Dirty Little Secrets

Everyone has dirty little secrets.  No one is perfect.  No one, except maybe The Creator.  No, this not a long rambling post on religion or anything like that.  Its actually more about the skeletons in our closets.  The people we were in the past.  I've been dragging my feet with regards to going through my old laptop.  She's been out of commission a long time and its probably high time I went through it.  Part of me doesn't want to.  Part of me does.  Part of me feels like I'll regret it.  Part of me is really hurt by what my husband said to me before going to bed.  Maybe he meant nothing by it.  Maybe he did.  I have no idea.  He basically said that, "You need to tell me the day before that you won't be able to iron my stuff or have a really good reason.  When you have a job, then maybe things will be a little more balanced."

If that doesn't make what little self confidence I had dissolve rather quickly, I don't know what does.  I know I have it pretty good.  I get that.  But at the same time, I don't think he's ever been down that dark road where you wake up in fear every morning.  When the place where you're being bullied is the same as your home.  I'm sure my grammar is awful here, but I don't care tonight. 

I found old pictures of my husband before he met me.  He had those things on his sides that make girls stupid (as so eloquently put by 2 Broke Girls).  He's standing in front of a mirror preening for the camera.  I don't know why it bothers me.  Maybe I'm vain.  (Ha!  I'm one to talk....)    I know I'm not the prettiest girl out there, but I sure as hell try.  That picture makes him seem like someone kind of cold and detached.  He reminds me of Barney Stinson in the photo.  "Look at me.  I'm hot and I know it." (His internal dialogue maybe.)  All I know is that when I was single, I was looking for love.   I wanted to be loved.  I don't know why it bothers me.  I know it shouldn't.  I just don't get it.   Damn you skeletons in the closet.  I wish you'd stayed hidden.

-Cookie

I'm Back! Get To Know Me Better!

Hi Y'all,

I've been super neglectful about positing, so I thought a blog revamp was in order.  I did manage to get married I December of last year.  Yes, I did have a breakdown because of a job.  And yes, I'm one of those pre-30 ladies who doesn't want kids right now.  I might take a few jumps back on throw-back posts, but for the most part, my goal is to be funny and insightful.  If you have a topic suggestion or something you'd like for me to discuss, let me know!


About Me

• I'm 28 years old.
• I like horror movies.
• I watch the Walking Dead.
• I don't want kids right now.
• The degree I have is in a field I know I don't want to work in.
• I'm on the fence about my religion.
• I love country music.
• I enjoy shooting rifles and guns at the range.
• I live in Maryland but miss my home state of Florida.
• My mom drives me crazy.
• I get lonely sometimes and can't figure out for the life of me why I can't make friends.
• Maybe I'm not really ready for friends, until I'm comfortable in my own skin.
• I love my husband, but if I could move back to FL, support myself and still be married, I'd do it.
• I like reading, but I'm not religious about finishing them.
• I like to skip to the end of books so I know whether or not the characters get the happy ending they deserve.
• Growing up, my favorite Disney Princess was Ariel.
• I could be in better shape.
• I like driving with the windows down.
• I am an abuse survivor.
• I am a rape survivor.
• I like nail polish.  Wayyy more than I should.
• I have come to terms with the fact that you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.
• I know I want to go back to school.
• I know I want to pursue photography.
• I'm afraid of heights, spiders, and snakes.
• I enjoy the beach and the outdoors, but my husband is allergic to it.  (Literally)
• I am determined to be happy and enjoy life because its too short to waste.

-Cookie 

Brandon, Up, Negativity and the 99%

I'll tell this in order, but I had some stuff I just had to get off my chest.  First off, I want to apologize for being so negative.  I haven't taken moving well at all and lately I just feel invisible.  Sometimes, I just want to be.  Anyway, please accept my apologies for being so down.  I am sorry if I offend you.    Here we go.

