure!

I was also supposed to do this weird thing…I think normal people call it relaxing?  Yeah, I am not so good at that but didn’t have a choice.  I spent Thursday night, Friday night and all day Saturday on my couch with my foot up and ice on and off.  Sunday, I mowed the lawn in my boot- that was a new experience…!   Other than a few errands, my friends housewarming Saturday night and mowing the lawn Sunday, my weekend mostly looked like this:

 Relaxing is better with wine.

As much as relaxing isn’t my thing, I’ll admit it was a nice break.  I run on empty most of the time, so to be able to have a reason to do nothing was a good and much needed chance of pace.  It is hard to stay off my feet at my day job as well but I am trying.  And since I am not working  nights this week, and I cannot afford to do anything because I am not working night this week, the above is pretty much my game plan for the rest of the week.  For now, running is completely out of the question and I have to wait until I am pain free to get back to ballet/barre but I am hoping next weekend to get a work out in, even if it is just slow on the elliptical and some lifting.  I’ll take anything!

It may seem as though my spirits are up; that is mostly due to the fact that I am so happy I don’t have a fracture.  But the truth is, I am really bummed out.  I did everything right training for Rutgers.  I felt so ready.  And for things to just fall apart and me to be back off running is a huge blow.  I am frustrated.  Actually, I am beyond frustrated.  I feel like I am always injured.  While it seems everyone I know is getting better and faster, I am regressing.  My running has never been the same since I broke my foot and I am worried that it never will be.  The other day a friend of mine said she really felt like a runner now that she was fast.  I said she was always a runner because if you run you are a runner.  She replied that before she felt like an imposter.  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.  Is she saying that slow runners are imposters?  Am I one?  I mean, I don’t think so…but when I am struggling, this is the exact thing that gets in my head.  The exact thing that makes me just want to throw in the towel.  I don’t even know if that is what she meant or if I am just hyper sensitive because I am feeling so low.  I have been fighting injuries for so long…I am not getting any better.  How long do I keep doing this to myself?  I don’t know.  I have to see how this PT goes and in the meantime, I’ll be sticking with barre and ballet and lifting and trying to get strong.   Both physically and mentally.

In other news, to end on a good note…this came in the mail over the weekend:

Best mail I have gotten in a while!

Covers rustle in the dark, as we shift pressing forever closer and closer, no thought, only here and now. Some how even this isn’t enough, we want more.

You break away if only for an instant and in the dark I see you move down my body. My excitement skitters across my skin, our breathing fast in the gloom of your empty house, your darkened room.

But then my heart skips a beat, you’re reaching for my panties, hovering over me at the end of your bed, and I see just your silhouette, not your face, and suddenly I’m in a completely different place.

Light pours in the big beautiful windows that I’d always wondered at as a child, windows that always seemed black from my front yard, but had always entranced me with what their semi circular shape hid.

Only now I know what they hide. This. Hot hands, firm bed, and clothes separating eager flesh, but it isn’t mine. It’s his, and as I lie helplessly on the bed I’m so confused, just not about those windows.

Why are you pulling at my clothes? What could you want from underneath? Hands like teeth rip my cotton shorts while I desperately cling to them, I won’t let go. I keep shouting no, but you won’t stop.

And when you touch me I recoil, I don’t understand what you’re doing, but I understand pain. It hurts, and in spurts I keep reaching for my clothes, I just want to cover back up and leave. But you won’t let me.

You mistake my moans for pleasure and ask if I enjoy, stupid fucking boy. I beg you to stop, and I struggle to get up, and with a smile on your face you hush me, I’m clearly unable to understand satisfaction.

But eventually the struggle bores you and you let me leave, throwing me a couple bucks. Oh what luck have I to get you between my thighs, and I run out, not even stopping to collect my brother on the way.

And as memories move from that day to this moment, cold sweat now covers my skin. Now his sin feels like yours, and I snatch my panties back up my legs and scoot away, keep your lust at bay, I couldn’t want you any less.

Shivery. There’s not enough clothes in the world for me now, I want to bury down and never resurface. There aren’t a pair of hands that aren’t too repulsive to touch me now. And you can’t figure out how you went from hero to zero.

