To the Small things in Life 11/17/15

Life is exhausting.

I've got a full course load, am working for two professors, going to group therapy, doing all of my work, and yet, I still have time to watch a ton of Netflix.

Maybe I should pick up a hobby? I don't even know what I'm interested in though.

I can't believe where I am in life. I don't mean that as in,"Wow look how far I've gotten!" I mean it more as, how did I get here? Why did I get here?

At group therapy I don't participate that much, not because I don't have something to say, but because when I say something, no matter what it is, even something helpful to someone else, I regret it.

I regret talking.

I don't know why though.  It's not that I regret bonding with people, it's just that I don't feel like I have the right to talk.  That my words, my feelings, and my thoughts are unimportant, that I have no right to let them interfere, even in a good sense, with someone else's life.

I don't think it's due to a low self worth, but I guess I'm not really sure what that truly means.

Maybe one day I'll get over it, that's what everyone does right? Get over their issues?

I actually said this in group today, the when I talk thing.
Curious as to what happened?
It wasn't acknowledged, one of the other members said something and the conversation quickly ran to them.

I don't think it was intentional.
In the debriefing the counselors mentioned it, saying that it took guts to say it, that I was opening up a bit to the group.  They said that they'd been wanting to check in on me through the whole time period of an hour and a half, the first hour when I didn't say anything at all.
No one did though.
You know the saying, "It's the thought that counts."?
I'm calling BS on that.  If they really wanted to check in, they would have come in during the lulls in the conversation.
It doesn't matter though, I don't know what I'd have said when they asked what was going on with me.
To be totally blunt with you, it's just me. I can't say for certain, but I don't think that I'm any different in a general social setting.  I don't say anything because when I do, I get noticed.
I want to blend in.
I want to be forgotten.

On a different note, I jumped in puddles today.  I mean why not? I was getting wet anyway.
It's been raining for two days now, tomorrow looks a little less like an outdoor shower though.

I walked to a meeting with one of the professors, we're working on a game for econ students, total downpour, my shoes were soaked and my pant legs were pretty wet too.

After group today I decide that since I was going to get wet, I might as well make the best of it.
I knew that I was going home, that I'd have a ten (10) minute wait in the rain while waiting for the bus.

When leaving the building, I stepped in a puddle, unintentionally. Cold water rushed into my shoe and I could feel the water between my toes.
Every puddle, stream of flowing water, basin of pure rain, I stepped in.
Not only did I step in them, I jumped in them, I kicked the water around in them, I splashed and I had fun, also took a video of a worm that was swimming along, probably dying now that I think about it..

But despite the looks from the other students, the fact that I was in tennis shoes, holding an umbrella, and mostly dry, I did it for me.

I keep telling myself to do something every few days, hopefully eventually every day, that's just for me.

No actual gain from it other than it was just for me.

If I'm going to be honest, I'm not doing so well at it.
I forget to do me.
I don't really know the repercussions of this, but I'm sure there will be some, maybe not directly, but I'm sure there will be some.

I purchased the tickets to go see my friend in December, over winter break. I still haven't told my parents I won't be joining them for Christmas, I'm not sure how.

I thought I'd get to see how they reacted to my brother saying that he would be working through Thanksgiving so then I could know what to expect. He asked me if I would be willing to go to an early Thanksgiving on Tuesday or Wednesday instead.  I told him I would.

I know vaguely what I want to say to them.
I want to say that I'm not skipping spending the holiday with them to hurt either of them.
That it isn't because I don't love them.
It's because I want to spend the break with my friends, I don't know that I'll ever have a more opportune time to just be with friends.
That I plan on offering to cook a dinner for them, a ham, oven roasted vegetables, hasselback potatoes, and butter and herb biscuits. That I'd make a dessert of an apple pie and peppermint bark.
We can exchange the meaningless gifts on the 18th and 19th instead.

By the way, previously my brother and I have gotten her a necklace or earrings for $15 from Khol's, and a few times ended up putting it on her Khol's card, meaning she paid for her gift, but this year, I think I'm going to make her a box of recipes.  Ones that I like.  Because sometimes I do care,  and sometimes I think that I can pretend just enough to make it look like that care is for them.
Granted I have no idea what to get for my father.

But I don't think it'll work.
I don't think they'd be happy with it, with me.
Maybe they'd see that barely any of the above is true. I would make them dinner, but everything above that, nah, nothing to me, I may not want to hurt them, but I don't want to make them happy under false pretenses either.

I have to try it though. What can they say, no, you have to be here?
Too bad.
I am my own person.

I may not know what the best decision for me is, but I do know that being around them isn't an option.

Here's to the small things, the insignificant things, and the things that matter most.
Here's to puddles, family, and Hillary.

Carson

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A brief summary of a long time 10/7/15

It's been a while, a really long while.

I guess you could say that things are going well.
Classes haven't been too terrible; I found out that I actually like finance courses. Wasn't a huge fan of accounting in high school, but to an extent, I really enjoy it now.

Things haven't changed a whole lot, I'm still avoiding various aspects of my life: the blood elders still don't know of Hillary, I haven't offered up any information regarding classes or work, I still have issues from time to time, but that's expected.

Two weeks ago the blood elders came in to town, not to see my brother or I, but because Rhonda had a meeting and Tim wanted to give her company on the drive.  We did have dinner with them, but I am mildly proud to say that I had a nice peaceful dinner at a restaurant, mostly because I didn't engage in conversation, and "watched" the football game going on.

They didn't ask too many questions, I didn't provide too many answers. Tim wanted to hang out on Saturday, they got there on Friday, but I mentioned that I was studying for tests and had a group project to do.  If that was a 100% true statement, we won't ask.e

I started group therapy.

It's odd.. I'm not sure it's the place for me, but hey, you never know where you'll learn something.

It's a relationship group, we meet on Tuesdays for an hour and a half.  There are ten of us and six therapists, and we've had four meetings so far.

