I Want It All To End

I have been lied to by every employer I’ve had since 2013.

All about when the control would end and I would get my life back.

The last few lied about timing.  First I was told six months and it would end – it didn’t.

Then, I was told three months and it would end – it didn’t.

I have been placed in isolation, separated from the entire world since 2014.  My entire surroundings are controlled.  Every person I meet already knows who I am.

This is entirely unfair to me, more correctly it is extremely cruel to do to a person.

I am unable to speak to people, have a social life, or any resemblance of a life other than going to work and immediately home.

I have never been more depressed in my entire life.

I don’t even get to say no.  I don’t get to say this is enough.  I don’t get to say I don’t want anymore.  I don’t get to say leave me alone.  I don’t get to say I do not want a virtual life.  I don’t get to say I don’t and never did want to be virtually fucked.

I don’t get to have a life.

How can a person live without being able to say no and be heard?

How can a  person live without the ability to control their life?

I have been lied to again by my employer which has really hurt considering the source.

I don’t know how to continue any longer when every time I’ve been lied to about a time line and when this will all end where I get to have my life back again where I get to have my mind and my brain to myself alone.  Where no one enters my mind.  Where if someone wants to know what I am thinking they have to ask me in person.  Where no one is able to create pain or sensation in my body virtually.  Where no one can contaminate my food, or the air, or control the weather, or the traffic.

I could tell there was something wrong at my job in 2013.  It wasn’t until the beginning of 2014 I knew my entire workplace was faked, and it ruined me where I could no longer be myself anymore.

I can’t stand looking down anymore.

I can’t stand being walked in mazes and driven in circles.

I can’t stand this fake life – I never could.  I was told it would end in a one year.  Well, this control has been happening going on three years now.

Can you imagine three plus years without having a single friend to talk to in your life?!  Let alone not being able to even have a boyfriend for more than three years?!  To constantly be stuck in a virtual world not of your choosing?!

Changing jobs doesn’t help.  The virtual control remains the same regardless of where I go or do.

I want to live and have a whole and complete life.  I want a man to talk to, to love and be loved in return.  I want to be the love of his life.  I want to be wanted by him.  I want him to want to spend the rest of his life with me.  I want him to find me.

I don’t want to be locked away in a virtual prison anymore.

I want to be set free.  I want to be sprung from this cage.

I don’t want to meet famous people, actors, or celebrities in disguise, or virtually.

I don’t want to follow clues.  I don’t want to choose numbers or sides.  I don’t to be shown or told what to buy.  I don’t want anyone to control my underwear, or the air.

I want an end to this fake life, or I will be forced to end my life.

What I Didn’t Understand

Sometimes prayers are answered, but you just don’t understand it at the time.

Praying silently for hours at my mother’s bedside begging God to give her back to me because she was the last person I had left in the world who loved me.  What good is this life without love?

Leaving my mother’s side for a moment, my mind was overcome with pain, hurt, and loss.  Yet, in a moment a name was whispered in my ear.  He had not been a part of my life for years, I brushed that moment aside as soon as it happened because when it came to him I left so much room for doubt.

When we were together it was different – I was different.  Just being near him I was different.  He made me feel alive in ways I can’t explain.  He had a way of turning me on – not just sexually, but parts of me I didn’t believe I had.

However, I was so hurt by him.  I believed he felt the same for me, yet he never spoke of feelings to me.  I believed he was either ashamed or embarrassed to have feelings for such a large woman.  I cannot begin to explain the pain it caused for him not to speak to me, or share his emotions with me.

Years later after our worlds went in separate directions, I tried as best I could to reach out to him.  He closed the door so severely it made it impossible to approach him again.

Perhaps, though what I didn’t understand in the moment when his name was whispered in my ear was that my mother was not the last person in the world I had left who loved me.  Perhaps, he did love me, or perhaps there was a man out there who could and would love me and that was my destiny and my future.  I did not need to spend years of my life caring for her just to have some form of love.

The problems with my father at home were and are so difficult to explain it was hard to believe in any other future other than protecting my mother.

