against_all_odds

[extramadness]

[kbvstheworld]

[kbvstheworld]

I wonder if people actually knew how many nights I lay in bed sobbing how much they would actually care, fake care, or not care at all.

[kbvstheworld]

Try Harder

I need someone that will try harder. Someone that will fight for me. When it’s getting serious and i start acting out to push them away I need someone to pull me back in and say “I’m here to stay” and mean it.

[kbvstheworld]

Opposite

Going with the flow in certain areas of life can feel impossible with anxiety. With a past of one thing going wrong after another, I like structure and knowing what the plan is. yet, I try to surround myself with people that are always up for a spontaneous adventure, it’s one of my favorite things for someone to say "hey, come on let's go for a drive".​

[kbvstheworld]

Don’t Settle

I used to have this rule for myself, never go back to an ex.  They are an ex for a reason, it didn’t work out for a reason and people don’t change. If they do change it will not happen over night or over a few months’ time.  Apart from there being a significant life-changing event.

It appears at 27 years old I have lost my damn mind. I tried dating someone again that I was with for a whirlwind of a month or so a year ago. Now, he has changed and is better than he was a year ago.  A month into round two though I can see very clearly that we at different places in life, he is still irresponsible and has so many walls up that he plays games with the people close to him.  When he told him himself that he is selective about who he tells things to in order to see what makes it through the grapevine and by whom, I knew.  I knew that he doesn’t trust anyone, including me. I knew that I could never trust someone always wondering what are they leaving out of the story this time. It’s hard to be in love with someone if you can’t trust them. Those go hand and hand.

In the beginning, I did trust him. I believe that trust and respect are standard, it’s up to the other person to either lose it all by their actions, or they can earn more of my trust and respect over time.  Sadly, I’m only human, I told him more than he deserved to know.  He saw me in more vulnerable points than any man other than my father has. That’s my own fault. But my god I am so sick of having walls up with people, I just wanted and needed to let it all out.

My biggest lesson in this isn’t to not go back to an ex.  The lesson is to not give more than I am receiving.  For example, I would word vomit my feelings to him, with an expectation that he would do the same. But he didn’t. He barely validated what I had to say. I was reminded to pay attention to how much interest someone is truly showing in what I am saying, in my life, asks me how something I did earlier in the day went, not just ignore me.

He is at an ultimate low in his life, granted I didn’t just help that but I’m not sure he even gives a shit that I just want to be friends again. To outsiders, it probably looks like I don’t want to date someone that has literally nothing materialistic to offer. It’s the complete opposite though.  I can stand by his side, even without trusting or being in love with him.  I know I could handle whatever else he has coming his way with him, but I know I would spiral down with him.  I’ve made it so far, I will not do that for someone I’m not in love with.  

I will not settle.

[kbvstheworld]

Raw

I have been called many things in my 27 years, but fake has never been one of them.  I am blunt, honest, caring, respectful and have a very minimal filter. However, his doesn’t mean that I never hold back. There is so much of me that I keep myself that no one in this earth knows is ripping me a part day in and day out. People know different depths of how bad my depression and anxiety can be. But not one single person knows all of it.  Because if a single person knew everything…well..I think I would have been committed to a mental facility quite some time ago.

Maybe I should have been more open, but back then I thought I was. I hadn’t let it all surface yet, I was still able to fight it, little did I know how bad it was when I couldn’t keep fighting it.  Maybe I should start to tell someone now. But who can I trust? Who can I be that vulnerable with to completely break down in front of? Who cares? Who has time for me? Will anyone even understand what I try to say? Who won’t judge me? Who won’t overact or make me feel guilty?

…Who actually loves me? …Buehler?....Buehler?

Those are all things that someone who says they love you should be able to accomplish, right? Family has to love you, at least so they say. My family would judge me, make me feel guilty by turning it on to them.  I can’t tell my family because they are the root cause for what I am battling today.  I don’t want to hurt them, but I want them to know how much they damaged me and own it. There’s not really a point to that either though, because as much as I do blame them for the mess I am, I can’t blame them because that’s just who they are and people, they did what they knew how too and people don’t change.

I don’t have many real friends, just the two. And a lot of acquaintances that say they like me and we should hang out, but never do. I wish I had more real friends.

Getting back to the point here. I need someone in my life that I can rely on, that I can lean on, that can and will hold me up without hesitation as I would do for them. I want to break so badly right now. I just want to stop holding back the tears, I want to scream the pain out of my body, I want to be able to say outloud…everything.  All without worrying and precisely deciding what to say or not to say, how to word every phrase.

