Let's Talk About February

My blogging skills are horrible these days!  I feel bad neglecting this little space, but . . . well, I honestly just haven't really felt like blogging.  That's said, it's the end of April, so let's talk about February!  (Fair warning, it's a LONG entry).

February was a total roller coaster of a month--some really good things happened, and so did some really crappy things.

At the beginning of the month (the 6th, I think), I had my review at work (MHC), and absolutely killed it.  My boss pretty much told me I'm awesome, she's always impressed with me, and that she looks forward to seeing what I accomplish in my next year with the company.  Pretty high praise from my boss, because she doesn't say things like that lightly.  I was incredibly flattered/proud/happy.  Of course I got a raise (a good one).  Plus I got to enroll in the online CPC class just after my review, which is awesome!  I won't lie, the class is a little harder than I was expecting, but I'm glad I'm doing it.  I just keep thinking of being able to almost double my salary once I have my certification, which is a pretty decent incentive.

Not long after I had my review and all that, Jerbs got a new job!!  She's working at an urgent care now, doing front desk stuff, and she loves it.  She interviewed/got the job on the 13th, and gave Staples her two week notice on Valentine's Day, and her last day there was the 28th.  I'm so unbelievably happy for her!  She wanted to leave Staples for SO LONG and she finally got to!  It's been a really good change for her.  It was a little weird to pick her up at Staples for the last time, though.  I mean . . . she worked there for 7 years, and that time frame covers all kinds of major life events: us dating, our breakup, our first move to the east side, the entire whirlwind of me and Ex-Fiance, me coming back to Flagstaff . . . that's a lot!  I got a little weepy, but she was mostly like, "Fuck it!  I'm done!  Woohoo!!"  It's been good to see her so happy.

At the end of February (like the 22nd, I think), I went to an Eric Paslay concert.  He's kind of an up and coming country singer, and I really, really like him, and the tickets were only $25, so I figured why the hell not?  He performed at the Museum Club, which is this honky tonk bar in town (it's actually pretty well known throughout AZ, but I'd never been there).  I took my friend from work, Katie, and bought her ticket as a graduation gift, since she's in her last semester at NAU.  It was so much fun!!  And I was really proud of myself for, y'know, having a little bit of a social life and going out with someone who isn't Jerbs.

As for the bad . . .

Not surprisingly, it has to do with Stompy McFatAss, the wretch next door.

So February 9th (day before my effing birthday, mind you), I treated myself to Pita Jungle for dinner, and picked it up on my way home from work.  Also keep in mind that at this point, we hadn't heard anything from Stompy since that night in January when her apartment flooded and she had Jerbs call 911.  Also keep in mind that she hadn't complained about the dogs since June of 2014--so 9 months of relative peace had passed.  When I got home on the 9th, the dogs weren't barking, but when I got upstairs, there was a fucking noise warning on the door from the cops, AND a handwritten "anonymous" note from Stompy herself, saying that our dogs have been an issue for 2 years and that we had 48 hours to bark collar them or she was going to play the recordings she (supposedly) has of them "excessively barking."

Couple of things.  First of all, Stompy hasn't even lived here for 2 years, she moved in over 4th of July weekend in 2013, so she's about 5 months off on her time frame there.  Two, our dogs ARE collared whenever we're not at home, and if the batter in Max's died, I'm sorry.  But shit happens, and to go 9 months without a word and then have it escalate like that . . . fuck.  Three, I do not believe for even one nano second that this bitch has a recording of our dogs barking, and definitely not of them barking excessively.  Even if she DOES have a recording of our dogs, it's a moot point, because, fucking newsflash, if you stand on my porch by my living room window for 20 minutes to record shit, my dogs are going to bark at you!  They're dogs, you're trespassing, you're a threat, and that's just the way the damn world works.  I was more livid than you can imagine, and it wasn't long before that lividness gave way to a total breakdown.  I got anxious, convinced myself I was a worthless piece of shit, and bawled.  I called Jerbs at work and told her what happened.  At that point she called our complex and left a message asking about transferring our lease to somewhere else in the complex, because we were tired of our neighbor's shit.  After Jerbs got home, we talked it over and decided we needed to move--right away if they'd let us, at the end of our lease if they wouldn't.

That all went down on a Monday.  For the rest of the week, I refused to leave the dogs home alone, even with their collars.  I took early lunches, drove home to pick Jerbs and the dogs up, took Jerbs to work, and let the  dogs hang out in the car for the rest of the day.  On Tuesday (again, my freaking birthday), I got off work, promptly had an anxiety attack, and realized that I didn't want to be home alone either.  So I wandered around Bookman's, JoAnn, and Michael's, then sat in their shared parking lot until Jerbs was off at 8.  Definitely not the best birthday I've ever had, and I'm still pretty pissed that the bitch ruined my 18th birthday.

