Jul 28
2010

Quarter after twelve in the morning, up in six hours, and too frustrated to sleep. There isn’t even one or two things in particular keeping me up. It’s a culmination of being over-tired because my insomnia has been kicking my ass lately, feeling frustrated at life in general, and feeling particularly ornery because of the damn heat. So I’m just going to list off a list of what is bothering me tonight, in no order, and not relaying the degree to which one is causing me to feel like this tonight. (Antsy, anxious and pissed off, in case you were wondering.)

– It’s upsetting that I keep making little discoveries of things that I don’t want to see or have in my possession anymore. This past weekend, it was gifts that A had made me and pictures of the two of us and things like that, things that have been in storage for months and I completely forgot about. The other night I couldn’t sleep because of how hot it was, so I went out for a drive to get one of my favourite bottles of iced tea, though the nearest location that sells that one particular kind was pretty damn far. I had nothing else to do so I made the trip, then remembered the stuff I had to return to A so I did that on the same trip, and even though I slipped it under his door and didn’t actually have to see him, just talking was difficult enough for me. But I was done with it, I thought I had finally swept off the final remnants of that and could be over with the awkward exchanging of things. However, tonight while I was clearing out document holder with a bunch of my important papers in it, I found more pictures I have to give back, and it’s frustrating because I worry that now it looks like I’m just finding “convenient” excuses to meet with him or whatever, which is not the case at all. I went to great lengths to avoid face-to-face contact the other night, declined an invitation to go out to eat, because the last time it happened was so damn hard on me. And I have to do the whole “I have stuff of yours, haha, I keep popping up, don’t I? Isn’t that great?” bit, and it sucks. I thought I had done a clean sweep of everything, but I keep finding new things. If I hadn’t already told him to expect an envelope of stuff waiting for him tomorrow, I would do a thorough re-check of everything, just to make sure that was all of it, but I was too prompt and I will be kicking myself if I end up finding anything else.

– I instantly go cold and detached inside when I hear the flick-flick of the lighter, the inhale, the exhale. Even hearing it through the phone does something to me, and I hate it. Especially after talking about my grandfather just the other day, and how horrible and difficult it was for everyone in my family when he died of severe lung cancer caused by his habit.

- As always, one of my biggest issues that affects my mood is how I take my reflection that day. That sounds weird, but it’s how I feel. If I take my image as “Decent, not horrible right this minute”, things are a lot easier to cope with. For the most part, and a lot lately, it’s “Fucking gross, stop looking at the god damn mirror.” I know, I know, bitch bitch bitch, but it’s constantly on my mind and affecting my thoughts and mood.

- I wish there could be just one day that I could say exactly what is on my mind, to everyone about everything, and have no fear of repercussion. I could finally get off my chest what has been bothering for a long time but know that saying out loud would be the worst possible thing to do for everyone else, and my situation. Please tell me that I’m not the only one who feels this way.

- I’m frustrated because things have stalled, and there doesn’t seem to be a way to kick-start them back into motion. I hate the lack of momentum.

- My lack of a future scares the shit out of me.

- Sleep would be so fantastic right now, but it just won’t happen. Now what? I don’t know. Spider-solitaire or Mah Jong, I guess.

– I really wish I could reconnect with a few people from my past, but have no certain way of going about it, and I vaguely remember trying to do it once with each of these people, but nothing ever resulted from it. I should leave well enough alone, and I will… I just wish I didn’t have to.

- I don’t know if anyone even reads my incoherent ramblings anymore.

- I’m not ready to turn 21 in a week… it’s not enough time. Things are going by so fast, but so slow… I wish I could fast forward to real adulthood so I knew what would come of me, and what to expect, but I’m terrified of being a bona fide adult with real problems, unlike these I speak of here.

- I would really love some ice cream… Sigh.

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Jul 7
2010

As part of my new outlook on life, we will be having a conversation tonight when he is off work, at a neutral place that will be open late. Last night, after thinking a lot about what I need to do in my life to be happier, more mature, and more ready to grow and flourish with love and joy, I need to quiet the storm in my head, and let bygones be bygones. I figured that having one good conversation seven months later, now that we both have calmed down, had time to think about things, and be apart for the first time in nearly five years, we will both get some final, peaceful closure.

I know it will be difficult, and last night, I regretted asking to do it because I worried about just how difficult it could be, but in the end, I think it will be worth it. I am hoping that with this open, honest and relaxed conversation, we will be able to say to one another what conclusions we have come to, and end a large chapter in both of our lives. I don’t think I can really move onto the next part of the story of my life without finishing the last chapter, which is what I am hoping to accomplish tonight. It will be hard, but I feel it will be beneficial to both of us.

I just want to say again to Badger how much I appreciate him being so trusting and loving, and not preventing me from going. It means a lot to know that he has faith in me, and is behind me in this endeavor. With his blessing, I am a lot more confident in tonights events. Thank you, A.S.H.