It's a bit surprising how much the ten of us have in common, and not just relationship building/mistrust things either.

One of the girls, there are only three of us, seems like an interesting person.  I'd probably hang out with her if we could have contact outside of group.

In the group we talk about whatever comes up,  sometimes it's things that are happening, dispelling social norms, or explaining how and what it looks like when our walls go up.

I'm not really sure what it looks like for all situations, but I know for me, with my parents one way a wall showed up was that I quit informing them of my actual habits.  Sure they were still minutely interested, not enough to see that I didn't actually care about what I was telling them, but enough to still ask.  As an example, Rhonda asked about my classes and if I like them, I responded with that I really like my literature class, not a total lie, I enjoy literature, but I didn't want to give up with what I'll call my little secret, I really enjoy economics.  I'm starting to see that I could end up as an international economic corespondent.

One of my professors offered up an opportunity of holding a position to answer questions of Japanese students about the United States agricultural economy, there were ten positions open and I now hold one. I'm pretty excited about it.

I could also see being an econ professor though.  Maybe I could  be both? It's my life, why not.

Granted, what I'd really like to do, own a book shop or community library and not have to have a mentally challenging career. It may be weird, but I kind of like the idea of having a job that's a bit mind numbing some times.  One that I care about, but one that doesn't exhaust all of my energy so that when I get off work, which I hope not to be a 9-5, I can still have me time.

That's a goal of mine, to not have to work all the time.  I've seen what it does to a person,  it's not a pleasant sight.

I'm (slowly) learning to let go.

Some days are still taxing: talking to Rhonda for 28 minutes the other day, that was really rough, but I made it a point to stay verbally cheery, even when I absolutely wanted off the phone. I'd like to say that it made a difference for me, I can't say for sure that it did, but I know that Rhonda wasn't near as audibly frustrated and pissed off at me as she usually is.

Later that day I felt like I had a bowling ball being shoved into my eye sockets, on top of someone rhythmically inflating a balloon inside my skull.

I wanted to just pass out for a few days, total darkness and silence, curled up with Hillary.  That didn't happen, I had class, needed to cook dinner, and do some homework.  Life doesn't go as planned very often does it?

Lately I've been thinking a a lot about how when I was little I wanted to be blind, it still seems viable some days.  I think it stems from the light sensitivity, that if I could wear the glasses, not have to have my eyes open to walk around, it might be better.

I don't fully believe that though, only if it was a controlled blindness.

People look at you really funny when you wear your sunglasses inside while walking through Walmart, it made it a tad more bearable though.

I think it'll work out, it has to right?
Even if it's not how I wanted it to work out, I guess some day it will no matter what.

--Carson

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The Secret Life of Carson 7/18/15

Things have been circling around me in a very chaotic manor lately.

A few weeks ago my mother left her phone in the city where I live, she told me that I was bringing it home when I visited that weekend.

I wasn't going to visit that weekend.
I talked about various options with my counselor and we decided that I needed to be assertive that I was not going home, that it was her problem and she would work around my schedule, or she could come get it herself.

To me, her telling me that I was going to take it home with me that weekend was more than a step across a line that she did not have a right to cross, it was pushing her problem off on someone she thought she could manipulate into doing what she wanted so it became their problem instead.

I offered up two options:  Either we could meet halfway that night (Friday) at 7pm and I'd go back to my home instead of to hers, or she could wait until Sunday when my brother went back from spending the weekend with me and took it to her.

The second was not an option for her, her phone was more important than that and she needed it as soon as possible, so I needed to go all the way to her house to give it to her.

This to me, was not an option.

Historically, I go to a very dark place when I have to be around them, and it only gets worse the longer I'm there.

I spent two days under their roof in May, my thoughts of suicide came back full force.
Going to what use to be my home is a life threatening mistake for me, one that they don't know about.

I held firm on not being able to go home, on false reasons but they didn't need to know that.
In the end, we met at a gas station an hour and a half from me and 45 minutes from her. Better than alternatives I suppose.

One week later, actually, not even that, my father emailed me saying that there was a family reunion at a pub somewhere in Kansas.

He didn't type anything below the image of the invitation.
It was seriously just a forward.

I considered ignoring it, but two days before it was suppose to happen, my dad forwarded another email, which showed that he had registered for 4 people to go.

Himself, my mother, my brother, and myself.

I hadn't replied, saying that I was going, as a matter of fact I wasn't planning on going.
I got a phone call that same day asking WHEN I'd be at their house.

I decided to minimize my time there if I was going to have to go.

The reunion was on Sunday, so I got to their house around 6pm on Saturday and went to the movies with my brother, getting back around midnight.

This limited the actual time spent with my parents.
My mother was still awake, but I limited the amount of time around her by not stopping to talk to her and taking my clothes with me to the bathroom to change, then turning my light off immediately when I got back to my room.

One day down, right?

The reunion wasn't terrible, they made us sit with people we weren't directly related to.
I only knew 5 or 6 people there, so that wasn't hard.
The people my brother and I ended up sitting with were our cousin, his wife, and two children.

We'd never met before and it was evident that they wanted to be there as much as we did.  (If you didn't figure it out, we didn't want to be there)
Turns out they were also guilted into going, something about meeting the cousins we should have grown up with, and always wanted to meet.

When you put it that way... His kids were my brother and my's age.

Made it back to my home without too much pain.

One week passes, July 4th.

On the 3rd I get a call asking if I'll be at their house for the 4th, short answer, no.
I didn't elaborate to them, and I didn't budge.
It was a no.

Saturday, July 11th. My mother had sent me a message on Wednesday or Thursday, no text, same as with my father's, a picture announcing a different cousins retirement from the military after 22 years.

I ignored this, I didn't want to go.  I've met him once, sent me a few pictures from when he went to Iraq the first time, I was in Fourth grade.

Returning to Saturday, I got a phone call when she was about 15 miles from where I live, it was about 1:15, and she wanted to go to lunch before we, yes we, went to the ceremony.