 Here it is, it will probably come out in a jumbled up mess just like I am right now. Katelyn’s thoughts of recent days…

This pit in my stomach won’t stop, something isn’t right, I can feel it, I can feel it in my gut just this unsatisfied feeling that won’t settle. Something is wrong, something is going to happen if it isn’t already. Did he get back with his ex? Did they talk more than hes saying? Okay he just got a new phone and all apps redownloaded which I think is a lie anyways but why the fuck is Tinder on his phone? That’s how me and him met, what the hell am I doing? Red flag! Red Flag! Nope? Gonna keep being a dumbass? Okay. This won’t end badly…again, or anything. Why are you letting him get away with so much shit that you know isn’t okay? I don’t want to give up on him. But he isn’t even trying for me, I don’t feel wanted, or like he listens when I speak, cares what I have to say. That isn’t all the time but majority that’s how it feels. But he is a very unique person to figure out, which is likely just another reason I’m drawn to him. He’s a challenge. I need to find a new challenge, other than with men. I love a challenge and a goal but god damn, my heart and soul can’t keep taking this beating. At least I didn’t let myself fall in love with him. I mean I do love him, as a friend, as a person I want in my life, but I am not in love with him. At first when I would see him, he would bring this calming effect to me that I have never had before. His smile and laugh put me in awe like no other man’s has before. That’s why I knew I had to be careful with him, because if I fall in love with him it will be so deep that when it isn’t returned, I don’t think I could take that size heartbreak. I’m tired. So fucking tired. I want to just scream all the time, or just curl in a ball and sleep. I just don’t want to deal with reality of life.  Which is why I force myself too because else this is what happens, I sit at home in my own thoughts.  Reminding myself that as so many call me “strong” I am so weak. I am very insecure, I struggle trusting others too much or not enough. I never have a inbetween, it’s always one extreme or the other. Even with myself I can’t win for fucks sake.  I don’t know how to fix the broken pieces of me anymore. I feel like I’ve lost my creativity and my humor comes and goes. I get lost in my own thoughts so fast and so intensely it scares me sometimes. It feels like my mind moves a million miles a minute sometimes because I am always thinking about something and what’s next. I try to just live in the moment, god I really try. I just get distracted easily and worry about everything.  I mostly worry about myself but I don’t want to be selfish like my parents are. I am aware how dramatic that sounds, because well.. yes I can be dramatic. I am dramatic about things because else the true, raw pain might just show.  That’s the first time I’ve ever used the word pain to describe how I feel…but it fits. It hurts in my throat and in my eyes from fighting the tears when it all feels like too much. It aches in my stomach because I know that I have to get help eventually. But I don’t want to forever labeled at “that crazy girl”, I have enough of that as it is I’m the broken one. I don’t know how I’d pay for treatment, how long it would take, what I would do about my job, my family would be in shock, my parents will be so hurt when they find out my reality and that if it wouldn’t be so much backlash, I would cut them out of my life.  My mom would keep it a secret from my grandparents and the rest of my family would say “I didn’t know it was that bad, I thought she was passed this”. Yes, you ask if Im okay, were at a family event, surrounded by people, we barely talk so I don’t have that level of trust in you. I’m not just going to say I’m not okay to you in that situation. You have to build trust with people before they will be honest about how they feel just like in a romantic relationship. So, go ahead preach “remember to check on your people and ask how they are doing” but it’s all bullshit unless you actually fucking care about them, care to listen and actually put in effort. Effort, by god what a god damn concept, care about something? Nurture it!

PS: All of those thoughts where only in about 20 minutes of what I could type.

[thegoodvybe]

[kbvstheworld]

Focus

Just over two years ago I ended the worst relationship of my life, so far. Hopefully, I actually learned from that and I won’t let myself be in that situation again.  I’ve gone back and forth with thinking I’ve mended my soul again enough to put myself back out there, time and time again.  

One of those low times has met me once again.  There’s this feeling inside me that I can’t seem to describe. Half the time I feel the parts that I know of myself; that I am a strong person that’s been through a lot of shit, stubborn, caring, blunt, awkward, intelligent when I apply myself, loving, lover of attention, complicated, have a good heart, overthinker, 

Now the other half of the time.  I noticed that this happens mostly right after someone leaves my home or when I leave someone I enjoy spending time with. This side is a side that I don’t know and I wish would leave. My chest physically feels heavy, my throat tightens, I can’t name what I am feeling other than empty or lonely. When those thoughts actually come through my head I cringe and try to fight them. Then the anger sets in, that I’m fine, I’ve come so far, stop. stop. stop. My chest doesn’t lift, my throat doesn’t open again. 