Sigh. Wish me luck.

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Jul 6
2010

On my way home on the bus, I just finished the book “Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Alblom. It wasn’t something that I was interested in reading, it just happened to be sitting in the cupboard at work last week, and I grabbed it because I needed something to read on my lunch break. Books like that aren’t “my type.” The touchy-feely, lesson teaching, feel-good kind of books have never held an interest for me. I want thick plots, twisting story-lines, complex and developed characters, my mind wants to be engaged. When people around me noticed what book I was reading, they mentioned how great it was, or asked about it because they have heard reviews on it, and it shocked me every time. How had I not even heard of this book that has affected so many?

As I read it, I nearly gave up without finishing, because it bored me, was too simplistically written, and again, was just too much of a feel-good kind of book. However, as I turned the pages, I grew more and more engrossed, especially towards the end. Tonight, in the final few chapters, I was nearly in tears a few times, and I rarely cry at books or movies. (Okay yes, I cried when both Dumbledore and Sirius Black died in the Harry Potter books, but who didnt?!) This book really made me ponder the complexities of life, and made me question why the things I perceive as complex are as such. The main character in the book, Morrie, had such a lovely, simple outlook on things. Love, spirituality, compassion… they became what he lived for. So tonight I’m thinking… What do I live for?

I think a reason that the book had the impact on me that it did is because I am afraid of dying, of losing my youth and being just another old person, feeling useless and unloved and unwanted in love. Morrie was so peaceful, had come to term with death, and was so thankful of the time he had left to spend with friends and family, and help them with the transition that death would bring. I know that a fear of death is natural, and the drive for self-preservation is an animal instinct within all of us. And I know that I have brought this up before, but if I felt ready to die, I would make sure it was by my own hand. I would not wait idly by for death to claim me. That lack of control is something that has me sleepless at nights… knowing that any day could be my last, and what would I have to show for it? What kind of impact would my life leave on people? Would it leave any? What have I done in my life to make me think that I deserve to have an impact on others? What do I need to do in order to feel I deserve to leave a somewhat lasting impression on people?

Every day, I am so caught up in my warped perception of reality, in the silliest things in life. I spend probably forty out of sixty minutes, every hour that I am awake, worrying about how ugly I am, fretting over how others see me, if they think I am just as ugly as I perceive myself to be, obsessing over every inch of myself, tormented at the thought that my hips are too wide, my shoulders too broad, my thighs too large, my stomach too flabby, my arms too droopy, my lips too full, my eyes too small, my nose too long, my hair too dry, my feet too big, my hands disproportionally tiny… It’s like a loop of self-doubt, self-loathing, and self-fear that is non-stop, always. The only time thoughts like that aren’t on my mind are when I am fully involved with someone else. If I am at work, and totally in to the role I am doing, talking to patients and answering their questions and assuaging their fears, my mind is fully on them and what I can do to help them feel more confident with their choices. I am not worried about my looks or what others are thinking about me. It’s the only mental peace I get in a day. There are times when I am less bothered with myself, like when I am having a conversation with a good friend about any old thing, but in the back of my mind during these times, the thoughts of self-disgust and dismay beat like a drum, constant, reaching terrifyingly loud crescendos in my head when they are allowed to grow.

I am going to look into volunteering at a senior centre a few times a month. I think that by giving myself to someone else for a few hours, listening to their stories, playing cards or board games, going for walks, I can feel a little less consumed in my own thoughts, and improve not only their time with my company, but improve my own life by letting myself have a mental break. I remember when I was a kid, grade four or five maybe, my class went to visit one of these centres, and I had such a wonderful time with the woman I was paired up with. I wrote her letters afterward, and for my birthday that year, she sent me a card that played music when it was opened. It was one of the most wonderful things I have ever received, and I smile fondly at the memory to this day. I would love to experience that again. I think that some people at these care facilities can be so lonely… some of them may be far from families, or not have anyone to visit them, and they pass the day waiting for someone to come give them attention and spend time with them. It breaks my heart to think of the loneliness that some of these seniors must feel. Being so close to something that terrifies me, aging and death, would help bring me back to a level of reality. Everyone dies, it’s a natural process, and not something to be feared. Instead of living every day in fear of my life being snatched away before I’m ready for it, I should be using each day to show people love and compassion and care, and give more to them than I could receive back.

As usual, I’m aware that these heavy thoughts are something that a twenty year old probably doesn’t need to be thinking about, but I think it’s important to be reminded of my own mortality, in order to make the best of the time I have while I am alive. I hold grudges that I should let go of. I feel anger and envy and lust and gluttony and sloth and every other one of those seven deadly sins, and though I know I won’t escape those feelings, as I think they are natural for a human to feel, I would like to learn to get past them easier, without letting them overtake my mind as they sometimes do now. I think a good goal is to forgive others, and to eventually forgive myself… maybe one day.

