I Haven't Found a Drop of Life

I have to say that I don't particularly enjoy this time of year very much. The weather is cold and dreary and it gets dark out at 5pm. Things to do are pretty limited because its freezing out..and I mean freezing literally. The highest temperatures the past few weeks have been in the teens. Also, it is the beginning of an entire year and while that year goes by quickly, I don't feel the speed of time passing by until a few months in.

So right now, I've been feeling anxious. Like I'm waiting for something to happen but not enough time has gone by yet. I don't know if I'm waiting for warmer weather or for motivation or what, but I feel like I'm at a stand still. When I picture this year in my head, I see myself having so much fun but we are already 2 months in and nothing has happened. For some reason, I just feel lost and like something is missing.

Someone once said "the two most important days in your life are the day you were born and the day you find out why." I guess I have yet to experience the second most important day of my life...

Title post is from "Addict with a Pen" by Twenty One Pilots

After My Blood Turns Into Alcohol

The mood to write strikes when I feel down and out. At this point, I don't think it matters because I don't think anybody reads this blog anymore anyway.

There are so many exciting and life changing things that will be happening in the next few weeks and while I do feel excited and happy, I am also sad and depressed. I'm scared of change, I'm scared that I don't know what I'm doing, that I wont be ready for these changes, that I'll fail in my new role. There is so much uncertainty about everything that's gonna happen  and I cant find a source of comfort or an anchor to root me in this chaos. I have never thought it possible to feel so lonely amidst so much loving and caring people that surround me. I continue to seek the support and approval of the one person who will not give it to me.

At this point, I am doubting things and it's all stacking up. I wish I could just find some stability, some relief, something familiar, something that will let me know it will all be okay. I search and search and have no clue what I'm looking for. All I know is I have yet to find it. When will I feel like I will be okay?

I feel like I have lost so much in the past year and I'm still grieving what I thought my life was gonna be like. What I wanted my life to be like, what I EXPECTED my life to be like. At what point will I accept that nothing is like it was? At what point will I be okay with the fact that things wont ever be the same? Do I have to lose myself in the process of accepting change and adapting? Or do I become a different person? Or do I simply live in a perpetual state of nostalgia? I have so many questions and don't know where to begin to find the answers I need.



Title of post is from "Give Me Love" by Ed Sheeran

I'm Half Alive But Feel Mostly Dead

Today I feel so sad that I have to write about it in order to let some of this sadness go.

I've been watching a lot of wedding shows on TLC and WEtv. Not only are they entertaining but I like to see what other people are doing in their weddings or what kind of wedding dresses people are buying, etc. After several marathons the past few weeks, I noticed a trend: every single person chosen for all these shows (Say Yes to the Dress, Four Weddings, My Fair Wedding with David Tuttera, etc) has so much love and support in their lives. I mean these women bring a crowd of people with them just to select a wedding dress. Every single person cries when she chooses the right dress. The mom is so proud of the daughter and the father is so happy, etc. They have nothing but nice things to say about the bride and how deserving she is of everything she is getting.

What the fuck? Is this real life? I've come to the conclusion that either people like me dont get married or these television networks dont select people like me or with similar stories to go on TV. I have never seen a bride on any of these shows that I could relate to and it makes me sad because I start to realize that my wedding experience has been far from fairy tale worthy so far. As a matter of fact, nothing in my life has ever been fairy tale worthy and it just makes me wonder why?

My wedding is planned on the tightest and lowest of budgets. I am getting no financial help or support for this from anyone. It is all coming out of the money I have saved for years and once that is used up, the rest will be paid by credit cards. My mom didnt go with me to pick out my wedding dress and when I tried it on for her, she didnt cry with joy at all. She hates my dress and tried to convince me to get a different one. Now I question my dress and wonder if it's even right for me. I feel like I'm settling because the price was affordable and so far  I've had to settle for so many things simply because I cant afford what I really want.

Perhaps the saddest part of this all, is that my father will not be attending my wedding. Not because he cant, but because he doesnt want to. He gave me every excuse in the book and when I refuted each excuse with a valid point, he flat out told me he refused to come. I've held on to that news for a little while now and had to release it before it consumed me. So I will not have my father give me away at my wedding and I will not have a father/daughter dance. My father will not tear up as I say my vows, he will not beam with pride and he will not think I am the most beautiful bride.

 I will walk myself down the aisle. I will give myself away.

This all just makes me wonder what all those other girls have that I dont? Why do they get unconditional love and support? Why do they get unlimited budgets to select their dresses and to prepare their wedding? Why do they get to live out their dreams and I dont? It all makes me feel so inadequate and miserable.

I dont want to seem like I dont appreciate the support I have gotten so far, because I really and truly do. There have been many, many people that have been there for me thus far and my gratitude cannot be expressed in words. They have kept me going so far. I guess the problem is that I still have not gotten the support I need the most, the support I have seeked for years, the support that will sustain me,

the support from my father.

Title of post from "You Were Meant For Me" by Jewel

A Song For You

Am I the only one who tears up every time I hear an Amy Winehouse song? I literally tear up every time.

