Tell Me What To Do

It seems I’m just looking for answers. It seems that what I want is someone to tell what to do, what to say, what to think and which side of the fence to stand on. Up until this point my life has been not completely for myself, but rather to please and uplift those I value. My parents, God, my educators, my coaches, my Sunday school teachers. At the time I would have placed myself in a different category; one that was a rebel of traditional thinking and open to those around her. Whether or not both of those things (meaning independent rebel and dependent pleaser) were true, I find myself, in this moment, some where else entirely.

I’ve wanted to walk that fine line between gay and straight and my early twenties are laced with it. I keep wondering when things will start to just be rather than possibilities. I wonder will I ever truly stop this “struggle” between men or women and exist in one perfect, albeit solo, place? It makes me laugh to talk to lesbians and straight women about this whole “bi” thing.

…

“This whole ‘bi’ thing”…this whole bi thing is me! I’m tired of having to constantly defend my middle ground. I’m tired of people not buying it’s gay legitimacy or just calling me greedy. I’m tired of wondering why I have to choose at all. Choosing…makes things so much easier though. Perhaps it’s me choosing. Perhaps my perfectionist ways are too strong for my own memory and I’m forcing myself to choose because existing in the middle is nearly impossible to do.

Today I had a conversation with my mom about hardly nothing in particular, but relatively dancing around my complex truth. Reader: I’ve mentioned that when I told my mom I’m bi she would not except the gay life style and that it was a sin to be let go. She urged me to seek help, move away and change everything I’ve ever done up until this point to wash “it” out. Our relationship, after many conversations, has become something more bearable and slightly more enjoyable though she still wishes me to never act on this. I love her words, “just don’t be flaming.” I remember a friend telling me that was the reaction he got from his mother. Hmm…I guess they would be good friends.

In that conversation I made mention to my therapy and she inquired how that was going. For those that know me I am not shy about telling you my story. My whole purpose in telling my mom so young in my life was I was tired of pretending to be two different people. Now my mom knows this is something more real than she hoped for, but we just don’t really talk about it. Soon enough we will, but for now this is the way it goes and I’m okay with that. So, I told her about my first session. In my words I found my heart pouring out honestly and openly. I did not deny or shove my truth under the carpet, but acknowledged it’s presence. I can’t honestly remember what she said after or even what I said before, but I know as I hung up the phone I felt okay.

It’s weird actually that I’ve been feeling more and more okay each day. What’s weird about it is in this past year of facing it, being scared by it, personally accepting it, declaring it and asking others to accept it I’m coming into a place of peace. My largest fear has been draped around the a response I’ve been seeking so feverishly. I’ve been looking for closed doors to tell me this is wrong. I don’t trust God’s voice in me, so I’ve asked Him to show me the only way I know how, through open doors and people I trust.

When I felt the strength to finally stop playing games and just be done with my relationship with Amy I thought that was it. I told God if He wanted me out of that relationship and it wasn’t for me that here I was as free as a bird. I asked Him to do whatever He must to help me let go and move on. I was so flippy-floppy in my relationship with Amy that I just assumed it was God trying to get my attention. I didn’t want to drag someone who I loved and really cared about through my unsurity when she was completely sure. What I didn’t expect was love to be revealed in her absence. I clung to God whole heartily and carved out my person for His fulfillment. I took the open doors to be His direction and allowed Him to help me just take one day at a time.

How did I get HERE? Not “here” meaning sexuality/preference/faith/age/whatever. “Here” meaning August 27, 2008. How did I get HERE? Through open doors.

I’m pained and confused because I am consistently expecting God to tell me I’m to remove myself completely and fight this desire the rest of my life. I don’t know His plan and I don’t know His purpose for my life, but what I do know is I find myself HERE not by my hand.

So much has happened in the last month since I walked away from my relationship with Amy. I have come out to my mother, fought the battle with her and am still finding my grounding. I have found personal freedom in my decisions from my parents. I’ve still managed to be not as close to God as I would like to be, but I feel like I’m getting there. I feel like instead of turning the shoulder He’s meeting me face to face. I don’t know how else to interpret these things other than His hand.

