So hi let’s talk about how I cried yesterday for a good 15 hours okay? OKAY. It started with an exchange with my best friend. I’d mentioned that I was waiting on something from Etsy for several days and the mask was $17. I was making a point of how ironic it was that me being as dirt poor as I am, I don’t want to ask for a refund because I’m worried that my $17 and others is his only source of income. Me, who has no income and has to borrow money like it’s my job is worried about that? Okay. Well her reaction was to fucking lecture me about unnecessary spending and after a couple deflections and she’s still riding my ass, I’m now pissed, but as I’m trying to react to things differently other than anger, I write her a nice message acknowledging her position and feelings, trying to show empathy (which I suck at) to her position but also defending myself like, don’t lecture me. It was beautiful I was so proud. She proceeds to respond by an eye roll emoji. So now I’m upset. I explain to he...
Well hello. Here we are again, back to blogging. I suppose this is more appropriate than spilling my whole life to 300 people on Facebook but sometimes a girl needs that validation. I digress. The real reason I started this is when I am having deep thoughts or deep conversations with someone that isn’t my therapist I can jot them down. And actually have something to talk about in therapy. Today the whole way I was driving to town this afternoon I was thinking what would happen if my Mom got murdered. What would I say? What would I do? It’s not like I have any desire for her to be murdered in fact it would devastate me to the core, it’s just shit I think about. Like something to prepared for. It’s kinda sick that the things I can prepare for I don’t, and things I can’t realistically prepare for have a 10 step “plan” I’m wavering in and out of trying to find another job. Everytime I think of interviewing again I get a little woozy. The failed CVS adventure was enough to shatte...
My relationship with my mother is reaching new uncharted territory and I'm not even sure how to handle it. For years all we did was fight, fight bitterly and badly. It's all we knew. It was our definition and anyone and everyone had their own opinion on our relationship. I let too many voices in. At the end of the day, I wanted to love my mother without the fighting. I wanted to be there for her and laugh and enjoy our life together. Covid and DPT therapy brought that forth to me. We stopped fighting and became each other's safe space. We no longer let outside voices infiltrate us or interfere with how we are. They're irrelevant. I've lived with my mother for 4 years now. The longest stretch of time we've lived together since I was 18. To be honest most of the time it's been great. We laugh we smoke we have fun. Here lately though it's been weighing on me. And things I'm starting to creep up. The biggest thing has been the lack of help around the h...
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