It was a shitty week.  I hated it, the dogs hated it, Jerbs hated it, everyone was miserable.  On Thursday, Jerbs finally heard back from the complex.  She said that at first, the manager was very customer service-y and chipper, told her that they don't usually do transfers without the lease being up, and asked which neighbor the issue was with to see if we could work something out.  Apparently, when Jerbs gave the apartment #, the manager's tone completely changed, and she was pretty much like OH, that bitch.  Apparently, we are far from the only ones who have complained about her, and she's an ongoing issue for the office.  The manager was actually pretty incredulous that she complained about the dogs, and flat out told Jerbs that no other neighbors have ever said a bad thing about us.  (Because, AGAIN, it's not a fucking issue)!  She also said that she came up here once to talk to the neighbor about something else, and she heard our dog bark like twice ("to let me know he was there," as she put it), then stop.  So she was basically like, yeah, sorry your neighbor's so nuts.

She said she'd see what she could do, and ultimately the answer was that we couldn't move right away, but they'd talk to the neighbor.  So while the no transfer was irritating, it was a tremendous relief to know that the office/complex management is on our side and aware that this bitch is totally insane.  In the meantime, Jerbs and I decided we'd just move when our lease was up and try to get a 2 bedroom (more on that later).

Since all this happened, Jerbs and I have stayed super diligent about setting the dogs up right when we leave the house.  We put up a black out curtain so they can't see the porch, leave the TV on low for a little noise, put out special bones they only get when we aren't home, and, of course, put their bark collars on them.  I also got 2 Skype accounts, one of which is logged in on Jerbs' computer at home, one of which is logged into on my phone.  I log in and call from work, so I can watch and listen to what's going on at home from my office, PLUS if one of them does bark, I can tell them to stop via Skype.  In the whole time I've been doing it, Max has barked once, and it was because a package got delivered on the porch.  The Skype thing has helped me to relax a LOT at work.  I'm hopeful that with all the issues our neighbor causes, she'll eventually get evicted.

And on the Friday after my birthday, my department co-workers brought cupcakes for a belated birthday gift, and that made me happy.  A few co-workers remembered on my actual birthday: Katie got me a huge jar of chocolate candy and these hilarious Ninja bread men cookie cutters, and the sleep girls got me candy and lip gloss and nail polish.  I love them, and was so glad a few people remembered.

So that was February.  I imagine that someday I'll get around to writing about March . . . maybe in June?

Why Mondays And I Will Never Be Friends

So today.

I woke up feeling good even though I didn't sleep well or enough last night.  I got out of bed early enough to take my time in the shower and do my hair.  I felt super cute and confident in my new shirt and shoes.  I left the house on time.

Needless to say I was pretty dang proud of myself when I got in my car.  I may even have thought to myself, "I am finally getting the hang of this morning thing!"  The fact that I thought that was probably a good indication that something was going to go wrong.

And sure enough, I was about half a block from home when I felt the car doing something weird.  It felt like a flat tire but I hadn't felt any kind of pop, so my initial thought was that I was imagining things and to just get to work.  But I decided to be safe and pulled into the little plaza at the end of my street and sure enough, my rear passenger side tire was flat.  Not just a little flat, but on the ground flat.  And my spare was also flat (which I kinda knew but wasn't too worried about . . . good job, Ica).  And of course there isn't a single open WiFi network anywhere in the plaza so I had to call Jerbs, who graciously texted me some phone numbers for towing companies.

So I waited for a tow truck to come and take me to Discount Tire (which cost me $65, yay).  Then the guy at Discount Tire who looked at my car was all, "Haha, hope you weren't on your way to work!"  Thanks, dude.  I waited and waited and waited at Discount Tire and fortunately, they were able to repair my tire.  I really thought I'd have to buy a new one and I wasn't looking forward to spending that much money.  There was a little staple in my tire, so I'm assuming it was just a slow leak that I didn't notice and it just happened to go out today.

I didn't leave Discount Tire until just after 10:30 and--because I just can't win--they were painting stripes on the exit I take from the highway so that added a good 5 minutes to my time.  By the time I got to work it was almost 11.  Because being 2.5 hours late to work is just the best way to start a week, right?

As aggravating as it was, I found myself feeling very grateful that I ended up not going to Kingman this weekend, because then I wouldn't have had much extra money and paying for the tow would have been horrible.  Plus, I don't know when I ran over that staple, so what if my tire had blown on the way to Kingman?  Just goes to show that there's a reason for everything.

I'm just glad my tire's fixed, glad my boss and co-workers are understanding about random BS like this, glad that I had the money to take care of it, glad that I can calmly handle these kinds of situations instead of completely flipping out, glad that nothing worse happened, and glad that today's over.

Happy Monday!

Retail Therapy

I had a rough week.

So today I went to Ross and spent $80 on clothes.  I cannot tell you the last time I spent that much money on clothes for myself.  I normally hate clothes shopping but between the shitty week thing and the fact that I've been feeling kinda frumpy in what I usually wear to work, it felt . . . necessary.

And since it was Ross, I got 4 work shirts, two sweaters, and a pair of shoes, so really it was a good deal.

I'm so glad it's Friday.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like . . .

Christmas.  And misery.