Take it all the way back to college, if you will. Ever since the Christmas break of my freshman year I have been taking it one day at a time through open doors. I became an RA for a on-campus dorm my sophomore year by His hand. I was suppose to go to Australia with my school for a mission trip, but it was canceled. At the time I kept wondering why, but now that I look back it was the closet summer I’ve ever had with my brother. That summer was for he and I. My junior year I got a campus job that influenced my choice in sorority to which I became president of my senior year. I met the friends that I did and had the relationships I did for reasons. Some of them were toxic and I didn’t take all the efforts God provided me to get out, but He still didn’t leave me hanging. I graduated school with no luck of an internship, so I took a job at Starbucks to just pay for my stuff while I lived with my parents. A month later, through His hand, I landed an internship with a company that found me. The company was ridiculous, but it provided me my first job. I worked there almost two years and met Amy. When I changed jobs to work where I do now I found myself completely broken in my career. Through Amy I met Teal and through Teal I met her mother, my Career Councilor. As I’ve pulled back the deep, core layers to myself I found the strength to tell my mom I was bi. Through the break down of that moment I discovered my deeper issues needed therapy.

Right now I exist in the middle, the testing period. I call it the “testing period” because I’ve never existed in the middle before. Right now I’m completely, 100% in the middle. I am in the middle of career rechanneling, relationship befuddling and sexual preference fencing. I have absolutely no direction except forward.

The only thing I have right now are my beliefs and they are stalling because I seem to be conforming to more of the world than I want to. I’m sorry, but I do not want to exist in a life where I give a fuck who’s dating who in Hollywood or what designer I should be wearing while driving “that” car. I don’t want to believe everything is okay and that gray is the best color there ever was. I want to be black and white. I want what I stand for to be loud and proud with no muddled edges. Don’t put me in your box just because I make up the “B’ in GLBT. Don’t assume I think like you just because I’m a Christian. Don’t you dare try to mold me into your mindset when I don’t want to be there. Just because I’m bi does not mean I’m a Democrat. Just because I’m a Christian (Jesus follower not religion) does not mean I’m going to beat you over the head with the Bible about your sins. Just because I’m twenty-something years old does not mean I have not wisdom.

In short, I find myself still wanting to know “is it right” for so many different things. What’s funny is that as I’m looking for someone to tell me “yes” or “no” I’m finding my own person. In a weird way, I’m standing on my own two feet and it feels okay.

Uh Huh Her

Guys/girls, you have to listen to the new “Uh Huh Her” CD. Seriously, these girls area amazing!

I totally lucked out in ordering their album on their website and scored TWO autographed things! Hell yeah!

Here I’m sharing…Common Reaction

Also, I’m going to (hopefully) score some tickets to their concert coming up. I would love to meet them and get a picture with them. Oohhh, that would be fun.

Come Along Way

It just it hit me how far I’ve come since this time two years ago.

Two years ago I emerged from the most deeply wounding relationship of my life. It was my first girlfriend, Anna, who I dated secretly because of personal fear and in going to a Christian college. I’ve mentioned this relationship before, but what I think I have never hit was how it took the breath right out me. How for at least a year after our dissolve I fought songs, thoughts and issues. Hell, I still fight old habits brought out by her and the festering relationship we lived in.

What made me start thinking about it was watching “The Holiday”. A favorite of mine that I just happened to see in theatres right after I said my final “goodbye” to her. If you haven’t seen the movie, the whole point is two women (faced with similar love stories) escape to different locations in an effort to shed those hard shells. In doing so they find love and everything renewing. I remember watching this movie at least 3 times in the theatre because it struck home with me so much. There’s one part (just paused the movie from) where Kate Winslet’s character says some truly amazing words.

Iris “I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends… you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.”

I clung to these words in hope for change and the aching to start going away. I can honestly say I had never experienced that kind of aching until then.

I would love to rant and rave about the horrible times that constructed the worthless walls of that relationship. How her over ugly, corpulous ex continuously played a part in breaking apart my being. About the time I sat in the rain, bent on my knees in a muddy puddle with tears streaming like the rain upon my head because I just realized her first affair. Would love to go over the many times her ex would try to blackmail me in my school, sorority and family because I wouldn’t stop being with Anna. I would love to share the many times there after where I foolishly took her back because I had developed this fear to be alone and couldn’t stand to loose, to be chosen over for someone inwardly as ugly as out.

Vain? Sure.
Desperately lost? Completely.

I’ve been depressed before and I can safely say I didn’t hit depression as I had with the boyfriend before that (so, could have sworn I was going to marry him), but honestly I can not think of a time where pain existed so strongly, so feverishly against my soul. I lived in fear that I would never be rid of her. Fear that I would never get her memory out of my head. I was constantly worried that she would show up at my work, call me numerous times and demand I speak with her. Her ability to communicate was worthless and she was completely incapable in realizing once it’s over, it’s over. I guess partly because I took her back twice out of the THREE times she cheated (physically, emotionally, verbally, relationally) on me. I held on every promising word of this paragraph in the movie with hope that I would soon be past it.