Brandon
NB had a friend in high school named Brandon.  Brandon lived life to the fullest.  He lived to live and didn't care what people thought.  He was a genuinely nice guy.  Unfortunately, Brandon died almost a decade ago in a car accident.  I hate the fact that I've spent so much time dwelling on what people think/thought of me.   Life seems like fleeting moments flying by at the speed of light.  You blink and before you know it, college is a memory.  You blink again and you're 30 with like two kids.  I don't want to wake up one day and regret that I didn't live my life.  I ask myself what if my life was over tomorrow?  Would I be satisfied with what I've done and how I've treated people or would I have regrets?  I don't want to waste my time worrying about what people think.  So what if you pushed me in PE?  So what if you looked at me and said ew?  You don't matter.  I have to love myself so that the person who does love me gets the best me there is....

Up
I finally watched Up with NB today.  It happened to be on TV.  I cried throughout it. (DUH!) I cried because he loved this woman so much.  She managed to encourage him from the beyond.  Through her spirit.  I used to be that way with NB.  I tried to lift his spirits when he needed them.  Lately, I've been a disappointment.  He's been trying to lift my spirits to no avail.  I won't let him.  I don't want that to be my legacy.  I don't want NB to look back and think "She was so troubled.  She didn't bring me happiness."  I want to bring him happiness. 

Negativity
Negativity manages to flow through you like a poison.   I can feel when negative thoughts are running through my mind.  My stomach starts to hurt.  IBS is majorly connected to the mind.  Being negative hurts my whole body.  I've come to the conclusion that life is too short for that.  Not to mention I don't want to be sick anymore.  I'm working on what I eat.  I have to work on what I think too.

The 99%
Wanna know a secret?  I was raised dirt poor.  When I was going to middle and high school, I didn't have fancy clothes.  Hell, I wore clothes from Kmart.  I cared what people thought then.  My mom worked so hard to make sure I had something to wear period.  I was emotionally abused too.  Mostly by my dad and via side effect by my mom who never stood up for me.  I had proms, dances, even going to the mall taken away from me.  I've been dirt poor in college.  I've been a mis-manager of money when I thought I was going to be a teacher....decorating my hypothetical room.  I had credit card debt.  I still do.  Not a lot mind you.  It's what's still left.  I hate the fact that companies don't think I belong there.  They aren't willing to even try me.  I have something to offer.  I worked all through high school, college and beyond.  I wanted nothing more than to be accepted.  What I sought, was acceptance of me.  You can't make people accept you.  You can't make someone hire you.  All I can tell myself is that someday, someone will give me a chance and when they do, they will be glad they did.  I know my old job in Jax did.  What I can't get over is the fact that the economy supports people to stay home and do nothing and punishes you for getting an education.  When I worked at kmart...there would be women who would come through (on welfare) and they would buy junk food.  I'm standing there making seven bucks an hour, and here stands some rude crazy woman who hasn't put out an ounce of the effort tormenting me for not smiling.  I'm sorry, I don't feel like smiling when I'm working for chump change out of college.  I am the 99%.  I know there are PHd's out there flipping burgers.  Masters degree holders working the same awful jobs I've worked.  I just wish things made more sense.  What frustrates me, is that there is no justice.  I can't let that get to me. 

-The SG

Girls Who Complain About the Size of the Diamond...

I'll admit it.  I sit there and I admire engagement rings on Helzberg.com.  I like reading the reviews for no reason and I know that he may never ask me bc I have so many flaws and may never be a good financial investment.  I love the reviews where the girl goes "The center stone is only a third of a carat."  WHOA.  Let me get this straight.  You are pissing and moaning because he asked you to marry him and the ring he gave you wasn't large enough for you?  SERIOUSLY.

I would be happy with a true proposal.  I'd be happy with the el cheapo super value ring they sell that has like one stone in it.  It's the thought that counts.  The fact that some guy wants to make you his wife and spend the rest of his life with you should count for something.  I guess that part of it counts more to me than anything bc I come from a really really messed up family and my dad spent tons of time telling me that I was the equivalent to the bottom of his dirty shoe.  That was so comforting.

I just want to belong to a real family.  I don't have my mom's last name and thank God I don't have my dad's either.  I actually have his middle name as my last.  I hate having that brand on me.  I'm so tired of being sad.  I want to love myself but I don't know how.  It's really hard.  I know I have so many blessings in my life (NB being one of them) but the ambitious part of me wants so much more and a lot of it BEFORE I turn 30.

End rant.

xoxo

You are...The Only Exception....