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Jun 25
2010

Alright guys, please excuse the upcoming rambling, I have had about five hours of sleep over the past four nights. I am starting to feel a little crazy with the lack of rest.

As you know, things have been going well for me lately, doing well at my job, lots of interest from photographers and many shoots set up, new car, business cards, moving into a new house and whatnot, and I have been really happy about everything. I was riding high on the waves of success, but yesterday, I fell from the happy place I was at. It may just be my mind playing tricks on me due to lack of sleep, or another manic-low… but I realized that the little success that it appears I have is all a fallacy. I am giving off the illusion of doing well, but in reality, it just isn’t there.

Since I found out that my car has a billion problems, it has just got me on the mind-set that I am pretty much useless in most aspects of life. I was nearly completely dependant on A for so many things. He just knew so much about life, and had connections everywhere, and he was so dependable about everything. I knew that if I had a problem with my computer, or with getting somewhere, or if I had a random question about hedge funds or the situation in Gaza, he knew the answer. He was definitely the practical one in the relationship who just knew so much, and I was the fanciful one who knew a lot of random facts about words and animals and things like that, which wasn’t ever much help in real-life situations. I have come to the realization that I am helpless when it comes to things like cars, how to know when I am getting ripped off, haggling… I’m the type of person who would pay sticker-price for a car. Haggling just isn’t in my nature.

I just feel like I am this lost, naïve little girl who is wearing a mask of confidence but underneath, is terrified of not knowing anything, and petrified of going nowhere in life because I never learned to be self-sufficient in ways like that. Sure, I can wander a foreign city alone without being afraid of the dire consequences that come with over-confidence, I am not scared to open my mouth and say something if there is something wrong, I have beliefs that I would die for, but at the end of the day, it’s what you know and who you know, and I don’t know much, and don’t know many people.

Financially, I know that I will be able to support myself, because I have a drive to do whatever it takes to ensure I can. But the other night, I was discussing money and family situations with a good friend of mine. She and her husband are also keeping some in-laws afloat, which is putting a strain on things, understandably. The thought of that happening to me is scary, because I see so many people (some related to me…) that coast through life through the hard work of others, and have no desire to better themselves or get a job and contribute to the house or society in general. Being with A and seeing his enormous drive to succeed and do well for himself inspired similar feelings within myself, but I am starting to see that he was really rare in that aspect. Having a mortgage at 22, a house of his own, is something that apparently, most people his age don’t have. When he and I first broke up, I told my mom how stressed I was that I had nothing like that going for myself, and although she slightly calmed me down by pointing out that 99% of people that age are not living in that situation, I am still to this day stressed about it. I have had a job since I turned sixteen and have never been without one, and being out of work would terrify me. I don’t understand how people can do it. Sure, a break is nice, but after a while, I would feel useless and bored and like a waste of time.

I guess I can somewhat understand the (lack of) motivation some people have to not have a job. My sister didn’t graduate high school (though this was supposed to be the year that she did,) she hasn’t had a job all year, and yet she always has new clothes, a fresh pack of smokes, and is taking trip after trip (Hawaii tomorrow.) If it was ONLY that, it wouldn’t be so bad, but she lays on the couch watching TV for hours on end, and doesn’t help out around the house at all. She leaves dirty dishes everywhere, doesn’t empty the dishwasher, cannot deign to bend over and pick up her wrappers off the floor, doesn’t ever sweep or take out the garbage… she has all the time in the world to do absolutely nothing. It drives me insane. What really bothers me is the fact that there are never consequences for her inaction around the house, at school, or in the work-force. She is rewarded for laziness by foreign trips from her father (and his sugar-mama girlfriend), while I am left to pick up the slack around the house. I literally clean around her supine body, because I don’t want my mom to come home from work to a disaster of a house. My mom isn’t guiltless in this debacle either, because she lets my sister sponge off of her and steal both of our clothes, jewelry, and my mom’s alcohol, and there is never a solid consequence. She is still moving into the new house, still is allowed to come and go as she pleases… it is bullshit.

Perhaps, it is how one is raised, that results in a higher drive to work and be successful and support oneself. I wanted to work when I was younger than sixteen, but in Alberta, it can’t be done without parental consent, and my mom wanted me to be a kid for as long as possible, because I will already be working for decades when I got older. I would say I worry about the future my sister faces with her utter laziness, but I kind of don’t, at all. She is lying in the bed she has made, and isn’t doing a thing to change it. But I worry about what she puts my mom through, and I wish I could get it through my mom’s head that my sister NEEDS consequences if we want things to change.