As I’m watching this movie, I felt the immediate need to write my progress. I think about the disgusting behavior I had in dating her, in thinking she was what I needed and how I couldn’t be further from her. Songs we had together stopped bothering me long ago (I mean it has been two years) and memories are all starting to blur together. I think the one part I choose to keep (and perhaps it’s for reasons I don’t know yet) is when I first met her. How I had no idea why I wanted to kiss her, why I wanted to be in her world.

I can remember how I wanted to do everything with her. It was like she swallowed me up into her will. I wanted to see her smile, to feel her around me, to make her look my way. It’s amazing how I didn’t see it coming. I honestly can not remember thinking about how weird it was I all of the sudden wanted to kiss a girl or blur the lines. I remember sitting there, after we crossed the lines and voyaged never to be the same again, in a cloud of shame, desire, fear, disbelief and emotional funnel suck.

I know what that last descriptor (if you will) read like, but if you’ve ever been in an emotional relationship you know what I mean by saying “emotional funnel suck”. When you’re in the middle the wind is really only going 5 mph, but in looking out over your life or in your current circumstances it’s going at least 85 mph in a circle around you with no control.

Don’t get me wrong, she still pops in my head occasionally but not in the same way as she did years ago. Actually, last year I saw her in a wedding and realized somethings (meaning her) never change. I can honestly say I loved her in the beginning. I was wrapped in the allure of her mystery and rebel/foolish carelessness. I found myself in a place I liked. I found myself letting my guard drop so fast, so hard for her to fuck up everything.

One of the things I’m seeking in therapy is letting go of past baggage. I think one thing about she and I that fucked me up more than ever was how angry I became. I taught myself behaviors that were not healthy. I smoked cigarettes all the time, I spied on people’s blogs, looked at her phone bills to check her lies words. I would call her over and over again until she answered the phone just to make sure she was alone. I became the most pathetic person I could ever be. I hated myself, but couldn’t stop. I didn’t trust her and used my anger to fuel my bad behavior.

I can safely say I don’t smoke anymore and am doing so good to erase all bad relationship behavior created with her. I watch this movie and can’t help but think I’ve come along way. I’ve waited out time and have only a few wounds to heal. That’s rather good considering what the emotional blunder the relationship truly was.

I Just Want To Slap The Bride

On a more upbeat story than my last, long and fairly deep blog, I have a story for you.

Several of my friends have found their perfect someone and are getting married left and right. Thank God none of them are having children yet.

One such friend is Carly. She’s my sorority sister from college that I kind of poo poo-ed on when I met Anna and, luckily, was able to rekindle the friendship post college. She is a unique individual that I’ve respected greatly and enjoyed having as a friend. She was the first person I really be-friend in school and became an instant best friend.

About a little over a year ago she met Chris (I seem to know a lot of Chris’). He’s an amazing guy that ended up with a cruel ex-wife and a lovely little girl. They met, fell in love and are getting married next weekend. I really think they’re meant for each other and am so happy they are getting married.

Now, what makes me want to “Slap the Bride”? I’ve totally gotten the shaft.

Sure, I probably deserve it and when she was thinking about “who do I ask to be in/apart of my wedding” I was not a good choice. “Good choice” in that I bailed on our friendship when she needed friendship the most because I was too caught up in a stupid, ugly relationship with someone who couldn’t have given a shit about me. (I love how girls can rant in one complete, flowing sentence about a verity of things.) Yeah, I probably deserve that, but what I can’t understand is why, oh why, was I the first person she told about her relationship? Why was MY apartment the place she claimed to be at when she was really sleeping over at his? Why was I the person she wanted to take the pregnancy test with when Aunt Flow was late? Why did we spend oodles and oodles of hours up at night dishing about the exciting times between her and Chris?

Well, maybe I shouldn’t say “why” because I wouldn’t take those back, but WHY did she invest so much in me about the man she was going to marry and can’t even remember to let me know about any of her bridal showers? I’m suppose to be an “Honored Guest” at her wedding and yet, she called me three days before Sunday to tell me at 2 p.m. she’s having a lingerie party. I have asked if there’s anything she needs me to help her with. I have begged for her to give me something to do and yet I’m slightly forgotten. What’s worse is she won’t tell me who her bridesmaids are and I know it’s because one of them is another sorority sister, Lesile, whom she wouldn’t even tell the true details of her relationship with until almost six months of them dating.