You yell, and I cower, you don’t know you’re only making this worse for me, but I try to make you see, as I awkwardly fumble an explanation, not realizing that I’d dropped the ball a long time ago by not telling you way sooner.

But I’d always hoped it be a dark blot in my past, never dreamt of this new nightmare. You’re mad, unaware, as you yell and tell me I’m hot and cold, that you’re tired of the head games, my dousing your flames.

How am I comforting you? I’m being rent in two haunted by specters long gone from my life, but you ask me why. How could I ever link you and him? I’m suddenly the bad guy for my inability to say why.

And you don’t understand when I assure you this hasn’t happened before, with thoughts I’d kept stored, deep where they rarely saw light. I reach out a hand to you, but you smack it away, I turn nursing your rejections bite.

You’re sleeping on the couch tonight, too mad too be near me, I swipe at tears I don’t want you to see. And as I curl into the tiniest ball I can fit in, I weep silent, hell bent on not letting you hear a sound.

My worst fears have been realized, and I’m damaged beyond repair, no amount of air will stop the burning in my lungs, and try as I might to fall asleep, I gaze into the black and look out for a different man.

And you don’t understand. “Why can’t you get over it?” I tried to explain and was hit with your train of “That’s so stupid. I’m not him.” And I know you aren’t, and I know I’m not scared of you, just what you do.

Years later, I don’t let anyone touch me, even the thought sends panic racing to my gut. And I think what if you’d reacted different, if you’d understood, would I be much better now, would I be all good?

Or will that little girl always be inside of me, screaming and thrashing, sending my love life crashing down should any man ever make a move? Maybe there’s nothing to sooth this ghost and I’ll be host to these thoughts forever.

But you’ll never understand that it wasn’t about you, that maybe this time it needed to be about me. I’ll never make you see how cruel your reaction was, what selfish words and carelessness does.

So I’ll pack that whole moment away in my mental baggage, and like the adage, ‘save it for a rainy day’. Couldn’t matter much that you marred me that day, as I was obviously ruined long before anyway.

Today, I was having one of those days, where you feel sad but you don’t know why. It’s not like anything new happened, or that I had any human contact, but I just woke up with sadness in my heart. If I want to get all analytical, I have a good idea why. Anyway, this got me started on thinking about happiness. I decided I would think about this question, what makes me Happy? I decided to start a list and whenever I realize a new thing that puts a smile on my face, even for a second, I would add it on. I highly suggest anyone to give it a try. Keep it somewhere safe, and when you have a bad day bring it out. Here is what I came up with so far.

What makes me Happy

1. Looking at puppies and kitties on youtube. 

2. Making annoying crunching sounds with crispy food.

3. Playing piano, and singing show toons.

4. Drawing or painting, this is 50/50. It also makes me cry a lot.

5. Cooking while watching Iron Chef and pretending to be on the show.

6. Green Tea!

7. Getting my hair done.

8. walking in Nature. Gardens, mountains, beaches. 

9. Trying to rap. 

10. Making crafty things.

11. Putting smileys on my food, pancakes, omelettes, etc.

12. Pintrest!

13. Bubble Baths

14. Baking chochlate chip cookies. 

15. Fashion Show! Lol, hosted in my room in front of a mirror. 

16. Running! JUst kidding! I don’t like running, but I like the idea of wanting to do it.

17. Gardening. Right now we have strawberries and lemons!

18. Documentaries..they fascinated me! 

19. Museums, and exhibitions.

20. Composing music, but this can be frustrating too.

21. Checklists! I’ve written about my love for them.

22. My sweats. Whoever created elastic waistbands, Thank you!

23. Fresh cut flowers on my desk.

24. Trying to speak french.

25. Pollyana..with haylie mills!

It’s been a while, eh? Two weeks?

You all know my excuses by now: I’ve been busy; English class is taking up a ton of my free time and taking me out of the mood to write (another essay due on Tuesday, in fact. And yeah, we just had our test on Antigone today– finished reading the book just yesterday) or do anything else productive, besides working out because THAT’S my major way of de-stressing, thank you very much! Even naps don’t help me as much these days.

