Why Yes, We Did Grow Up in the '90's, How Did You Know?

Tonight Jerbs and I went to the mall.  Our mall has a bunch of TV's in the food court that play music videos, and one of those systems where you can text request music videos.  In our opinion, it makes the mall a lot better.  Right now they're doing a promo thing for the group One Direction, so their songs/videos are getting a lot of play.  It makes us feel old.

So anyway, tonight I learned that Jerbs actually knows who all the One Direction guys are (courtesy of a co-worker who's a fan), and it was pretty entertaining.  As we're watching one of their videos, Jerbs called one of them Fetus Spice (because they're so young) and that led to us giving each of them a spice name.  Because honestly, we're old and can't tell them apart by name, and also, we are children of the '90's.

This is Fluffy Spice, because of his hair.

This is Leprechaun Spice, because he's Irish.

This is Old Spice.
Because he's 20.

This is Troubled Spice because he looks
kinda moody.

This is Muslim Spice, because he's openly
Muslim, which I think is awesome.

Jerbs was looking at their Wikis on her phone while we were at the mall and she said, "Hey, Leprechaun Spice likes Bon Jovi."  Weirdest sentence ever.  I laughed so hard I cried.

So yep, this is what Jerbs and I do on Saturday nights.  I love it.  And really, the bulk of our relationship is built on our ability to make each other laugh and make fun of people.

Thankful Thursday . . . or Saturday: Jerbs

I know it's Saturday.  I wasn't in a blogging mood on Thursday.  Or at least not in a blogging about good things mood.

Today I'm thankful for Jerbs.  She is pretty much the most amazing person I know, and I don't know what I'd do without her.  She's my roommate and my best friend AND my ex girlfriend, which I know is kinda weird . . . but somehow we're able to have a fantastic relationship even as exes.

We've known each other for 15 years now, because we had mutual friends in junior high.  Honestly, if you met her and me separately, you'd probably never, ever, ever imagine us as good friends, because in a lot of ways we're night and day, but somehow we work.  We hung out a lot in high school, and near the end of our senior year we started becoming close friends.  Fall of 2003 I went to NAU and she stayed in Kingman; then spring 2004 she went to NAU and I moved back to Kingman.  Summer of 2004 was when we kinda sorta started dating.  It was the fall of 2004 that we became roommates at NAU and started seeing each other more officially.  We broke up in June of 2009 and continued to live together until I moved away with Corey.

Those are the basics.  But really . . . she's awesome.

She's a genius.  Like actually, really, seriously a genius.  She knows pretty much everything and I hate watching Jeopardy with her, because she'll say the answer while I'm still reading the question.  Her fields are anthropology and theology.

Kind of a goth.

Least athletic person you'll ever meet.  Both as far as being an athlete and watching athletics.  I'm a football girl, and when I told her the season was starting in September, she asked what teams were playing that week.  I was like . . . all of them?  And she was totally confused because she thought only two teams played a week.  Hilarious.

Had no idea the Sound of Music involved Nazis until pretty recently.  Another hilarious conversation in which I actually knew more than she did.

She is incredibly supportive of me, and even before we were lovahs, I always felt like she . . . I don't know, like she liked me.  She has always seemed to think that I am a good person, even if I don't agree with her.  She also has never made me feel judged.  Even when I'm talking about how crappy things are or something I want to do that I'm struggling with or making decisions that might not be the best, she just listens.  I have never once felt like she was judging me at all.

She is very generous and has supported me financially when I haven't been able to support myself, and that amazes me.  I love her dearly for that, and I swear, one day, I am going to pay her back every.single.penny. Even if it takes me a while, I'm determined to do so.

She's my RENT buddy.  We saw RENT together in high school in Las Vegas (on a school trip) and then again at Gammage in 2009.  The 2009 tour had the two main characters being played by the role originators, and it was AMAZING.

She loves to sing, just like I do, even though neither of us is particularly awesome at it.  All the years we lived together and had a car, we'd sing musicals together while we drove.  And we had our own parts in each musical, too . . . totally one of the things I miss most about having a car.