I woke up feeling really really really sad today.  I don't know why.  I didn't sleep very well and I just feel all sorts of sad today.  I keep looking at everyone else announcing their babies and weddings and I keep having this dumb thought that I'll never get the chance to share my news with anyone.  I don't know if I will ever get there.  Ever since I quit Cymbalta, I've had this awful rash from hell on my legs and bum.  It's a withdrawal symptom.  I just feel this crushing lonliness today and I don't know if I will be able to shake it.  I see things for babies and little kids and it gets me going because a child's world is so innocent and so pure and I never had that.

I was abused a lot as a little kid and young adult.  My dad was a manipulative......well you know.  All I've ever wanted is to feel safe and feel loved.  NB loves me.  I know that.  But I am too negative for him.  I'm trying but its such a hard fight and I don't know if I will ever be okay.  I just want to be accepted.  I just want to be loved.  I just want to have a few seconds of whimsy.  I want to be able to look back at my childhood and not burst into tears.

I am not a freak.  I am not worthless.  I deserve to be happy too. 

Clueless

 "She is literally the Polaroid of perfection.  She has everything and she'll give it to you in a second.  Looks can deceive.  She wears her heart on her sleeve.  She'll steal you away.  Not just one day, one day, is an ordinary day.  In her world, she's an ordinary girl." -Theme from TV's Clueless

I may not be popular, I may not be pretty and in the grand scheme of things I may not matter to anyone but I am a human being and I owe it to myself to love me.  I owe it to myself to put a band-aid on my wounds and let them heal.  I owe it to myself to let the past be in the past and the present my gift.  I just can't get over how hard it is to watch everyone around me get married and have babies and have the family that I've waited my whole life to have.  If NB's brother's SO gets her baby too, I'm positively going to scream.  Why don't I deserve to be happy?  I'm not getting any younger.  I'm actually getting older.  Every single freaking day.  Why don't I deserve anything?  I have to skip my birthday.  I have to skip Christmas.  I am afraid to find a job and at the same time I need a job that will make me feel better about myself.  My brain feels like its on overload.  Quitting depression pills is the hardest thing I've ever done.  But I'm doing it for me.  I'm doing it for the 15 year old me that was told she was ugly, had people look at her and go eww, the girl that was told she didn't deserve to be loved, ate her lunch in the bathroom in 9th grade, got locked in a bathroom by some bitch who thought it was funny to torment someone she didn't even know.  This is for the girl that was made fun of for being poor, made fun of for being a nobody.  This is for that girl who never in her wildest dreams thought that she would get her wishes to come true.  There is a someday.  There has to be or else there is nothing to hope for.

End of random rant about random crap.
xoxo

Turning Tables

I woke up today pretty much dripping in negativity.  I don't know why and its taken my body with it.  My stomach is killing me and I now have the reverse of what I normally have stomach wise.  I continue to miss Jacksonville and I honestly don't know why.  NB and I reconnected yesterday, which was nice and it reminded me of the all the things I love about him.  It was nice to feel pretty for a few minutes.  I applied for jobs.  I was productive.  So I don't think I'm feeling bad about that necessarily.  I am pissed at Maryland in general.  I actually think that I'm using Maryland as a scapegoat almost.  Baa.

I hate how being negative courses through your veins like poison almost.  I feel about as out of control of things as I did when I was like 10.  Oddly enough, I'm listening to music from that era too so I guess it fits.  I'm just mad at the way Maryland seems to be treating me.  I have yet to meet any truly nice people around here.  It seems as if they fall into two categories: old and nice or young and mean/rude as hell.  I miss the Floridian sunshine.  I miss the stupid ramp at the end of the hallway of the old condo.  I miss feeling like a success.  I miss my mom but she's another can of worms in itself.

She truly believes that my dad (a man who has never worked an honest day in his life) is going to bring money in from Pakistan (where they're from) and make everything okay.  He's been telling her this since the day he showed up in June 2010.  But she believes in him and gets mad when I challenge him.  But honestly, can you waste your life being sad?  Life in itself is so fleeting that I don't think we can really afford to be sad about stupid things.

Bottom line.  How do you fight being negative?  Prayer I suppose.  I just NB believed in prayer.  I wish God would hear me.  I wish my body would heal.  I don't know if that is even possible.  I'm bound and determined to try though.