Not wanting that feeling to come alive again, I have had my streaks with slut phases. Which has only lead to me beating myself up more and getting my heart broken.  I get attached too quickly and sex complicates things.  I’ll have to vent/write about that another time. 

On August first I made the decision to not have sex for at least a month. I need to focus on myself, refind what my true hobbies are, what I actually enjoy...other than sex.  I know who I am at my core but I need to be more. Maybe the missing piece of me is not having a passion or hobby anymore. Find what being happy really is, learning it’s okay to do things by myself. 

[kbvstheworld]

Home

When most people think of home, they think of a home base. A place where everything feels safe, a place you can always go to. I had that in half of my life, the other half I felt like just a guest. 

My mom moved once after the divorce to a duplex where I shared a room with my middle brother, who is 13 years older than myself. Next was the upper duplex closer to my dad's house, my room was small with the slanted ceiling, basically was meant to be for storage. Honestly, I was afraid to sleep in it because it felt like a room for punishment and usually slept in my mom's king bed with her or the couch. Then moved to a place further from my friends and school, a one bedroom loft...her plan was for me to have a hammock as a bed on the bridge leading from the loft room to the balcony. I slept on the 15-year-old couch or the floor. After that, she moved to the town my dad lived in, close to all my friends, by that time I was already done living with her(will explain later).  She got an apartment with two full bedrooms, but “my room” was never really my room. She had most of her stuff in it, still had baby clothes of mine in the closet. Decorated it in a way that wasn’t me at all. My mattress was a futon mattress I brought over from my dad's house.   

I knew what home was for 18 years. My dad’s house was my home. My best friend since I was three lived across the street, she would come and go as it was her own home as well. Majority of the time everyone always came to my house, I often referred to it as everyone’s Switzerland, or safe zone. The set-up was great, it was basically my dad had one side of the house and it was like the other side was to myself and my friends. One summer in high school, one friend basically lived with us to the point of my dad calling her parents to ask for help with food and what not because of how much she was there. 

November of 2009, it all changed. I graduated in June, and November everything I knew for 18 years came crashing down.  The place I knew as home was part of the housing bubble and crash in 2008. My dad got his real estate license right before the crash, didn’t have a steady income for really the 5-7 years before that. I was working for minimum wage at a dry cleaner.  We moved into the lower of a duplex, I hated it, it simply wasn’t home and the resentment for my dad began. We didn’t make it a year before we were evicted because my dad couldn’t pay rent. Still had boxes packed and there we were moving again, this time 45 minutes away from everyone and everything I knew. That didn’t make it a year either. But we had nowhere to go this time, my dad was dad broke, still not a steady job.   

I was 19 and unemployed, started dating someone that lived an hour north, we were only together for four months and I felt as though I had no option but to move in with him at his parent's place. It started as it was only going to be for a month. Within a week of living there, I got a full-time job. Then it turned into two months, by three months my boyfriend and I ended up looking for our own place. January 2011 J and I had our first apartment together. There was no other option. That's when I started to feel stuck in that relationship, not a lot but just enough. 

Fast forward through a bunch of stuff and August 2011, I bought my OWN home. A condo in an area I always liked. Now I do my best to keep it an environment that is welcoming, that feels cozy for anyone that comes in my door... other than Nala being overprotective of our home.  

[kbvstheworld]

Date with A

I am going to post some of my stories of dating in today’s world. I am not going to use names, just first initials.

I am on this app called Whisper, you can post anything amorously. You can look at post’s nearby, you can have private conversations and reply to posts publically.  One day I started talking to a man that was in the same city as myself. Firefighter, similar in age, seemed to keep the conversation going very well.  He sent me a photo at one point, instantly I was like “damn, he is hot! could this be true!?”, After talking for a few hours, he asked about grabbing a drink later that same night at Applebees. I said sure! Through the rest of the day, he kept asking kind of odd sexual type questions. Sadly I am used to that in today’s world, so I brushed it off.

I got to Applebee’s around 7:30, I was 15 minutes early. Five minutes before he was supposed to be there I get a text message of a picture of a very different and older looking man with the caption “do you still want to meet up”, I was pretty upset, obviously. At that point I was already dolled up, sitting there, waiting, this guy can at least buy me a drink or two! I wanted to hear in person, why. Why would someone do this to another person?  He claimed the earlier pictures were really old and he changed a lot. I wasn’t buying it

I was definitely not as attracted to him in person, even the picture he did send me was outdated. It was an okay conversation I guess, not much eye contact, a bit awkward at times. We kissed/made out a bit by our cars in the parking lot. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, he had a tattoo on his right arm. In the picture sent earlier, there was a cross tattoo on the left arm. I mentioned this outside, and he tried to say no no no there was no tattoo. I have had a few drinks, it was late, I didn’t want to deal with this person I now knew nothing about in person.