Perhaps, what God was telling me and letting me know – in an answer to my prayer – is he is out there.

Returning home from the hospital my mind was a mess thinking about him while trying to put my life together.  What do I do next?  Thinking of him at the same time, trying to understand why it was his name that came to me.

He has been the strongest connection I’ve ever made.  He was not my first love, or even my friend really, we were just a boy and a girl who went to college together.

We were in a play together.  I was Big Momma and he was Gooper in a Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.  The director stopped and changed direction.  The direction was for me and him to turn at the same time from opposing sides of the stage.  The director said it looked liked incest.  Because I couldn’t help myself when it came to him, I was excited and happy every moment I got to see and be a part of his life.  I remember the turn.  My heart leapt at the sight of him.  It was something I couldn’t control.  It was just pure happiness.

Our last conversation I will not forget.  He and I sitting on the lawn just talking.  He was going one direction in life and I in another.  I knew that would be that.  We said our good-byes.  I walked away.  But, I looked back, I had to look back as we walked away from each other.

I was a mess for months and months afterwards.  It was as if I was in this world, but not apart of this world as my tethering point – which was him – was gone.

Yet, at this moment he has been presented to me as my greatest enemy, killer of all my hopes and dreams, the one person who has brought me to the point of suicide every day for years.

Perhaps he is my enemy with only one wish to destroy and torture me.

I don’t know.  We haven’t spoken to each other for years.  He chooses to not be a part of my life.

But, an answer to my prayer was he is out there.  I just didn’t understand at the time.

25

A realization hit me tonight – it has been more than 25 years since a man has found me attractive enough to ask out on a date.

I mean, I’ve been on a few dates a few years ago, but they were all a set up.  Only a couple of them where ok-looking, but hardly what I found sexually attractive.

I understand I am no great beauty.  I am just an average looking woman.  But, in more than 25 years I have never met another man – other than Michael who wanted me.

Michael was not a good man.  I didn’t understand completely until tonight that was the last man who is ever going to love me.

I just can’t live like this anymore.

I just can’t manage or deal with the stress and isolation of this life any longer.

Especially since I’ve come to understand Michael is the only man who has and will ever love me.

Laughter – Gone

The last time I remember really laughing was at Panera.

A man asked to meet me at Panera.  I was skeptical.  It felt like a set-up  – it was.

I walked into Panera with this man.  I showed up late, dirty hair in a ball cap because I intended to dye it later that evening.  I ate before because I didn’t want to share a meal with this man any longer because I cared nothing for this man.

At Panera, I saw him at a table with other men.  He had closed the door to him so severely, I didn’t go to his table to say, “hi.”  I walked outside without saying anything or even looking at him when I recognized him.

Yet, outside eating with this man I could feel him looking and watching me from the window.  As always when I was around him he turned something on that lit me from inside.

I was hilarious.  I was witty.  I was so funny.  I was improving and throwing out one-liners that would have entertained the entire world.

I knew I was funny.  Not because the man was laughing – I just knew I was funny on a professional level.

What I have learned.  What I understand – I will NEVER be that person again.

My proof is the last few times I’ve met him and been around him.

I’ve turned away.  I’ve not acknowledged him.

He walked by touching my knee at a bar a while ago.  I didn’t speak to him.  I touched his side as I left – that was all.

There was a time I thought I needed to speak to him one last time.  I guess that time is gone.

And with it, my laughter has gone.

 

 

Not Much Has Changed

I have said and shared more than once that Florida has great potential for the film and television industry.  There is no reason why there shouldn’t be more work shot in Florida.

However, from what I’ve experienced, as well as, from my understanding of the problems involved with productions – Florida has not grasped the possibilities for the future.  Florida makes decisions for the immediate need.  Florida as I have experienced it all these years is still a good o’l boy mentality with red neck mischief.

Florida should figure out making and creating decisions that could impact – for the better – the entire state what a difference it would make for every person for years, decades, and centuries to come.

There is no reason why Florida isn’t more accessible to Hollywood than California.  Except California has put money, planning, city engineering, planned communities, engineered roads, etc.  Florida takes the position of do it yourself.  There is no organization, no commitment to a future for every person for the years to come.