RIP Amy Jade Winehouse

The one I have the hardest time listening to is her cover of "A Song for You." It's been covered by dozens of artists before her because it is lyrically a beautiful song. She recorded this cover in one sitting in her own home. The session wasnt planned but they say she was emotionally attached to this song and basically wept through the entire recording.

You can definitely hear and feel her emotions while listening to the song. Ultimately, this cover is gut wrenchingly beautiful. In it's own rustic way, it is truly touching and emotionally charged. It brings me to tears every time I hear it. There is one particular part that really hits me hard. She says:

"And when my life is over

Remember, remember, remember

When we were together

And I was singing this song for you"

This song has been deemed her unofficial suicide note and many people think this is why she was so emotional while recording it. It definitely feels like a goodbye to her fans and loved ones and it brings a sense of closure to her posthumous album.

At the end of the song, she talks about Donnie Hathaway, who recorded the most popular cover of this song and who was her all time favorist artist. She says: "Donnie Hathaway...it was like he couldnt contain himself. He had something in him you know." If only she knew that many of us fans felt and still feel that way about her...

I Still Dont Know What I Stand For

I've been in a funk lately. Let's just say that I have not been very pleasant to be around. After much analysis, and a laundry list of factors that contribute to my mood, I have come to the realization that I make no effort whatsoever to be happy.

I dont know what has given me the impression that happiness just walks in through my front door with no invitation needed. I never seemed to notice that happy people actually work at being happy. To me, it seemed like it was something they were born with and just came naturally to them. And while I do think there are naturally happy people out there, being consistently happy requires work.

I do NOTHING to make myself happy. In fact, I realize I do things that intentionally sabotage my happiness. For example, I have never regretted spending time with friends and yet I find myself constantly turning down invitations to meet up for lunch or to go watch a movie. Why? So I can wallow in loneliness at home? So I can complain about how I never seem to do anything fun? So I can give myself more time to think and analyze myself to death?

I dont really know why I do it. I could argue that being miserable does not require any effort on my part and therefore it is easier to be unhappy, but I would be wrong. Being unhappy requires just as much effort as its counterpart does. Just like you would chose to do things that make you happy, you choose to do things that make you unhappy.

I beleive that, innately, I am an unhappy person. My life has not been filled with things that make the average person innately happy. I did not have a conventional childhood, I did not have loving, supporting, normal parents, I did not do the average things children do in their youth. I didnt get to experience being carefree, or traveling, or playing or even doing the things I wanted to do without worry. I have been responsible my whole life. I have done "the right thing" my whole life... even when the right thing isnt what I really want to do.  Responsibility is all I know. It is what I am comfortable and familiar with. Responsibility doesnt have risks or consequences...there is no fear related to it. And that is the root of my problems.

I dont ever do what I want. I dont ever do what I think is gonna make me happy. I always do what is expected of me. I was expected to be a good student, so I was. I was expected to go college, get a job, be an adult, so I did all those things. Did I really want to do them? I'm not sure. At some point in my life I thought I did. Maybe at some point in my life, I did want to do these things but I am certain that I no longer feel that way. I no longer beleive that any of the things I have accomplished with my life were what I really wanted.

Thinking back, the things I have always really wanted to do have risks attached to them. I've always wanted to write a book, to travel the world, to open up a little coffee shop, but all these things have risks and risk is something I am not comfortable with. In fact, I was taught to avoid them at all costs. Now I see why I feel so little reward from my accomplishments. I have taken no risks. Just like they say the higher the risks, the higher the rewards, I am living proof that the lower the risks, the lower the rewards. At this point in my life, am I too old to start taking risks? How do I walk away from almost 26 years of responsibility? How do I make myself comfortable with doing things that might not be "right" or "responsible?"

I realize my life is not a movie where things always work out in the end. I know this is reality and that the risks I take wont always be rewarding, they will also have consequences. So it comes down to whether I choose to continue living safely or choose to live wildly. If I chose safety, I know things will turn out fine because they are fine now, but I also know I will lose the opportunity that have really lived my life and I could end up regretting it since I will never get it back. If I chose wild, I face the possibility of losing everything I have worked hard for but in my journey to "live" I might stumble upon what truly makes me happy.

Is the mere possibility of finding happiness worth facing the risk of losing the stability I have built? Is being stable worth more than living vs merely existing?

I do not know...I truly do not know.

Title of post is "Some Nights" by fun. Pretty fitting huh?

The Most Beautiful Song of All Time

When I was a little girl, my parents listened to a very famous and very talented singer/poet named Juan Luis Guerra. If you mention him to any Dominican person, they know exactly who he is. He is like the Bob Dylan/Bruce Springsteen of Dominican Republic.

Basically, Juan Luis Guerra turns his poems into music. So his songs are not only pleasant to the ear but they are also lyrically beautiful. I am in constant search of artists that are exceptional writers. To me, lyrics are more important that the sound of the artist. There are a lot of people out there that sing fantastically but to be able to both write and sing well is rare.