Animal lover.  She always insisted she was a dog person, but now she owns (and dotes on) two cats.  They're Russian Blues, because Jerbs is actually allergic to cats.  RB's are a hypoallergenic breed and in the almost three years since we adopted the first one (she was supposed to be my cat, but she chose Jerbs) she hasn't had any kind of reaction.  It's amazing.  I knew she was a cat person deep down.

Because of her I've been to 2 Morrissey concerts (Pasadena and Vegas, and in Vegas we were in the pit) and a Sisters of Mercy concert.  The Sisters of Mercy one was especially amusing, because they're a goth metal band and I . . . am not a goth metal person.  All the other people there were wearing Doc Martens that had like a million laces, and it was hilarious to watch them undo them all for security screenings.  Meanwhile I just slipped out of my little brown loafers!  I was also wearing pink socks and a bright Dr. Pepper T shirt and I was SO out of place.  Jerbs braved the very violent mosh pit for the whoooooole concert.  I lasted approximately 2 minutes and then spent the rest of the night sitting by the wall.  It was ridiculous, but I seriously had never seen Jerbs so excited about anything, and it made me really happy.

Austin calls her Auntie Jerbs and he loves her.

We've watched a lot of TV shows together.  Some are total guilty pleasures--like America's Next Top Model (we were so addicted in college) and Toddlers and Tiaras.  Some are more normal, like Taboo and LOST.

We've been to Comic Con together!  It was a long time ago (2004) and sadly we haven't been able to go back since.  It was a 24 hour trip (which meant me driving from CA to AZ on zero sleep).  We drove 6 hours there, spent 12 hours in San Diego, and drove 6 hours back.  It was beyond exhausting but we had so much fun!  We would love to go back.  Soon.

At that Comic Con, our favorite author (or one of them), Neil Gaiman, was there.  And because of the volume of people to see him, only people who won arm bands got to actually get stuff signed by him.  I got a band and Jerbs didn't and I felt awful, because she'd been a fan longer and had introduced me to his work and stuff . . . but she wouldn't let me give her the band.  I met Neil and got some stuff signed and chatted with him, and it was awesome.  (I did get something signed for Jerbs).

Fortunately, in November 2008, the day after Austin was born, Neil did a signing/reading in Vegas and we got to go to that.  This time, Jerbs did get to talk to Neil, and they had a good conversation.  I felt like it made up for Comic Con a little.

She has literally saved my life.  She has literally taken away the bottle of pills I wanted to swallow or the knife I was going to slit my wrists with.  I'm not proud of having come so close to attempting suicide but I'm glad she was there to stop me.

There's more I 'm sure but I can't think of it all right now.  Let's just say I really love Jerbs and would be totally lost without her.  Especially right now.

And no, her name is not actually Jerbs.  It's Jenny, Jerbs is just a  random nickname I gave her.  And there is a semi logical path to it.  Plus it makes it easy to distinguish her from my sister Jenny when I talk about them.

Fact

It's virtually impossible to have a bad day when your day involves pizzookie.