I’m sure I am jumping the gun about worrying so much about my future, but things just roll by so quickly after high school… I just don’t want to be left behind and regret making bad decisions. Working gives me a sense of identity, some days I become my job. I get worried when things aren’t like that for people I care about…

To sum this up, I am (still) nervous that I am not going anywhere in life, I will never amount to anything significant in the slightest, and I am destined to fail because I don’t know anything about life.

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May 13
2010

I have had a few people contact me to ask if everything was okay, as I have been particularly quiet lately on the two different forums I post on. I apologize for the distance. Just know that it is across the board (no pun intended), and I have been feeling removed from most things and places in life as of late.

One thing is that since Sunday, I have been having some unrelenting and terrible stomach pains. I finally made it into a doctor today, but apparently there is not really anything that can be done, at least on a walk-in basis, unless I throw up blood that looks like coffee-grounds. I had to call in sick to work today in order to actually go to the clinic, which I did at 7:30 this morning. Or rather, I tried to call, then sent two text messages to my clinic director and an email to my assistant clinic director since I don’t have her phone number. I let them know that I wasn’t going to be in today, and I could no longer just suck it up like I did Monday and yesterday. I was just in too much pain, and it is intensified by getting up and moving around as much as I do at work. Well apparently, neither of my two text messages were received (though I have them both sitting in my sent folder…) and today was apparently the first time in months that my other manager didn’t check her emails upon coming in to work, because I got a flurry of phone calls at about eleven. I HATE calling in sick, and I have always had an irrational fear of work calling me over the past few years, so when I picked up and expected to be getting in trouble, of course I was. I told my manager that I contacted both her and the other manager, and said in all messages that I would be getting a doctor’s note, but apparently I just didn’t do enough to let them know that I wasn’t coming in. I was pretty unimpressed, as it wasn’t like I was just skipping out on work for the hell of it, and she made it seem like I just slept in and forgot to go into work and was trying to cover up for it. Whatever, I will bring her in the doctor’s note like I originally said I would, and also show her the text messages that I sent her.

Although the doctor did absolutely nothing to alleviate or even ease the pain I am experiencing, he is sending in a referral to a specialist and a good program that the city is, which is something that never was even brought up in eight years of seeing my family doctor. Useless twit. When I was in the room with the doctor today and talking with him, I had to bite back tears that always, always come when I am honest with someone and they actually seem to care. It frustrates me and is one of the reasons I don’t go see counselors, I hate how that one topic and its intricacies can reduce me to tears with one look. I’m sure they see it all the time, and I know that I am being ridiculous, but when am I ever not ridiculous?

I am in a pensive mood lately. I’m trying hard to keep myself busy, and trying hard to plan out every last detail of my DC trip (nine days to go!) but honestly… I feel like I am at a point where I am unhappy with the direction my life is taking. And it could just be that I am hormonal and emotional right now (every woman’s cop-out, right?) but I worry about the future and where mine is headed and if there is a possibility that I could be happy, truly, deeply happy one day. Will I always fear the future, even when I reach adulthood and am living in the “future” of today? Will I always have the massive self-esteem issues that plague me now? Will I go through life regretting and worrying and on and on… like I do now? Is there an age I have to reach in order to feel secure in myself? All of you guys seem to have your stuff so together… is it just the wisdom that age brings? Is there some secret meeting that all people of “x” age go to and life is suddenly clear and easier to navigate?

Am I making sense?

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Mar 29
2010

Mental unrest, that is. Because all I have been doing lately is sleeping. I come home from work and fall asleep for hours and hours. My IBD/ulcer/whatever the hell I have has been bothering me lots lately, so much so that it has kept me from doing things that I was really looking forward to, like going out for a night of fun with my friends. It is brutal.

I am unsure as to what is happening lately, or why I have been feeling so awful, why I have been sleeping so much even when I am not tired, or why this veil of depression I have felt lately will not just lift off of me. I’m not sure what it will take to feel lighter, because right now, the days just feel so heavy. Perhaps it’s a culmination of months of functioning on little to no sleep, weeks of stressing out over the slightest things, days of immense pain, minutes of trying to “live minute by minute”… who knows?

I wish I could take a life-vacation. Just put everything on hold here at work and home and leave for a while. Or, even better, I wish I could be invisible for a while. Then I could try to live life through other people’s eyes, experience what they do (from the outside, at least) and see what it is like to be someone else. It would be interesting to observe my family, my friends, and see what they do, how they feel, what they’re thinking… Getting inside their heads would be the ultimate. Then I could see what they really feel about different things, without getting bogged down with being politically correct or worrying about who they are offending or anything. Just raw, unedited thoughts. The issue with that (other than the obvious, of course…) is that it would only serve to be a distraction from my own thought processes, which wouldn’t do me any good.