Seriously, the closer we get to the holiday the worse my mood gets.  I'm angry and sad and anxious and just generally not feeling so hot.

Sometimes I start to look forward to going home and spending the holidays with my family.  But it's off and on, it comes and goes.

I don't want to spend the holiday alone.  I've talked about why it's hard before.  I just . . . I don't know.  This is the time of the year I least want to be single and that I most want things to work out with my ex.  And it's so fucking stupid.  It's been almost two fucking years now . . . wake the hell up and take a hint, Ica.

I feel like such a moron.

I want to stay here for Christmas.  I want to take some Remeron and just sleep through it.  Wake up after the new year, when it doesn't matter as much that I've got nobody.  Just get through it and have 11 months of being OK before I have to do this shit again.

Edit:  After I finished this post my sister texted me and asked if I wanted to have dinner with her and Austin, because they came up here after doing the Polar Express in Williams.  And let me tell you, Austin makes everything better.

Not A Good Day

So last week I requested a Lithium refill through my pharmacy website.  After two days it still hadn't been filled so I called my doctor's office and left a voicemail asking them to just call it in, because I didn't want to deal with the same BS as when I called in my Paxil.  And it was filled this past Friday, and I finally went to pick it up today.  And it was the wrong effing prescription.  It was Lithium, just not the extended release kind.  It was the regular kind that makes me sick when I take it.  Just to clarify, I have been on the ER formula for more than two years now (since September 2011), I told this new doctor that at least twice during our visit back in September so I know it's in his notes, AND it's in my chart.  Yet somehow this moron managed to get it wrong.

So now I'm 4 days off Lithium and feeling like crap and generally just very, very annoyed with this whole freaking process.  Today especially sucked and I honestly found myself very bitterly thinking that maybe I should just terminate my treatment and let this shit run its course until its inevitable end.  It is enormously frustrating to feel like all the hard work I've done is a waste because my doctor is completely incompetent.  I really, really can't handle this up and down shit--being well, then being sick, then being well, then being sick, and so on.

I'm looking for a new doctor.  I'm done with this office.  Beyond done.  Apparently my old doctor was the glue holding the place together.

Then my mom called me at work to let me know that she was at the vet's office in Kingman to have on of our cats, Peek-A-Boo, put to sleep.  Peek-A-Boo was my first real pet, a white kitten with two different colored eyes, who I adopted from my childhood best friend.  She was very, very old--I think we got her in 1996, so she was 17.5 years old, and she had a good kitty life, I know that.  She was very loved.

Maybe this is weird, but I feel a very strong need to say good bye to my old pets, even if it's via phone.  So after I talked to my mom on my work phone, I grabbed my cell phone and slipped away to one of the sleep rooms.  I called my mom back and she put the phone to Boo Boo's ear and I told her how much I loved her.  Then I went to my desk and cried my eyes out.  Super grown up and professional, I know, but at one point or another I've seen pretty much all of my co-workers having similar break downs over their kids or spouse's or whatever, and I feel like I should get the same consideration for the things I care about.  Then I cried the whole drive home, and then I fell into my bed and cried myself to sleep.  I don't cry much anymore but when I do, I cry about everything that I'm unhappy about, so it's pretty intense.

All in all just a shitty, shitty day.  But I know that Peek-A-Boo is in a better place (I don't know if I believe in God or whatever, but I firmly believe that all souls, animal or human, go somewhere beautiful where they are reunited with loved ones and that they watch over us from that place), and I know that she's there with all of her furry siblings who've gone before her.  Especially Goochie, our dachshund, who we got right around the same time as Boo Boo and who passed away a few years ago.  My mom said that they were going to have her cremated and sprinkle her ashes in a pet memorial garden that the vet's office maintains.  I was glad to hear that.

And I know that the Lithium thing will work out, I just have to get through a day or two more and then I'll be good for another month, and in the meantime I'll find a doctor who knows what he or she is doing and understands the concept of continuation of care.

R.I.P. Peek-A-Boo.  Love and miss you.

Today Sucked

Today was just one of *those* days.  In the bad way.  It just flat out sucked.  No other way to say it.

(This is your official TMI warning.  I'm going to talk about my lady part issues in a second).

First, I'm on my period.  Which basically means this whole past week was bad what with PMSing.  This particular cycle's symptoms have been some weepiness and exhaustion.  Seriously, this whole past week, no matter how much sleep I got/how well I slept, I was just too tired to get much done.  Work was miserable and I hardly got to work out (and I did OK diet wise and I really wanted to exercise).  So just . . . yeah.  I was most definitely looking forward to the weekend.

Which brings us to today.

I woke up earlier than intended thanks to vicious cramps, and by the time they faded (after I took an obscene amount of ibuprofen), it was too late to go back to sleep.  So I thought whatever, and got dressed, because I needed to go to the bank.

In the process of leaving the house I grabbed my purse and discovered that one of the cats had pooped in it during the night.  IN my purse.  IN it.  And it was runny.  And it was all over basically everything in my purse.  I had to throw out the purse, my wallet, my daily pill thingy, two tubes of chapstick, a couple of hair clips, and a whole bunch of receipts.  Needless to say I was not thrilled.  At all.  I fought the urge to throw said cat off of our balcony.  (Note: I dug out one of my old purses and am using it for now, and Jenny bought me new chapstick and a new wallet).