I'd eaten lunch, explained this, her response was that she wasn't hungry any way, and we would meet at my apartment then go to get a retirement card before we left.

As a side note, she had never known where I live prior to this.
I liked it that way.

I wasn't getting out of it though, so I made sure she wouldn't be going into my apartment.

It was good seeing my cousin, neither of us really cared though. He, his wife and two kids were moving to Florida.  The wife and kids having lived there for a year prior.

Not horribly eventful, my mother fell once, in the bathroom of the military facility, then again at the restaurant we went to.

I made sure she was okay, but over all didn't really care.  She made a lot bigger deal about it that it was.

When we got back to my home, she asked which floor I lived on.
I hadn't disclosed this information.
I replied fourth, and she asked if there was an elevator.
To my thankfulness, there wasn't, and I knew she wasn't in the mood for stairs with her hip hurting.

Crisis avoided.

The parents still don't know about Hilary my cat.

But wait.. we traded cars that Saturday, mine was getting worked on again after having the engine replaced in late May, more engine trouble.

I got my car back and I was excited, granted I wasn't sure why I did because the issue wasn't fixed.

Two hours after she had left, I get a message saying that yes her hip is bruised, and we have to trade cars again because mine wasn't finished yet.

She wanted to do it Monday, but I had things I needed to do so that didn't work.  She asked about later in the week and I said that I get out of class at noon and could meet her halfway again, at about 2 or 3.

I had thought this to be the plan until I get a phone call from my mother on Tuesday, at 12:30.
She was at exit 124 and wanted to trade cars, go to lunch, and see my apartment.

You can get off any any exit, 122-129 for where I live, I usually get off at 127 because it provides a fairly direct route.

I got Hilary's food, water and litter box hidden, she was asleep behind the couch so I wasn't too worried.

At the last minute, I decided to move the litter box from under my bed to in the empty pantry in my kitchen.

I had set up with a friend on a different floor of my building to take Hilary should my mother ever come into town.  She was at work at this time though.

I crossed my fingers that Hilary wouldn't have to use the bathroom or get hungry, let alone decide that she like strangers instead of her usual hide from them.

I met my mother in the parking lot, had eaten lunch right after class (my usual) so we didn't go out to eat, and she went up to my apartment.

To say that I felt my place of sanction and safety being infiltrated by the enemy would be an understatement.

I gave her the small tour of my kitchen, which is connected to my living room, then my bedroom, closet, and bathroom.

I about had a heart attack when she asked for the quilt I'd made last summer,  I had used it to cover the couch for Hilary, she liked to sleep under blankets.  Meaning it was covered in cat hair, on a black background. Hilary is pretty much white.

She wanted it for a quilt show, and I quickly thought, oh no, sorry it's dirty. But don't worry she offered to wash it.

I'm not sure what she thought, if she did in fact see the cat hair on it when she got it back to her house.  I'm sure to find out later. maybe she thinks it's from their cats.

As she was leaving my bedroom, she turned around and looked under my freaking bed.

Who does that?

It's like she wanted to find something to give me hell over.

It's okay though, she also looked in my refrigerator before she left, saying that she needed to get lunch.

If that wasn't an invasion of privacy I'm not sure what would be.

The intrusion lasted about 45 minutes, not horrible, but 45 minutes longer than I wanted it to last.



I really don't know what to do with myself.
Now being in my apartment seems like she'll just drop by.
Basically what she did that day, but maybe with less notice next time.

I hate them, my parents, I really hate them.

If I didn't have them, I wouldn't end up in this mindset, I wouldn't be dreading the next time I had to go back to that horrible place they call home, and I wouldn't have to put up so much energy to pretend to be the person they think I am and want me to be.

That person that they want me to be, I hope I've never been, but I know that at some point I was.

I did accommodate their demands.
I did fall into their guilt trips over things that I had no stake in.
I did do what ever I could to make things easier, on myself and them.

Now, now I'm not.

I'm not accommodating them, I'm living my life how I want, now how they dictate.
I'm not playing into the guilt they try to hold over me, or try to bend me.
I'm not going to make things easier on them, because they never granted me that courtesy.

I had to protect myself from things that I didn't even know I was protecting myself from.
I gave up things I loved, because when they saw I liked it, it became their accomplishment.
I made things harder for myself in the future, by making it easier at the time.

I'm willing to keep the real me a secret from them, if it means that when I'm not around them, I can be me without any influences.

Needless to say, Hilary remains one of my secrets.

I have gone down hill from where I was before her unexpected visit.
My migraines got worse, they had been doing okay, but not any more.
I can't sleep through the night, and my days are filled with thoughts I thought I was done with.
I've cried myself to sleep a few times, and that seemed to work.
Sleep aids don't, I still wake up just as much, four to five times a night.
I now have notes around my apartment remind me to." Be gentle on yourself, you're doing the best you can."  and reminders of the future that everyone deserves to have, the one they want.

"I still may not know
what I want to be when
I grow up but I do know
that I want to live at a
home filled with books
& travel souvenirs. And
the walls that aren't
covered in bookshelves
will be covered with photos
of my family & friends.
When I leave home I will
be going to a job I love,
and I'll return to a
person I love. So that is
The dream I am working on."

I don't know who the quote is by, but it's true, next to my door so I see it any time I leave my room, the small hopes.

Someday, when I am able to have the life described in the quote, I won't have to live my life as a secret from a few people.

Those people won't matter.
They won't be in my life, because it was my choice not to bring them along.

Here's to the future, to a life that isn't a secret.

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Becoming Human 6/21/15

I think things in my life are slowly starting to untangle themselves, I had a friend living with me for 12 days, having left a few days ago, that visit was a very eye opening time for me.

He helped me realize that although not everyone is willing to show me, I can in fact be loved.

I'm not sure he knows what he did and has been doing for me over the past few years, but if he ever reads this, I hope by the end he knows exactly what I mean when I say thank you.