That is one of my biggest downfalls. I know that I can’t run from myself, but I try so many different ways to do just that. Lately, it seems that more and more drugs are being passed around and discussed and used and offered. I am constantly saying no, because even though what I’m being offered is probably relatively harmless, I know that once I let that floodgate open, I will be overcome with the desire to escape my mind through these substances, and it sure as hell wouldn’t stay at mushrooms. And I really cannot afford some crazy heroin addiction, financially or in life :P Addiction runs in my family, and I have a ridiculously addictive personality, so it is just easier for me to avoid everything, to prevent being overcome by a need for anything.

I want to run away. From my job, from my family, from this average life. Mostly though, I wish to run away from myself. It’s hard when there is no one to talk to when I really need someone there. Honestly… sometimes it feels as though there is no one I can turn to. There are always things in the way, be it distance, time, or other stupid distractions. I know this is asking too much. But I wish you just… knew that I need you.

Oh well.

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Mar 26
2010

I haven’t updated in a couple days, which is unusual for me. Yesterday I fell asleep at about ten, when usually do my writing fairly late when I’m at home, so I guess there is the reason. That and I have been feeling like complete crap, but I guess I’m somewhat bringing that on myself. Boo.

Anyway, let’s get to it. There seems to be a large amount of media attention being thrown on famous men who are cheating on their girlfriends/wives. Even South Park satirized it on their newest episode last week. Obviously it isn’t just famous men and happens way, way more often than it should with “regular” people as well. It is so disheartening to hear about family after family breaking up because someone strayed. Even couples who I think will make it forever are crumbling (or crashing) apart, let alone relationships where it seems neither is all that interested.

Tiger Woods on Elin, Jesse James on Sandra Bullock, Jon Gosselin on Kate… that’s just scratching the surface. What’s horrible to me is that these poor women are humiliated on such a public level. It’s horrible enough to find out your significant other has betrayed your trust in the worst way possible, I can’t even imagine having millions of people watch me struggle each day and try to come to terms with what happened. To have magazines speculate how long the affair has gone on, gossip websites discussing how I should have seen it all along… ugh. At a time where these women desire privacy more than anything else, the tabloids are foaming at the mouth to get pictures and ask for interviews and try to dig up dirt not only on the “other” woman, but also on their relationships.

From what I know, I have never been cheated on in a relationship. I have been dumped for not putting out, I have been in competition with other girls, but (hopefully) never cheated on. In my previous relationship, I was fairly confident that I wouldn’t be, though I’m not sure where that confidence came from. There were surely plenty of opportunities for it to have happened, and girls who all but told me they were trying to get A to sleep with them. However, I don’t think he ever did, and he is a great person for that. It’s strange, because to be honest it wasn’t the healthiest relationship. We struggled for years to overcome the trust issues he had with me, though I never did anything to break his trust. It got worse as I lost weight, which makes sense I guess, as most guys find fat girls less than appealing, and therefore he didn’t have to worry as much.

He and I were constantly on the phone, talking or texting. We slept on the phone together when we lived apart. It was comforting to listen to his slow, steady breathing. And it was clear proof that there was no one else there, not that I ever had trust issues with him. We just enjoyed each others company to the point of obsession with one-another. It was reassuring on my end, though unfortunately, it seemed as though I had a very tight leash on me, especially for the first three and a half years, until I finally started trying to break free from the stifling oppression I started feeling.

Anyway… I was not worried about A cheating on me because I feel that love kept him at my side, as well as his fierce loyalty to me that he showed every day. In that aspect, it was wonderful. I had complete trust in him, throughout 99.9% of the entire relationship. However, I may have been completely blind, and over-confident in my abilities to keep someone happy in a relationship with me. Maybe he had a lot of flings with other girls. I guess I’ll never know, though despite the issues and horrible ending between us, deep down I think he was always loyal to me.

As for me, I have seen the damage that cheating has done to loving relationships. I have felt the pain of thinking that it has happened. And I am deeply rooted in the belief that relationships that have love in them are worth any work necessary to remain happy together. And if that’s not happening no matter what effort is put in, the relationship should end before anything happens that will cause a complete shattering of trust, and hearts. I could never be able to look at myself in the mirror if I cheated on the man I loved. I would feel dirty, ashamed, worthless, and just overall horrible. As hard as a break up would be, I would much prefer that to being cheated on, or being the one doing the cheating. It isn’t worth the heartbreak it causes, or the shame it would cause internally.

That is something that I will firmly hold on to for the rest of my life, and the man in my life knows that. I told him from day one that I wouldn’t stand being cheated on, and I want him to leave me if he feels that it may happen. I have such respect for couples who are upfront about issues like that, and how are mature enough to have the balls to say “You know what? There is this girl I met at work and I’m really into her. I think it’s best that we break up before I do something that I would regret.” That is the definition of a man to me. The strength to be honest, and care enough about me to leave before hurting me by cheating.

