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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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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