When we first met, neither of us knew what our friendship would become, we were just two kids playing an online computer game.  There are several hundreds of thousands of people who play computer games, probably more than that actually.  But the night we met, was a turning point for both of us.

Although we didn't keep constant contact over the years, we have known each other for the past 5, only having met twice in that time period, including this most recent visit. Even so, we are pretty close to one another.

While he was visiting me, we got to know the little things about ourselves and the other.  I learned that he snores, and while I absolutely hated when my dad would snore, it was kinda cute with him. He has the habit of turning down the air every night before bed then complaining in the morning when it's cold.

I can't say I've ever seen one person consume so much food, not that he overate, but that I was not prepared to feed a guy.  Will definitely have to think that one over before the next visit, I'll have to stock up for sure.

We cuddled each other quite a bit while he was here, I knew that I enjoyed cuddles, but this reaffirmed it.  My parents didn't cuddle me when I was little, so up until about a year ago, I assumed I didn't like cuddling.  I haven't really been one for physical touch, but having him around all the time made me realize why I didn't like it, and that in fact, I did like it.

I don't like it when it's coming from strangers, aka my parents, their touch seems horrid, and revolting, it makes me want to cringe, actually I made that mistake once when my mom hugged me, she did not appreciate it, at all.

But touches, if that's hand holding, or cuddles while watching Netflix, were welcome.  He was sitting at the table one day and I was in my bedroom doing something, a song came on Pandora and I stopped what I was doing to wrap my arms around him.

It was something that I had always thought was right for that song, finally being able to do it brought me to tears, I'm not sure he knows that though.

I learned that cooking with someone doesn't have to be annoying and bothersome.  Generally when I'd cook at my parents house, it'd either be picking up what one of them walked away and forgot about, or being told to do <insert action here> while they use the computer.  With him it was natural, it didn't seem like a forced interaction.

I guess to an extent, I learned what being in a loving household was like.

It really is something that I didn't realize I was missing.
Doing dishes, cooking, laundry, general living together actions.

Now that he has gone back home and has started his move to a new state for work, I find myself wondering if I'll ever end up with that kind of relationship again.

How can I work and align my life so that someday, I have someone to go home to?
Knowing that when I got home, there was going to be someone that was excited to see me, someone that knew the real me, and still wanted to be around.

I struggle with seeing why anyone would want to be around me.  I don't see that I'm in anyways special and sometimes I even think that people would be better off not being around me, because they'd be happier without me in their lives. I try not to dwell on the last thoughts, I know they aren't healthy.

For me, I can usually only expend a few hours on social interaction with someone before it becomes dire for me to spend time alone.
With him, that wasn't the case.
I was quite honestly shocked, but not surprised in reality.

It's lonely now that he's not here.  Sure I have the cat that he and I adopted, she's been a great help to me.  Since he left, she's one that keeps me healthy.  Having to feed/water her provides a moderate structure to my life.  At night, when my mind is allowed to wonder just before bed, sometimes it'll take me to a dark place, one night while he was here, I ended up crying while trying to fall asleep, she jumped up on the bed and comforted me.  I was so very thankful for her being here.

Last night, she decided to sleep in my closet instead of curled up at my side or behind my knees.  I guess how I'd describe that would be heartbreaking.  It's crazy to think that something can become natural and normal in such a short time span, but between cuddles at night and companionship, it was an empty feeling for sure.

Hilary doesn't totally fill the void that he left, but she does try, and for a cat, she does pretty well at it.

The other day, I was having a pretty bad time, where a human would have talked and comforted me, she just kinda looked at me with a face that said,"Mom, you need to play with me."  We played with a hair tie for a little bit and I think she figured out that wasn't what I needed because she quit playing and curled up next to my feet on the floor.

I just sat there petting her for a bit.
She was comforting, I greatly appreciate the company she provides.
It's a support that I haven't really had before.

After leaving him at the airport, I cried.
I cried as I hugged him the last time;
I cried as I was walking away;
I cried as I was driving home;
I cried as I got into bed alone;
and I fell asleep crying.

Crying isn't really something that is common for me;
I didn't cry and my grandma's funeral;
I didn't cry when I found out my mom had cancer;
I didn't cry when my dog died;
but I did cry when he and I parted.

I can't say they were 100% tears of sadness, because although it hurt, him having to leave, I was also crying happy tears, because it hurt, he having to leave.

Emotions aren't something that I'm use to expressing.
I learned what joy was in those twelve days, I learned happiness, sadness, confusion, comfort, and serenity.

I'm still not comfortable expressing emotions out loud, but I at least know that I have them now, and that's progress for me.

I'd been a fairly stoic and slightly somber person for a majority of my life, not really being happy, but not sad either, but not between the two either, because I hadn't known either.

I really think he showed me what it means to be human, and that I'm on my way to becoming human.

--Carson

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Growth. 5/30/15

Shrug off the things that don't matter.  Want to know why? Because they don't matter, that's why.

Days can be hard, but that doesn't mean you have to worry about anything.

Think of the things you can change.
 Now don't worry about them, you CAN change them.

Think of the things you can't change.
Hey guess what, you CAN'T change them, so don't be concerned.

Okay, you're right, it's just not that simple.

Maybe it is though.  Imagine you're a week in the future, will it still be there?
There are, simplistically, only two answers to that.
Yes, it's still there, all right, so you need to find a way to cope with it, safely.
No, it's not here, well that's a good thing right? You're through the trouble, what's to dwell on?

All examples of what I've been telling myself recently.  I'd like to say it's starting to help, but I don't know for sure.  it's hard to say when so much in life is changing.

Perhaps, it's not changing, I am.

Actually, that's a good point.. Within the past few weeks I've done a fair amount of self exploration, sure, I've had some help, but all great explorers had some form of help.  If that was the people back home waiting to hear back, good or bad, they were behind the explorer, no matter what.