Now I know that many men cheat just so they can have something on the side, but stay with their girlfriends or wives because they are relatively happy, or at least comfortable. Perhaps they just want the rush of doing something so “taboo.” Maybe they aren’t getting the amount of sex that they feel they need, so they get some on the side, but keep up the facade of happiness with their significant other. I think that sometimes, people just do it because they feel they need to prove their self-worth to themselves (and maybe to others) by cheating, which shows them that they are still desirable and attractive enough (in some aspect) to bag someone other than the one they are already with. Therefore, it can totally be an ego thing, which just shows how pathetic the person is, and how un-worthy they are to have someone who is loyal and faithful to them.

So anyway, this is something that has been on my mind lately (as you could probably tell from my personal posts over the past while.) The thing is, I trust A.S.H. (Badger). I do. I think my problem lies in the worry that the distance between us could put distance in his heart, and maybe the infrequency of seeing each other would lead to boredom, which could even lead to resentment. I am insecure with myself (I know, thank you Captain Obvious!) and I feel worried that I am not interesting enough or worth the wait in between visits to be enough to stay in the relationship.

He constantly tries to reassure me that there is nothing for me to worry about and that he would never hurt me like that. And I believe him, which is nice. I think the drastic change in feelings of insecurity in my relationship is caused by the complete difference in lifestyles between A and A.S.H. A was a complete homebody who rarely went out, never drank or anything of that nature, and preferred to stay at home doing stuff than attending a party or going out dancing. That was a point of contention between us, because for years, I craved to go out and do those things. Now A.S.H, he is the opposite, and lives the life of a more “normal” 22 year old, what with the parties and bars and such.

That, compounded by the fact that there are girls in his small town that I know are interested in him, feeds into my fears. Where A never had tons of interest from girls (which greatly reduced my anxieties), A.S.H. is popular, knows a lot of people, and has constant attention from the girls around town. Now, I know girls better than I know guys. And I know that there are some girls around who go out and try to get what they want, regardless of any consequences. They don’t care about the girlfriend of the guy they are interested in. And in my (crazy) mind, I can see this one girl in particular trying to sink her hooks into him by trying to point out how lonely and bored he must be with a “long-distance” girlfriend, and flaunting just how available she is. It’s the girls that I don’t trust. I know he is way above falling for these sly girl-traps that we have developed so well. But that doesn’t mean the girls cannot try, especially if they have a more developed history between them than he and I do.

Wow, over 1500 words and I am still prattling on. You following me, camera guy? If you are still reading, you get a gold star for being a complete trooper. I’m not sure what I’m trying to get at with this post. I guess the main reason I even bothered writing this long about it is that I am trying to sort things out for myself. I guess I’m trying to put into writing the words and feelings that are scattered throughout my brain, trying to map them out in a way that kind of makes sense so that I can try to see a beginning, middle, and end of my anxieties and neuroses. Unfortunately, I cannot discern an end, at least not right now. I can maybe see where these feelings originated from (a long relationship that wasn’t totally normal and that began with trust issues), why these feelings have intensified (a huge difference in personalities between the two men and their history with women). What is still unclear is what I can do to rectify these feelings, or at least be able to live with them easier.

I suppose that I will be getting a car within the next month, which will increase the frequency that we can see each other, which may help make me a little less insecure. A.S.H. is asking what he can do to help me with these feelings, and I don’t have any suggestions. All he can do is continue to be the loving, supportive person that he is. It has to be up to me to get over the inadequacies I have, which surprisingly run even deeper than my body issues. These are fears that I feel on a raw, emotional level. I’m not only thinking “God I hope he doesn’t think I’m fat and ugly and finds someone way more attractive than I am.” What I’m feeling is on a fundamentally more important level, and that is issues with the core of me, my personality, and who I am as a person. I don’t know the girls he used to date, or anything about them, and maybe that worries me. Maybe I am freaking out because maybe now I am the socially awkward one, who doesn’t have any experience with partying or drinking or anything. I may be the “cosmopolitan” girl as he so fondly calls me, but that doesn’t mean I am any more wordly or experienced than the small-town girls he is used to.

Perhaps a little planning is in order? Like, a three point plan to get over my problems and be more free in the relationship, so I can stop bothering him (though he says he isn’t bothered) with my constant anxiety and pessimism.

1) Focus more on getting to know him and myself so our relationship can grow, instead of focusing on his past or the sheltered-ness of mine.

2) Ask questions to get things out in the open, rather than letting my worries fester and get blown out of proportion.

3) Relax, let things develop at their own pace, and deal with issues as they come up, instead of being anxious about them before they even (or ever) happen.

A.S.H, je t’aime. Thank you for putting up with my crazy, crazy self :P I appreciate it.

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Mar 24
2010

Ugh. I thought I was as fine with things as I would ever be, but after a bad dream last night and worries that started again this past weekend, I have discovered that I am not fine, at all.