With that said, I was listening to some old Spanish songs I grew up with. One of them is a Juan Luis Guerra song called "Burbujas de Amor." I have to say that this has to be the most beautiful love song ever written. The imagery expressed in this song is out of this world. The meaning get lost in the translation into English but basically he discusses how he wishes he was a fish that would forever be wet with this love he feels for a woman. He would touch his nose to his fish tank and make love bubbles all over the tank. He would make silhouettes of love under the moonlight and he talks about how just the sound of her voice makes him weak. It all sounds so strange in English, but I guarantee you ask any Spanish person and they will understand.

In any case, I have never heard a more beautiful metaphor for love. It stirred up a lot of memories and I was overcome with nostalgia about the past and my childhood. I dont often think about my childhood, but this song took me right back and man did I break down. I had such a strong connection to my past through this song that I could have sworn I was 8 years old again. I remembered my parents listening to this song, I remembered when I first heard it. I remembered how simple life was during that time.

Mostly, I remember my dad and I cried like a baby because I realized how much I miss him. I would do anything to have my dad back. Remembering how he used to be really opened my eyes to how much he has changed and this realization has left me helplessly broken. 

Too Young to Die But Old Is The Grave

I have kind of been neglecting this blog for a bit. There are some serious issues that I have been dealing with that have really made me struggle to hold onto who I am as an individual, a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, a friend, and simply as a human being.

Over the past few months, my family and myself have noticed significant changes in my father. My father was the type of man that enjoyed simple things. Spending an entire weekend eating, drinking wine and watching movie marathons on the SciFi channel would be a perfect weekend for him. There was nothing that he loved more than having a few drinks, creating new mixed drinks, or sharing a whole bottle of any type of liquor with people. As of recent months, my father no longer drinks any alcohol, not even wine. There aren't even any liquor bottles in my parents house. He no longer eats, he no longer sleeps and he no longer watches television. At all.

He is a completely different man

He has also been stuck on the idea that my mother is having an affair (well, several affairs now). At first, we thought he was being a typical jealous Dominican man. Jealousy runs in Latin men's blood since they are raised to believe a woman should stay home tending to her husband's every need (holds back vomit.) However, things kept taking a turn for the worse. He would accuse my mother of sleeping with any and every man we knew. He even accused her of sleeping with family friends that were women! He accused her of poisoning his food, of performing voodoo on him, putting sleeping pills in his drink, dressing provocatively, cheating with her doctors, her co-workers, her co workers husbands, her friends husbands and pretty much anyone that came to his mind.

All the while during his accusations, he was unable to produce a single piece of evidence. No phone calls, no voice mails, no sightings, no pictures, no text messages, no comparisons, no motives, no nothing. He would follow her, watch her, even hired someone to follow her, took her cell phone, and did several things that would have led him to find SOMETHING, anything...but he still produced nothing. And since he has been unable to produce evidence, he started saying that my mother placed a spell on him to blind him from seeing/finding evidence. She had a spell put on herself to protect her while she is out and about fornicating with several men and women. He became paranoid about everything and everyone. He would ask a question and you would answer him and then 5 minutes later he would ask the same question in a different manner to see if you would give him a different answer so he can try to catch you in a lie. He became a man obsessed, a man on a mission to catch my mother in an act that she wasn't even doing.

My father even went as far as saying that my mother belongs to a cult where women meet once a week to devise plans on how to control their husbands so they could go around whoring themselves out. This cult would send subliminal messages through the phone to people they wanted to influence and this is also how they would "prey" on the men that they wanted to sleep with. Mind you, my father is a very intelligent, scientific and highly educated man who got a Master's degree in Mathematics.

Wait, it gets worse...

This whole time all these things are going on, we had an idea that something was not right with him. We knew something was going on, but couldn't figure out what. We chalked it up to a mid life crisis and perhaps a nervous breakdown, but he just kept getting worse and worse. We started to notice these changes I spoke about in his behavior. We would also notice that he would suddenly break down in tears often. He would also threaten to disappear from our lives, threatened suicide when nobody believed him, and he would sometimes regress to child like behaviors and patterns.

Even with all of these somewhat clear signs, I still had a thought in the back of my mind that maybe he was right about everything. Maybe there were things that we just weren't seeing and weren't catching on to. Maybe, since he was obsessed, he noticed things we didn't. So I started to watch my mother's every move, watched the way she spoke, her behavior, analysed her words, dissected them, read into every line, noticed how she dressed, how she walked, how she moved. I watched every single detail my brain was capable of processing. I found nothing different, nothing that seemed like strange behavior from my mother, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to lead me to believe that my father was right.

Then earlier this week, my father called me with something that made me realize that he was in serious need of help. I realized this was not normal jealousy or a mid life crisis or a nervous breakdown as we previously thought. My father had a mental problem...something way more serious than I ever imagined. Earlier this week, he called me and told me that he had discovered something that would seal the deal and convince everyone of my mother's "infidelity." He told me he was more than 100% sure of this news and he would lay his neck on the line to show he was right. He spoke with such conviction that I believed him before he even told me what it was. He went on to say that he was certain that my mother was sleeping with my fiancee, Victor, and with my sister's boyfriend, Stephen, who lives in the basement with my sister and her kids.