Struggles and Stuff

I now know for sure that my full body soreness is just from my POS air bed.  For the past few weeks Jerbs has been offering to let me have her bed for a night and I keep declining because . . . I don't really know.  This morning I woke up as she was leaving, and I felt like crap.  I was so sore, and I'd slept maybe 2 hours the whole night, so I figured, what the hell.  I threw her blankets and pillows on my bed and moved mine over to hers, and I crashed.  I crashed hard.  I fell asleep basically as soon as I layed down and I didn't fully wake up until my alarm went off.  When I got up my hips didn't hurt and my back didn't hurt . . . glorious.
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Remember how I was talking about feeling like a failure and now knowing how to get out of that feeling?  Well, the thing is, I know what I need to do to fix it.  I know what I need to do to fix myself.  I have a whole list of self improvement goals right here on this blog.  And at one point  I was really determined to do all of those things.  But I get to points where I feel so behind that there's really no point in trying to improve.  What's the point of becoming the best version of myself now when I've already wasted so much of my life?  I'm 27 years old and have really done nothing with my life, and honestly, the thought of trying now and being determined now just seems pathetic and stupid.  I don't know how to shake that feeling of pointlessness in getting better.  Hopefully this has something to do with my low Li levels.
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I got my Lithium today.  Which is good.
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Tomorrow is the deadline to a short short story contest I'd been hoping to enter and unfortunately, I wasn't able to finish a writing project for it.  I'm disappointed because I had a few good ideas in mind and this contest had a big prize but . . . oh well, I suppose.
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After I wrote out that entry about giving up as far as Ex-Fiance is concerned I got to thinking about the whole setting a deadline thing and I started to wonder if I was right.  I know that I screwed up in our relationship too and I don't think his needing time/space is surprising or unreasonable.  And maybe it's unfair of me to say, be better by this date or it's not happening at all.  One of my goals was to let him get better while I did . . . and who am I to dictate how long that'll take?**  At the same time, I'd feel totally differently if I'd had any indication of how he was doing during this time apart.  As it is I stand by what I said.  New Years Eve.  If nothing's happened by then the new year will be my new start.  Then again, who knows?  Maybe I'm not even going to give it til then.
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I think what I'm struggling with most is just that something that meant so much and was such a big part of my life could be . . . just nothing.  Y'know?  Like . . . I can't even really put into words how strongly I felt about him.  And how much I really did believe that I'd spend the rest of my life with him.  And I know Ex-Fiance felt that way too and it just kind of blows my mind that it went from that to nothing.  And that eventually, he'll marry someone else and that'll be his real future, and that I'll end up . . . well,  somewhere else at least.  It kills me and it makes me wonder how we ever get over anything at all and what the point of love ever really is.  I know that sounds jaded and more like a Taylor Swift song than something anybody actually thinks but . . . I kinda do.  More than anything I realize now that I never, ever, ever want to put myself in a position where I can get hurt like this again.  Ever.  Which means that as much as I love the idea of soul mates and romance and true love, I'll probably spend the rest of my life single.  And if I avoid this ever happening again it'll be worth it.  Besides, I can't just turn strong feelings like that on and off and fall in and out of love; it's all too much for me, I think, so the dating scene really will never be my thing.
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**I know it always comes across like Ex-Fiance has all the power in this situation--like whatever happens between us is going to be at his say.  And in a way right now that's true.  But only because I feel like my cards have been on the table since the very beginning.  I've made it clear since the break up happened that I want to get back together, whereas he's been the one who was unsure.  (Well, not unsure, but you know what I mean).
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In a way I've started to feel like it never happened.  And that's really disconcerting.  In the time since I've been in Flag I've (obviously) thought a lot about Ex-Fiance, and usually the thoughts give me . . . well, feelings, I guess.  Like remembering happy things either makes me happy or sad, flashing back to the breakup itself pisses me off, imagining him moving on with someone new makes me anxious.  And now . . . now it feels like just nothing.  Like when I think of him, whether it's about good or bad, I have no strong feelings either way.  Just indifference.  And granted I've been feeling pretty indifferent towards my whole life right now, so maybe that'll all dissipate once I'm re-medicated.  But it's what I'm dealing with at the moment.

I Finally Realized

This past Saturday, I was thinking about Ex-Fiance.  And I had this moment where I was overwhelmed with hope.  I suddenly had this strong feeling that things would happen soon.  That we were going to start talking, that the conversation was going to happen, and that it wouldn't be much longer before it did.  And that feeling made me happy.

Then on Monday, while I was taking a shower, my mind was wandering and all of a sudden that feeling just kind of disappeared, and I had another moment where I realized . . . the whole getting back together thing that I've been hoping for since May isn't going to happen.

It didn't bother me as much as you'd think.  It was more like a calm realization, probably one I've needed to come to for awhile.

I just realized that . . . it's not going to happen.  It can't.  For a few reasons.

I guess, mostly, I just feel like we can't go back.  Our life together before wasn't wonderful, what with all the bipolar crap and his horrible first year of teaching.  Whatever potential it might have had is gone now.  There was too much bad stuff and whatever we tried now would just be too little too late.

I really did, and do, love him.  For so many reasons.  And there are still a lot of things that remind me of that, and a lot of things that I miss and will continue to miss.  Our relationship was broken but it was still beautiful. I firmly believe that at one point it was fixable but for whatever reason, we missed the opportunity.

But he broke my heart.  I know that I wasn't perfect, and I know that I put him through a lot.  But I don't think I deserved to have my heart completely crushed.