I don’t get it. I have to be “that” friend, don’t I? The one that bends over backwards to do for them and yet no real depth ensues from that friendship other than the one you can drink or talk with once a month or every other month.

I seem to be that girl who gets those types of friends, invests in them and then realizes the ones I SHOULD have invested in were the ones I put on hold for the ones that just dropped me. Yeah, I seem to be doing it wrong.

In March my best friend from high school, Lisa, got married to a great guy. She and I would meet up several times a month for drinks, dinner and hours and hours of conversation. I actually would talk to her at least once a day about the wedding, her in-laws and such. I thought it was great. Here I was, just moved back to the area and reconnecting with a truly old friend. Yeah, we had some distance between us since our junior year of high school, but we were able to pick up right where left off.

I found myself constantly doing for her and being there for her, when I realized I’m not even in your wedding. Sure, that sounds horribly shallow, but it’s true.

I was talking with her about wedding things and I wasn’t in the wedding. Not stuff like, “oh, that’s going to be a lovely color on the bridesmaids” but “the best party favors to give your guest would be ___ and you should look at ___ to get them and here’s an website you should ___…”. Then, at the wedding, she said “I can’t believe you’re here.” What the fuck, people? Really? What do you mean, you can’t believe I would even come? It was your wedding!

I swear people, I don’t understand. I guess the good thing is, typically, these friends (once married) disappear into whole other world. The single people are no longer the people they talk to and the couples are where it’s at. I guess it works out for me in the end.

I just think it’s funny.

Emotions, You Are Not Real

It seems I’ve completely forgotten that I actually have a blog and truly enjoy the cathartic release once I write down my inner thoughts and daily ramble. Soon, my little children (that was kind of creepy), I shall have my website in working order (that’s if I really sit down and get started) and we will see things start to fly.

In current, Penelope events I have started seeing a therapist. First off, that word makes me giggle. The-Rapist. I’m sorry, but that’s the only way I can make myself remember how to spell it. I’m the world’s worst speller and I have to use things like that to help me out. Also, I’m really, really bad about using the right sounding word in the wrong way. For example: I’ve always used “verses” instead of “versus” until a good friend (Chris) said something. Now, I can assure you I will not make that mistake for that word, but there many other words I have yet had the chance to folly up. Just wait…it will come.

I started seeing my Therapist on Tuesday and will be seeing her bi-monthly because that’s all I can really afford. I knew on our first visit we would not have hit anything but the bases. I came in with a list of things I wanted to accomplish in seeing her. She immediately had me pegged. She called me a “perfectionist” and I thought for a second we were going to brawl. No, I’m only kidding. I’m completely aware I am a perfectionist and am cool with most of it. Funny enough when I was younger people use to say that to me and I never understood why. To me I didn’t seem like one, but as I’ve gone through a few years in my adult life I’ve realized how much of a perfectionist I am. Not OCD, but where’s that line anyways.

One golden nugget she (Karen) said in describing me, “you don’t know the difference between emotion and reality.” So true Karen, I don’t. That’s why I love movies, TV shows and the like because to me it’s real. I hate to say it, because it makes me feel more lame than ever, when I first moved back home from college I would watch “Friends” and actually feel like was among friends. Lame? I would think so. But, that’s the story of how my mind words. I interpret emotions for reality and basically assume if I’m feeling a certain way it’s for a reason. That would completely explain my crazy, albiet slightly manic, behavior when I was stressed or going through the visit of (guys advert eyes here) Aunt Flow. Well, I guess not manic because I was never like that, but you get the idea.

So, for some odd reason, today I feel slightly sad. Not sure why and really shouldn’t care, but my old “this must be reality” stepped in earlier and said “Oh my goodness you’re so sad! You should go home and lay on your couch.” Stupid inner emotion voice. So, in my best efforts I am trying to tell myself it’s not real, which seems to be working quite amazingly.

Another thing Karen said that struck a cord was about me, in being a perfectionist, not knowing how to sit in the waiting. She said as children in our society we’re taught that weakness is derived from waiting and that we should make a decision and make one now. The best, healthy thing we could do is wait and make the appropriate, well tested decision versus (see I told you I would use it right) rushing into one for mere principle. I started thinking about this and realized that right now, in my 20 something body I am in the phase of life that requires sitting in the waiting. How could I possibly know which career would end up being the true passion of my soul and carry me well into my old age unless I wait for all the right things (i.e. career counseling, career researching, entry-level positions). Also, how could I possibly move forward in my effort to find a future mate when I can’t even feel secure in my sexual preference? I am about to hit (or already in) my quarter-life crisis and the main theme of that time line is waiting. You have to wait and I am going to have to deal.