Some news I haven’t updated a lot of you on (except for those who follow me on Instagram) is that I started driver’s ed last week!

..Which is pretty awesome, I know! I’M SO AWARE OF THAT FACT. But it’s one of those amazing things that you have to make sacrifices for: mine being that I can’t work out from Tuesday-Wednesday each week because my classes are from 3 P.M. to 5 P.M. and I’ve got tons of homework and studying to do when I get home. And I like to sleep by 9 P.M., but that’s a different story.

And the thing about not getting to work out during the week is that I don’t really get to DE-STRESS. I’m already a naturally high-strung person, to be honest. So when I don’t get that stress out by working out (..the sweat and endorphins = my addiction), ohmygoodness.. That stress I feel during the week just stays there until the weekend.

..Yesterday? Man, it was bad. After school, knowing I’d have to spend two MORE hours in a classroom, filling out a workbook and watching videos about driving safety and whatnot (which wasn’t that bad in real life and I actually learned a lot in class, but it was just the WORST thing in my mind at the time!), I laid myself down on top of my bed for a bit and just let myself take a few deep breathes… And then cry.

Cry, cry, cry, cry, CRY.

(image source)

It was what I needed! I was an emotional, high-strung mess. I honestly didn’t feel like I could make it through yesterday without falling apart. I was SO unmotivated to do ANYTHING, and the things running through my mind were: “That test on Antigone and Greek theater tomorrow.. Ah.”; “I’ve gotta bake some cookies for the bake sale after class..” (which, by the way, my Relay for Life team wound up NOT needing! They already had 25 dozen cookies set for tomorrow… Yep. #sadlife); “I hope I get to bed by 9..”; “I wish I could work out today”; *gets text from friend* “She wants me to get to school HOW EARLY to help her?!”.

Honestly, they were the smallest things, but they just bothered me SO. MUCH. It was one of those situations where you definitely feel like your life isn’t your own. I just kept thinking to myself yesterday, “I’m doing a lot of things that will make me feel better in the long run.. But right now? It sucks. And it feels like I’m not REALLY doing things to make myself happy.”

In addition to that, I’d gained 5 pounds in two weeks, which is the most superficial thing, I KNOW!! — but oh my gosh, it’s just that I ALREADY felt like my life was out of my control and then my BODY, too?!

This post is getting really ugly and hard to read, with these.. well.. ugly topics, I know.. But I promise it ends well, so if you could just keep reading..? ^_^

(CAUTION: TMI coming up!)

The point is, I was depressed yesterday in a way that I hadn’t felt in the longest time. I felt depressed, hopeless, stressed out– just EMOTIONALLY exhausted (because physically, with the extra food and sleep and rest..? I was doing pretty good! lol xD). I really didn’t want to have to get up this morning to sort of repeat my day and whatnot. But I let myself look forward to the fact that I could work out when I got home, after baking black bean brownies for the bake sale tomorrow. I just had to GET UP, put one foot in front of the other, and just try to act normal and TRY to be happy. Because I’m alive, healthy, and I could work out after school.

And what happened? The day actually went really well and passed by quickly: shortened classes because of a pep assembly in the afternoon, I got to give one of the kids in my 2nd period English familia a whole tray of cookies for his birthday AND got rid of the rest of that batch of 56 cookies (which made me really happy! I dunno.. I like to feed people and make them happy. xD) by handing them out to random friends, got to work out BECAUSE I got help with baking the brownies from my Mama <3

and….

….

….

….

I got my period! (seriously bad taste.. I’m sorry. xD)

Which, if you’ve read the post before this, is a pretty big deal for me. It’s been two years since that eating disorder took it from me (more than, actually.. I lost it in December 2010), and almost a year since I posted about that eating disorder and stated on the blog that “the doctors say… it’s just about time before my period starts coming back”. Honestly, I’ve been the biggest nervous wreck about this because I’ve been worried that I might not have my own kids someday. I know I’m 16.. But that’s definitely something I want to have open to me at some point– especially with baby Alexa reminding me of how much love a baby can bring with it.

