Be Brutally Honest, Was It Better Before Me?

La la la la la, a place for me to rant about bullshit.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Asking yourself what ifs about your past is silly. Don't do it. But I'm gonna do it anyway. Thinking about this sweetheart of boy in Atlanta I didn't get to see things progress with is making me kind of sad. Maybe my memories of him are a lot brighter than they truly were, but this guy was the second guy I met in ATL I thought was stupid cute. He came to a house party we were having. I was more anxious then I am now and I got drunk to take the edge off. He came in with my roommate and clung to the wall, briefly talking to those near him but not many others. I noticed him when he came in, he seemed just as uncomfortable there as I was before I started drinking. My other dumb roommates had this idea to turn out the lights, turn on a strobe light and blare Drake on a fancy stereo they'd borrowed for the night. I cleared out of the room, went to get another drink and headed to my room. At some point my roomie came in and checked on me, asking if I wanted something to eat. I handed her $10 and told her to grab me a burger (or two, I was drunk.) It felt like it took her forever to come back, but when she did, he came in with her and handed me a bag full of food. He slipped the $10 back into my hand and shrugged saying "I got it, it's okay." I'm pretty sure I inhaled what he ordered for me and he hung out with me for the rest of the night, talking. He even slept on the floor next to me that night. I fell asleep talking to him about my favorite book - which I was surprised he'd actually read and enjoyed. Boys that can openly admit to enjoying Pride & Prejudice and can have a conversation about it are a rarity. I knew I liked him after that. But he lived an hour away from our apartment. When he left the next morning I was barely awake - but I forced myself out of bed to say goodbye to him. I knew I wanted to say something, let him know if he came back again, it would be nice to see him. A week or so later, when we were reliving the nights events - getting drunk, having the cops show up cause of a noise complaint + some underage drinking and general drunk kid shenanigans. My roomie told me in this hushed whisper, "Jaime likes you. He talked about you when I drove them home." That had literally never happened to me before so I was a hot ass mess. But that night I told her, "The next time you hear from him, could you do me a favor give him my number?" I think she secretly liked being our matchmaker. She smiled a little too brightly when I nervously told her to give him my number. She was so excited. Not long after that things fell apart for me and I was booted out off campus and out of school. It never came up again. Between my panicked crying at being kicked out of school and my apartment, to filing an appeal to let me stay, to the disciplinary committee that coldly turned me away, it never came up again. I never got to see him again. Me and Gabby were in panic mode, but she would be okay. She had a car and could get back and forth to school if she had to leave. I wouldn't be. I packed, cried, packed some more, called my parents to give them the news, then I really fucking bawled. So much money was spent to drive me there, to pay enrollment fees, my tuition, books and supplies and basics to help me set myself up in my first apartment. Everything was so great for a while. I met a cute boy I clicked with, I liked Gabby (the roommate), I was in a big beautiful city studying something I'd only ever fucking dreamed of. Just as fast as things were built, it came tumbling down before my eyes. I wonder about him sometimes years later. I deleted everyone and got rid of everything that reminded me of Atlanta when I got home. I remember looking him up on Facebook during a moment of weakness via Gabby's profile. But I was so embarrassed by everything that I didn't reach out. What could have happened between us anymore, when I was 3000 miles away? I shut it out. I try not to feel bitterness about everything, but I wonder most of all what could've happened with us? What would I be doing right now if I'd graduated with an animation degree? I had all these big plans. So many plans. All of them dead now.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Things are going well for me at the moment but I’m feeling cautiously optimistic about the future. Too many times have things gone well until the very last minute and then the rug gets pulled from beneath me unexpectedly. I am hoping and wishing so hard that I can make this work. That I can find another steady job, pay my bills, have a reliable car and most importantly be able to go back to school.

Soon I won’t have to worry about my abuelita and scheduling my work, social life and school life around her and her needs. Thankfully my tia Maria is helping me out by taking her on for a while. I’ll miss her of course, even if I’m a little giddy at the prospect of having freedom again.

She’ll be moving in with my tia in a couple weeks so I can start looking for a job. The move is happening a lot sooner than I expected but it's necessary.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

I realized last night after work that I don't have the right temperament to work with high school kids. They're either the best or the pond scum of their generation. And it seems like I have only had the pleasure of meeting and interacting with the pond scum. This past week I've been dealing with a kid who's been bullied, reached her boiling point and blew up. Subsequently, her blow up lead to being suspended while her bullies got off with the weakest slap on the wrist ever. I know all schools have a way to handle these types of situations, but watching this get ignored by staff until the bullying has gotten so bad she felt the need to get physically violent with someone is frustrating beyond belief. It's even more upsetting when people label victims of bullying as dangerous and psychotic when they've really just reached their breaking point. People who've never been bullied don't seem as concerned about the people who are. It's one of those things people say is terrible, but really don't give a shit about when it boils down to it. I work with someone who is this way. She wants to write this poor girl off as a nut job. The girl came to apologize to me today - she threw a tennis ball at a boy bullying her, he dodged it and it hit me instead - and then asked me why she was the only one punished. I couldn't answer that, but I wondered the same thing. I mentioned it to my boss, but she had determined, with the help of students that say they witnessed the entire scene, that they were innocent and she was guilty. But none of these students, my boss or myself knew she had been bullied previously. This isn't the isolated incident my boss thinks it to be. We might not have ever heard of this otherwise, but because this happened and I was hurt instead of a student, she's getting attention paid to her. And I'm glad about that. It needs to be addressed and publicly so the boys who did the bullying will see what ripple effect their words have caused. After all of this, I'm certain I won't be working here anymore. It's too painful to see this happen to this girl and adults, who I had thought to be rational and understanding people, be critical of victims of bullying. I know not all of the teachers and staff are this way, but I can't work with someone who would call this girl crazy and dangerous instead of someone who needs to be helped and protected from vicious little punks.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Recent rather fucking scary events have unfolded with my brother this past week and a switch has been flipped. I feel the need to take care of him in anyway that I can. And for someone who thinks they’re selfish most of the time, I’m kind of surprised how easy it’s been to compartmentalize all of these emotions to get me through.