The next morning I looked back at my messages, took a screenshot of the picture with the cross tattoo, with a message “Next time you plan on lying to someone after they give you multiple chances, to tell the truth, don’t use a picture with a tattoo that you don’t have” I got the “I’m sorry I guess you're, done with me” I said bye then later I get a text “And so you know my dick still gets hard thinking about you”  WHAT!?!? I simply said “I do not need to know that” then I got called a witch, inconsiderate bitch, a lonely loser, and a cunt.  Yet he was the one who lied!!! I told him he was fucked up and to lose my number, then it was done.

His number was on do not disturb, but he still texted me two days later when I thought it was done. Then I got a new friend request on snapchat, it was A... Begging me for his forgiveness, over and over again, not understanding the word no. It ended with me telling him I just hope he learned and doesn’t put another woman.

[kbvstheworld]

Gullible

Growing up I was jokingly always teased about being gullible.  That I would believe almost anything that was told to me. I was also raised, to be honest, I was brought up by around what I thought were all honest people. Now as an adult this is actually a weakness of mine. I am honest and I forget that everyone is not honest in return. For example today I had a suspicion confirmed. 

I dated a man 14 years elder to me, for six months(September 2015-March2017). He told me he was a widowed husband with a teenager. That family friend’s helped a lot with his son. His son wasn’t ready for him to be dating yet. I never met any of his family or friends. We went on dates, he spent the night a few times, we bought each other things randomly. We were a real couple, after a torturous five years with a narcissist, lies or not this man taught me what love is supposed to look like. 

Before I learned that my gut feelings were true. There were things here and there that were red flags, that I ignored. Becuase I trust and believe people are and will be honest with me. We said our final goodbyes in June 2017, We agreed it was too difficult to stay in contact. I did tell him I had suspensions of his wife still being alive, he completely ignored that accusation in the conversation. Which to me if it were true and someone accused you of that, you would be deeply offended.  He always mentioned a family friend of theirs, it wasn’t hard to find her on Facebook. 

Today, I looked at that family friend’s Facebook page. Then there it was, she tagged doing an activity today with my ex's wife’s Facebook page.  The page that I brought up a few times but was told “it’s kept up for family and friends ti still post things when they miss her”, which was a good excuse, I know many people that have done that. 

Here I was again today though, I trusted, I was so open and honest with this man. But I was gullible and even though I saw the red flags, I ignored them, who wouldn’t want to believe that it is still good in this world? We talked about a future together, was gullible to believe I was finally going to have the life I dreamt of with a great man. And today it officially came shattering down on me... I got played. 

[kbvstheworld]

Workplace Words

When you work in a small business that has two women and 16 men, part of the culture is the girls get treated like “one of the guys” quite often. We all give each other shit, usually in good fun. Like many situations, things can quickly go too far. I do the marketing and inside sales for the company. This involves writing a lot of emails and documents for the company. Many of mine typically have spelling and grammatical errors, even with proofreading multiple times. The guys have joked about it majority of the time I have worked there. I can usually deal with it because I don’t want to call out what I have been diagnosed with(see my blog ”Disability”), why would I want my peers to look at me differently? I know they would.   

Last week in an all-staff meeting my manager made a comment about my spelling. I ignored it and brushed it of like always before I could let it eat away at me. Then my other manager came to me a few days later and asked if I was okay and if the guys are being too hard on me. I told her about my past, that yes after awhile it is too much. I would love to not look like an idiot! I can’t help that I don’t know when I spell something wrong, mix up numbers when the grammar is incorrect. 

Bullying isn’t just in school, sometimes it is what seems like innocent jokes.  But remember that you don’t know everyone's story. We all have a past, which usually comes with triggers. At some points at work when it’s already a rough day and a comment gets made I just want to break down. 

**With that if my posts have such errors, feel free to comment on them as long as it is in a respectful manor**

[kbvstheworld]

Disability

To start I’ve always highly disliked the term disability, but my dad used it quite often about me. Starting in 3rd grade I had my first round of testing for a learning disability. Then the extra classes, getting pulled out of classes into the special classrooms started for math, reading, and writing.  In class we would read a chapter of a book out loud, each person in class would read a paragraph. It only took one time of one classmate giggling when I stuttered over a word to build an everlasting fear and anxiety of reading out loud.  At 26 years old, If I have to read something at work, even just a few sentences from an email I get nervous. 