Karen and I talked about healing some old wounds and clearing out all the old baggage I’ve pushed into the dark, locked cellar of my heart labeled “Hopefully It Will All Go Away Some Day”. Soon, I’m sure, I will be blogging about those festering demons and their quick (hopefully) release from my person.

You know, one thing that makes me hesitant on pursuing a counseling relationship with Karen is her way of faith. I’m not going to judge what she believes and say she’s wrong…okay, no that’s exactly what I’m going to do. She said something about “do we honestly believe that God, in all His glory and all present person, makes mistakes?”  She said it in such a way that made me believe she thought He does. I quickly uttered, “No, I believe He does not.” To which she quickly twirled into the fact that we are the ones making the mistakes and how we often interpret God’s voice and direction for what we want. When we do that we get upset when those things do not happen and blame Him because we thought He was the one giving it to us. When I first heard that I thought, “What relief.”

What you must understand, dear reader, I have had a hard time coming to this point of my sexuality and sexual preference. I hit rock bottom of lonely, abandonment in college to which I decided to throw caution, care, plus general wonder if God would be happy with me and had a same-sex relationship. I can remember a couple of firsts and how they happened, but in terms of how I found myself kissing her or wanting to kiss her I can’t even tell you where that came from. It wasn’t like I said to myself, “Hey, you’ve got nothing to do and it could be fun?” I remember wondering how I got there, but that’s it. Next thing I know I’m kissing her and liking it. Too bad the Katy Perry song wasn’t out then.

After that, I always assumed it was a one-time deal that lasted too long and was filled with way too much drama. I thought I would go back to men, find the one I would marry and call it that. So, in stumbling into general attraction, desire and love with my best friend (Amy) was not next on the agenda and heavily fought. I’ve always seen these stages as faults and cracks of my dysfunctional soul. It wasn’t until November of last year that I started to embrace my attraction to both. It wasn’t until this last month I thought I was ready to take the next step and tell my parents. Right now, I can’t honestly say I know what I’m doing, but have always had this sneaking thought, perhaps, I was not completely off course of the path. “The path” meaning God’s direction in my life.

But, now that I start thinking about those words, I hear a different thought all together. What if because I want to be here, I am making myself believe this is where God wants me? I’ve often wondered how I could have really strayed so far from Him (if that’s what this is) when I was trying so badly to meet with Him. I can’t even tell you how many times I found myself face down on the ground in complete faith He was going to take me through this life and release me from that miserable time in college. I mean, what the hell was an optimistic, extrovert, socially friended by nature person doing in a dark corner preferring to be alone?

I know this is deep, but I’ve decided I’m going to really treat this like a diary. This is not a blog about current events or anything that does not pertain to me.

I am yet again divided. Divided in whether or not I’m here because God wants me to be here or if He’s waiting on me to walk away.

I hate saying that on a blog where anyone and their mom can read it because if you’re gay and read that last sentence it would anger you. It would show you yet another reason as to why you shouldn’t believe in God. I hate that, but I can’t pretend to write things that are not real to me in this moment. If you think that and are ready to move on to your next blog to read, then I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is turn someone away from knowing God. It’s just where I’m at right now. Whether that’s right or wrong or even where I’ll be in the next moment, it doesn’t matter.

I’m a believer in Christ and His plan for my life. I believe He’s the one I want telling me where to go and what to do, but what I can not figure out (from Him and NOT the religious right) is how am I doing so far? Perhaps that’s an answer I’ll not know until old age or maybe ever. Maybe I’ll have a clearer understanding of that answer in a couple of weeks, but right now I’m going with trying to take it one day at a time. I’m learning to live a life opposite of my parents and being unafraid of possibilities. I believe God will show me the next step. I’ve made it very clear in my heart, mind, body and soul that God is in control and HE will open my doors. I will not wait in the darkness of my thoughts no more, but take the opportunities He’s given me without reproach.

Today, I realized my emotion of “slightly sad” does not control nor reflect reality. It does not define my person or clarify my crazy, all over the place life. It just makes it easier to pick a song on the iPod or feed the desire to shop more.

More on therapy to come! I’m sure you can’t wait.

Wide Awake

Why am I still awake? It’s two a.m. and I am sitting here, not able to make myself go to bed. It’s like there’s something final or ever changing about laying down. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel sad. I feel like the more I keep moving the more I don’t realize it’s there.

