My bladder is so messed up today.
Right now, I am feeling I wished I had never worked for Home Depot before.
Can you imagine living a life where for more than two years you were not even able to have a single friend?!
Can you imagine a life where for more than two years you were not even able to go and have any kind of life besides work which was 24 hours a day even while you were sleeping?!
Living the way I have been made to live is like living in solitary confinement.
Just when my mind is full and over-flowing bursting with writing, stories, and life – California calls as if it is the center of the entire world more important than anything else in that moment. Blocking my path, my energy, and stopping all creativity in me like a mind-fucking-ruiner-of-all-things as though I am a something to be controlled rather than the someONE that I am.
Adding labels on me, placing judgements upon me, stealing my stories and replacing it with their own rather than letting me tell and show the story of me and watch the beauty of it as it unfolds.
You know, a good leader, a good management style, a good man does not shove you from behind to watch you stumble as you go. It does not push you to the edge to watch you fall into the abyss. It does not steal, debase, or manipulate you into something that isn’t real.
A good man supports, learns from his mistakes rectifies and apologizes for them.
A few years ago while I was at work, a co-worker asked to see the ring I was wearing. As I handed it to her I explained how I was trying to keep the time I took care of my mother close to me by wearing her ring. What I did not explain is that everything in my life had turned into chaos, destruction, juevinille-stupid-games as if the illusions from which I had been living were entirely striped away from my eyes, and I saw everyone playing their part wearing their disguises. I saw them past the colored contacts, fake bellies, and colored skins. I played my part as I saw I was cast in a role I didn’t ask for or want, but I knew of no other way to be sane than to continue their charade.
Yet, it was SO destructive to me – understanding I was in a false reality, a charade of stars and unknowns that I was trying to cling to the last memory I had of when I had a positive outlook on the future, saw possibility, and wanted me to share the greatness of me, and the gifts I have. More than anything else, I wanted to return to the time when I wanted a man to love for the rest of my life who wanted to love me for the rest of his life. Because once I had the love of a good man who wanted me and to keep me as his for the rest of his life than everything else would fall into place as it should be.
Taking control of my mental state I determined that remembrances such as a ring would help me to return and stay in the moment.
When she handed my ring back to me, it was not the same. It was a fake and a counterfeit. Since, I was playing along with this fake store reality I had no idea how to demand she return what was mine back to me.
By the way, Rachmaninoff is so sexual to me. I find him so passionate, consuming, makes me want to devoure the man flesh.
Away I go.
Just when I think I can’t possibly have any more loss in my life it happens again. Everything and everyone I love gets taken or stolen away from me.
The pressure that I have been living with and under is excruciating. Fighting to survive because of the constant pressure surrounding me.
Feeling beaten up from battling sides each claiming me, yet neither one helping me or there for me. With no one apologizing or making up to me for the harm they have caused. Then, on the other hand I don’t know how many times I have to say no to keep people away and out of my life.
I was never fighting. I was just trying to survive. And, I am so very tired of being pushed.
This house feels so tiny. It is really only big enough for one person and barely any furniture. I feel it smothering me.
It is so depressing here.
What a terrible day today!
I have been inundated with an enormous amount of work, projects, demands on my time, and mazes that damn near kill me trying to get away from.
A few things I remembered today that are an unforgivable trespass on my soul:
Not sitting on my brother’s side at his wedding. I cannot explain even how it happened – I saw my date sitting on the wrong side and I went to sit beside him. It wasn’t until I sat down I realized I was sitting on the wrong side. Do I get up in the middle of the ceremony disturbing everything to correct my mistake? The answer is yes! How I wish I had made a huge scene even to correct the error.
A kind of tired wears on me. It is not just in the way my drab clothes hang upon my petite frame, exhaustion echoes loudly across my face yelling keep away, I’m worn out.
I’m so sick of traffic. Anyone else sick of the same old shitty traffic?
I brought home take-out today, I’ll be able to eat for days off it. I’m reminded of the days when I took care of my mom. She would go through times where she would not eat what I fed her. She never did eat very much, I would have to bribe her with chocolate or treats in order to get her to take her medicine. Because if I couldn’t get her to take her medicine, what good was I?
So, I would get take-out just to try to get her to eat. Honestly, it was always a great deal of work. I would feel exhausted afterwards, but I felt as if I accomplished something at least.
I would have gotten her up, bathed, and dressed. Given her a ride, so she was out of the house and out of bed. She would have walked some instead of lying down in bed. Then, she would have had some real food.
It wasn’t just the drive and getting out of the house. She loved people. She worked with people her whole life, international students, refugees, and children. All shapes, all sizes, all colors, all ethnicities, she truly loved people.
She would reach for people, talk to strangers even after her strokes she never changed, she never altered. She loved people and she wanted to make sure they – whomever she came across – knew she loved them. Maybe it was her belief in God, maybe she was compensating for a lack of love in her own life, maybe she saw something no one else did. I don’t know, but she loved people.
They say the apple doesn’t fall from the tree, and that’s true. Sometimes people might find that hard to find in me as it was my job to protect her which sometimes meant asserting a different approach.
It’s a kind of terribleness to no longer have someone to care for. I’m like a mother without a child, a nurse without a patient, or a solider without a fight.
Given my present circumstances that continue to keep those who know and care about me far, far away, I believe my loss to be unrecoverable.
Once, I went into a store and I thought I would get married there. I can’t explain that. Perhaps there was an unfair advantage that persuaded me into believing that story, I’m not sure. But, I believed it. And I believed it would help to marry him.
I will cry when I am ready, but not before then. They will be my tears and no one else’s. Don’t push your luck, buddy.
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 