I’ve never known either of my brothers to struggle with anything. If they’re having a shitty time at work, a relationship isn’t working out anymore, if they’re in a tricky spot with friends — they never let on that it overwhelms them. I always thought, “This is just how the boys operate. Shit happens, they build a bridge and get the fuck over it.” I’m their polar opposite in that regard, or so I thought.

My brother came by the house last week some time early in the morning before my mom was due at the hospital. I hadn’t heard him come in that morning, cause I’m a heavy sleeper once I manage to fall asleep. And to be honest, it’s a rare thing that either of my brothers show up at the house. They avoid it. But Matt showed up and when my dad came back from dropping my mom off at work, he saw him passed out drunk and told me so before heading back to bed. I had a nagging fear that he was showing the signs of alcoholism. It’s gotten to the point where it seems to be all his and my eldest brother’s social life revolves around. I guess that nagging voice in the back of my mind was nagging for a reason.

Along with the alcoholism, he’s been intentionally hurting himself when he hears about the regrettable things he’s done while he’s been blacked out. He’s been suicidal, too. I would have never known this if I hadn’t of seen the posts he’s made on Facebook. One of his statuses from that night/morning said, “If I hang, no one will care.” Matthew’s never spoken this way before, he just didn’t seem “the type”. When I was a teenager I came forward to my parents and friends about having been sexually abused. I had my issues with depression and anxiety after that, of course, but I’d never had thoughts like the ones he’d been having. And that scares me and makes me feel unbelievably sad. Here I was thinking for years that the boys just dealt with heavy shit in a different way than I do, but it wasn’t that. It was just that no one cared to ask before now.

Mental health issues don’t only affect women. They affect everyone, every gender, at any age, to every race/nationality. For way too long have I believed that emotions are only something women “have an issue handling” (goddamn, how brainwashed have I been over the last twenty-three years of my life? To believe so easily that ONLY women are over emotional, weepy creatures with a whole mess of mental issues simply because we have vaginas)

Luckily after living life on this planet long enough and learning not to give a shit about the stigmas attached to seeking therapy, I gave my brother the phone number of my therapist, who he’s seen a handful of times for what then seemed to be anger issues. And thankfully, my dad even did his bit to help him out and found the number of an addiction specialist that will be able to help him start his road to recovery.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

I think it finally happened. I didn't think it ever would but a misunderstanding between us lead to drama that I refuse to buy into any longer. I apologized for offending her and she's still not speaking to me. Boom, end of discussion and of our tired friendship.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. I've been wanting to end this relationship between us for a while and the resentment was just getting so fucking tiring. I can't be friends with someone I feel so irritated with all the time.

Our lives are just too different and I can't understand and try as I might to empathize, I can't do that either. It just doesn't make any sense to me. I know my friendships aren't supposed to be so tiring! And most of mine are not like that at all. Things are so much easier when you don't secretly resent them to the core. That was the most tense relationship I've ever been a part of and my own self guilt was the reason why it continued for so long when I knew it would have been easier to just ignore her until she stopped trying to communicate with me.

But I didn't want things to end that way. And I didn't have it in me to tell her straight up that this wasn't a friendship I'm getting anything from anymore.

At least this way it ended she had her reason to hate me or be mad at me. I think bit may make it easier on her if she can blame me and not herself. I guess she has enough to hate herself for. It's okay for this ended relationship to fall on me. I don't feel the pressure of it at all anymore because I wasn't fighting to keep it.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

A happy sigh of relief will leave my lips when you disappear from my life altogether. Jesus Christ, you don't EVEN understand.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Life goes on and gets better, then it gets worse.

But it goes on nonetheless.

Since my last post I’ve gone out with a guy I thought would lead to a pretty awesome relationship... It didn't. But that's another story for another post!

I’ve started back at work and decided I can’t go back to school just yet. My new responsibilities with my grandma are a bit more than I thought they would be and my good for nothing brothers have decided to leave all the responsibility on my shoulders. Might I add that I am the youngest, I’m underemployed and I was trying to go back to school this semester. That’s where life went and got worse. But I am lucky that I still have a job and supportive people that want nothing more than for me to be happy. And yes, that includes kicking my ass about going back to school even when it’s impossible to go back (like right now). 