My heart literally came out of my ass at this point

It was right then and there that I knew he was not in tune with reality and he was not mentally well. I did some research on the Internet and looked up all his symptoms (delusions, paranoia, etc) and I discovered that there is a disorder called delusional disorder. There are 6 types of delusions, and one of them is jealousy where the person is convinced their spouse is cheating on them.

This disorder is a psychotic mental disorder where a person believes a delusion that could be possible and plausible, but is certainly not true. People with this disorder lead high functioning normal lives and don't really exhibit bizarre behaviors other than the delusions. These delusions can also be linked to other psychotic disorders, such as bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. The symptoms of this disorder, along with everything else associated with it, describes my father to a T. I have no doubt in my mind that he is suffering from this...no doubt at all.

People who suffer from delusional disorder often fall victims to depression and anxiety and suffer from this chronically and often for the rest of their lives. The only way to manage this is through drug therapy, where the patient is prescribed anti-psychotic medication, and through psychotherapy. However, most patients do not seek any help since they strongly believe that they do not have any type of psychological problem. My father, of course, is one of these people. He does not think there is anything wrong with him and he swears he will find evidence soon.

My family and I all went to see a family therapist yesterday (my father refused to attend) and we told him everything that was going on. He agreed with my diagnosis of delusional disorder and also told us that it sounds like my father might be suffering from a mix of mental disorders such as depression and schizophrenia.

I have no words to describe how that information made me feel...no words at all

We devised a plan to trick my father into coming to see this therapist. I don't know if it's gonna work and I don't know what to do if it doesn't. At this point, this is one of those things that my psyche cannot process. I feel like I am watching a movie and I am just waiting for it to end so I can leave the theater and go back to my normal life.

Title post is "The Bucket" by Kings of Leon

Journey

Then I am neither free, nor happy but I am willing to do whatever it takes to get there...

pic is from twentythree :

Not So Happy New Year

I purposely chose not to do a 2010 recap. I have several reasons for it but it is mostly because I have not been feeling well emotionally and mentally. I have been in a funk and I cannot seem to find a light.

A lot of great things happened in 2010 and I am very grateful for all the little things that make life worth living. However, a lot of unnecessary drama occurred the last two weeks of the year that have made me bitter. I have had much worse years in my life but I have also had much better years.

I know that I should not start 2011 on such a bitter note but I cannot help it. I need some time to come to terms with things and find a way to swim. I have so many things to be upset about but I also have so many things to be happy about. In the spirit of being cliche, I do have a very short list of goals that I want to accomplish for 2011. Here they are:

1. Find physical, mental and emotional well being--
-meaning lose weight, stop being miserable, and just generally smile more often. I also want to take better care of my skin and my hair, take vitamins, use good quality, organic products like soap, lotion, start using make up. I want to generally improve my outer appearance as well as my inner one.

2. Take more risks--
-do the things I hold myself back from because I am not comfortable or because I am scared

3. Live for myself--
-stop putting others first and focus on myself and my needs. I have learned that nobody else is gonna put me first but me.

4. Find happiness in my career...or find another career--
-self explanatory...I hate my job

5. Accomplish one life long, unrealistic dream, big or small--
-I want to convince myself that dreams do come true, no matter how ridiculous they may seem

I look forward to putting 2010 behind and moving on. I want this to be the year where things finally start to make sense for me. I want this to be the year where I can finally say I am happy.

I Should Have Known, I Should Have Known

I have a guilty pleasure that I am going to confess. I have come to terms with it and I am no longer ashamed of it. Here it goes:

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE TAYLOR SWIFT!!

There! I said it and I wont take it back because it's true. I love Taylor Swift. I think she is amazing. She is an excellent role model to young girls and she seems so genuine and authentic. She writes all her songs and you can tell they are personal to her by the way she sings them. Not only that, but the lyrics are pretty damn good for someone so young. Even though she is considered a country singer, I really enjoy her songs. She still has innocence and has not been jaded completely by the world yet, but at the same time, she knows a thing or two about life.


Right now her song "White Horse" is stuck in my head. The chorus of this song really hit me:

"I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet,
Lead her up the stairwell
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town,
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down
Now it's too late for you
And your white horse, to come around"

I don't think she will ever know how deeply those lyrics affected me. One of my biggest flaws is that deep down, I am a dreamer. I used to believe in fairy tales, I used to think that movies were based off real life but damn Taylor said it so well with this chorus. Life is not a fairy tale and we are not in Hollywood. I was once dreamer but I've been let down so many times already that I refuse to do it anymore. Dreaming has only gotten me hurt.

This was a much needed wake up call and sadly enough, I am resigned to be bitter the rest of my life.

Wasted Time and Broken Dreams

In an attempt to get out of my "back to work" funk, I put up a mini Christmas tree in my office cubicle. (See pic on the left) I thought it would cheer me up and get me into the holiday spirit at work, but it did just the opposite. It looks like the saddest tree to ever exist. Every time I look at it, I get more depressed. The picture makes it look worse than in person...and that depresses me even more.