Did you know that he had a horrible first year teaching?  That he had a nightmare second grader who tried to stab him and who threatened to rape one of the girls in his class?  And that the administration refused to do anything to help and ultimately blamed his classroom management for the problems?  And I tried as hard as I could to be there for him through that.  And sometimes, I couldn't, I admit that.  But holy hell I tried and tried and tried.  And when the last day of school finally came I was so thrilled.  I was looking forward to him having a break, to a few months where we could relax together and reconnect and fix things and just be together.

He broke up with me on the last day of school.  I cannot even begin to describe what a slap in the face that was.

I felt like Flagstaff was my only viable option at that point for various reasons.  And yes, there have been times when I've thrived here, but for the most part, I've been depressed.  I've struggled.  Life isn't particularly happy for me.  I don't even have a real bed to sleep on, and as hard as I try to make the best of it, ultimately, I'm not happy.

I resent Ex-Fiance for putting me here.  And more than that, I resent him for keeping my life.  Even though we had issues, I was happy in Kingman.  I loved playing in orchestra--an orchestra I'd been in as a teenager.  I loved sharing that with him.  I loved ringing handbells again, and I loved that Ex-Fiance found that impressive (I'm a bad ass at handbells, not gonna lie).  I loved getting to spend time with my family, and at the Hastings there, at least I had co-workers I liked.

And Ex-Fiance kept that life.  While I'm up here struggling, he's happy.  He has a good job that I'm assuming is far improved this year.  He has orchestra and bells (at the end of this past season the bell choir lost like 4 members including me, so I'm assuming he's ringing).  He was going to join anyway and I was so excited to teach him to ring.  He's friends with people that have known me for decades but don't care that I'm gone and that it's because of him.  I can't even make a trip to my hometown without having an anxiety attack because now it's where he lives.  Now it's where my life did a very unpleasant 180.  I truly hate that.

Plus I feel like I gave all of myself to Ex-Fiance.  It may be TMI but I readily admit that I lost my virginity to him (yes, when I was 25).  Plus I spent holidays with him.  That almost hurts more than the physical intimacy, as stupid as that sounds.  Especially Christmas.  I love Christmas more than just about anything in the world, and I always daydreamed about having someone I could share that with.  And Ex-Fiance loved Christmas too, and last year, we had a whole house to decorate together, and I made us and our pets stockings to put up.  On Christmas Eve, as we got back to his parents' house from the candlelight service at their church, he pulled me aside, told me that I was beautiful, and that he was having an amazing Christmas with me.  On Christmas morning we woke up side by side and I remember thinking . . . this is what I've always wanted.  And now Christmas--for this year at the very least--isn't going to feel the same.  It makes me so sad.  I hate beyond all comprehension the fact that he has moved on like I was nothing, but there are things for me that will never be the same because of him.

I have tried to be his friend.  I have tried to give him time, and space, and to let him figure out whatever it is he needs to figure out.  But how fair is that?  Why should he get to break my heart so that he can be happy? And why should I just wait for him to be ready?

All this time I have thought, if only I knew what he was really thinking.  If only I knew how he really felt about me.  But . . . isn't almost 6 months of silence and ignorance the answer I need?  Isn't that a pretty damn good indicator of what he's really thinking and how he really feels?  I have never given up hope that we'd eventually end up together but . . . maybe that decision's been made for me.

Bottom line, I don't think I can forgive him for those things.  Because with all of what I just wrote in mind, I don't think it would matter how many times he apologized or told me he'd never stopped loving me or that he'd always planned on me being his future.  What's done is done.  I fucked up, he fucked up, and that's that.

I'm giving it until New Years Eve.  If nothing's happened by then, if we haven't started talking by then, I'm throwing in the towel in favor of figuring out my life solo.  I'm scared to death to say that out loud but it's time.  Come 2013 if there is still nothing but silence between us, I will get all of my stuff out of his garage, give back my key to the house in Kingman, and get my own phone plan.

I'll be honest:  if nothing's happened by New Years and I do actually carry out this plan, it'll be terrifying to me.  Because if I'm not hoping for a reconciliation, I don't have a clue what I'm doing with my life.  (Which I know is way way way way beyond pathetic but it's true).

Ups & Downs, Failure, and I Just Don't Care Anymore

I'm a mess right now.

