It’s pretty humbling how much situations can change in such a short period of time. Although it’s only been a month or so since I last posted, things have changed drastically. I have a new job which is like a breath of fresh air after being unemployed for a few months. I don’t hate it. It’s a step up from the soul-sucking data entry job I worked at for 2 weeks. I just need to make it through school. I graduate in less than 2 years and I have already begun dabbling in the employer connection website resources that help students find work. I am thinking of doing an internship (paid or unpaid, doesn’t matter at this point) just to get a portfolio going. This is my future and I want it to be bright.

More coming soon. I’ve also started a sister blog to this one that is darker and…scarier. It’s a blog that will be filled with horror movie reviews and scary stories written by yours truly.


Rock bottom?

My mental health has not been great lately. For the first time in my life I am having days where I’m not okay. It took me a while to realize it. My life is in a strange place right now. I haven’t had a job for a few months, my bank account is dwindling and although I am putting in tons of applications I can’t seem to get a call. And the truth is, I don’t want to work. Not in the traditional way. I have had so many jobs in the past that made me miserable. Devoting 40 hours a week to a place that would replace me in a second, being underpaid for the work I do, mistreated and disrespected by customers and managers. But the truth is, I have a life to live. And if I want to live it on my own terms I need to finish school. So I have to try to put the anxiety about my classes in the backseat and just do my best. I am only taking one class this session and it’s my last German class which is great because it’s one of the most challenging ones.

I haven’t felt in control lately. In the last 2 weeks I’ve had at least 3 mental breakdowns/freakouts. If it weren’t for my best friend I don’t know what I’d do. It scares me because I don’t know if my mental health is deteriorating or if I am going through a rough patch. I decided to accept a job at a data entry place. It seems mind numbing and terrible but it’s through a temp agency and so I only have to work there for as long as I want until I find something better. It pays decent and it’s steady work so maybe I’ll feel better having some income coming into my bank account.

I just have felt very depressed lately. All the newness and excitement for life just seemed to vanish. I took a short trip to see my mom and I had to get on 4 different airplanes which isn’t fun for someone afraid of flying. Surprisingly it eased my fear of flight but the trip in it’s entirety filled me with anxiety and sadness…it’s a long story but seeing my mom made me feel sad as she doesn’t care of herself and is getting sick.

Everything just seems to be hitting me at once. I am 29, 30 next month. I feel like as a woman when you hit 30 it’s like your expiration date is coming up. If you’re not married/in a relationship by then good luck finding something. I am also overweight and even though I try to accept myself for who I am I find it difficult sometimes. Food brings me joy in life. For the last 2 weeks I have been on the Keto diet and I have lost 10 pounds but it’s been anything but easy. I cheated a bit tonight and had Chick-Fil-A and it was delicious, but food is like a drug to me and I feel like I relapsed. It will be interesting to see if I can get back on the Keto wagon tomorrow.

I guess the older you get the more real life becomes. I just want to graduate and then do something with my life on my own terms. I want a job I don’t hate. I want to write. I want to travel. I want to do so many things and my anxiety is always in the back of my mind reminding me that I could end up like so many others…on their death bed wishing they could go back and do things differently. Sad because they didn’t get to do all they’d hoped.

I want more than that.

Still the sight of you sends ice through my veins

All these years later and the soft skin on your chest still brings me back

I can still smell your salty skin, you

I once took comfort in the little dip between your chest and shoulder

The small little crevice made by your collar bone, I could collect rain there

I’d drink it and I’d be nourished back to life

You were the love of my life

You are everything I’ve come to hate

About it

I’m having a hard time in this world.

I quit my job today.

I quit most of my jobs.

It’s become a reckless and impulsive habit I have developed. When I was younger it used to just be “whatever”. Now that I’m older it’s just becoming a hassle. I quit the job before last because my manager was a belittling jerk, constantly talking down to me, snapping at me and completely unappreciative of the hard work I put in. I never called in sick, never came in late, had great communication and customer service, and yet it was never good enough. She was toxic, the office was toxic (literally, the other girl I worked with had terrible breath) and so I left. I put my 2 weeks in and I left. I made it 1 year exactly. I’ve never felt better about leaving a job.