I couldn't sleep last night. I kept thinking about my father. I have had a pretty volatile relationship with him but we have gotten along well the past few years. Actually, we have gotten along ever since I moved out of my parents house a few years ago. When I was younger and dumb, I resented my father for many reasons. I didn't agree with the way I was being raised and I didn't agree with his beliefs. Now that I am older, I understand that he was just trying to protect me and had my best interest at heart, even though it didn't really work the way he thought it would.

I have come to realize that my father is a good man. He has a good heart and wants what is best for everyone but he does not know how to express it. My father seems like he is full of anger but it's because that is the only emotion he is comfortable expressing. He has no filter from brain to mouth and will just blurt out what he is thinking. He comes across as an ogre and he can be very hurtful with his words. He can often be demeaning and spiteful with what he says and sometimes he can be considered verbally abusive.

I spent the night analysing him and trying to understand where his anger is rooted. In my analysis, I realized that my father is a very insecure person. He has many complexes and he cares so much about what others think about him. I think my father has spent his whole life waiting for his own father to show pride in him and approve of him, but my grandfather died and never got around to show him. He will never know if his own father was proud of him. He doesn't feel validated or important because the only approval he ever seeked was never given to him. So he walks around making himself out to be an important, powerful person knowing he is not and I guess that his insecurity makes him angry.

My father is also a very highly intelligent person. He is definitely one of those people that is so smart, they are borderline mental. He has so many theories of why things happen and has many paranoid thoughts, he thinks everyone is out to get him. He hates capitalism, hates the government, hates religions, celebrations, etc. There is always a conspiracy theory behind everything and I think its to make up for what he believes are his failures. His paranoia is an excuse.

I noticed and figured out so many things about him last night, but there was only one thing that affected me. I realized that my father is a very, very unhappy man. He drinks his sorrows away and finds solace at the bottom of an empty bottle. I think he expected to be someone else and is disappointed. I think he had a vision of what he wanted his life to be like and it isn't that. He thought he would be a millionaire by now. His life consists of things that he cant find happiness in and he has resigned himself to that. He isn't drinking to relax and wind down like most do, he is drinking to die. He once told me that the reason he drinks so much is to forget. At the time, I was young and didn't understand what he was trying to forget but I understand it now.

He is drinking to forget his unhappiness, his insecurities, his failures, his misery, his mistakes, his complexes, his unfulfilled desires, his lack of recognition...he is drinking to forget his existence. My father is a very unhappy man and has been for quite some time.

Realizing this kills me and the child in me is thinking it's my fault. Maybe if I would have behaved better...or maybe if I wouldn't have argued so much with him, maybe if I would have focused more on school, maybe if I would have become a doctor or went to a better school, or maybe if I would have stayed living at home...so many maybes. The adult in me knows that it's nothing that I did, that it's not my fault but I cant help but think that I have failed him.

It is a continuous struggle to balance what I give to my father and what he takes from me. My father has let me down more times than I can count. He has taken more than he gives. I have had to lower my expectations of him as a father in order to never be let down again, but what if he has had to do the same of me as his daughter? Should I give more of myself and continue to expect nothing in return? Do I stop trying to make him happy? Do I work harder to please him? I am so torn. I don't want to lose myself in trying to make him happy if he has resigned to his misery but I also don't want to feel like I gave up on him.

My father seems like an arrogant, angry, insecure, old fashioned, alcoholic ogre but in reality he is a lost little boy whose dreams never came true and no matter what happens and no matter how much he continues to hurt me, I forgive him. I know he will never apologize to me but I'm ok with that because I will continue to forgive him. He is not perfect, but he is my father and nothing will ever change that.

Title post from "These Days" by The Black Keys

Mr. Magic

I received the 1 1/2'' Chi Flat iron as a gift for Christmas about 4 years ago. I have never been more pleased with a product as I have been with my Chi. I call it The Magic Wand. It works miracles for my curly hair. I usually blowdry it and its all puffy and crispy but one swipe of the Chi and my hair is shiny, silky, smooth and straight.

For the past 4 years, I have used my Chi at LEAST once a week since I do my hair weekly. There are some weeks where it gets used everyday that week because my hair isnt cooperating or because its humid out. The Chi goes up past 300 degrees farenheit, so my hair has no choice but to look beautiful. Also, I find that there is very minimal burning since the plates are ceramic. I even used it to creat loose curls the ends of my hair last week and it worked pretty well. Like I said, my Magic Wand has never let me down.

For 4 years, it has provided me with wonderful results. For 4 years, it has never given me any issues. For 4 years, I have trusted and confided in my Magic Wand. But I think it has started to give up on me. This Sunday, it did not want to turn on. I had to plug it into several outlets and press the red "reset" button several times before it worked. My baby is dying on me....

I am so scared to burn it out that I have not turned it back on again. The radiators come on at night since it is getting colder. This causes the temperature in my bedroom to skyrocket to 100 degrees so I sweat in my sleep and that causes my hair to wave. When I woke up this morning, I did not dare turn on the wand to fix my waved hair. I am scared that it wont turn back on for me. I am not ready to let this iron go. I cannot accept that last Sunday would have been the last time to use my wand. I didnt get to properly say goodbye.