What I’ve experienced – Florida is slow.  It does not learn from the success of others and apply it with a purpose to the now.

I grew up in California, then my family moved to Oregon.  When I moved to Oregon (as a young child) I thought Oregon is years behind California.  The mentality of its people, fashion, politics, its view on the world, etc.

From Oregon my family moved to Florida when I was a teenager.  I was devastated by the move.  I was in culture shock for a very long time.  Florida was so far behind Oregon – it’s mentality, fashion, politics, it’s view on the world, etc. it was unbearable.

Shouldn’t come as a shock, I suppose, since Florida was the last state in the union to amend its state constitution giving women the right to vote – 1971, folks.  Can you believe that?  That is if my internet research can be believed.  Since my internet access has an undisclosed (unauthorised) governing upon it.

For me, it is quite literally painful to see possibility, potential, yet be stopped over and over and over again by stupidity, narrow-mindedness, and a failure to believe in the possibilities of human potential.

This writing for me is still an explanation, or reporting.  It is not the writing I started with, nor is it the writing that I have stored away in the recesses of my mind, but do to the confines of my current life I am unable to reach.

I am Florida.

I have great potential.  I have great possibility.  Yet, time and time and time again I have been stopped, blocked, locked in, physically hurt to stop me, and literally slammed into to keep me isolated, stuck, and a version of what someone else wants of me.  But, it is not me.

If I was able to live outside of this faked life – this unreal life I’ve been imprisoned in – if I was able to speak, to live with control over my body alone, without intruders in my body, in my place of residence, without games of control, without competition for my money and attention, where I could finally be free of 360, it would be the difference between California getting all the jobs and Florida finally being able to stand on its own legs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

What I Booked, Not What I Got

I come here to write.  Because I want to write.  Because I need to write.

All I get to do anymore is explain and report – at least that is what it feels like to me.

I used to have it.  I used to be able to free associate without being pushed, motivated, or told.

I guess, that was back when I still had feeling in my hands, freedom and control over my brain space.

So, now ALL I am left with is telling.  Which is not the same as writing – not to me.

Oh, how I miss the writing path I was on with control over my head and body.  I was just getting to a point of being extraordinary when it was taken away from me – stolen from me.

I did some travelling last year as a way to escape the prison of this house – twice it was an enormous mistake.  Twice I had booked reservations for a carefully planned out trip, yet was forced and manipulated into a different experience.

So, I am naming names here for anyone who cares even if it only me.

I wanted to stay at the Best Western in New Orleans even if it was on Rampart street.  I understood it to be the best choice for me.

I wanted to stay at The Key Lime Inn at Key West.  I was going back a second time to Key West for inspiration because it has gone from me entirely with the loss of control.  I need the inspiration to write again, so I can live instead wishing to die everyday.

I wish I could explain the means that were used to convince me that the decisions I made were incorrect.  But, how can I?!  Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

I wanted to go back to Key West to visit Ernest Hemingway’s house hoping for inspiration to write again.  Visiting his house a second time was the same as the first – it did nothing for me.

However, when I saw that the hotel I wanted to stay at was across the street from his house I nearly cried.  It was so much closer.  It would have been so much less walking.

I can’t stand this experience of being taken advantage of ALL of my memories.  It is shamefully disgraceful.

I would have had a front porch if I had been able to stay at the Key West Inn – all to myself.  It was nicer accommodations and everything.

It is so painful.

I’ve stopped paying attention anymore.  This life has gone on for too long now.

 

 

 

The End Of My Ability

Can someone please explain to me why a single man does not ask me out, does not ask for my time, does not ask me anything?!

I am not unattractive, or undesirable, or ugly, yet I am left in a prison and unbearably alone.

Still not writing.

This house is a prison.

Can someone please explain to me why every man I might find sexually attractive is already involved with another woman?!

I feel the time is too late and my time has long since passed.

Why do I continue on when I so clearly should let go of this life that has nothing left for me.

Let go of this life – Yes!