I don't know what's going on.  (Well, I know part of what's going on, which is that I'm out of Lithium and have been for a few days.  Not my fault--initially it was a money thing and once I had the money, the pharmacy was all blah blah blah we need more time to fill it.  Hopefully tomorrow).

I feel like a failure.  I feel like I have failed at everything I've tried to do.  I got a degree, and all I have to show for it is a shitload of student loan debt that I'll never be able to pay off.  This December marks 5 years--half a decade--since I graduated college, and in the time since, I've worked as a retail slave and a receptionist.  Beyond.not.worth.it.  I've been talking about losing weight and getting in shape for years but I can't do it.  Plain and simple, I can't.

My credit's shot and has been for a long time, and Corey didn't hesitate to point out that he was afraid to marry me because of it.  My mental health is never going to be really stable because every time I start to get stable something goes wrong.  I CANNOT AFFORD MEDICAL TREATMENT.  Plain and simple, but does my doctor understand that?  No.  And why would he?  He probably makes more a year than I have in my entire life.  You'd think that when you pay someone as much as I've paid him you'd at least get a little understanding--because the reality is, I can't afford it.  I can't afford $60 for medication and $125 for appointments and $180 for lab work, I just can't.  Even when I was still at Hastings I couldn't afford it.  So I'll do better for a month and then bam, I can't afford a refill, and it goes to shit.  It pisses me off that doctors don't understand that financial problems are REAL.  It pisses me off that I live in a state that says women are only worth helping if they've popped a kid out of their vagina.  That's true, in AZ, you only qualify for state insurance if you have a child, which frankly is BS.  And I know that to most women childbirth is a lot more than just popping the kid out--but the women I know who are on AHCCCS, for the most part, did just that. My drug addicted cousin developed a seizure disorder and had neurosurgery, courtesy of the state of AZ--just because she accidentally had a kid.  A friend from HS literally does not know which of 3 men is the father of her child, but she gets free healthcare.  Meanwhile, I'm intelligent, and educated, and driven, and not a slut, but I have to suffer.  Bull.shit.

I'm scared, because I honestly don't know what my future is.  Will I ever make enough money to support myself?  Will I ever actually use my degree?  Will I ever get out of debt?

I'm sick of everything.  I have no drive left.  I can barely get out of bed lately.  Showering is a chore.  My laundry's not done, and I've stopped caring that I only own one pair of pants.  I'm sick of feeling guilty over everything that's happened between me and Jerbs.  I'm sick of eye strain headaches that come from needing glasses but not having the money to go to an eye doctor.  I'm sick of tooth pain, but I definitely can't afford a dentist.  I'm sick of waking up on a deflated air mattress with every muscle in my body screaming.  I'm sick of thinking about how Corey is back in MY hometown thriving doing things that made ME happy that were MINE first.

That life that I like to imagine where I'm happy and healthy and successful?  Never going to happen.  Just a fact.  I'm apparently not destined for anything past this.

I'm angry at the people who put me here.  I don't talk about it on here, and I probably never will in detail, but the reason I'm mentally ill goes back to when I was a very small child, when two people who my parents trusted with my well being chose to act on their own disgusting, selfish desires instead of my well being.  My life ended the second they did that.  Once those things happened, I never had a chance at a normal life.  Ever.

And I'm angry with Corey, for making believe it could be better--that I could be better--and then breaking my heart instead.  For making me think that love actually did exist and that I was worthy of it, and then sending me back to the same place I was before, so that HE could be happy.

I haven't wanted to kill myself in a long time--or at least, I haven't seen suicide as a viable option for a long time.  And I still don't.  I don't want to die.  But I don't want to live this life, and I feel completely powerless to change it.

(I'm struggling to stay optimistic even with all the BS . . . I really am.  I just needed to vent before I exploded.  Besides, once I have my prescription for a few days this might all just be for nothing).

This Pain is MY Pain

One of my biggest pet peeves is people who always tell you that it could be worse when you're not doing well.

I hate it even more when people go into specifics.  When they say things like, "Well, at least you aren't [somewhere currently affected by a natural disaster] [suffering from some awful disease like so and so] [dealing with blah blah blah like so and so] [whatever other specific example you can think of]."

