Good News Just Keeps Coming

I’m really racking it in with good news. It literally just keeps coming, and it’s all so exciting!

My love got recommended at his job (which he’s only had a month) to be a manager-in-training! How great is that?! On top of a gift card to the store as a Christmas present. 

I’m starting my job with Instacart soon; part time job as a personal shopper. I’m having motivation to start maybe an etsy business, as well. We will see where all this goes, but I am very happy, and very motivated. On top of our move being successful. 

Everything is looking up. So much so, that the past, and the people of my past, are no longer relevant, i’m happy to say!

Thanks so much! And, until next time!

This Is Unlike Me

It’s very unlikely, and unlike me to write in my blog so much. Considering it has 50-something posts for the past 5 years (total).

Something happened between me and my love tonight. We went back and forth for a minute about spending time together. I cried my eyes out the other night, because he is so into his video games, and not into spending time with me when he gets off work. So today, he wanted to spend time with me, but I was too tired.

Truth is, i’m always tired, lethargic, and sometimes cranky. I’ve been sleeping from 10 or 11PM to about 11AM or later. That’s just been the past week or two, but that isn’t uncommon for me. It’s happened before.

I talked to my friends, and told them the situation. They considered if I might be depressed. I told them I am losing my hair, as well. Well, I recently got tested for thyroid problems, and the reports came back negative. Nothing. Tested for diabetes. Negative, too.

I wish I had an answer, as my goto answer is always “my meds make me tired”. Well they did for many years. Now? I’m not so sure anymore, but something is wrong. Whether i’m depressed, sick (physically), whether it’s the medication, or something entirely different.  

Either way, my current regimen for this is Vitamin D, as per my D.O. 

I am depressed to an extent. Maybe I don’t know how much. I do know that I need some new hobbies, new friends…something like that, to keep me busy. All this idle time at this new place, it’s just deadly, I feel like.

Thank you for reading, and until next time!

(And if anyone reading has suggestions, or can relate, please comment. I will reply!)

All My Life I Had To Fight

I really hope this title isn’t misleading. On God, I had to fight.

I had to deal with my mental illness overcoming me, and people belittling me because I wasn’t “all there”. To them, I was just nothing. Or at least I’d never amount to anything. To them, I was just going to be on disability for the rest of my life. Never work. Never succeed in college. Never do much of anything, if I did ANYTHING at all.

I’m here to say that, that is over with. I got a nice, decent place with my love, i’m trying to goto work (pretty much already have a job), i’m becoming INDEPENDENT. Something people thought i’d never do.

And here I am. Folks, this is mental health recovery at it’s finest.

If you have ever doubted yourself, look at me. I went from pretty much catatonic to independent in 5 years. Quite seriously.

(Pictured: My love, his dog, my cat)

And So It Begins (An Open Commentary To Myself)

Just like I thought it would, and I was scared it would, but I ignored everything and kept my head up. Rightfully so, as I have been excited about moving, and have wanted to move for 2 years, or more.

Bills: Please stop. I’ve had enough. And it’s causing anxiety and nausea. It is making me physically sick. I’ve truly had enough. I should’ve expected this right? I mean everyone has bills. Yea, but i’m just poor as hell, and dealing with incompetent businesses to get my bills paid to.

I’m sick: A few days after I moved, I got a head cold. Two days later it’s over. Great! But now my nose has been stuffy for 3 weeks, and add nausea from time to time. My friends say I am getting used to a new environment and new microbes; throw in the weather. One person said moving causes stress, which in turn causes sickness.

Family: I miss them so dearly, and I am so afraid to be alone out here in a city I know nothing about, and living with someone I only dated a year. I called and cried to my Dad last night. He seemed like he was about to cry as I was crying. I hit an emotional hurdle, for sure. I even made sure to bring the teddy bear he gave me one Valentine’s Day. I AM a Daddy’s girl, definitely.

This open commentary to myself has never felt more cathartic.

Thank you for reading.



Taking A Leap Of Faith (A Realization Post)

So I did it. I finally became independent. It only took 28 years!

Moving out is so cathartic, yet it is bittersweet to visit parents at home.

Here I am, with the love of my life, blogging, in our own place. How awesome! Right? Well, yes, but to an extent. The cons? Well, the bills, and the neighbors are ‘eh’, oh, and the lack of money because of bills, yea…

The pros? Way too many. They outdo the cons (even though bills are a major thing right now). But, the independence, being with my love (and so much closer to sealing that lifelong deal we all dream about), the ability to pay bills (that is so quintessential to life, I have money now). Oh, I could go on!