This most recent job I quit today was delivering packages for Amazon. I worked for a 3rd party delivery service provider. The company itself was good, my boss was good, the dispatchers were clueless but friendly. I enjoyed working with the other drivers. I work hard with any job I have, with this hard work came shitty routes. I was constantly put on extremely difficult routes, downtown, by the capitol building. The most difficult part about it was that we weren’t trained on a dedicated route like UPS or Fedex. We were just sent somewhere we’d never been and expected to maneuver a giant van around. It was frustrating and I told them this. The next day, SAME ROUTE. I held it together. Today, for the 3rd time, I was put on another shitty route.

Just to clear it up, if you work hard and are a good driver they give you extremely difficult and shitty routes because they have faith you can do them, but if you’re lazy and slow they put you on the easier routes. Makes sense….

So I called mid-route and told them I quit. They tried to convince me to stay, told me I could take my time, but I had had enough.

Once again, I am almost 30 years old without a job. It’s scary but also satisfying. I don’t have to worry about going back to work, dreading the stress and wondering which route I will be on the next day.

Now what?

I just can’t work the 9-5 Monday through Friday. I feel myself dying inside a little more each day. I don’t enjoy interacting with customers and dealing with people, I obviously don’t want to be a package delivery driver. I’d love to be my own boss, start my own company. Everyone else does too.

I guess I am stuck. Applying for pizza delivery jobs, driving for Doordash. It’s an uncomfortable feeling knowing there isn’t a steady stream of money going into your bank account each week. This job I had was perfect on paper. Three day work week, 4 days off. $15 an hour. But at a certain point, which I reached today, that just isn’t enough compensation for the stress.

I think I am going to try to write a book. A short one. About something I know a lot about. Then publish it on Amazon books or kindle or somewhere electronically. Let’s see how that goes.

What am I doing here?

And by “here” I mean in this world. In this time. Perhaps I was born in the wrong era. Although I am sure there were assholes even back in the 50’s. I don’t have a thick skin. For a long time I tried to convince myself that I did but the simple truth is that I don’t. I feel too damn much. I am overly empathetic. I let the world eat away at me. I climb into my bed at the end of the day feeling exhausted by human interaction. I bond with people who ultimately let me down. I attract narcissists of all shapes and sizes. I get along best with type A personalities even though in the end they leave me reeling with the frustrating realization that I will never be able to understand them. Or understand why it is people do the things they do at all. I can say that people act the way they do because of past trauma. That they’ve not come to terms with their life, they’ve not overcome the hardships life has thrown at them. I can say it’s because they haven’t accepted themselves for who they are, aren’t comfortable with themselves. Perhaps they lack the ability to self reflect. But that just makes me sad. All of these excuses I make for people who treat others like garbage don’t make me feel better. They just make me feel hollow.

What am I doing in this world?

The keyboard, the paper and pen, those are the things that keep me tethered to myself. Getting my thoughts out onto paper, or typing them out on a screen makes me feel like feeling these things is okay. The mind is a tricky place. It’s full of jumbled emotions and confusion. Everything spins around and around making the perfect storm of self doubt and questioning. I belong in a cabin somewhere. Somewhere beautiful and serene. Somewhere decently far from people, but close enough that I can get my monthly need for human interaction fulfilled at my desire. All I want is this cabin. I just need internet, a Netflix subscription and a laptop. Perhaps a type writer if I really want to get into it. I’d write, and write some more. I’d connect with myself. I feel connected to myself every day at the moment. But the world and it’s assholes seem to always be in the way for that self connection to stick. I need quiet. I need peace.

Or maybe I just need some damn whiskey.

I want to make people feel something

This life can be monotonous. It’s possible for people to go weeks without feeling something. So caught up in work and life that we forget what it is to be human. Then a book comes along. Or even a show or a movie. And suddenly we remember how it feels to allow a wave of emotion to overcome us. To humble us. To make us grateful. Sometimes it makes us angry, or sad. But to me, the entire purpose of being alive is to feel. The older we get the more difficult it is to open our hearts and souls to the world around us. The world can be difficult. It can be unkind. It can be impossible.

So along comes a book. One so well-written it was almost like it was written for you. You devour each page, not even noticing when you turn to the next. You’re in another world. Feeling emotions you didn’t know you still had. Your eyes slide right to left, right to left. Before you know it you’re crying, or laughing or just smiling. And the book is over. And it makes you think. It makes you remember times from the past. It puts you somewhere else in your mind different than where you were when you began. How amazing is it that 26 letters arranged in a specific order can have such a profound impact on your psyche.