I’m still really down about not being able to go back to school because this going back business isn’t a few days worth of work and continued communication between a few people. I’ve been doing this for 6 months at least. And I had to send an email to my admissions director and financial aid counselor thanking them but declining their financial aid award letter for me to go to school at the end of the month in a few weeks.

My parents want me to go back, my dad told me repeatedly to just go ahead and agree to a full 12 hour course load at school. But there is absolutely no one to care for my grandma during the day. Except me. Everyone in my family is well aware of this but I have no one helping me out. It’s disappointing and incredibly upsetting for me. Those 6 months of waiting on phone calls back, of setting up phone meetings so I could take care of my business for classes while I was still here to take care of my grandma were for nothing. Now I’m thinking I’ll have to figure out when I can take night classes on certain nights of the week when I’m not needed at work til 7PM. I’m stressing out about it all but at least night school is still a conceivable option. It’s just going to be a longer day. Sigh. But I need to do something. I’m already worn out from these new responsibilities and my job on top of that in the evenings but what other choices have I at this moment? Nothing’s really jumping out at me right now, unfortunately. But I’m upset still, so I might not be thinking clearly.

It sucks to have this dropped into my lap, the new family duties with my grandma but I don’t blame her for what’s happening. It’s hard not to blame my brothers for being selfish and inconsiderate of the life that I’m trying to live too. One of my friends and I (tried) discussing what I should do last night but all she does is tell me how unimportant college is, that no one she knows has graduated from college but they find ways to be happy, or that I’m making a bigger deal out of the necessity of an education than I should be. But my thing is that she’s ill and has been her entire life. She’s given up the dream of graduating and chasing her dream job. I haven’t. I’m not sick or disabled or forced to be wholly dependent of my family or my boyfriend. I have options that she doesn’t and I try to say that with as much empathy as I’m capable of… but after hearing for months at a time that school doesn’t mean shit from her is so fucking frustrating.

I keep telling myself to not tell her shit about my future plans because I know it makes her mad that her body won’t cooperate for her to attend even one class without having to take the rest of the week to recuperate from one days’ activities. I can’t fully understand what she’s going through, of course. But neither can she see how it makes me feel like I’m a dick because I’m telling myself, “I’m not sick, paralyzed or disabled, nothing should be keeping me from my dream.”

But she’s a close friend. Or she was a long time ago and sometimes I want to get some things off my chest just like anyone else would. I thought that’s what friends were for, to help you out and build you back up when life and even you have torn yourself down in a bad moment. But she doesn’t. :( For a while I have seriously considered dropping her as a friend, but time and history we have together makes me re-think that decision. But sometimes, like yesterday, I think I had the right idea the first time. Our lives are so different and from my side of things; I think she has it easier than I do. 

She doesn’t live at home. She lives with her boyfriend who supports her financially. She doesn’t work because every year or two her disease flares up and she can’t walk, much less stand for 8 hours a day. She spends her days sleeping, crocheting, eating and playing video games. Of course it’s easy to get in the mindset that she does nothing with herself when she’s alone. It’s sad to think about, really. I feel bad for her because she wanted to work and feels like… she’s going to wear out her welcome and he’s going to get burned out of being with her and she’ll be at the mercy of her family (who she doesn’t really like or get along with). She’s in a shit situation even if from my perspective she has the good life.

I feel like I do nothing but struggle to successfully get my ass back to school.

I constantly feel like I’m moments away from snapping at her and telling her she doesn’t understand what I’m going through because she constantly tells me that there’s more to having a life beyond working. But I don’t understand how anyone can say that to me. I think you NEED the job to have the life you want. I want better. I want the best. I want to not live in this city with any boy no matter how awesome he might be. I want to be able to travel, to see different parts of this beautiful planet we live on. I want more than to settle down in a small town before I’ve even seen 2% of this world. 

You only live once (oh God, no I didn’t). Why settle for the basic package life has to offer you? I want that premium package with the key to the mini bar! Dumb analogy, I know. But I do want so much more than this. She doesn’t feel that way anymore. I still have this naive hope and dream that my life will be tons better than the lives of my parents. I want their home to be theirs, but not mine. 

I want to leave Kansas City.

I want to see all the Coheed shows.

I want to meet more interesting people who have experienced things I haven’t.

I want to live in a beautiful apartment with my best friend.

I want to meet that cute guy who has ambitions, a dry sense of humor, a laugh that makes my heart feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest whenever I hear it. I want to marry the man who makes me feel that.

I want to have my kids grow up in a neighborhood that they aren’t scared to go trick or treating in. A neighborhood with great schools, a school they can excel at while being challenged daily.

I guess I just want that American Dream with all the nice bells and whistles. The family; the loving husband, the beautiful little babies, the house, the car… shit, while we’re at it, give me the well-manicured lawn, too, damn it!

It would make me happy to know that I could leave this place behind and not be a stereotypical college dropout who amounts to nothing. Maybe it’s asking too much but I’m not asking anyone to hand me those things. I want to go out get and get MYSELF everything I need and want. I want happiness. And I think college is directly linked to that.