XoXo,

Pissy Because I had to Move....Yea You Heard Me Right

I figured I'd hop on here and get everything off my mind.  It's easier for me to type it out than to write it out by hand in a traditional journal  so off I go.  I am mad at Northern Boy for moving me up here.  Bottom line no bones about it.  I hate it here.  I am from the South.  People here are just plain rude and have no concept of hospitality.  I'm mad at NB because I have no job and I gave up a job that I liked to come here.  I hate the fact that he wants to push me onto Welfare when I refuse.  I never ever want to have anything in common with my parents.

I don't know if I'm going crazy or what but I feel disconnected from him.  Like there is a part of me that knows or thinks that I know that he seems comfortable not being married.  I wonder if I even want it.  I have always wanted to belong to a real family.  I don't even have the same last name as either of my parents.  My dad refused to sign my birth certificate.  For a long time, I wanted to take NB's name and get married and live happily ever after.  I'm starting to wonder if there is a such thing as a happily ever after for me.

The money situation isn't good for us right now.  We will be skipping my birthday and Christmas and really anything that makes this podunk town bearable.  I miss the magic we once shared.  I miss looking at him with dewy eyes and being excited to see him every afternoon after school or work.   I miss jumping into his arms.  I miss being able to make him attracted to me like a magnet.  Everything feels like a chore now.

It feels like there is no one to catch me.  No one to make me feel safe.  Now don't get me wrong.  He has done a lot for me.  But on the other end, no one can even begin to understand what its like.  I am looking for a job harder than ever to fix this money crap and just get this burden off me.  I pray that God will help me to find a good job soon.  Speaking of prayer, I wish he believed in God too.  It would be nice to have someone to pray with.

Basically, what this boils down to is that I am pissy because I had to move, and I want some stability and a little magic back in my life.  I don't believe in my mom's pipe dreams (my dad feeds her lies) that one day my dad will get gobs of money from the sky.  I do believe in one thing....okay two.  One, I believe in God.  Two, I believe that if I try hard enough, and put enough apps out there, that I'll find something worthwhile.

Wish me luck.

XOXO,

Making Peace

So today I came to the conclusion that in order to move on with my life I had to gain some closure with my mom.  I asked her point blank if she thought I was a bad daughter.  She said no.  But she did say something really damming that caught me off guard.  She said that she hated that I had left so fast.  Leaving meaning moving out of her apartment.  She wishes she would have had more time with me, but since my dad showed up, and I had no good job holding me there, I upped and bolted.  Perhaps things might have been different if I had found success in Orlando.  To be honest, I'm glad they didn't.  I would trade a minute of my life that I got to experience living on my own and learning from my mistakes and going through the hardships that I did.  Perhaps it was my hasty leaving that created the wound I bear from all of it.  Or a part of it anyway.  I will always love my mom, it just breaks my heart that she chooses to live with such a deadbeat snake.  And that's like a disgrace to snakes everywhere.  I think it is what it is.  God has a plan for everything and everyone and at this point, I don't think I want to know why.  I don't think anyone can know why.  We have free will.  And she uses her free will to be with him and be miserable.  That's her choice.  I didn't abandon her.  I moved away to be with someone I love.  Someone who has stood by me through the good times and bad.  I talked to her on the phone for like an hour.  However, I think I may be on the road to making peace with what happened to me as a child.  I don't think my mom knew any better. Not that is a valid excuse.  It just seems to make sense.

Until next time,
XOXO

I Just Want to Love You Today

Sometimes, in my head, I wish for things that I know cannot happen for me.  I don't want to be sick anymore.  I don't want to be sad anymore.  I would give anything to be able to love myself.  Why do I have stupid good dreams where my expectations get raised?  I don't want to think about good things happening for me.  I don't want to think about miracles that I don't expect to come true.  I don't want to reminded about them.  I don't want to feel the exhiliarating feeling of being loved the way I've waiting for my whole life, when I know that I can't have it.  I wish that no one saw my flaws.  I wish he didn't see my flaws.  I wish his family didn't see my flaws.  I can't breathe anymore.  I'm having an anxiety attack and there are no guranatees to the questions that I have.  I will never get my wishes.  I just have to accept that and move on.  No one saw any flaws with his mom.  She was perfect enough to marry finanacial risk and all.  In my head, its something I lack.  I can't put on the fake face long enough for anyone to be convinced that I'm ok.  That I'm worthy.  I just want to breathe.  Please help me.