I got home from the bank and change into a pair of sweats that were lying on the floor of my closet, and they were covered in cat pee.  (Seriously, the cats here hate me).

Picked Jerbs up from work and went to PetSmart to buy spray refill for Max's no bark collar.  For whatever reason the spray refills are locked up with the bark collars so you have to have a manager get it out for you.  Well, I had a cashier page someone over once, we waited about ten minutes, then Jerbs asked her to call again, and we waiting about 15 more minutes.  By that point I'd absolutely had it (customer service is NOT THAT DIFFICULT), so I told the cashier we were still waiting, to just forget about sending someone over, and that we'd be going to PetCo.  She apologized and I flat out told her it was their loss.  Which makes me sound bitchy, I know, but I don't screw around with bad customer service BS anymore.  (And we did go to PetCo, where we got the spray in like 5 minutes, and found a killer deal on cat litter.  Plus Max was ecstatic that he got to go to TWO stores in one day, so that was good).

While I was out and about with my emergency replacement purse, my water bottle leaked in it, soaking my phone and keys and debit card . . . so freaking annoying.

We got home and I was showing Jerbs how wedge make up sponges work and I inadvertently rubbed my eye with one she'd had in her mouth.  So I got Jerbs spit on my face.  Lovely.  Why she was chewing on it I have no idea.

And finally, a little while ago, I went to the bathroom and was going to remove my nail polish while I peed (I don't care if anyone thinks that's gross or judges me, peeing is boring and I like multi-tasking, K?)  So I had the nail polish remover, open, on the edge of the tub, and I flushed the toilet because there was tissue with make up on it in there.  And the toilet overflowed, and by the time I was able to grab the plunger the bathroom had mostly flooded.  AND in trying to get to said plunger I knocked over the nail polish remover which spilled on one of the rugs.  Now tomorrow I get to wash a big load of towels and rugs along with my normal laundry.  Fabulous.

So yeah.  I'm about done.

And with that in mind, I am going to go to bed, and get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow will be a better, more productive day.

Seriously, though, Saturdays aren't supposed to suck.

Sickly

I left work early sick yesterday, and I missed work completely today.  It's aggravating but it was necessary.

Basically yesterday, I woke up feeling OK, and by the time I got on the bus, I felt horrible.  I don't even know how to describe it . . . I was completely exhausted even though I'd slept well, my head was pounding and throbbing in the worst way, and I felt so weak I honestly didn't know if I'd be able to walk off the bus.  I got to work, ate breakfast, etc, and I just kept feeling worse.  Plus I was freezing cold.  One of my co-workers felt my head and said I was really warm.  At that point I asked if I could go because I was literally falling asleep at my desk.  If I'd been able to suck it up and stay I'd have gotten nothing done and I hate the idea of being at work getting paid for nothing.  So I came home and passed.out.  I was seriously so tired . . . like I don't remember having ever been as tired as I was, it was so weird.  I slept until 8 pm and went back to bed at midnight, still feeling pretty crappy.

I woke up this morning and felt worse.  I told myself to suck it up and dragged myself out of bed; when I took a shower my arms felt so weak I could hardly lift them to wash my hair.  Halfway through blow drying my hair I realized there was no way in hell I was going to make it to work and be even remotely comfortable, so I called my boss and left her a voicemail saying I was still sick.  (I think I was running a fever at this point too).  Went back to bed, woke quite a few hours later, felt OK, and attempted to go get food with Jerbs.

That was a huge mistake.  A few bites into my pasta at Wildflower I had to run to the bathroom and puke . . . it suuuucked.

Not a pleasant day.  But I'm feeling a little better now.  I just don't know wtf happened . . . and I hate when my body does things that I don't understand.

It could all be menstrual related, because my period started yesterday while I was on my way home from work.  Or I could have legit had a touch of the stomach flu.  Or certain mental issues could be translating themselves into physical symptoms but that's a whole nother story.

Anyway.  Hopefully I can work tomorrow, because I really hate missing.

An Icky Day

So even though I had a good time in Kingman and was definitely on an up when we got back, today was a difficult day.

I barely slept last night, woke up super late, was late to work (which wasn't a big deal but it still aggravated me), and then just felt off.  I felt kind of out of place at work today, which was strange.  I think it was just because being back in Kingman made me think of all the things I wanted there, and I just had this sense of . . . almost having suddenly remembered that Flagstaff isn't actually where I wanted to be right now.  That I wanted to be in Kingman, with my family, with Corey, that Flagstaff wasn't part of the plan.  Which isn't to say that Flagstaff hasn't been good for me and that I haven't done well here (I have a whole post coming about how I have), but still, I felt the regret come back a little.  It's an odd thing, wanting to be there but knowing I need to be here, and I think what I want is both: that life, but with this level of mental health.  And I try not to think about how I probably will never live in Kingman again and how I won't get a second shot at that life.