Financial stability is one of the most important things there is. I want that part first, then the rest can come with time, naturally. :)

I guess I just wish people would be more supportive of my dreams and life goals than this particular friend and my family is being right now. I understand that my family are stuck for the time being. I’m the best option at this point in time, but I don’t aim to be the perfect daughter and caregiver for the rest of my life. At some point I’ll need my life back to do these things and earn myself all those wonderful things.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

About a month and a half ago my mom got a frantic call from her sister in Mexico. My abuelita had fallen in the bathroom in the middle of the night and had injured herself so badly that she couldn't walk. At the time we were scared that she would never regain the ability to walk again. My abuelita is in her late 80s and as expected for someone her age, being able to move around easily at all is a blessing.

My abuela's also deaf and mute with no formal training whatsoever in signing, so it's really difficult to explain to her what happened and how it effected her body. For about 4 weeks after she sustained her injuries, with several visits to the doctors in Morelia, she was able to slowly regain her ability to walk. Now she walks using a walker and if she gets too tired of walking, my tia bought her a wheelchair that was originally intended for the use of my tio who's been paralyzed from the waist down since he was in his early teens. 

My tia Esperanza has been taking care of my abuelita and my tio Arturo primarily for most of her adult life. She's the only sibling of my mom's that still lives in Mexico. My other tia and tio live in the US too, so the responsibility has fallen to her shoulders for a very long time. Before my abuelito passed away in 2007, she cared for him as well and had even less time to dedicate to her own family - a husband, two daughters and two grandson's live in Mexico currently. It's a lot of work for one person to do. Take care of a deaf/mute elderly woman and a paralyzed older brother. My tia's no complainer by any means and has been doing the work of 2 and 3 people for years but after lots of consideration and arguments about it; my mom and tia Esperanza have decided to move my abuelita here to live with us for a while.

It's pretty damn clear that my tia needs some time to her own family and some time with her husband. One person shouldn't have all of the responsibility handed over to them, just because they were the only one left to do it. It's not fair. My mom is a few years older than my tia Esperanza is but my mom also has a lot more help than my tia did. With an entire family still living with our parents - my two brothers and I, plus my dad, cousin and tia Maria - I think we're better equipped to help out and make sure my abuelita has all the things she needs.

Last week, they arrived together from Mexico with my cousin and tia. My abuelita couldn't very well travel alone and they knew that, but they also knew it would be difficult to get my abuela here without some sort of help. My tia is the only child she's been around for at least 3 years, and she is who my abuela trusts the most. Understandable, right? Of course it is.

I'm thinking of it selfishly even though I told myself that this was what was happening and that I need to get my shit together and focus on what's needed, not on how worried or anxious this change in my life is going to impact what I do in the fall regarding school, my assignments and working - as well as watching and caring for my abuelita during the day while my mom and everyone else is at work.

We're not a wealthy family, not even a middle class family. We're pretty poor, I'd say. So getting someone hired to care for her during the day is out of the question. Even if we could hire someone with a collective nurse fund or something, they would be completely lost on how to communicate with her and my abuelita would be distrustful of them. Every now and then she asks my tia or my mom who my brothers, my dad and I are because she forgets. She hasn't seen my brothers or I in 12 or 13 years so it's understandable that she has forgotten my face.

Because it's changed within that time. And she has never met my father before this. She's never visited (her husband forbade it while he was alive and because of it she's never pushed the matter further). My parents have been married for 25 years and she's never met him. He might as well be a stranger to her.

My fear is that we're all strangers to her and at the first sign of confusion from her, I'm gonna fall apart. My abuela asked about my tia when she woke up from one the shortest of cat naps the other day and when I didn't understand her, I panicked and called my mom who was in the kitchen with my tia cooking dinner. It freaks me out to think that I'm gonna be unable to understand her signing to me and that I'm going to royally fuck up and she's going to get pissed off with me. I've never done this full time before, I've helped out the elderly before when I worked for a year in a nursing home but I always had help that wasn't very far away. And I never had to learn a new language to communicate with them.

I don't know what to expect on day one and I don't know how my mom is going to handle knowing that I'm the only one at home with her. It's scary. I keep thinking about the awkward and uncomfortable feeling I'm going to be stuck feeling for the next 6 months when I don't know what the fuck to do or who to ask about it. I'm just really scared of messing this up and watching my grandma's face twist up in anger and frustration. 

My mom told me a story the other night at dinner after which she told me to shut up before I make my tia feel bad and worry about leaving her here. My mom grew up for a short 3 years in an orphanage because my abuelos were so poor that they couldn't afford to feed their 5 kids. Two of the girls were sent away to live with one of my abuela's sisters who was a nun at the orphanage. When their time had come to go back to their home with their parents, they didn't understand why they were being punished -- they didn't even think they had parents because the other girls at the orphanage were really orphaned children.   

When they moved back in with their parents my mom couldn't understand anything my abuela would tell her and on several occasions she would make my mom feel stupid because she couldn't grasp what she was saying. It wasn't like my abuelita tried to do that on purpose or anything, but when signing is your only method of communication with your kids, you would obviously feel very frustrated when they got lost. 