So, as everything in my personal blogging sphere is, I DID come on here to vent as well! So, prepare!

I got into yet another argument with my mom. As our relationship stands, it is very rocky, and i’ll admit (not just me) but she has to tread carefully. I guess what gets me is, the drinking. I drink, too, so no hypocrisy here, no shame. I just am someone who drinks and is, at the same time, honest about drinking. The rest of my family members aren’t. It’s ok. Do you, momma, but, ima do me, too.

I love you, but I just cannot tell you everything mom, i can’t. It would be a big burden to not only my personal intimate relationship with my, right now, boyfriend, but also, my relationship with you.

Not to say I hate my mom, I don’t. I love her with all my heart. Although, she’s just one of those people (cancer’s, if you believe in Astrology) that I cannot tell everything to, and it’s only hurting me to do that.

Do you Momma! I’ma do me!

 

Divorce & The Holidays

When I think about the holidays I think of the typical “jolly” spirit that we’d all like to embrace. There’s so much more lurking deeper inside all of us. We just don’t share it, and if we do we become a “Negative Nancy” or some sort of “Bah-Humbug” nuance that we all had hoped to avoid. 

I can’t speak for everyone factually and I don’t want to sound like I am. So let me speak for myself.

My childhood wasn’t perfect. It also wasn’t entirely typical. I grew up in an upper middle class, mixed race, church-going, mixed family. My dad was my dad. My mom was my mom. My sister was my sister. Of course, I loved them all. My sister is technically my half-sister, though. We shared one parent in common. My mom and dad had me later in life. I could go on with details. We all had a loving life, or so I thought. I thought we all loved each other. I thought love would keep us together. 

When I was coming into my teens, my mom was currently working as an esthetitian. She owned her own business and it became a family business between my parents. She had many customers. Many were repeat customers. She had one customer in particular that used many, if not all, of the services available. She tipped well and even brought her little dog in every once and awhile. She was also clinically deaf. 

One day there was bad news going around the beauty salon my mom and dad owned together. This specific woman, this customer, had been hit by an oncoming train. She didn’t hear it coming because she was deaf. Her husband came into the salon to tell my mom what had happened days later, not saying much else. Little did I know this was just the beginning. 

Over the period of a next few months there were times where my mom would get home from work and just sit at the computer. A computer that was not from our home. It was unusual because she would usually watch Sex and the City every night, or Ally McBeal. I found out later that the husband of the late woman bought my mom that computer. In a matter of time they were communicating in various ways through computer, phone calls, texts, the like. I suspected what was going on, as I was 14 at the time. 

One day I woke up to goto school and I couldnt find my mom anywhere. My dad said she had left the house in the middle of the night to goto another man’s house. I was surprised it happened so fast but I was privy to it. 

She left him. She left us, all of us, for him, for good. 

I was shocked. I was saddened. My heart broke.

Fast forward to now, ten years later and I’m still not over it or accepting this man as neither my stepdad or family member. You could say I hold grudges or live in the past, but this is full-on grief. I’m in the stage where I’m learning to accept the change, ten years later. 

The holidays for 2016 are rolling around and why am I stewing about this now? Because family and holidays will never be the same, and a holiday without the family you’ve ever known will never be the same. It’s a process of grieving. 

Parents Who Help

sometimes im jealous of people who have parents that do everything they can to help them through stuff like this. all the stories ive read about people (usually moms) doing all this stuff and learning about the issues with their child and finding them help.

it brings a real heartache to my chest.
thats never been either of my parents TBH.
they initially didnt want me to have anything to do with psychiatry when I was a teen. very little. i begged for help at the time because living was very unbearable. i eventually hit a rock bottom and quite literally physically and mentally and emotionally dropped out of school without actually technically dropping out. even though before i was giong to  psychiatrist and been to a hospital, they took it more seriously when i became 17 and had become I think so depressed and not doing anything, that I had my first full psychotic break.

they still dont know what to do. or how to do anything. just like in the past. except now they have left it really all up to the mental health system of which i want nothing more than to run away from.  but i am not someone who is able to live without some kind of help. its never proven to be more hard and uncomfortable living with schizophrenia until the early twenties of my life. i will be 23 this month and even though i was diagnosed with schizoaffective at 17 and had symptoms since about 9 years old, It hasnt proven to be so hard until i hit 20 and has become so unrelentingly, mindblowing, head spinning, disorientingly, sicken-ly, harder every year i have grown older.