I had so much fun hanging out with my family but I know I would have been happier if I'd been going home to Corey.

Anyway.  On top of all that I really didn't want to take the rental car back because I liked driving myself to work.  And I was too tired to work out which frustrated me.

So really not the best Monday, but I'm confident that tomorrow will be better (a good night's sleep fixes a lot of things), I'm confident that Flagstaff has been the right move for now even if it's not what I want long term, and I'm confident that things with Corey and I will eventually work out however they're supposed to.

Grump Grump Grump

For some reason, I've been grumpy lately.  Maybe lately is the wrong way to say it since it's only been since yesterday but still.

I just woke up in a bad mood yesterday.  A really bad mood.  I'd slept fine and through the night (so rare for me), but as soon as I was up I was just . . . really grouchy.  For the first time since I started I didn't want to go to work, and I didn't want to talk to Jerbs or anything.  I don't really know why . . . it was just kind of one of those things.  I was OK at work and actually got a lot done but I just felt kind of off throughout.  I was so excited to get off at noon and come home and take a nap.  But then Jerbs got off early and I just felt weirdly annoyed with her . . . which is stupid because she hasn't done anything, and I felt bad.

I'm still a little grouchy.  For the rest of the day, after work, when I wasn't sleeping (I took a 4 hour nap . . . good job), I just felt off.  Kinda cranky, kinda down in the dumps, kinda panicky.  Like I said, I'm not really sure why . . . I have some theories, though.

I think the day started out badly because I decided to sleep in and skip showering, and even though I always think it's a good idea at the time, it never is, because I end up getting to work and feeling gross and ugly next to the other girls.  (I work almost exclusively with women . . . the only man who works in the business office is our CEO).  And of course that's not a good experience so yeah.  Plus I wore new shoes today (I finally found cute boots with a little heel!) and even though that's a good thing, I think the combo of feeling like I looked like shit and wearing cute shoes made me feel silly.  I know that sounds totally ridiculous, but it's true . . . I felt like an ugly little kid trying to wear big girl shoes.  (I love the shoes though).

Plus lately I've just felt . . . I don't know, weak and tired and sluggish and HUGE.  I think it's because I haven't worked out in quite awhile, which is lame.  Hopefully that'll change next week . . . the person I need to talk to about joining the gym was out yesterday and today, so I sent her an email today.  I can't wait to get back in the groove of working out.  I've also been craving bad things lately, and I've eaten out more times than I should have this past week.  Granted one day was my birthday, and two days were treats for Jerbs, but I'd wanted those 3 to be it and that definitely hasn't happened.  I am still under my goal for the month, so I'm going to try really hard to stop.  And then there's the ridiculous Dr. Pepper craving.  Lately I've just been feeling like I NEED soda, especially at work (maybe because I'm tired? I don't know).  But I was doing so well, craving more water and all that, and now all of a sudden . . . not so much.  (I am still drinking a lot of water, though, which is somewhat of a plus).  I'm not even going to say how much Dr. Pepper I've had in the past week because it's just too pathetic to admit publicly.

Most of it's probably just that my time of the month is about to start.  I hate it so much.

The panic is mostly over money.  I admit I did a lot of spending with this paycheck.  But it was almost completely on stuff I needed (like some new work clothes and shoes, groceries, household stuff, etc), and a big chunk of it was a rent check to Jerbs.  And honestly I'm making enough money to support myself but the thing is, I have to pick up my Lithium tomorrow (which is my expensive medicine) AND I have a doctor's appointment this coming Thursday.  Combined that's nearly $200, which sucks.  But I try to remind myself that I'll very rarely have those two expenses happen out of the same check (I only have to go to the doctor every 3 months), and that I get paid again the day after my doctor's appt., so really, I'll be fine.  Still, it's a little daunting.

So that's that.  Hopefully I get to feeling better soon, and hopefully this cycle doesn't suck too badly.

Sometimes I Just Want to Rip Out My Hair

Today was one of those days.  Just one of those days where I woke up in a fine mood but at some point shortly after I was awake, my mood started to go downhill.

First of all, I haven't heard anything back from the job I interviewed for on Monday, so I'm assuming I didn't get it.  I'm disappointed, irritated, sad . . . I had gotten my hopes up (as usual).  I just don't understand what it was about me that made them decide to choose someone else, y'know?  It's aggravating.  And I don't know what to do.  I feel totally helpless.  I went to this interview, I did my best, and it still came to nothing.  I worry that I'll never get hired anywhere, and I think of all the things I need money for, like my student loans and medical treatment and groceries.  I've been having anxiety attacks about all of this and it gets harder and harder to believe that things are going to work out and more and more I lose sight of where I want to get.  More and more I just stop caring, and it's frustrating.

Today after we ate we went to WalMart and I nearly got hit by a car.  Like legitimately nearly got hit.  This woman wasn't watching as she turned and probably came within 3 inches of me.  I was livid.  She rolled down her window and apologized and even though she sounded sincere all I could say was whatever, and then I made a deliberately loud comment to Jerbs as we walked away about how we were invisible that day.