Now I know not all explorers make it back to their supporters, but I think I'm finally deciding I can make it back, that I actually want to make it back.

However, the journey back isn't all rainbows and sunshine, at least my journey back isn't.

My journey will be full of chaos, bad memories, maybe some anger, hopefully not, but maybe, and likely some tears.

But you know what?
I have people that want to see what I bring back, who I brought back.  I'd be crazy to think that I could go on an exploration and not change who I am.  It's natural.

People grow, they morph, they mold, they are impressionable.
I'm no different and quite frankly, neither are you.

I've grown, not in height, although that might be useful, no, instead my mind has grown.
Maybe one day I'll run out of space, doubtful, have you realized how much memory a brain has? No? Well it's a lot, like a lot a lot.

I've received some gifts from the locals, I'll let you figure that one out, one post at a time.

One thing, the knowledge that I do in fact want a family, I was born into a household, the only thing in common is the chemical make up of our body, and perhaps looks, I mean they did donate my chromosomes and genetic make up. I can't avoid that..

But you know what? Blood doesn't make a family, I don't agree with Webster on this one, "a group of related people including people who lived in the past."

Family as defined by me, is the people who care about you, those who you can be yourself around, your true self. Family means honesty, it means love, and playfulness.

Family is more than a group of people who didn't choose each other, through Webster's definition, family isn't a bond that was forged through fire and hard work, family is the results of paternity or maternity test to know your parents.

For me? Those parents aren't family.  They are strangers that I share a common ancestor with. I'm no more family to them than I would be to go to the nearest zoo and call the chimp my cousin.

That's not a thing.
So why do we call our blood elders family?
Because it's the norm.

I don't want to be normal.

My actual parents, or parent in this case, is an older gentleman who stepped up for two kids that needed to be reminded what love is. Donny.

He's great, when my brother and I were little, he would take us and pick us up from school,  no complaints.  He'd take us for a Friday snack, on a Tuesday or any other day, and Friday of course.

He took us to lunch at the local diner when we didn't have school, it didn't matter if it was elementary school or high school, even now in college he does when I'm home.

It was always a great day when I would get to sit in the tractor and mow hay all day with him.  Do you know how boring that is? I'd sit on the top of the wheel cover (inside the cab of the tractor) and hold onto the window latch and the armrest.  He'd make small talk with me, or sing to the radio (horribly, just like me) and we'd have hours pass, then we'd stop for the day and go home.

Donny is the type of old man, he's 87ish it's okay, to make little kid jokes. You know, the ones that are so terrible they're funny?
We'd be driving and a bug would hit the window, big enough that you knew when it hit and could see the juice on the window kind of bug.  Off handedly, he'd say," Bet he doesn't have the guts to do that again." and just keep looking ahead.

Once he gets a laugh out of you for a joke, it's not going away anytime soon, and that's perfectly okay.

Donny is the family member that you love to be around, he is the best adopted grandpa a kid could ask for.

Donny gave me the experiences that a parent should have, the sitting on the floor and playing with your toys with you in the evening experiences.
The ones that don't mean a thing, but mean the world at the time.

My mom and dad didn't really have time for that sort of stuff.  My mom was out of town a lot, and my dad was always on the farm or in his office, so I know a lot about experiences that don't mean a thing. That comprised my entire relationship with my parents, if you can even call it a relationship.

But, I wouldn't change it.  I wouldn't want a mom or a dad that did that, I want to be that mom some day, but if I had that, I wouldn't have had Donny, and he's one that I would not give up.

He shaped me into the woman I am today, and I have learned that all things considered, I'm a decent human being. No better or worse that the next person. And that's what matters.

So that family that I found out I do want some day, I want to be the Donny that I had, for my kids, I want to be the best that I can be. I don't want to skip out on the play times, or the afternoon snacks, like my parents did, I am going to fill the same gap Donny did.

A family, just like Webster defined, but with my definition added in. Who knows, my definition will surely change over time, but I have experiences that will help me learn exactly what family really means, even if I can't put it into words.

Take care.

P.S. Yeah, two posts about my grandpa, he is just that great, no blood relation needed.

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Houston, we have progress! 5/27/15

Today I learned a lot about myself, actually no, I realized things I thought I knew had changed.

Hopefully for the better.

The things I learned may have been for the better, but I can't say that didn't come with a cost.

For starters, I realized that my childhood really bothers me.  Sure you may have realized it before I did but that's okay, I'll catch up to you soon enough.

I like children and I use to think that I wanted a few, that I'd be good mom eventually.  Now, I'm not so sure that that's the case, I still think I'd be an okay mom, but I don't want kids.

What scares me into thinking that is that I don't want to make the same horrifying mistakes that my parents made.

To say that I haven't thought about making sure my parents mistakes end with me would be a lie.

As a child you pick up on your parent's skills, or lack there of. I've taken some time to analyze what I could have acquired as a kid and either I'll be the same brand of screwed up as my parents, or I'll make new mistakes on my own.

But one thing that lingers for me is that I may not realize everything that they, for lack of a better phrasing, sucked at.

I also learned how much I didn't realize was not normal, and wasn't appropriate.

It hurts to have people, licensed physicians, say that my parent's were abusive.  I find it hard to come to grasps that some of the things that were highly common occurrences in my childhood, and in some cases still occur now.

I don't know that I'll ever totally accept some of the things as abuse, even though if I were seeing them in someone else's life they totally would be, because it's how they showed love, no matter how messed up that sounds.

I think I may actually care about my parents.  Not in the normal sense though, I care about them in a sense as you care about the person who just walked past you on the sidewalk.  You want the best for them, but you won't check in with them every few days to make sure it happens, simply because it doesn't matter.

That stranger could die tomorrow and you not lose sleep over it, because you didn't know it happened, or know them.

I do know that I care for my grandpa, a lot.  He was and is the parent I needed.  From picking my brother and I up after school, taking us for Friday Shakes even if it wasn't Friday, to coming to dinner when I'm home and making sure that I get a hug from some one who cares.  He is a great man, I feel bad for leaving him behind, I really wish he could have came to college with me. That's unrealistic though..