I feel sad about me and Amy. As you know we’ve broken up, dated again and now balance a tight rope between both unsafe territories. Ever since I told my mother I took one step forward in my person, but several steps back in the heart of our relationship. My mother’s words hunt my mind; her disapproval shifts my mindset towards gray. Perhaps I’ve been sitting grey for too long and am finding myself on the verge of black or white? I don’t know…what I do seem to know is I won’t be able to successfully have a lesbian relationship while I live here. With my parents so close, it wouldn’t matter who it is I know I couldn’t do it. I think that’s what saddens me. Here Amy’s out on a Friday night date with the same girl for over the past few weeks and I can’t say nothing. No words form out of the darkened emotions because I know she has to. I know that her moving on is safer than waiting. I know her working on her heart letting go is better for her in the long run. I know all these things so I remain quiet.

My fear is I’ll never know what a success this relationship could have been because I’ll never let my live in it here. Guilt is a very powerful tool used by church, family and self. What should remain between our souls and God has transcended into our everyday lives wrapped in concern and worry.

What I also fear is that this is what we need to do. Walking away from our relationship is for the best, too. What if this is exactly the steps we’re suppose to take and it just hurts?

Division. Seems to be the great divide of my person in about every way. Fortunately for me I start counseling next Tuesday. I’m hoping to organize my thoughts and emotions. I want a non-partial party to help me hear myself, do what I say and generally tell me I’m either crazy or not. I also think I might be mildly either bi-polar or ADD. My brother’s highly ADD and it would just make sense if I were, too.

Blah, blah, blah, blah…shesh, why am I still awake?!

I did manage to clean my apartment, move my desk around and fix some decorative things since my furniture rearranging. Lame on a Friday night, I know, but all my other plans feel through. Well, when I say other plans I really mean people to eat home made pizza with me and watch a movie were not able to come. Oh well.

Part of me wishes she would call. Maybe that’s why I’m still up. Maybe I’m hoping that after a night of drinking and going out she’ll want to talk to me. Last night I joined her in celebrating a mutual friend’s birthday. I was so close to not going because I was a) broke, b) not sure about seeing everyone since our break up on someones birthday c) wasn’t feeling good at all d) nervous about drinking with her. I was rude to her the entire night and constantly pulled out things to bring her down. Why was I being such a bitch? Because I didn’t know how else to be.

When I first saw her I felt a rush. The more our close proximity sank in as we drove there, the more I pulled away. By the end of the night there was lingering touches and silence. I was tired and still not feeling good, but (mainly) I was torn. I wanted her make the move, but was scared to death if she did. Scared because I feel like a relational time bomb – ready to explode, destroy everything around me and walk away. I realize how unfair this is to her. She’s not the one who said in the first place, “it’s over”. She would still be in this if I had never said anything. I just couldn’t go any further with such division in me knowing she was walking with me. It’s one thing to hurt yourself, but a whole other story when someone else’s heart is involved.

No matter what would happen right now, the smart thing is to keep our distance. Tomorrow she and I are going to spend a large part of the day together. I’m hoping the conversation of “us” never comes up or she asks me “how are you doing?” I hate when she asks that. I know she’s really asking, but it always unleashes a mighty wave of emotional verbage that NO ONE should have to hear unless being paid for it. In steps the role of “Therapist”.

Well, I am off to bed. I promise, soon, I will stop writing such drama/emotional blogs. Eh, there’s such a downer. I would much rather share funny stories of my day and what happy things I’m thinking about. Ooohhh, like this one…so there’s this guy at work Krissy and I are trying to figure out is gay or not. It doesn’t really matter because neither of us a) care or b) are interested, but our boss said something one time about how he thought “Sam” was gay. Ever since then we have been trying to figure it out. We’re bad, I know. I’m sure my boss and co-workers are trying to figure the same thing about me, too. Ha!

Actually, I think my boss and reporting manager knows, but I’m not just going to say it. My co-workers, whether they would admit or not, are a bit unsure about the whole “gay” thing. Sure they can respect it and, by law, not make a big deal about it, but I think deep down they don’t agree with it and it creeps them out. Some of them I think really don’t care. Well, I say “some” when really I mean Conni. Also, my boss and I talked about my blog today. He asked me if I blogged and I said “yes”. He said, “would anyone be able to find you?” I quickly told him of my anonymity and that the only way anyone who knew me could find me was if I told them about it. Yeah, I use real first names, but NO ONE has an unusual name to be Google or anything. I highly doubt he would look, but it was funny.