And of course Christmas has exploded everywhere you go and that's not helping anything, so while we were at WalMart I just suddenly wanted to cry.  And throw things.  I was just so overwhelmed by sadness and anger that I could hardly breathe.

My mind just spiraled downward.  All I could think of was how pathetic and useless my life is.  I'm 27, unemployed, in debt, sleeping on my ex girlfriend's floor, friendless (I have no friends outside of Jerbs, it's fucking pathetic), car-less, broke . . . I just felt like such a loser.  Such a failure.  So full of hatred for my life.

And then I thought of Corey and I just couldn't help but feel like he's the one who put me here.  He sacrificed me for his own happiness, and given how things have gone for me . . . He cared--and cares--more about himself than me.  That was probably true throughout the relationship.  But those thoughts--that sense of having such a horrible life (because sometimes my life does feel really horrible) and feeling like one person is mostly to blame is crippling.  I cannot even begin to describe what that feels like.  Anger, helplessness (in the sense that I can't do anything to him for revenge, that he'll never feel even remotely guilty for anything he's done), sadness, betrayal . . . it's horrible.  Horrible.  I can honestly say that I have not felt like that since September, after that awful trip to Kingman.

I know that the best revenge is to get better, to BE better.  But then you go back to the earlier thoughts about everything and I feel like it's pretty clear that I can't get completely better.  Mentally healthy, sure, but the rest of my life is still always going to suck.

I'm a bit better now--I'm calmer, at least--but still, it was a hard day.

Blech

Blech.  My trip to Kingman did not go as planned.

Basically it's like that poem.  The parts that were good were very very good, and the parts that were bad were horrid.

It's late Saturday night, and I'd intended to be in Kingman until Sunday afternoon.  Yet here I am, back in Flagstaff, completely emotionally drained.  I'm heartbroken that Austin and I didn't get to have our second sleepover.

I'll elaborate tomorrow.  For now, I am just wiped the hell out and ready for bed.

Sometimes . . .

I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.

I don't know.  Today was a shitty day.

Work was terrible and exemplified all the reasons I hate this store.  I was feeling iffy about the potential new job (like iffy as far as whether I'd take it or not if it was offered to me) but I think today's shift was a sign that if I do get it, I should take it and run.

Then the bus ride home with Jerbs was stressful because we got stuck on our first bus (thank you downtown Flag) and missed our bus leaving the transfer station, which meant waiting for a half hour at the bus station.  Plus our first bus was full of college students and went through campus, both of which stress me out and depress me.

We got home and I took a nap, and it was when I woke up that the wanting to curl up in a ball and cry started.

I just felt so discouraged.  I can't even really put into words why, I just suddenly felt so down.

A lot of it is Ex-Fiance.  I miss him so, so much.  It's just kinda hit me the past few days and I wish I could see him and talk to him.  We haven't spoken in about two weeks and tomorrow will be three months since the actual breakup.  It's weird, and I don't get what's going on between us, and I just . . . am lost.

By Now . . .

I thought that at least something would have gone right.

That I'd have found a full time job.  But I haven't.

That my treatment would be going well.  But it's not.  I did get my labwork done but I don't know the lab's turn around time so . . . who knows when it'll actually do me any good.

That Corey would have contacted me more and maybe told me he loved me; that we'd have had a conversation about us and established that there's hope for our future.  But I never hear from him.  I stopped contacting him a few days ago because I was sick of being the clingy loser who needed him and it's clearly made no difference to him whatsoever.

If I could have just ONE of those three things I'd feel infinitely better.  But instead I feel like my life is epically  failing in all three areas where I want it to improve.

I have never felt so lost or miserable, and I've never felt such an intense sense of desperation before.

I feel like I can't catch a fucking break no matter how hard I try.

I just want Corey to come up here and hold me and tell me that it's going to be OK.  It's so stupid to want that and to feel like I need it but . . . oh my God I do.

Struggle

Sometimes I feel like living my life is a huge chore.

Sometimes I feel like I'm living moment by moment.  Like in my head I'm thinking, it's ok, focus, get through the next 10 minutes.  Then the next 10 minutes and the next and the next.

It blows.  I feel a lot like I did a couple years ago when just being awake didn't feel right.  When I wondered everyday what I was going to do and why, when everything I did came with these thoughts of what will I do once I'm finished with this?  What then what then what then what then?

It's miserable.  I'm miserable.

I want to see Ex-Fiance so badly.  I hate being apart.  I'm done with it.  Like I've said before I don't necessarily expect to move back to Kingman right away or anything like that; all I want to know is that he's still committed to me.  That he's not looking for someone else and that he still wants to be with me.

I have never been so unhappy.  I hate feeling this way.  Most mornings I wake up and immediately I either just feel awful and want to cry or I feel full of rage and want to kick and throw and break things.  But I know I can't . . . mostly because nothing here is mine and it would be highly inappropriate to break Jerbs' things.  So yeah, I feel like I have no outlet for the rage and there's nothing I can do to control it.  I have felt this way before--I used to feel this way everyday.  In fact I felt this way everyday for about 2 years.