I know that I can just replace it with another Chi, but these things are expensive. They run anywhere from $150 to $200 depending on the size and where you get them. I dont have that money right now. Also, I dont want to part with the one I have. We have a history together. We have been through countless summers and winters; springs and falls. It got me through college, it helped my hair for my first day of work at IBM, it has moved with me from apartment to apartment, it gives me the confidence I need when I feel I look hideous and only my hair can save me.

I realize that I have an unhealthy attachment and that there are more important things to worry about in this world, but in the midst of my drowning, I choose to worry about this. It's a simple, unimportant worry. I can't worry about anything bigger at this moment so this is where I am directing my stress. So I ask, what is a girl to do now?

Doubts Are All I've Got To Call Mine...

Life has been pretty consistent lately. All the usuals: slaving at work, starting a "diet" every week, family arguements, spending money i dont have, drinking, putting off laundry and dishes, making shitty meals, lamenting my career choice, Family Guy, Lifetime weekends, and it goes on and on....

I am thinking about joining a kickboxing class that they offer in some health center 1o minutes from where I live. Right now they are offering 3 sessions for $20. I guess you can decide if you want to join after that. I'm nervous about this.

First, I dont know how much the total price will be. Second, I dont have the courage to do this class by myself. I am utterly embarrassed and ashamed. What if I am too fat to keep up and end up passing out? I wont know anybody that can buffer my insecurities. Lastly, will I have the energy to go to these classes? They are 1 hr sessions and there are classes offered 6 times a week. I was thinking about going 2 to 3 times a week, but work takes so much out of me. It is very difficult to work an entire day at a job that you hate and makes you miserable. Misery requires a lot of energy, you know.

I guess I have to find some sort of inner motivation deep, DEEP within myself. I just saw a picture of myself on Facebook that a friend of mine tagged me in. It is a very recent pic of me, taken last Sat 10/16/2010. You cant really see any of my body, just my chest and some of my arms but I look horrifying. I look swollen and pregnant and like a massive, ginormous killer whale that breeded with an elephant on steroids whose children then breeded with an extra,large hippo that had an affair with the mother of all cows and conceived an illegitimate bastard combination child with terrible genes and that was destined to be obese no matter what they did. Yes, I look that bad...

The thing that kills me...absolutely kills me...is that I thought I looked good that night. I actually thought I looked pretty and that I had succeeded in looking like I know how to apply makeup and like my outfit was somewhat fashionable and I had matching accessories. I even attempted to give my hair some life by curling the ends. It just resulted in me looking like a fat wannabe with a bad makeup job and flat hair. I walked around with confidence that night, thinking I was turning heads and shit, but boy was I wrong. I was so embarrassed my heart sank when I saw these pictures and I wanted to cry.

I know there are people that are gonna tell me that I looked great and blah blah blah but nothing anybody can say will change my mind. It's great if others view me a certain way, but that doesnt make a difference to me because that is not the way I view myself. I am just so sick of being disappointed in the way I look.

I am sick and tired of being unhappy in every way. I am just so lost. I dont know where to turn or what to do. The only way I see myself being happy is if I never look at another mirror or ever allow myself to think every again. Clearly, neither is possible so I need a sign or some guidance or something, ANYTHING to make me see the light.


Title of post is from "Duality" by Bayside

Words They Come and Memories All Repeat

This is my 100th post since I started this little blog almost a year ago. I dont know if that is a lot or not enough but I guess it doesnt matter because I dont post things for anyone in particular. This blog was created for myself so that I can have a place to keep my thoughts organized and so that I can go back to a certain time and see what I was going through and who I was at that moment. I am glad I started this because I really have an insight of how my year has gone so far. This has been a great way to analyze myself, more than I already do.

Since it is my 100th post, I will keep things positive and I have a small recap. I have been slightly better. I am no longer drowning in my darkness. It looks like the change I thought was going to happen in my life, will not and I am glad to have that piece of consistency at the moment. I dont think I was ready to give it up like I had convinced myself.

I also got my car back Monday night which is a huge part of me feeling better. I no longer feel so trapped...even though the only place I have been driving is to and from work. I guess the fact that I dont have to depend on a train schedule any more is what makes me feel better. My car looks good and is running just the same. I didnt end up paying the $500 cash because the mechanic that fixed it knows my father and he said it was ok to just give him the insurance money. The repairs totaled $4,165 including my $500, so the mechanic got $3,665 altogether.

Another reason I am feeling better is because the weather has finally cooled down. Eventhough its been raining every day, the days that are sunny are truly spectacular. As I have said many times, this is my favorite time of year. I was ready for summer to end. I am sorrounding myself in pumpkin, cinnamon and spice for the next few months.

Lastly, I have a lot to be thankful for. My apartment is clean, my fridge is full, my hair has been extra soft lately, my family is all healthy, I have a list of new bands to check out, I gave love another chance, and somehow in the midst of all my darkness, I always ALWAYS end up swimming again.

Title of Post is "The Background" by Third Eye Blind-so fitting for me right now

You Are My Sweetest Downfall

I need a change. I want to do something to my hair. Dye it or cut it but I dont know what and I'm scared to do anything I wont like but I'm sick of the same shit.