I have been “spoiled” in my last relationship I guess, because we had just had each other. There were no crazy ex stories, no cancelled engagements or pregancy scares or living with anyone, nothing like that. I suppose a fair amount of that can be contributed to the fact that I was fifteen and he was sixteen when we started going out, but still, everything was new.

I know this is ridiculous, my feelings towards everything. I know I should just suck it up, get over myself and my insecurities or whatever the hell they are, and just be happy. I just feel like there will be nothing new or interesting for him. Nothing new to look foward to. Sex is a separate matter, and not what I mean. It’s like… living together, engagement… he’s been through it. I just worry that it won’t be all that special for him, it’s all been done. (And I know I’m like, edging on crazy girlfriend territory here and way jumping the gun on things ((marriage? So far away on the horizon. I get that.)) But I have always been a planner, especially about the future, so these things are constantly on my mind.)

I have been told that I need to stop worrying about these silly things, because it’s new in OUR relationship, and the past experiences don’t matter. And that makes sense. If only it was that easy, though. For my heart to listen to the things my head is trying to tell it (Like, “STFU or GTFO,” which is currently how I am feeling towards my heart.) And I’m sure that after a few more posts of craziness like this, not only will I scare him off for good, I will scare off any person who has the lack of fortune for knowing me. Oh well. I might as well let my true colours show, rather than try to hide the real me. (Read: Crazy.)

God. What is wrong with me? I’m not even 21 years old and I am in constant panic over my future career, future relationships, future this and that and the other thing. I am seriously in constant fear and relentlessly stressed out that I am going to make some huge life-mistake because I am not prepared enough and it messes up my chance at happiness for the rest of my life. How abnormal is that?! Most 20 year olds I know are more stressed about when they are going to have their next beer than they are about their future career goals and five/ten-year plans and things of that nature.

I never used to be so stressed about things like that. I had a much more relaxed, laissez-faire attitude on life. Maybe it was spending nearly five years with a super-planner who had his whole life mapped out for years to come. Maybe it was my lack of planning as a child that has turned me into a freak who needs to know what is going to happen in the future or I spazz out about it.

Who knows? I guess all I can do is wait and hope for it to get better, or at least become more manageable.

Ugh. Is it time to go home yet?

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Mar 22
2010

For this one, I don’t even know how to begin. I literally keep writing sentences and deleting them, because I just don’t know how to get started on a topic that I feel so strongly about.

I guess I will start with my family history of smoking. My grandparents (the only two I know, my mother’s parents) have smoked for decades. Well, both of them had, that is, until my grandfather died of lung cancer and various other ailments that stemmed from smoking. Although I was too young to remember him for the (too) short amount of time that he was alive at the same time I was, and too young to remember his death, I still see and feel the effects of his death on my family years and years later. I have seen pictures that for some reason of my very young mother, aunt, uncle and grandmother huddled around his hospital bed as he laid dying from the cancer ravishing his body. They looked absolutely miserable, and he looked more fragile and vulnerable than a baby bird who had fallen out of its nest. I will never, ever be able to get those images out of my head. I don’t know why these pictures were even taken. Why would anyone want to capture the look of agony in my grandfathers eyes? The emotional turmoil of the rest of my family? I have never understood what possessed whoever it was to forever capture those moments.

Surprisingly, none of the generation before me in my family smoked. They all saw the desecration it did to their parent’s bodies, and it kept them away from cigarettes for life. I too have avoided cigarettes, because just the smell of them makes me feel ill. I remember sitting with my grandma in Saskatoon while she rolled her own cigarettes, sitting in the car with her while she chain-smoked for hours. But every time she lit up another one, my emotions are jarred by the image of my grandfather laying in his hospital bed, body clearly wasted away, all caused by the god damn white sticks she continuously sucked back. It made me sick, and so sad.

Even though I had friends who smoked all the way back in grades seven and eight, I stayed away. To this day, I don’t think I have ever even held a cigarette. I remember being offered one by this sleazy kid Eddie in grade six when I was out on patrol duty, and I vehemently refused, even though he laughed at me for not doing it. Peer pressure about things like drugs and smoking never had an affect on me. I just have not had any inclination at all to bother doing anything along those lines. Purposefully inhaling known carcinogens and toxins has never been my idea of a good time.

One thing I am constantly struggling with in my current relationship is the smoking. It isn’t just the nausea that overtakes me every time another cigarette is lit up. It’s the very real, very intense fear that each one brings the person I love closer to some terrible illness that could have been avoided if cigarettes were taken out of the equation. He means way, way too much to me. It has been a decade too long being under the spell of nicotine addiction. I can feel the breath catch in my chest every time I hear a pointed exhale, my heart stops beating when I hear a cough…

The father of a good friend of mine is going into the doctor’s office today because of a really sore throat. Of course, the first thought that jumps to my head is “throat cancer” and it just spirals away from there. The big “C” word is one that I never want to have to deal with, it scares me so badly to worry about losing my loved ones to something that could have been avoided, or at least the chances of happening greatly reduced. It is so simple. I just cannot understand.