One way I know he loves me, in an honest love, is that he has a picture from every year of school for both my brother and myself in his house.  Not only that, but they are proudly displayed all over his house.

From kindergarten to fourth grade, my elementary school had something called grandparents day, where the students would be on risers, and sing songs to their grandparents.  Although Donny isn't actually related, he didn't miss any of them.  He has those pictures around his house too.

In fourth grade we did a project called Flat Stanley, I sent mine to him along with a letter and he was suppose to carry it around for a week then mail him back with a letter of what they did together.

Donny went above and beyond with it, he had Stanley sit on a cow, help feed the dogs, all things that are silly, but just barely believable.

Instead of keeping Flat Stanley myself, I gave him back to Donny, displayed on a poster and with pictures and the letters on it.

That hangs in his kitchen.

It makes me feel better knowing that I didn't grow up alone.
He was always there for me, even when I didn't realize it.

That's how I first learned what love was.
That's also how I learned I didn't love my parents and they didn't love me.

That's probably enough off my shoulders for one day, I'm sure you'll read about more of it another time though.

Take care of yourselves.

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This House is Not a Home 5/17/15

I arrived in my hometown on Friday night, in about two hours I realized how ready to leave I was.
Not being able to leave until Monday morning, I don't know what to do.

Reasons why this is not my home:

1. The people (parents) are not my family.

Upon entering the house I was greeted by my cat, She was very loving and wanted cuddled.  Out of character for her, but I hadn't been home in about two months so it was expected.

My father was in the kitchen and said he was glad I was home for a while, and gave me a high five. Later on, while playing with my cat on the floor, he patted my head and gave me a high five again.

My mother was no where to be seen, not uncommon, and not unwelcome.  I was not ready to see her.  She made her appearance sooner that I would have liked, but we can't all have what we want.

During dinner they asked how my finals went, I responded with fine, not really wanting to delve into mind numbing conversation. End of dinner time conversation.

My father was done before my brother or I had made our plates, both parents remained at the table until we sat down.  They returned as we finished wanting to talk about mom's work day.

Quite frankly, I don't give a shit about how her day went.

2. I don't like it here.

You may say that's normal after leaving for college.  Perhaps it is, but I don't think that on the drive home I should be wondering how much conversation for the weekend I can get out of by taking naps with the cat.

Between that, and what kind of games I can play in my head to spend some time.

Summery of Saturday, being woken up by mom putting a cat in my bed.  Not my cat.  Being told to get up. Reading until my friends graduation at 2:30,  I miss him.

It's hard to miss someone you haven't met, but for me, the connect was formed and it's one that I want to keep.

Mom asked me to go to Walgreen's and the Library with her.  I told her no. She wasn't happy with me, shocker I'm sure.  Wanted to know why, and I told her I was watching a friend's graduation.  She decided to wait until it was over to go.

We went to more than just Walgreen's and the Library.  Got home 3 hours later, went to dinner with my brother, and we drove around for about two hours.

3. There's nothing to eat

This isn't a change though, even in high school there wasn't any food in the house.  I would actually prefer dorm food or even high school lunches to freezer meals that she buys from Walmart and tosses on the stove, claiming to have cooked dinner.

Junk food in the cabinets, and prepackaged foods in the refrigerator.  I haven't missed someone else doing the grocery shopping.

Had cereal for lunch and dinner today, Sunday, it's a good thing I like cereal.

4. There's no privacy, at all.

Thought maybe I'd change my clothes in my room before bed, instead of in the bathroom.  I shut the door, right as I went to undress, my door was opened with my mom bringing the cat in.

Tried to take a shower, she opened the door asking me to use her shower so she could wash the cat.

Neither time was there a knock.
There never is in this house.

5. My room is not my room

When my brother went to college, his room was his.  We didn't enter it for any reason.  Why should we have?

Now that I'm gone? Nah, it's a storage room, I have security cameras on my floor, paper and notes all over my desk,  because dad's desk is full.  I have shoes of my mom's, clothes that need to go to a thrift store, things that need returned.  No mine.

My mail that I received, on the floor next to my bed.

6. Too little too late

They are trying, mom wanted to watch a DVR with me, dad wanted to talk and watch the baseball game.

Oh yeah, because that's bonding time.

I don't like watching TV.

It's boring, mind numbing, just like any conversation with them.

There's no substance, and nothing to gain.

Pointless.

We never did things like this when I still lived here, can we go back to those times?
I don't like them pretending to be my friends.  They weren't around when I was under their roof, why should they get the chance to be around me when I'm not.

If I really wanted to see them, I'd have come home between Spring break and now.  If my lease stated right as my other ended, instead of having a few day lay over, I wouldn't be here.

___

They're pushing things, decisions, and themselves on me, and all I want to do is leave.

They may be blood related, but I can't change that.
Family is not the genes that make up your DNA, or the ones who raised you.
Family are those who act like it, who deserve to be around you and who you want around you.
___

Tomorrow when I leave, I won't have left anything behind, other than my cat. I'd take her if I could though, but she doesn't do well on car rides.


Maybe I can make something of the rest of today.
Might as well give it a shot.

Take care.

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Finals Week? 5/14/15

Sooo this finals week I had four finals.
Not horrible, but not the best.

 One was optional, I didn't take it. (Obviously?) It wouldn't have helped me so I'm not concerned.

But yeah, Computer science was a disappointment, I thought I could do better than I did.  Here is where you tell me to quit complaining, big whoop, it pulled me down to an A-, oh well.

Audio/Video went swell.  I ended up really enjoying that class. I wasn't really interested in the production side of film making, more along the lines of watching, but I think it's something I could get into.

I think I most enjoyed the animation however.  My roommate came to me and was needing to make a five minute video over her English paper and so we spent a few nights, around 23-25 hours, working on an animation about Eugenics.