I like pulling them out of their regular world. I like making some of them think about things and consider other options. I’ll never ask them to think like me, but encourage them to be honest by me being honest (minus the whole bi thing). I like them even though they sometimes leave me out of the loop. The way I see it is I’m not going to stay in this career forever and might as well have an effect on people. I’m hoping that if they do find out I’m bi they would be surprised on how they feel about it. I hope they wouldn’t jump to judgement or disgust, but would see I’m a real, God fearing woman just trying to be honest in life while I figure it all out. As long as they see Jesus in me, I really don’t care about the rest.

Are You F-ing Kidding Me?

Okay, I’ve about had it with the way my office currently works. I don’t want to plant bring down my co-workers with bad thoughts, so I’ll type out my frustration here.

First of all, how is a marketing group suppose to work together when there’s division? When we keep things to ourselves and assume no one needs to know? Just ten minutes ago, my reporting manager and co-worker grabbed their purses and left. It’s not lunch time so I can’t say they were just going to lunch together (which is TOTALLY fine by me). I can only assume they had a meeting with someone about something for this department and THAT’s what frustrates me.

Yes, my reporting manager can do what she wants and I don’t have to know anything about it, but when you involve a co-worker of semi-equal status as the rest of us it separates us. You have just successfully told me and Krissy that we’re NOT important. That some how the time we give here in the almost year we’ve worked under your supervision and along side you that we’re just second rank. Last time I check we were a department looking to foster a collective partnership. How in the hell do I want to do that NOW when you’ve skirted around me?

I hate that! Plus, if we’re not invited to participate in the future plans of our printed materials and/or marketing department the least you could have done was say, “hey, we’re going to run to a meeting be back in a couple of hours.” Not just gather your belongings and walk out quietly.

They better be planning some secret surprise party for Krissy and I because it will be the only thing that could make me feel better about the total cold shoulder you just gave us.

I left a job because of that (and a few million other things). I’m quite frustrated to see that happening her, too.

A Few Words of “Thanks”

After a rather emotional day, I am so glad my spirits are still up. Several things make me happy at the moment.

1. All you kind and very positive commenter’s. I really appreciate your words, encouragement and general interest. I hate talking about this stuff and am thankful you still read it and have something to send back.
2. I love, love, love, LOVE Jennifer Saunders. No seriously, I love this woman her comedic ability in the BBC. What started out with “Absolutely Fabulous” has shifted in various things I find amusing. My current love? This video spoof of “Harry Potter”. Please watch if you enjoy BBC humor. Thanks Amy!
3. It’s time to paint the nails. Yes, it’s time to push away the tears and do what I really enjoy about being a girl. The nail color is called “Rock-On Red”, which isn’t red at all. Huh…
4. It’s also time for ice cream. No, not delicious custard from Harry’s, but simple non-fat Dryer’s will do. Add chocolate and caramel, of course.

Thanks again for all the support. I’m glad I’m not babbling to myself.

Things To Know

This “list” am about to rattle off are a few things I think you should know about me right now.