Or there’s a show. One you get so involved with it’s like you’re in a relationship. It’s on your mind throughout the day. You feel emotionally connected with it. You feel like you know the characters. You wish luck on some, and harm to others. You’ve adopted a new family as your own. Suddenly you’re left reeling and a bit lost when it’s over. What will you do now? Back to reality.

TV, movies, books…These are all art forms meant to transport someone to a different place. A different mind state. If only for a while.

I want to create that one day. I want someone to read my writing and think “I’m a better person after reading this.” or “Wow. Just wow.”

I cried when The Bell Jar ended. I cried when The Lovely Bones ended. And I smiled at the end of We Are All Made of Stars.  I became so overwhelmed when the TV series Hannibal ended that all I could do was sit on the couch and stare at the TV for an hour, thinking. Deliberating. And then a few years later I watched it again and had the same reaction.

What would life be like without these art forms to deliver us from the evil of life? I can’t wait to writing something. One day. That will make someone feel something.

Mads Mikkelsen, I WILL meet you one day. Until then, ich liebe dich. Tschüss

Difficulty establishing meaningful relationships

I was 18 years old. My older cousin’s ID in hand, off to the bar we went. Drunk shenanigans, karaoke and meaningless makeout sessions ensued. I worked Monday through Friday and spent most of my day in excited anticipation for Friday and Saturday night (sometimes even Sunday night if the weekend was extremely eventful). The hangovers were worth it, the good times were had, the bonds with others were in full force. I had friends that I deeply cared about. People I looked forward to spending time with. So what happened?

Did I just grow up?

Ten years later and here I am. One friend, one person I can truly call a friend, and she’s 10 hours away. We live completely different lives as well. She has 2 kids, I have none. She has a Husband, I don’t want one. We still get along because we have the same morbid and twisted sense of humor (we like the same memes). But that doesn’t do much for me when I am cooped up inside and wish I had someone to go do something with. So why is it so difficult making new friends when you’re older? Most women my age have found boyfriends, fiances, husbands by now. They settled (down?) and now spend most of their time with that person. Makes sense. A lot of them though, they live their lives in turmoil trying to keep (in my opinion, unnatural) relationship going. At times feeling like they’re failing, and at times feeling like they’re doing great. There must be others in this world that have the same views as me. That feel being alone doesn’t necessarily mean you’re lonely. That aren’t on the hunt day in and day out to find someone to make them whole. I feel whole on my own. I feel best when I am without a significant other. I supposed I have a difficult time connecting with others because time and time again I have been disappointed. I don’t want to sit and judge people,  don’t enjoy gossip, I DESPISE small talk (let’s be honest it doesn’t get us anywhere talking about the weather, we all know its FUCKING HOT OUTSIDE SUSAN, thanks for reminding us) So I suppose in my quest for someone I can call a friend, I may be shooting too high. I am, after all, looking for a female companion, who views marriage as unnatural and isn’t interested in it. Who doesn’t have kids and doesn’t view their whole life’s purpose to be a baby maker. Someone who is comfortable with themselves and doesn’t have any extreme emotional illnesses or downfalls that I just can’t relate to. As we get older, a lot of life is spent reflecting on when we were younger. And I believe as we do that, we get caught up in our own little worlds and set in our own little ways. Is it too late to let someone else in? Is it too late to make lasing friendships? I am so jealous of all the people I see with friends, yet I just can’t seem to truly put myself out there. Ah, the dilemmas of life.

At the current moment that is my dilemma, as well as what I am going to do with my degree. Do I become a teacher, and then get my master’s and move up in the teaching field? Or do I travel the world as a freelance writer? The latter sounds much more appealing, but also a little but more work. I’ve never backed down from a challenge before. I suppose I should graduate first. About halfway there folks!


I’m literally the worst

How cruel it is to live with this mind.
One so intelligent, sharp and quick witted.
One that far surpasses that of others.
One with few flaws and the ability to reflect
on ones weaknesses.
Yes I must be surrounded by bad people.
Sick people. Unfair people. Unhappy people.
Surrounded by the stupid and the cruel.
I must work a 9-6 job, 5 days a week,
where I hardly use my brain at all.

The only thing that brings me joy is learning.
How torturous it is to have this mind and let it sit dormant,
without use, until one day it wastes away and becomes
nothing at all.
Or something different entirely.