In other news, I wont be continuing my dance classes for October. I dont think I will have the time to get there even once a week. Work is going to get very busy that month since I have to go through a yearly audit for one of my sectors. I was told that I should plan to work later until mid November. Late as in 8 or 9pm every day. At this point, suicide is certainly looking mighty fine.

I need a reason to want to wake up in the morning and at the moment I have none. I need a good book to get lost in. A good movie to lose myself in. Anything that will remove me from my reality. I find myself wishing that I was drunk the majority of the time that I am conscious and the cigarettes I am smoking are increasing daily.

I miss my car. I miss having the freedom of just driving somewhere and not depending on the schedule of a train or bus. I hate not having a way to get places and I hate the fact that its been raining for the past 3 days. My hair looks like shit and that's exactly what I feel like.

I have been wanting to take a long walk and just think and think and think until my brain begs me to shut down. I want to walk until my legs buckle...until I reach the point where exhaustion overwhelms me and I fall asleep as soon as my head touches the pillow. I want to fall into an oblivion where figures seem distant and blurry and I dont know if I am dreaming or awake.

Up until now, I have never understood how people get addicted to drugs or alcohol since it alters their reality, but I completely understand now. I understand the need to escape and the need to feel like nothing is real. The need to just view figures and shapes and just get inklings of feelings, but not really feel or see anything at all. I just want to sleep through the rest of this endless life.

When will I want to wake up?

Title of post is "Samson" by Regina Spektor. Great song...so fitting for me right now

And Take A Little Walk, When the Worst Is To Come

Still on my Band of Horses streak. This is my song of the moment: "Detlef Schrempf"

Something that has been a constant in my life for years, might be coming to end. While there is some relief, I feel massive amounts of sorrow. I am drowning in it.

"And say you're at a loss or forgot that words can do more than harm"

This lyric from this song resonates deep within me in a way I cant even explain. It says so much without saying anything at all and no truer words have ever been said.

Words...

They can do so much damage and yet sometimes all you need is a few words to make everything better. I'm Sorry...I love you...so small and so simple and yet they have the power to reverse the irrevocable.

One word can be interpreted so many different ways. One word can come out wrong or absolutely right. Interpretations of these words is just as important as the words themselves. My interpretations have broken me. His interpretations have broken him.

I say things I dont mean. So does he....and though words are fleeting and intangible, the damage they cause is worse than physical pain. You cannot measure how to heal from the pain of words. It is not visible to the eye like a physical scar is. Sometimes you never heal and sometimes the damage cannot be undone.

If this enormous part of life does come to an end, it will not be because of what was said, it will be because of interpretations that were misread and because we did not read between the lines. It will be because of words left unsaid...

By the way, if anyone gets a chance, please listen to Band of Horses "Infinite Arms" performed live. It is breathtaking and evokes emotions that lay dormant. There is something about this song that tugs at my very being. I can physically feel it affecting me. This song is an experience...it is almost supernatural. I hope whoever listens to it can feel what I feel when I hear it.

Others Came Before Me, Others To Come

I have been meaning to blog for weeks but havent felt like I have anything new to say. I have been stuck in my rut and I have not seen the light at the end of my tunnel.

I cant sleep. I am drinking massive amounts of coffee in the morning and I feel like I am coming down with a cold...again. Is there another word for misery? I am tired of repeating myself.

Been listening to a lot of Band of Horses lately. Their melancholy beats suit my moods, particularly in their song "Infinite Arms." I interpret the song to be about death but I can also see how it can be about love. It is a perfect crossfire and the feelings it emits fit me to a T. It reminds me of him...

I feel like I am dead. I most certainly do not feel alive. And while I feel love, I have learned tough lessons about love. It does not conquer all. It does not heal. It is not the solution to everything. Love is more work and sacrifice than anything else. Love requires effort. Love is difficult and complicated and often causes more problems than it solves. Love is scarring and can be hurtful. Love can make you oblivious and can consume you whole. Once you fall into it, you are never the same.

Some say it is worth all the pain, some say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Me? I dont know anymore...

Enjoy "Infinite Arms"

Blame It On Bad Luck

I am on a bad luck streak. My car was attacked last week in the middle of the night while it was PARKED on the block I live on. Some asshole hit her and just kept going. This person hit my car with so much force that it ended up on the sidewalk and it banged into the car parked behind me. So the whole front driver side is destroyed and in pieces as is my driver side tire and rim and my bumper. This was quite an unexpected surprise.

This person MUST have been drunk because I refuse to beleive that people just destroy other peoples' property and dont even think twice about it. I mean how do you just drive away like that? This asshole is causing me so much stress. I had to have the car towed and its sitting in an auto repair shop until my insurance company sends one of their people to "appraise" the car. Then the auto mechanic can start repairing the car. All this can take weeks so I dont even know when I am getting my car back.