<3

I had a pretty awesome day to make up for the sucky one yesterday. The best part of it was definitely seeing that “the monthly cycle” was back on schedule, thereby getting that reassurance that my body was well and  functioning the way it should be, that I DIDN’T mess myself up beyond repair (ED’s are just scary, yo. Don’t do ‘em), that I can run a 10K on Sunday with my sister without feeling guilty/worried, and that I wasn’t that emotional, high-strung mess for no reason!

OMG, I forgot how bad it can be… But I’m willing to look past it. I just feel SO in balance and normal right now! It feels good.

I guess what I’ve had drilled into my brain this week is that you can’t get the really good things without a lot of work and sacrifice and discomfort. But the reward will definitely make it worth all of that in the end.

Sorry for this extremely TMI post… But just an update– and a pretty big event for me, after everything I’ve been through (some of it, like having family from the Philippines traveling with [DISGUSTING]  herbal remedies to get it back, are kind of funny!).

Anyway, I’ve gotta get going… Love you, guys! Have a great weekend!

xoxo, Katie

So many times, as of late, I realize how quickly time goes by.

In recent days I realized how people ask me: “How are you doing?”  Often I wonder if this is just a complementary greeting or if they are genuinely interested in my state.  Most of the times I understand that I am not to answer this with: “Well, do you have a minute and I will tell you how I am doing”.

I believe the answer has to be short, I am either doing good or bad.  If I am doing good these people almost put out a sigh of relieve.  If I state that I am doing bad they look at me in an odd way and keep walking by, or sometimes even answer “Glad to hear”.

It is my strong believe that I am very interested in how my friends are doing and maybe that is why I do not have a lot of friends.  I feel really bad when they feel bad and I am happy for them when they feel good.

I do get upset with people that do not acknowledge that I feel bad, more then once I grumped in my head: “Well then, don’t ask!”.

It is my believe that I am an honest person, I do feel overwhelmed when I need to bring bad news, like firing someone and I genuinely feel sad if someone walks out of the door for the last time.  I am not someone that can say farewell very easy, it is part of my Asperger Syndrome, but even knowing this does not make it easier.

Today the day did not start very well, I woke up way too early, but I was awake.  I managed to get my work done before 9:30 AM.  Well in time before the graduation of my daughter.  Then the rest of the family started with their routines and of course I was the last one to hit the showers and so I felt rushed.  This did not improve my impatience nature and soon enough I felt ambushed and rushed and started feeling bad.  Even before we hit the road my wife picked a fight with me, well knowing where and how to push my buttons.  With a sigh I turned unto the road and drove to the college to drop off my daughter for her rehearsal.  We were to go to a Chapters store and driving up there I realized I took the wrong turns, well not much I can do about it…  Soon enough we were there and my wife went to find some books she liked and I went to the computer books.  Not even getting there my phone rang – it was my boss.  He just returned from a two week stint in Europe and wanted to have some face-2-face time.  I kindly informed him I had taken the day off to be with my family during the graduation and he was very understanding.  Maybe I needed to communicate it better but I did post it in the calendar and I did send him a note about it twice.  Strangely enough this call cheered me up and I went over and got a cup of my beloved Starbucks brew.  It was the first sunny, warm day and sitting outside in the sun really cheered me up.  My wife returned with her purchases and joined me for some relaxation time before we had to head back to the graduation.

Overall the day improved a lot, we had some tears over our “little kid” now not so little any more and my wife received a very nice text message from a dear friend.  After wiping the tears of joy and pride away we went for a very early evening dinner.  It turned out to be very lovely, good food and we were back at home before 5 PM.

My wife and I were mentally exhausted and we decided to take a nap, that was really the best thing and as I am writing this I feel content.

I am not looking further back, for what has happened, happened and what is to happen is future.  One statement has made a tremendous impression on me this week that I would like to share (again):

“I needed to give up the expectation that I shouldn’t be sad. I needed to give up the belief that I’m somehow wrong for feeling the way I do.”

I will let you absorb that and hope you, just like I, have time to reflect on it. 

May peace and love surround us and let us be open about our microscopic truths.

Re-Al