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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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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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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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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