All the while, because I am cheap and didnt add a rental car to my policy, I now have to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to catch a 1 hr train ride to work. Then I have to call a taxi to pick me up from the train station and take me to the office. Not to mention that the insurance policy I picked (since I was being cheap again) has a $500 deductible that has to come out of MY pocket. And the worst part is that I just KNOW that my insurance is going to increase now even though I was not at fault. They are gonna say that I live in a "high risk" area since this happened, so I might not even be able to afford to pay for car insurance after this.

Meanwhile, the son a bitch that hit me probably has some minor damage to his or her car and is going about their merry fucking way with $500 in their pocket and a ride to work. How fucking fantastic for them! I am still in so much shock that I am not even mad. I am just upset and disappointed in the human race.

Then, the day after my car almost died, I end up losing my wallet. Not my entire huge wallet with all my credit cards but a small wallet I use for the weekends where I only keep my cash, license, and debit card. This small wallet was an authentic Gucci that I paid too much money for and it's lost along with my license and debit card (I'm broke so I didnt have cash.) The good thing is since I have no car til God knows when, I dont really need my license. And since I'm broke, I guess I'll be able to save some money since I have no debit card and no way of taking out any cash unless I get to a bank before they close. My bank closes at 3pm... I get home from work at 6:30pm. I aint making it on time.

Now for the straw that broke the camel's back. I am working from home today because, well, I have no car or money. I decide to have my breakfast in my bedroom where I planed on staying the whole day. I NEVER eat in the bedroom, EVER. Its a sacred place to me that I like to keep super clean. Well, I broke my rule today and I paid for it because I end up spilling my entire 160z mug of coffee all over my bed, carpet and my white curtains. I had to change my bed sheets and I attempted to soak up the coffee from the carpet while I thought to myself "Thank God I made an extra pot of coffee this morning!" Sadly, I think my carpet is stained and now my bedroom smells like coffee.

And surprisingly enough, I am not even mad at the fact that the world seems to have something against me this week. I really and truly feel nothing. I am treating these things as inconveniences for me. I dont know if this lack of feeling is a good thing...or a bad one, but I dont even care enough to figure it out.

Just Stuck Inside The Gloom

My lack of motivation to do anything is astounding. I cannot comprehend how my only desire is to lay around and watch TV. My apartment is like a cave that I am hibernating in, despite the fact that the weather is still pleasent. There isnt even anything good on TV. I've passed the time watching ridiculous things that exist solely for entertainment.

Everything bores me these days.

Having fun means getting off my fat ass and doing something and at the moment, the way I feel, its like that is not even an option. I just feel so tired. I am tired of all the things that I put up with and have gotten accustomed to. I am tired of just feeling like I have settled for what life has to offer. I am tired of saying that I am going to do something and then never following through with it. It seems that I am not a woman of my word and although I dont like it, I have come to accept it, just as I have accepted everything else in my life.

I have settled

What will it take to wake me out of my slumber? What needs to happen in order for me to become motivated? I have too much time on my hands, and yet not enough.

Never enough....

Time waits for no one and every second I spend unmotivated is a second I have lost forever. And sadly, I think I am becoming ok with that. I guess my dreams and goals dont need to be achieved. I am starting to accept that I will never be skinny, I will never travel the world, I will never buy a house...

I will always be unhappy

I have settled and it depresses me to the point where I suffocate on my acceptance. To the point where I want to disassociate from my reality. To the point where nothing makes sense anymore because with settling, I feel I am doing something I swore I would never do:

I am giving up

Title of post is "Why Georgia?" by John Mayer

She's So Vacant, Her Soul Is Taken

My unhappiness peaked yesterday. My gasket was blown. My stress reached irrational levels. I now understand how people can just up and quit a job and not think twice about the consequences.

I HATE MY JOB

It makes me miserable. I am giving away the best years of my life to a company that doesnt give a shit about me and that will outsource my job in a nano second. Is this what life is supposed to be like? Is everyone else saying the same thing about their jobs? Are there people who are actually happy with their jobs? Does that even exist? It seems so impossible to me.

I have never had a job that I enjoyed. Mostly because they were all just that: jobs....but this is my career! This is supposed to be what I spend the rest of my life doing. This is what I dedicated 4 years of my life in college to. My God, I didnt know myself back then because if I did, I would NEVER have picked this career.

I used to think that the company I worked for was the bad one and thats what made me miserable, but in my irrationality yesterday (is that a word?) I had one clear, rational thought: "I was not meant to be an accountant." My misery in my career has nothing to do with the company I work for, although it does add to it, but it has everything to do with my career choice.

Now that I think back to it, all the signs were clear. I never enjoyed numbers. I never enjoyed Math. It was my weakest subject. I am a woman of words and books, not numbers and equations. I initially liked the fact that accounting was black and white. Debits must always equal credits. It made me comfortable to know that there was always a wrong and a right. But now that I am older and much less naive, I realize that the world is gray. There are exceptions to rules and there is never a wrong and a right.

Everything about who I am goes against this career choice. I have outgrown it. I keep telling myself that the money makes up for the misery but the truth is that I dont get paid enough to fake the satisfaction I should feel. Money really cant buy happiness....and I am finding this out the hard way.

Title of Post is from "He Can Only Hold Her" by Amy Winehouse