In elementary school, my dad got me enrolled in a special third-party therapy, in Bishop Woods buildings in Elm Grove, I remember because I always dreaded going, they pushed me so much. It was all to help me and was worth it. As a child, I didn't fully understand why I was there. But it was because they saw a hint of dyslexia with words and numbers as well as my struggle to understand math problems. Therapy helped...for a while. 

Middle school there was so much drama between my parents and my friends I don’t think anyone noticed that I still had the same problems. The middle of my sophomore year of high school, my dad noticed again that I was having problems with math...again. I would do fine on the homework, try to study, go in before and after school for help and still fail the tests. After pushing the school district for an extended period of time, I started getting pulled out of classes again to complete another round of IEP testing. All I really remember from the final meeting was being in the conference room at the school surrounded by adults talking about me. Then them saying, “she isn’t skilled in math but as long as she has a calculator, she should be fine”, then “The test’s indicate that Katelyn does show significant results of having short-term memory”. After that the rest kind of went blank. 

I was 15 years old and just got told I have short-term memory. From that point forward I have special paperwork that I need to show the teacher of every math class I take at least, if not every teacher. I did that my Junior year, and the being singled out in class to have more time for a test or go to a different room for a test made me feel so ashamed. Everyone stared at me, I was already an odd and awkward teenager, then lets at this on top. 

Going to college, even if it is “just” community college, at first I showed them the paperwork, reluctantly. I don’t like that it feels like a crutch, I don’t want the special treatment or to be singled out. The teachers would look and talk to me differently. Moving to a different school I didn’t say anything. Now I am in a math class, after my first test I got “the email” from the teacher regarding my bad score. I told him about my past, as I didn’t see I have a choice. I have put in a lot of extra work, as I expected but I know it will be worth it. 

[kbvstheworld]

My Life Summed Up

When people ask a little bit about my story and my life this is usually how it goes...I say quick but it’s really not. 

Well, my mom who was divorced with two boys, met my dad at a funeral. The funeral was for a friend of my dads, and it was my mom’s ex-boyfriend who died of brain and skin cancer. According to my grandma, my mom basically stalked my dad. He gave in apparently because Halloween 1990 this chick was conceived (thanks for that great information, dad). April 21st(??) my parents had a shotgun wedding, due to my mother's parents being Irish Roman Catholic.  July 28th, 1991, their worlds changed, welcoming myself to this world. My first memory is of myself looking into my parent's room as they were just completely screaming at one another. One of my brothers saw me, grabbed my hand, put a jacket on me and said let’s take Bandit for a walk. I was probably three years old. 

September of 1994, my mom filed for divorce.  May of 1995, I was officially part of the broken family club. Dad’s Monday and Tuesday, Mom’s Wednesday and Thursday, switched off every other weekend. 

From there it’s many stories that will be posted separately. Basically...it was a fucking mess. I’m just going to fast forward to after high school. 

When I was 18 years old it was 2009, the recession began.  My dad had already been fighting for the foreclosure for a few years actually.  But November 2009 the home I grew up in, the home friends came to for a safe place...it was all gone. We then moved to a lower duplex, still in Wauwatosa, a year later...evicted. Then to Musekgo we went, a year later...evicted again. This time my dad didn’t have another plan or any money, I was 19, wanting to enjoy life more than working.

We were officially homeless. I was dating someone for four months and had nowhere really to go but then to go stay with him and his family. They live an hour north of everything I knew, my friends, my family, my life. My dad stayed with friends in this time. Me and that boyfriend (whom we will just call “J” as he will come up a lot), got our own place together. 

Fast forward again, 25 years old, was in the relationship with J for five and a half years. November 2014 J and I were engaged. 100 days before the wedding, May 14th, 2016, I was free. I was planning for six months how to get out, I finally allowed myself to see what everyone else did in him, how controlling he was and really that he is a classic narcissist.  

August 2016, I bought a condo! July 2017, I leased my first vehicle!  My childhood friend since I was three moved in with me August 2017.

It is now September 2017 and I have had a year and a half of a dating shit show, I have learned a lot about myself and other people in today’s world. I’m still trying to figure out who I am, which I think will never end. The healing of well...my life...after writing all of this I’ve even more so realized how many wounds, scars, and baggage I have. 

[kbvstheworld]

Intro

I have no idea if anyone will ever read this blog other than myself. But after a deep conversation with my sister in law, and she said: “against all odds, with everything against you, you have made it so incredibly far.” I decided that starting a blog with my story, past, present, and future is a good idea. I can’t afford therapy even with insurance so it will be a place to vent. It will be a place to put stories from my past, I do not have a good memory, so I want a place I can look back at them. The good and the bad ones. 

Really I would love if all of the things I have gone through can help someone. 

-kb