Xoxo

Ow...Ow...Ow.

Sometimes, I feel like a baby.  Literally.  My stomach hurts so bad, it feels like its on fire and I can't find a soul who understands how bad it hurts.  Or how embarrassing it is when your stomach explodes in public and you're stuck trying to hide it.  Such is the life of someone with IBS.  Irritable Bowel Syndrome or IBS as its more commonly known can strike where ever and whenever it wants to and sometimes its driven by whatever is going on in your head.

There are some wonderful things going on in my life.  There are mountains to cross.  There a oceans to swim too. Whenever I get sick, I think of my mom.  I wonder what she's doing.  She leaves me messages even though I got her number blocked.  I miss her.  But I cannot afford to let her into my life.  If I do, I'd lose NB.  And I can't deal with that.  Things are getting better between us and I can understand that its hard to love on someone who has covered themselves in spikes.  My behavior and breakdowns are the equivalent of spikes.  I'm fighting hard to shed them.  To learn to love myself.  I want to love myself. And biggest of all, I want to be loved.  I want to have love and joy in my life.  I am exhausted.  I'm going to turn in for the night.  Until next time..xoxo

Old Relationship vs. New Relationship

I suppose every relationship has its phases.  Of course, you have the passionate beginning.  The middle hum drums and the struggles to keep it all together.  Last but not least, either the relationship survives and moves forward or it the final embers burn out and you're left with memories.  I wonder where we are.  It almost feels like we're at the end.  I hate writing about that or even putting that out there but the passion is more or less gone.  I don't want to jump his bones.  I don't want to make out with him.  Even if I wanted to, his reaction is all I need to lose my "erection"  I wear the pretty lingerie under my clothes.  Almost like a present.  That no one seems to care to unwrap.

I have counseling appointments set up to deal with the issues that I've been battling since I was twelve.  My dad still manages to play mind games with me and my less than bright mother.  My mom tried to send me some money to help me out while I look for a job.  Guess who stopped her?  My dear old Dad.  I don't think he mailed the first envelope.  And on the second one which she wasted five dollars to mail via priority mail, was empty and purposefully mailed to the wrong address.

He think this is funny.  He could care less that I've been struggling with depression for over a decade because of him.  He's probably proud of it.  Proud of the mess he's made even perhaps.  He wants to isolate my mom, and through the bullshit stunts he's pulled, he's going to be successful.

My mom loves someone who is a sociopath.  And even that is insulting to the sociopaths.  The man has never worked a day in his life.  However, like Dr. David Hayward on AMC (a soap) he's got a sadistic passion for manipulating whomever he can and he won't stop until he issues your breakdown or a win against you.

He has this villainous quality to him.  Mind games are his speciality.  He will fuck with your head if he can.  I have no choice but to really let go of my mom this time.  He operates through her.  I will never be able to figure out why he is more deserving of her love.  Or why she thinks I'm the villain for moving.  Or why she's stayed all these years.  All I can hope for is that he has to answer to a higher authority.

God gave us free will.  What you decide to do with your life is all up to you.  I'm starting to think that God can't make you do something.  Nor can Satan.  However, do I think they put people in your path?  HELL YES!!! You make the final decision to do whatever it is that you deem fit.  I guess in my dad's mind, he is perfect.

I'm starting to think that NB is slowly but surely turning into his dad.  His dad is a hard worker and all, but he is a total snob.  Slowly but surely, the things I loved so much about NB seem like fleeting memories.  Do I think its possible that the flames can be reignited?  Sure.  However, there is a part of me that now starts to see the fact that he seems to hate hanging out with me as a sign that this may be less of a sure thing.

There are no guarantees in life.  There are no promises to be made.  Energy cannot be created nor destroyed.  The same goes for love.  For now....xoxo.

Skinny Girl....Fat Girl....Girl Interrupted (Bad grammar and All)