Coming back to it now . . . I really don't understand how I did it.  How I made it through, how I managed not to kill myself.

If anything, though, it's proof that even if I wasn't perfect I was still doing a lot better.

I haven't been sleeping for crap.  I can't focus on anything.  I feel a sort of terror when I think of really focusing on anything, which is a weird feeling--but one I'm familiar with.

I think right now a big chunk of all that is that I am completely out of Paxil.  I still have some Lithium left (quite a bit, actually) but no Paxil.  And it's been . . . about 2 weeks since I had a full dose of it.  So no wonder I'm so fucked up right now.  Tonight Jerbs bought me some St. Johns Wort so that I could at least have something in my system for the depression.  So hopefully that helps because honestly, I know I won't make it through much more of feeling like this.  I absolutely cannot take it.

I just want my life back.  I want Ex-Fiance back.  I want . . . I don't know how to put it into words but I want to LIVE and I want something that isn't this.

Insomnia

I am too anxious to sleep.

Last night I had the worst breakdown I've had in years.

All day today I was anxious out of my mind.

Presently I can't stop crying.

I hate my life.  I hate everything about it.

I feel like I have no ownership in my life.  No say in what happens to me.

I have a job that pays less than $200 a month.  And it doesn't matter how many applications I fill out or how many places I send my resume to--I can't make someone give me a job.  And for some reason, even though I'm applying for essentially the same job I used to do at the clinic, no one seems to think I'm qualified.  And there's no guarantee that anyone ever will call me--isn't that terrifying?  I might be stuck doing 12 hours a week at Hastings for the rest of my life!

I can't take care of myself.  I can't pay for my own groceries, bills, anything.  I can't pay for treatment for my disorders anymore.  And there are no options for help.  Hastings offers insurance but it doesn't cover mental health, and besides, the hours I get up here, I'd basically be working just to have insurance.  And the great state of AZ (which I'll be stuck in forfuckingever since I can't afford to leave) has decided that only women who have popped out kids are worth helping with state insurance.  (That is a fact--I don't want children and have never been dumb enough to accidentally get knocked up so therefore I don't qualify for AHCCCS).

I don't have a car.  I don't even get to decide when I can and can't leave my house.  The city of Flagstaff tells me that, because I have to take the bus everywhere.  It blows.

I don't have my own room and because of the cats' litter box being in the bathroom, we have to sleep with the bedroom door open.  I have never slept well with open doors.  (Don't get me wrong I am BEYOND grateful to Jenny for letting me stay here when Corey decided he was done with me--my gratitude for her is endless . . . but gratitude doesn't put me to sleep).

I don't even have a real bed!  I sleep on a flipping air mattress.  What most people take on camping trips or throw in their guest rooms, I sleep on permanently.  And holy hell my body hates it.

I don't care anymore.  I haven't done laundry in a week and later today I'll probably go to work in dirty clothes, and I really could fucking care less.  I've stopped writing.  I've stopped reading.  I just . . . I don't care.

When Corey dumped me my heart was broken (it still is).  But I thought, I don't need him--I thought, if I can move away and get myself on my feet financially, if I can buy a car and become . . . become a human being, then I won't care.  Sure I'll still love him and miss him but I'd have my own life.

And it's not going as planned, and now I don't have him or a life.  Now I have nothing.

And there isn't shit I can do about it.  If no one gives me a job then no one gives me a job.  No money means no treatment, no treatment means complete mental breakdowns, complete mental breakdown means . . . well, I'll either end up killing myself or I'll be one of those unstable homeless people you see walking around downtown.

Those are my life options.  I am 27 years old, and I am a complete waste of space.  And this will be my life, always, because I'm not meant for anything more.

I tried to do everything right.  I really did.  I went to college, I busted my ass, I got a degree, I never did anything awful to anybody, I wasn't a slut, I just . . . I don't understand.

I don't understand.  I don't understand why I can't have anything go my way, why I absolutely cannot win.  What did I do?  Sometimes I feel like I'm being punished for the actions of others . . . but that's not something I'm ready to talk about on here yet.

And so begins the downward spiral.

Coming Down

I haven't had a good couple days.  In fact I've been pretty fucking miserable.  

I think when I got to Flagstaff it was new and there were fun elements of it and so I was on a little bit of a high, and I'm definitely coming down now.  I feel almost EXACTLY like I did two and a half years ago when I was in Flagstaff and before I met Corey.  Only now it's worse, because I'm going through a break up as well, and at least back then I had a car and my own room.  Oh, and I made about triple on unemployment what I'm making at this Hastings so there's that.

I try not to get down but I'm not happy.

I hate taking the bus.  I hate it because of all the walking it involves, and it's all uphill--I wake up every single morning sore as fuck and I think at this point I'm getting shin splints.  Yay!  Plus I have to plan everything on someone else's schedule--I can't just say, I feel like doing this or that, and leave.  I fucking HATE it.  I never realized how much having a car was tied to my identity and sense of freedom.  Plus grocery shopping is a nightmare because we can't buy anything heavy, because we have to carry it home on the bus.