I know that sentiment is rarely, if ever, meant as an insult or a negative.  I think generally when people say it they're trying to remind you to count your blessings.  I respect that, and being reminded to be thankful isn't necessarily a bad thing.  And yes, most of those examples are, objectively, worse than what I'm going through.  Right now, I'm going through a break up, and yes, I'd rather be dealing with this than a natural disaster or a bad medical diagnosis or a lot of other things.

But that doesn't mean I'm not hurting.  It doesn't mean that what I'm going through isn't the worst thing to me.  It doesn't mean that whatever I'm going through is meaningless in comparison to what anyone else is going through.  This is my obstacle right now, and it feels like hell.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not trying to say that other peoples' pain doesn't matter or that I don't keep those I know who are dealing with some bad things in my thoughts and prayers.  It does and I do.  Absolutely.

I just don't like the concept of comparing grief and pain.  It's not a contest.  And honestly, if it was a contest, is it one you'd really want to win?

I think everyone has their own pain to deal with, whether it's something tremendous like losing parts of their lives to a natural disaster, or something not quite as tremendous as being dumped a month before your wedding.  And I think we should respect one another's pain--respect the fact that it exists and is real to them, even if we can't see it.  Does that make sense?  Just because you think someone else might be hurting more, it doesn't mean that the person you're talking to isn't hurting.

When people confide in me about whatever it is they're going through, I never tell them it could be worse.  I only tell them it'll get better, and that I'll listen if they need someone to talk to, and that if I can help them some other way, I will.  If I catch myself thinking that they don't know crap about grief or pain based on what I've gone through myself, I tell myself to shut up.  Because their pain is theirs and I don't know what it feels like to them.

Loved and Lost

"Tis better to have loved and lost than never loved at all."

That's been on my mind lately.  Mostly because since the whole break up thing happened there have been people who said it to me and it always just kind of bugs me.

So I asked myself . . . if I could go back to a time before either of my serious relationships started and know how they'd end up before I got into them . . . would I do it again?

With Jerbs, I'm not sure.  I loved her and our break up wasn't too over dramatic or anything.  I mean, it wasn't a pleasant experience, but still.  However, in the years since the break up I've felt a tremendous amount of guilt over her.  I've felt guilty for not being with her after all she's done for me, and I feel guilty that she's still doing so much for me even though I've fallen in love with someone else and all that.  So I'd only not date Jerbs in order to avoid the guilt.  If I could go back and see how things turned out, I'd still do it, I'd probably just work harder to not become so dependent on her during the relationship.  And I might insist we not live together after the break up.

With Ex-Fiance, there's no question: if I had known that things would turn out this way, I'd choose to never meet him.  I'd rather have never known him at all than be going through this now.  Yes, love is wonderful and all that, but in my opinion, not worth this.  Not in the least.

And it's not even really because of not having him.  As much as I love Ex-Fiance, I'm pretty sure I can adjust to life without him in it.  What's hard to live with is the intense sense of worthlessness I got out of this whole thing.  When Ex-Fiance broke up with me I felt completely worthless.  I was so distraught that someone could tell me that I meant so much, that I was worth so much, that he loved me so much, that he wanted to be with me for the rest of his life.  He promised to always love me, and I believed him--I believed him 100%.  And for him to be able to just walk away from all that is mind blowing to me.  Nothing--NOTHING--has ever hurt my self esteem so much.  And I know that I contributed to the break up to, but the . . . I don't know, the coldness of it on his part was hurtful.

It seems that people get engaged left and right anymore.  I know tons of people from college who have gotten engaged and broken up like it was nothing, and I hate that.  When I got engaged, I meant it.  I wasn't agreeing to an engagement and a shiny ring--I was agreeing to a marriage and a life long commitment.  And there have been people who have acted like I was an idiot for ever believing in it at all, which is just sad.  He asked me to marry him; I thought he meant it.  I honestly believed that that relationship was it for me.  And going from that to this just sucks.

I hate how I went from being sure of something to being sure of nothing.  I don't like where I am right now; I don't like being back to wondering where my life is going.  Sure, a marriage was going to be just one part of my life, but it was nice to have something to be sure about.

So even though I still love Ex-Fiance, I'd choose not meeting him over this any.day.of.the.week.  The end.