Through all this orphanage business, my tia Esperanza stayed with my abuelos because she was too young to leave the house. My tia Esperanza understood my grandma and would translate and teach my mom what she was saying and little by little she got better and better at it and the confusion and crying stopped. 

That story didn't help, no matter what my mom thinks. It makes me feel worse. It shouldn't be so scary but it is. I don't want to think of my abuelita's living here as a challenge only for me, because I know better than that. It's going to be a challenge for everyone, an adjustment that we all have to make together for my abuela's and my tia's sake. She above all, deserves this break from caring from her. The responsibility she's taken on for years and years of her life has worn her down so much. I just hope we can do as good a job with caring for her as my tia has for all these years.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Whoa. Haven’t written anything here in what feels like forever, but I know it’s really only been a few months, but that can only be a good thing. Seeing as how this blog became a way of getting things off my chest with how badly things ended between my ex-boyfriend and I. I guess that suggests that I don’t need that outlet anymore because it’s not something I spend time thinking of anymore. I’m still not ready to wish him the best and hope for good things to happen to him. But that’s really just because he told me his family had a big part in the reason we broke up. I mean… come on. Are you or aren’t you a 25 year old man who is capable of doing what he wants? I guess he wasn’t. And there is something so pathetic about that. Since we’ve broken up, I’ve landed a new job, have begun seeing a therapist (well, I was until it started to get really snowy around town and I didn’t want to make the hour long trek on the bus in the snow filled wonderland that is Kansas City to see her. I need to make plans to go see her now that the weather has warmed up and the ice and snow is done with.), and met a new guy. Holla. And an odd coincidence is that this guy’s name is also my ex-boyfriend’s name. I’m not quite sure what this means, a friend of mine told me to steer clear of guys with this name because her ex-husband was named the same and then I realized that my dad’s biological father whom I have met maybe twice in my life is also named that. One really fucking weird coincidence is just getting weirder and weirder. But what does this coincidence even mean? Should I stay away from all guys named Phillip from now on or should I ignore it but keep my wits about me this time?  I think I’m going to go with the latter choice and just chill. Not try to move things any faster than they are actually moving and not flip out over the small things. I was dating my ex for about four months before he showed me the engagement ring he had bought his ex-girlfriend he was recently engaged to before he had met me and started dating me. Talk about dumb shit you should never do to a new girlfriend. I hope he’s at least wised up enough to know better than to show future girlfriends a engagement ring he’s still holding on to, still paying off (!!!!), reminding him constantly that this woman cheat on him repeatedly and treated his ass like hot garbage.  Just… typing that blows my mind. Who the fuck does that? In that situation, wouldn’t you think he wouldn’t want to have the reminder tucked away behind a bookshelf for months upon months? I damn sure wouldn’t want that to be sitting there day after day, waiting on me to figure out what to do to get rid of the thing. Get it appraised and pawn that shit off. But what am I saying? He was an idiot for keeping it, and he was an even bigger fucking moron for thinking it was a-okay to show me it.  What was I supposed to do? Try it on? Compliment him on having good taste? The fuck, man. But that isn’t even the whopper of a bad decision he made that day. He later told me, “If we make it to two years, you should expect a proposal.” WHAT THE FUCK, THOUGH? How was I supposed to take that? Oh, yes! Just two years and I’ll be safe from this difficult life of single-ness! Pfft. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe he said those words to me at all. So much stupidity and craziness went into that thought. What a terrible human being. No consideration at all for how that act of showing me her engagement ring made me feel, nothing at all. Boggles my motherfucking mind to think back on that. Sigh.  Anyway. Moving on! Today at work (which also happens to be the Catholic high school which I graduated from 3 years ago) I saw three of my classmates from the graduating class of 2010. One of which was this guy I had all the warm and fuzzy feels for when we were in high school. Seeing him still does that stupid thing in my general chest region. Weird how time does nothing to stop that feeling from popping back up when I see him again. I haven’t seen him in more than a year. He went off to basic training shortly after my birthday last year and even though he’s been back into town for Christmas, he was only given leave for a week and I didn’t know about that. I missed seeing him then. And now he’s back and like a good boy, he told me within minutes of seeing me that he was only here until the 21st and that we needed to talk and grab drinks together before then. And then he also told me he’s going to be deployed to Afganistan when he heads back to the Airforce base in Texas he’s been stationed at for the past year. It’s crazy how a year passed like that and I didn’t think about him until I saw him today. I’m excited to hear about how basic treated him, who he met while he was stationed in Texas and when he’s scheduled to deploy overseas. I know it’s supposed to be all hunky-dory over in the Middle East now, but as soon as he said Afganistan I felt a little panicked. I don’t want to think of this gorgeous guy getting himself injured in any way while he’s there. I guess all that I have left to do is tell him to be careful and keep him in my thoughts and prayers. It’s just so scary to think of this country where war has been ceaseless for more than a decade and think to myself that it’s all going to be fine for him. I can’t imagine how he broke the news to his mother and family, I can’t even imagine how she must feel, how his sisters must feel. Knowing that he’s going and there’s nothing they can do to stop it or change his location. I’m just worried about him. Another one of the guys that I saw at work today is one of his best friends and he’s joining the Army pretty soon. Headed off to basic training in June but there’s no news about where he’s to be stationed after he finishes. I’m proud of them both for taking that step, but it’s just frightening. All I can do is pray that God keeps a watchful eye on them and lets them make it through whatever they’re faced with in the coming months, or in Robert’s case, years. He signed up for 4 years,I think that’s the minimum time he could have signed on for. As much as I don’t want to think about it, I’m thinking about it! I hope we can get some time alone and get to grab some drinks together before he gets too busy with other friends and family commitments.  But thankfully, my other friends from school are due back in KC soon! One of my best friends going to school in Connecticut is due back at the end of the week and my friends in school in Chicago and Columbia are probably going to be back fairly soon as well, and nearly all of them are 21+ now. I think Maureen still has a month or so before she’s legal but I’m still excited about that. More so than I ever was when I turned 21… because I turned 21 a year before they did. It’s not fun to be the one who has to supply the alcohol, dude. At least it wasn’t for me. -__________-