1. It’s funny how I choose to walk this path on my own, abscent of a relationship and yet feel very alone. I wanted to hold back my true feelings these past several days from this blog because I hate those depressing posts where it seem all they can talk about is saddness. Sometimes, though, it’s all you’ve got for the time.
2. I want to cry and cry really hard. I want to have a hard, fast, warm rush of emotions flood through my eyes and be done with it. I want the stains of my childhood heart to mend on their own. I want the broken foot prints I’ve been trying to fill to just fade away, far from me. I want to erase my words and dreams and hopes. I want to start new ones. Ones untainted by society, church, family and bad memories. I wish to push restart on my whole life.
3. I just got a call from my Grandpa about my 3Day adventure. This adventure I am doing for my Grandma, his second wife. She died of breast cancer when I was in the sixth grade. I never went to the funeral. I never saw her die. I never saw where she was buried. I never said “goodbye”. I wanted my Grandpa to call me out. Like he knew I told my mom I was bi and that he was unhappy. He went on with how proud he was of me and how his fondest memory was of me when I was two. “Hair as black as an Ace of Spades,” he said.
4. I haven’t spoken to my parents in several days. I haven’t seen them in three weeks. I need a break from them. I need space from their unspoken thoughts. I need a place to hide from their saddened eyes. Eyes that dig deep into the depths of who I am and pull out the guilt of my heart. Guilt I do not feel, but they make me feel. How, from all the steps I’ve taken, have I ended back at a place where they have control over me? Why do I care? Why does it make it hard for me to swallow their inability to let go. Let me be and just love me. Perhaps, they are, but just not in a way I wish they would.
5. I miss you. Could it be that when I loose you I want you most? Could my brokenness only be comforted by your firm embrace? How did we get here?
6. I don’t want to go into work tomorrow, but fear if I stay home I will only push myself in to the grave of my depression. Funny how I walk away from a serious, tear filled conversation with my close friend, feeling all lost and completely alone and three people talk to me: My grandpa, guy neighbor and friend I met in San Diego. All force me to smile, get out of this insufferable place and remember I AM apart of society with interesting parts to provide those around me. Perhaps, not in this blog, but else where I’m sure.
7. I’m listening to the new Imogen Heap song/remake of her “Hide and Seek”. This song has various feelings associated to it for me. One of my ex and her ex. Second of my own personal dissolve in unwrapping their secret affair. Third in further breaking down of my personal life in general. Fourth the gentle renewal of my love for this song through my current/past love. Fifth, identifier to my present standing with these pathetic emotions that just won’t go away. “Where are we? What the hell is going on? The dust has only just began to fall…” words that make me feel foolish in every way about why I am at this place. How is it that nearly every twenty-something I know it happy, soaking up their youth and thriving in  “the life”? How is it I am sitting here going through the hell of it all? Should I be so happy that perhaps I’m beating them to it and when they’re in their forties wondering “what the hell?” I’ll have already done that and can sweetly wisp by with a smile? Hmm…not sure I’m finding the joy in that right now.
8. I love, love, love my dog, Molly. She’s my sweet little love that wraps me in delight and personal hope. If you live alone, feel sad and wish to pull out of it (even just for a moment) get a dog. Seriously, they’re hard work and not 100% easy, but when you cry or feel sad they will love you regardless how long it took you to get home and take them outside to potty.
9. I want to run away. Yes, I am ten years old and feel that THAT is the best thing I can do right now. Run away from all troubles, problems and people that drive me up walls. I really want to run to Seatle. I love the rain. It puts me in an oddly happy mood.
10. I hope my brain scan results come in soon. I hope that it’s something in my brain that makes me feel this way and all they have to do is flip a switch. Wouldn’t that be lovely?
11. I should go to bed, seeing how I DO have to work tomorrow, but don’t want to. I am now in middle school and finding myself fighting that hard fight to stay up even though I’m horribily drained.
12. I loved high school. Seriously, I was that one kid that LOVED high school. I hated college, but loved high school. Weird, huh? I do like being an adult better (minus the responsibiliies and emotions). I just wish there were more organizations you could sign up for that were fun and involved dances or big parades/pep-rallies. Good times.
13. I wish I hadn’t sold my high school flute. Yes, I was the band dork and loved every minute of it. While you were paying to get into the football games I was playing in them with about 90 other of my friends. I loved it. I love classical music and love where it takes me when I listen to it. It’s like my own little excuse to dream and slip off to a rhelm of make believe/sophisitication. I love hearing all the instruments create a beautiful melody and story. Seriously, I love it; however, I am unable to hear it live for it puts me to sleep. I know, it’s crazy, but because I listen to it as I sleep, when I hear it live I want to fall asleep.
14. I wish I could run again. I also ran track for several years in high school and college, but haven’t loved it the same since. I remember running miles and getting lost in those steps. I didn’t run with an iPod or anything. Just me and God. Now, I’m lucky if I can run a mile and not want to hurt myself so I would stop.
15. Molly is asleep at my feet. Actually, she has her head on my feet. Love it.
16. After you rant and cry a little it does get better. Fortunately I’m highly optimistic and know there’s always a silver lining. Regardless of the pain and hurt, it makes you stronger and more prepared for what’s to come. If I had not gone through the pain and hurt of my last boyfriend I might not be able to be as strong in the break up of my girlfriend. Had I not endured the year and half of painful crap from my last job I wouldn’t have lasted the year in my new one. Pain teaches us things we couldn’t learn without it. I read some where God is not interested in your wants, but in building your character. If I had everything the way I wanted it who and where could I be today? I would say spoiled, unhappy and completely still a child.

Money Is For Fools

Life, God, consequences have a funny way of showing you reality. Truly, you must step back, at the worst of times, and laugh at how miserably funny things are.

For me, I’m broke. I’ve said it before, but this time it’s borderline Ramen Noodles only serious. I have an energy bill that just came to me for $102. Yeah, haven’t paid that kind of bill since I moved out of my parents over a year ago. To make my pennies more pinched I also just got my cell phone bill for $102.

Two record highs requires laughter and the only thing I’ve got left: hope.