Not a great topic, we're both highly sarcastic and off the wall people, add in hunger from late nights, and a lack of sleep because it was due the Tuesday of finals week and you get an odd combination.

Perhaps I'll post a link to the video on YouTube in the comments.

Econ I didn't take, I'm sure my parents would be thrilled to hear that.  They aren't too supportive of a majority of the things that I do theses days.  (Nothing a normalish young adult doesn't do) I had an A in the class, so since it couldn't help me I decided to spend my time helping a girl on my floor prepare for her econ final later in the week.

Oh, big news. I got an offer from my econ professor to be his TA (Teaching Assistant) over summer. It's for International Agribusiness, a course that sounds like it'll be fun, plus I'll get credit for it and I'm all for graduating early.

Tomorrow is my last final of this semester, biotechnology, that one should go all right.  The previous tests weren't terrible, but who knows with the final.

I've got a few things left to do before I head back to my parent's house for a few days.  Return a textbook, pick up my summer books, and finish packing to move to my apartment.

Before leaving though, my roommate and I are going to see Pitch Perfect 2. We're both moderately stoked for that.  We're using it as one last fun time before we have three months apart.

I'm glad she agreed to be one of my roommates next semester.
We didn't really know each other last fall, although having gone to the same school from Kindergarten to Senior year.  It worked out though.  I wouldn't change it a bit.



Other news, I may be getting a cat sooner than I thought.  My mother found one at her office and no one claimed it.  I'm not real sure though, she seems concerned with how much it will cost, and yes I know  that's something to ask about, but I know that I'd be in a better place with a cat around.

Relying on one for so much in high school was detrimental for me this year. I don't think I would be able to do it again if I had to.

My brother was considering moving to the city I attend college in, only for a part time, but still, it's pretty cool having your brother around.

I realized the other day that we may be too close to each other though.  I was looking through my call logs trying to find one from a few days back and saw that we'd called each other several times per day in the past few weeks.

That's insanity for two people who don't like talking on the phone.

I guess we have to do something since we don't talk to our parents about life things though.

Life things...

I don't think I should go too much in to "life things" this time, I'll probably update in the next few days though.

I've had a rough few weeks, typing everything out seems to make it just a bit better though.  Even just for a little while until I go back to the real world.

For whatever reason, it's comforting to know this is out here, and somewhat more comforting to know that should anyone ever find theses posts, they could have a glimpse into my world.  Maybe offer some advice, or maybe just keep reading, not even letting me know they're following along.

It doesn't matter though, if you are out there, you can keep hidden, I don't mind writing to an empty audience.  The doors are open, if someone walking by hears and continues  on, that's enough for me.

Take Care.

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Spring Break! Or was it? 4/6/15

As a freshman in college, spring break couldn't have come fast enough, well, it actually came too quickly. I didn't have any plans of going down south, partying it up on the beach, and having the time of my life.  That's not really my style, I prefer books, clouds, and some alone time to relax. (And I did just that, it was amazing.)

However, for my spring break, instead of doing the stereotypical things, I went to doctor appointments.

Bah-humbug.
One week off, and four appointments.

Three of the four went as expected, nothing to note and nothing to think about for later on.  The fourth though, left me with questions that are burning for answers.

Back story: I've had daily migraines for the past 5 years, they started my freshman year of high school, prior to that they were frequent, but not overly so. I also had them when I was a toddler, but not quite as bad. I've been to four (maybe five, I'm not real sure) neurologists.  None of them had any clue as to what was causing them, it's not that common for 24/7 migraines.

I've been through all types of medicines, prescription and otherwise, Botox, physical therapy, IV medications, chiropractor, massage therapist, everything.

For the record, it gets really irritating when someone says, "Oh have you tried tylenol? It works for me. I just take two pills when I feel one coming on and I'm good for the rest of the day." I'm sure it does, I know you're trying to be helpful but really? Have I tried tylenol? Nope, hadn't thought of that. Thanks for the advice though, maybe it'll help someone just like you.

My current neurologist decided I should talk to someone about them since they were such a large part of my life.  Over break I talked to her, we reviewed a test I had taken, the MMPI if you're curious, it was normal, well, not totally.

 There were signs of social introversion, but that didn't really surprise me. I'm introverted, I like being alone, I like silence, and most of all, I enjoy my own company and if I choose to let you join me while I'm having some of that time, it must be for a good reason, if that's trust, or just because I want to get to know you, that depends.

I'm not abnormal, I like being around people, just not all the time.

That wasn't all though, I tested high on lack of familial bonds (probably not the right term but that's what I can describe it as.)

We started talking and she asked if I thought this was true, I said yes.
Her next question was if I loved my mom and dad, I said no.
This shocked her, it really did.
I didn't feel bad about saying it though, and why should I if it is the truth?

We pretty much stayed on this topic for the remainder of the appointment, talking about if I loved anyone. I do, by the way, my brother is fantastic, I don't know what I'd do without him.  We have a great bond, ironically enough, we have the bond because of the parents.  Maybe 'because of' isn't the right term, more along the lines of 'in spite of'. I also love my adopted Grandpa, Donny, and some really close friends.

As we were talking, she asked me what I thought of my parents and why, I didn't have to think too long about my response, I've known it for a while now, accepted it even.  I don't respect my parents as people. Not in the rebellious definition, but that if I were an outsider looking in, I would have no respect for their person, not in their lives, nor in the way they carry themselves, and certainly not in how they treat other people.

You may be wondering why I, a 19 year old, says that.  How disrespectful of my elders, right? Well, maybe I am, but if you know my reasoning, I don't think you'd say that.

A few phrases I used to describe my mom (I hate calling her that, she was never a mom to me, I called her blood elder for a while, and Lady Friend. Those both went over well.) are that she is a mental manipulator, a person who refuses to put others first, a person who doesn't care about those around her.

 She is selfish, even in her child's eyes.