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

They say hindsight is 20/20 and goddamn do I see that now.

I'm having the hardest time not beating myself up for not seeing or wanting to notice things that were amiss in my relationship and the things I allowed others to say about me without standing up for myself.

Once the subject of my weight came up with my ex-boyfriend and I remember feeling really self-conscious because I was bigger than him in every sense of the word. I was taller and I weighed more than he did. I asked him how he felt about our differences in size and he kind of laughed it off and then when I asked again for a more serious answer he said, "It can be a little off-putting." 

At the time I was surprised that he had even said that but I was able to be distracted by some video game we were playing or some movie we were going to watch for long enough for his words to be buried somewhere in the back of my mind. I didn't process it.

Now that I look back on that it's a huge slap in the face. At the time I thought he was trying to be kind by saying something so seemingly cautious for fear of hurting my feelings. But that's bullshit. It's an insult, no matter how he phrased it. By saying my weight was putting him off, it meant that in some way, at some point in time it effected what he thought of me and I didn't fit into his ideal of what beauty is. 

And you know at some point in a relationship you're so silly in love that you are able to say that everything about them is perfect and that you see absolutely nothing wrong with them, but that didn't exist in that relationship -- although he tried to convince me otherwise. 

The only reason I decided to write about it was because he claimed to be against body shaming (and slut shaming, etc) and I can see now that he only pretended to be that way so he could appear to be the "good" guy who throws off the societal pressures to idealize one particular body type over any others. 

At one point in our relationship I even asked him if he was with me to prove a point to someone, to tell his family or his friends  no wait, he didn't have any friends. I thought he was trying to prove to his brother(s) that he was above the pressure to be with someone different, someone who didn't fit the mold. And his answer to that was, "If I was trying to do that, I've proved that a long time ago. If I just wanted to do that, I wouldn't be with you now." (That response is still pretty shit. He's not very good at this, is he?) 

While I'm writing this, I'm listening to Coheed's The Afterman: Ascension and Goodnight, Fair Lady just ended. The lyric, "Oh, don't believe everything you hear..." is very poignant in this moment. 

People will always try to say things that make them out to be better people than they really and truly are. But just because they say something that makes them sound better, doesn't necessarily mean they are better people than you and I. 

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

I'm over it, man.

I forgot to mention that I started my job last week! I'm working at a high school that I graduated from a couple years ago. A lot of my friends from high school that I'm still in contact with think it's funny that I'm back there. So many things have changed since I graduated and it's like the building, the faculty and the student body is entirely different and new.

It makes me feel old to think that I'm going to be introduced and addressed by my last name now by a bunch of 14-18 year old people. I never thought about it until I met about a third of the student body on Thursday.There's nothing quite like meeting 140 kids when you didn't expect it.

These kids seem a lot 'better' than anyone I knew when I was in school was. I didn't know young people were capable of being so polite. I know friends my age who forget their please and thank you's, so it takes me by surprise when someone a lot younger than me does it consistently.

It's a bit awkward because I know a few kids' brothers and sisters. At least two kids there are little brothers of my best girlfriends so they know me a bit better than the others do. I've still got to meet with a few of the new teachers and administrative staff next week. Monday I have an appointment to meet with the president of the school. I've heard scary rumors about the woman so I'm a little intimidated to meet her, but a couple people have given me advice of how to "handle" her. I think it'll all work out.

And then I'm signing up for classes at a community college just to get back into it. I've been out of school for nearly a year and that's insane to me. A big group of my friends from school are at the community college I'm looking at and I don't really know how I'm gonna handle that. At Rockhurst I knew a couple kids but I had maybe two classes with them my first semester and after that I never saw them so it was like they weren't there anymore. It makes things a bit easier on me to be around people I'm already familiar with. Cause I suck at making friends.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Ow. After a nice little night out with my friend I come home to see his relationship status has changed. I'm just like, Damn. That was fast, sir.

Nothing else could help me move on more than this news.

Although, my first instinct was to creep and he's changed his privacy settings so I can't see any of the things he posts, so I dunno why his relationship status popped up for me. But dang. I won't be the bitter and jealous ex, because that just makes a bitch look crazy. I'm just not willing to make myself seem that way. It's not worth the embarrassment of becoming one of "those" girls.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

I got my things back from him today. Woo!