In writing this, I realize that I am being somewhat hypocritical, as I know that I do certain things to my body that are also very damaging to my internal organs and electrolytic balances. I have the potential of bringing on stomach and esophagus cancer, seizures, pancreatitis, and kidney failure at the worst, and a menagerie of other issues at the best. I know I’m asking for trouble. I know that I worry those around me, and that it is near impossible for them to understand the draw I have towards certain harming tendencies. But the only justification I feel I have is that it is only harming ME, and is not affecting the air or people around me. Weak, I suppose, but a justification nonetheless.

It angers me greatly that because of how much money the government receives in taxes with the sale of cigarettes, the lives of the people bringing in said money and the people around them are in jeopardy. Some argue that it is a “choice” to smoke, and that the revenue brought in because of the sale of tobacco products keep our taxes significantly lower. However, it may be the smoker’s choice to smoke, but for the people who don’t smoke, like children in households of smokers, or animals, or visitors, it affects them. Second-hand smoke is just as bad for people who inhale it, especially those whose immune systems are compromised or not fully developed. And I know that I for one would be fine paying higher taxes if it meant that the people I love are not filling their bodies with damaging chemicals. And you know what? The health-care system would have a lot more money floating around if it didn’t have to deal with people who had COPD, emphysema, various cancers, heart disease, peripheral vascular disease (which my grandma has had for years), ulcers, tuberculosis, on and on and on. The rate of occurence for so many of these maladies would be decreased significantly if we aboloshed smoking.

Finally, the government has made it illegal to smoke in a public building like a restaurant or office building. Cigarette ads are no longer aimed towards children, and are also not at a child’s eye level like they used to be. They have gone so far as to have cigarettes for sale completely hidden by curtains or other coverings. There are warnings on every single package of cigarettes bemoaning of the inherent risks that are caused by smoking. There are commercials for agencies and products that aid in the quitting of smoking. It is well known and documented that the nicotine in cigarettes is addicting, and yet here we are, 2010 and on any given corner, you see a group of people standing in a little circle smoking, no matter how cold or hot or rainy or snowy or sunny it is. They take step after step, so many things, but it seems that the government will never completely desist in the selling of cigarettes. They will always be there, taunting smokers and former-smokers. They just bring in too much money to ever stopped being sold.

In the end, all of this ranting is a lost cause. I cannot and will not ask the person I love to stop smoking, because it is not my decision. He needs to be the one that makes the conscious choice to stop causing his body so much damage. I don’t want to stand around for another ten years of a pack a day, watching time go idly by until something drastic happens. I am not strong enough to watch him meet the same fate as my grandfather, and inevitably, my grandmother. My heart is not capable of withstanding it.

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Mar 5
2010

So, I thought I would make my 400th post about babies.

I am pretty weird about them. Sometimes, I see a smiling baby and hear its laugh and my heart melts and I just want to hold him or her. Most times, though, babies I see are squaking and screaming and throwing fits and it just makes me want nothing to do with anything under the age of eighteen, ever.

My coworkers and friends have said that they think I would make a good mother, but to be honest, the prospect of children terrifies me. I’m pretty sure I have written about this before. At times, I can totally see myself toting around a baby on my arm, bedecking her (I definitely would want a girl over a boy) in soft-pink Burberry tunics and brushing her shiny blonde hair… It makes me smile when I think about the easy stuff. Then I think about how the majority of the time is stressful and crazy and done on little sleep at all… ugh. No way.

And really, I am glad that I am not one of those young girls who thinks that being a mom at a young age would be great. We have all seen those Maury episodes featuring the girls who are young, dumb, and “just want someone to love.” Then, they go through the vigours of actually caring for a live, screaming, inconsolable baby, and they inevitably change their minds and want to spend as much time as they can BEING children before they HAVE children. I feel the same way. I know that I am not mature enough to have to care for another entire life. Things are way too unstable as things are, I will not throw a kid into the mix.

On another note… you know what drives me nuts? When babies or young children stare at me. It creeps me out because I don’t kno why they are staring, and they get so intense about it and they won’t break eye contact for anything. I know it isn’t a big deal and it shouldn’t bother me so much, but it does. I just wish I could understand WHY they are so enthralled with me. Apparently there is a scene in the movie “Me, Myself and Irene” where Jim Carrey says exactly what I wish I could, something along the lines of “What the hell are you looking at!?” Bahahhaha. If only I was so brazen.

So, what can we take from this post? That I A) Would want a little girl if I were to ever have children B) Children are far, far on the horizen and C) Children creep me the hell out.

Sometimes, I concern even myself with how odd I am…

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