When I was five, she had a double bi-pass (open heart surgery) with a 99% blockage.  She'd known about it for about a week, kept going to work, pushing herself to get that last bit of work done before she had to take time off for a while.

Well, one day, her heart decided it'd had enough.  She was one heart attack away from death.  She stayed at work for a few more hours after her doctor told her  to get to the ER immediately.  It was Friday, time sheets were due and she is a supervisor for a lot of people.

Work came first.
She got to the hospital, and waited.
When the doctor saw her, he said that he needed to start surgery right away, or she may not live.
It would have been his sixth surgery that day, she decided to wait until the next day, my father agreed.
There were some complications over night, but she lived.
That morning, she had her surgery, and lived.

But to a five year old, being told your mom was going to wait and may not make it over night so you should say good byes and I love you's, isn't that she's taking care of herself by waiting.

It's that she didn't care if she died, that she'd been around you long enough.  It felt like she didn't care about my brother or I by making that choice.

Ever since then, I have felt that each "I love you" to her or my dad was forced.  Empty words that will never hold any value when directed to them.

The doctor asked if I thought that she and my father loved my brother and I, I think that they do in their own way.

The destructive comments through my childhood from my mom, didn't help emphasis that though:
 "Suck your belly in, it'll make your clothes fit better."-- I can't count how many times I heard this as a child, even now actually and I'm a Size 1-3 in Juniors.
"Why didn't you get this? Your brother did."-- well mom, because I'm not my brother.
"You're not doing 4 projects for sewing? You shouldn't have wasted so much time during your summer."--I'm a kid, sure I like sewing but not when it's forced.  I'd prefer to do zero over anything with you around.

I quickly started dreading being around her.

I was excited when she was going to be out of town for work again, there were a few years where she'd be gone three out of four weeks of the month for work, some of the happiest times of my childhood.

She'd leave for work at 7am, get home from work at 6pm, go down to walk until 7:30, then we'd have dinner around 8pm, go to bed around 9:30-10. Repeat.

My dad? He was just as consumed with work.  Still is, he doesn't know how or when to quit working.  I guess that's what the two of them have in common really.

He has an office in our house.  The only times he isn't there is when he is watching TV in the other room, where kids really weren't wanted. Checking cattle, or when he was eating. We never did anything besides cattle shows together.  Even that was forced, I didn't want to do it, my brother didn't want to do it.

But we had to, our father was living vicariously though us.
That in itself repulses me.
He repulses me.

To close up that rant with a diagnosis from the doctor, emotional neglect as a child. Not the technical term of course.  She determined that when I was five, I built a shell around myself for protection, because of what I experienced.  That I grew up, provided and protected myself and my brother. Most of all, that I couldn't have done any better, it was needed, that my response was ideal, the only thing I could have done.

And my migraines, are because of the mental wear it has caused in the past 14 years of keeping that up.  It was in keeping my brainwaves in a certain way, that made the pain threshold lower than normal. She used a pair of sunglasses with a blue flashing light that would flash at the peak of the brainwave, to change it to normal brainwaves.

It helped, a lot.

She talked to me about how I could talk to the five year old still inside me, needing attention, needing to feel loved, needing to feel worthy of life.  Although I felt perfectly relaxed, I started crying, and I couldn't stop.  It was as if the tears weren't mine.  I didn't even feel like crying. I guess in a way, they weren't my tears, they were that five year old inside me's.  She was finally getting to talk, to express herself, because the doctor and I would listen to her.

I was advised to take up self parenting, nurturing the child inside me, stopping to look at the flowers, jump in a puddle, doing things that five year old me liked to do but would have gotten scolded for.

Also, to write an angry letter to each of my parents, explaining what they put me though, how much I detested being around them, and to let my five year old write part of it, to let her chime in on things that I may have forgotten.

To let go.
To be me.
To get out of the situation.

In a way, I started planning that when I was in high school.
I realized then, that I could never see  them again and it wouldn't bother me, and it won't.


--Carson

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Life's Ponderings 2/22/15

I thought it'd get better, I really did.  I'm on my second semester of college and I still don't want to be here...

All I hear is that going to college is what you have to do.  Well, maybe I don't have to, as children we are told that we can do whatever we want when we grow up, when does that start?

Sure, I get good grades a 4.0 last semester, my parents are proud of me, but I'm not.  I think that college is pointless, so I don't try.  I didn't apply myself at all last semester, I just did enough to get by actually.  

So why can't I keep doing that if it's so easy? Because it's a waste of my time. I didn't want to go to college when I applied, it was just expected that I would.  

I'm a double major, Informational Technology and Agricultural Economics.  I have a grad plan figured out for both majors, I'm trying to do this.  Every day it gets harder to get out of bed and "into the grind."

In high school I realized that I didn't want to work for people, I didn't want to work in an office, and I did not want to work a 9-5 shift for 40+ years of my life.  That's not living.

Last semester I realized one of the main reasons that I dislike college.  Parents, advisers, teachers, everyone, tells you to go to college, get a good job, make a lot of money, you'll be happy. They say that you can make what you do unique.  How can you make college unique when everyone picks a degree on a multiple choice form, takes the same base classes, and has a limited selection of electives?

We go to college not to become individuals, but to be taught how to conform, how to listen to what people say is how something is done, and not break that mold that we've been crammed into for the past 12 years of our education.  

If you don't work towards your own dream, someone will hire you to work towards theirs.  How does society expect to continue to grow when everyone is told to do the same things? Most employers look for the same things, and if you don't have them, you're out.  That's not how innovation works though, with innovation, you fail, you get back up, and try again, granted, you'll probably fail a few more times, but eventually, you won't and you'll be better off for your failures.

I don't want to be convinced to stay in college, get good grades, graduate, get a job, etc. because my brother did that.  Four years ago, he was in my position but stuck with it, he hates himself for not standing up for what he thought was what he needed to do.  

He listened to our parents instead, now he's encouraging me to leave.

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