It was a really good thing that I got to see my therapist beforehand. If I hadn't of seen her I think I would have felt a lot more anxious about it. It was really quick and easy, I didn't even have to worry about carrying on awkward small talk between me and any of his family or him. I just said thanks and bye as I left. I was polite. So was he.

I was really worried he'd hand off my things to his mom or something instead of doing this himself, but he didn't. Is it weird to be proud of him for that? XD I know a couple months ago that's something he definitely would have done to avoid feeling anxiety. When I came home, of course, my mom asked how he looked and to be perfectly honest I don't even know. I didn't stand there and study his face or anything like that. I didn't linger and I don't even remember what he was wearing. Nothing and I know I really don't want to cling to this memory of him. I want this part to be over and now it is.

I won't lie and say that was the easiest thing I've ever done, but it was a lot easier than I had imagined it would be. After my mom asked me about how it went and everything I disappeared into my room and took a nap. I guess even that wore me out. There's no feelings of sadness though, which is good! And hopefully now there won't be that anxious feeling when I walk around his neighborhood on my way to my therapists' office. I was worried that he'd see me one day and that we'd have to wave awkwardly to one another. Bleh. No thanks.

The more I've thought about it, the less likely it seems that I'll be able to be friends with him. I'd really love to but I mean, how do I get over the I've seen you naked thing? And the we've had sexy times thing? How do you return to being friends after you've seen someone naked? Shit is just weird. I'm awkward enough already. If there was a way for me to wipe those memory from my mind, we'd be good to go. But my life isn't like The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and there's no medical equipment that can do such a thing. Yet.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Thinking about finally asking for my things back. A few days after we broke up, I texted his mom and asked her to hold onto my things for me (i.e., hide them from him so it wouldn't be a constant reminder). But since then my phone's been turned off and I feel weird about contacting him via email, that seems so... formal. I could always say something on tumblr or Facebook, even. But I know he doesn't use it very often and if I wanted to hear back from him there... it might not happen until the New Year.

One of my best friend thinks I should contact his mom again, get her to meet me at their house sometime and pick my things up. But I don't have my phone anymore and I don't want to think of how awkward it would be to call her out of the blue from another number. My mom thinks I should either chalk it up to a loss and not concern myself with it any longer, or ask my dad to go by his parents' house and get my things for me. But of course I'm hard-headed and want to do things how I want to do them. I don't want to have to tip-toe around this last thing and the possibility of seeing him by having others do what I should be doing myself.

I'm leaning towards sending him a message on tumblr and hoping he can just drop them off for me at my house. Am I silly in my reasoning though? He broke up with me which means he should have to suffer from the awkwardness that is seeing me and possibly my family again. I shouldn't have to deal with that. Well, I don't want to. :|

But I want to get this over with already. I know his mom liked me well enough but I don't want any of his family thinking that I left my things there so I could have some excuse of going over there again. I want that to be over and done with. If I had my phone it would be a lot easier to get this done but now that I have all these options of how to contact him I'm unsure which is best.

Is there some ranking of least uncomfortable ways of communicating with an ex?

A phone call is out of the question cause it'll only cause me anxiety, texting isn't going to happen, I can't email him or FB message him because his anxiety keeps him from checking either of those often.

Bah, even after all this time I'm wracking my brain for which is 'best' or more convenient for someone else, when I should be thinking about doing whatever the hell is best and most convenient for me. I want to finish this before the weather starts to be a determining factor in whether or not I get my things back and it might ice/rain/snow before Christmas and this certainly can't be carried over until then.

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Therapy and Clubbing. Yikes.

I had my first session with my therapist today and I got really nervous sometime last night just thinking about what it was going to be like. I had all these preconceived notions about how this whole thing works and I was so wrong.

Leslie keeps telling me she's done this for 37 years and I just know there's no way she won't help me in some way. I thought it would be one of those scenarios where the therapist sits there, listens to you blab on and on and just nods and asks questions like, "And how did that make you feel?"

But I didn't hear that shit once today. There was no pressure to say something or answer a question that stumped me. But now I have a sort of homework assignment from her. I have a feeling by the end of this I'll have a ton of "self-help" type books. I've never taken them seriously, but apparently they can be useful. We'll see what happens there. So far she's given me a couple books to search for. My next appointment with her is next Friday.

There are a lot of things I need to get off my chest and this seems to be the best way to do that without upsetting any of my family or friends by venting to them, or even this blog about it.

A few days ago I got a call from one of my best friends who tends to disappear and do her own thing for a while before she reappears and we fall back into our relationship. She's really been trying to kick my ass and get me to be social and I agreed to go out and get drinks with her next weekend. It kind of makes me nervous to have done so because this woman takes it seriously and I'm the most chill person ever when it comes to going out. Jeans, a cute top, a sweater and flats is it for me. With her, it's a completely different ball game.

SO much fucking effort gets put into the days I go out with her. It might take us 3-4 to get ready together and that's insane to me.