I hate sleeping on an air bed.  It blows.  I have to reinflate it every few hours thanks to Jenny's cats (which I don't actually hold against her or them, it's just stupid to have to do that), and the parts of my body that don't get sore walking get sore from sleeping on something inflated.

I hate sharing a room.  I mean, yes, I shared a room with Corey but that was different so it's weird.  I have trouble sleeping with Jerbs in the room.

I hate the Hastings here.  My moronic dick of a boss decided that he doesn't need to pay attention to my availability when he schedules me, so Friday and Saturday night I work until 10:30 PM.  The last bus is at 8:30 PM on Friday and like 6:30 on Saturday.  So I get to spend $40 ($20/night) on cab fare to get home, because no one'll cover my shifts or trade with me.  And I get paid tomorrow but given that corporate dragged their feet with my transfer I lost 2 weeks of work, and I got a shift cut during the one week I did work this pay period.  So I'll be lucky if my check is $60.  So yeah.  I'll have about $20 to last me two weeks.  Yay!!  I'm really fucking glad I don't have bills or anything, y'know.

I hate not being able to work out as much.  Yeah I walk all the time but my AF membership is basically being wasted, because I just can't drag myself to do it.

So yeah.  There's more I'm sure but I don't feel like writing anymore . . . I'm fucking exhausted.

Patience, Patience, Patience

That's the lesson I think I'm being taught right now.  Patience.

I need to be patient.

I need to be patient about work and money.  Someone will call me back for a full time job; I just have to be diligent about applying for them.  I've been checking the AZ Daily Sun and Craigslist every day.  And in the meantime, I just need to stay calm and pray about it and Hastings is better than nothing.

I need to be patient with Ex-Fiance.  We talked a little bit tonight and it was about nothing big; I think deep down I'm always hoping that he's going to tell me he loves me and misses me like crazy and whatever, and that never happens.  And that's ok.  If we're supposed to be together we will be together eventually; in the meantime we need to take baby steps.  It is just so hard.  But I know that if we got back together now it would be the same as it was and it would just end again.

Suffice it to say I haven't had a great couple days.

Breakdown

A couple nights ago--Wednesday night--I had a breakdown.  A pretty bad one.

It was the first one I'd had in a few weeks (since I moved at least) so that's a pretty good thing.  But still, it sucked.

I don't know why it happened, really.  I think it was just a combination of all the stuff in my head about Corey, and being completely exhausted.  Wednesday I finally went back to work and even though I didn't work til one, I had to be up at ten to get ready in time to catch the bus.  So naturally I couldn't sleep Tuesday night and didn't actually fall asleep until close to six Wednesday morning.  So I had to go back to work on very, very, very little sleep, and after work I had to run to catch the bus so . . . yeah.  It was a blah kinda day.  Plus the store here . . . I just don't like it, to be honest.  It's disorganized and unstructured and poorly run and I miss the Ktown store.

So anyway.  I came home grouchy and then just broke down.  Same ol' same ol' breakdown . . . bawling my eyes out and this intense, directionless anger that actually makes me feel like I'm overheating.  This anger is the absolute worst symptom of these breakdowns, because it is so uncontrollable.  I feel like it literally takes over me and I can't stop it.  And no outlet will satisfy it; everything I do just makes it worse.  I cried and screamed and punched the chair I was sitting in and threw a book across the room.  I wanted to yell and scream at someone--I wished Corey was here so I could tell him how disgusting of a person I think he is.  I just wanted to take it out on something but I knew nothing would help.

I thought about cutting myself.  I thought about swallowing all the Lithium I have left and hopefully dying from it.  It was that bad of a breakdown.

And after the rage started to subside I cried for a little while, and then I apologized to Jerbs and she cuddled me for a bit, and I felt better.

So even though yes, I had a breakdown, the silver lining is that last sentence.  I FELT BETTER.  I calmed down and then I was . . . OK.  I mean, I wasn't in the best mood ever after, I was a little blah and out of it but that's better than how I felt during the breakdown.  And that is an incredible amount of an improvement.  Because before, these breakdowns would last hours, whereas this one was maybe 20 minutes total.  And before, even after the breakdown, I'd be a total grouch for a few hours at least, and most of the time for even longer--sometimes days after the breakdown.

So I am getting better.  I am improving, and I am making progress.  Thank God!

I Wonder

I wonder if . . . it ever was what I thought it was.

I wonder if there was ever anything more between us than two lonely, unhappy people who each needed someone at that moment.

I wonder if you meant a thing you said.

I wonder why you you even bothered proposing to me.  I wonder if in that moment you were as happy as I was.

I wonder if you ever intended to spend your life with me.  I wonder if you just waited until the end of the school year to cut two stresses out of your life at once.

I wonder what the girl who actually becomes your wife will be like.

I wonder if you were ever worth it.

Needless to say today was not a good day.