Guys complain about how it takes some women forever to figure out what to wear and what to do to their hair and all that but me? I am not one of those women. Not at all. Minimal effort works for me. Because I don't go out hoping to get all this (unwanted) attention. My friend eats that shit up, but that shit just makes me such an awkward turtle.

It's not my thing. I can appreciate a good conversation about nerdy things in a quiet setting, I'm not in favor of a nearly deafening bar or club with terrible top 40 radio or ridiculous dubstep bullshit blaring from their speakers. And random guys groping at women who walk in front of them. There are far better ways of meeting people than these dark, loud, douche-filled clubs and bars. But hey, I have a couple of dresses hanging out in the back of my closet that should see the light of day...or the strobe lights of a club soon before... I don't know, moths destroy it or something.

 Grrrr. I might have the clothes to wear out but I don't have the damn shoes for it. The majority of my shoe collection is in storage in Georgia still. >_<

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

Progress;

I've made some.

I've stopped keeping track of how long it's been since we broke up, I've deleted his pictures and our old texts and I haven't tried to contact him since his birthday. But I can't stop thinking about him just as I fall asleep - maybe that one will take a while to fade. It's silly shit that I think about too, I'm no longer concerned about his schedule and where and whom he's with anymore. It's just stuff like, "I bet he would appreciate this Batman post I came across today." or "D'aw, he was such a nerd about this show/band/game/etc."

And of course my dumb ass thinks about whether or not he misses me - but less so now. I started watching How I Met Your Mother from the very first season a few days ago and it opened my eyes a bit. I'm young as hell and I'm becoming one of these brainwashed people who thinks they could possibly be defined by their romantic relationships. That's such bullshit.

And I'm an idiot if I ever made myself think differently. I'm not defined by the boy I date or by my sexual experiences. I'm defined by the decisions I make and how I act. HIMYM is all about Ted finding his The One and I am way too young to be so incredibly fixated on that. My love life is just an aspect of my life, it's not my entire life. I guess I got carried away with that idea because so little is going on in my life aside from that. That's depressing! My life went from being about family, friends, education and work to being about my boyfriend entirely. I became the thing I swore I would never become and part of me wants to scold that part of me that made me think it was such an awful thing to become.

I keep expecting so much of myself that when I slip up and make a mistake it's like the most devastating decision I could have made. I beat myself up more for having made him such a high priority than any other decisions I've made before. Granted, I don't make too many bad decisions like that so when I do screw things up and screw myself over in such an emotionally crushing way, of course I get upset and don't want to relive that shit. It makes sense but I wish I weren't so tough on myself for learning this shit.

If I hadn't of done any of the things I did with him, I wouldn't have learned anything from it. It's insane that I think to myself that I am kind of grateful that he was part of my life when he was and as he is now. Some lessons just can't be learned from hearing horror stories from your girls, as much as I wish their lessons could have rubbed off on my mind; they can't.

It's too early (still) to want to pursue something else, but I guess do get lonely and start to miss hanging out with him. Tumblr is the worst fucking place when you feel a tad bit lonesome. It makes it that much worse to see all these long distance tumblr couples and coupley and lovey posts all over my dashboard. But you know, at least someone, somewhere is happy and in love.

Love is a beautiful thing and it feels amazing. If anyone feels that way, who the hell am I to glare at them for being happy. More power to the couples who make it through the summer together.

The idea of getting back with him is farther from my mind than it's been in a few weeks. I guess time does heal all wounds, even if it's only been errrm however many weeks it's been! I already feel like that's just not a realistic thing to want. Of course, two days after the break up I wanted to fix things. But nearly two months later? Nah. I miss him, sure but I feel like an asshole now for admitting that I really only miss him because I missed having someone to go do things with.

How can I say that and not seem like an asshole? When it comes down to it this is what loneliness is like to me -- when it comes to missing that type of companionship. I just don't have someone who will do things with me.

Which makes me just want to find more people to hang out with. I need more friends in my life. Anti-social behaviors kind of make that difficult to achieve. But dammit, if I want it and it's the way to fix this: That's what I need to do.

ALSO.

I took the advice from a few different people who have hinted at speaking to a therapist and I've made an appointment to talk to one next Friday. I'm really excited about it because Leslie just seems so upfront about everything. She told me that she was going to 'fix' me and it just made me laugh. I welcome her attempts.

I suppose I will update this blog on how that whole experience is. Maybe she will fix me. 

[wheresmysilverlining-blog]

That was rough.

It's been a little over a month since the break up and today was his birthday. I've been going back in forth in my mind trying to decide what to do.

Do I wish him a happy birthday or do I force it from my mind and not say anything at all?

I decided to wish him a happy birthday. I know that friends of mine would have voted on the latter but ultimately it was my decision and in order for me to justify it, I told myself at least it's not a pathetic I miss you text. I haven't said a word to him since we broke up and despite the desire to say something to him before this, I haven't done it.

He didn't did reply and I suppose I'm not too surprised by it. I don't know what he's thinking or how he's doing -- I can't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing (his reaction) to it. As much as I'd like to know which one it was, there's no way of me knowing that.

I have to remember that he wasn't a permanent fixture in my life. He was just a part of it. And a month just wasn't enough time. I wish it would have been, but it's not. So the wait continues. And I'm okay with it.