My dog

I'm so sad about my dog.  It's weird.  I'm not even sure what exactly I'm sad about, but she was gone for two days to stay at the vets and visit with my brother and now she's back, but we can't go on any walks until she's recovered. 

And it may just be me, but I think some changes went on with her and me while she was gone and now things are all weird. 

I have to remember that she's a dog and I'm a human.  We are different.  And she feels better when she is treated like a dog. 

Notes on Topix of Interest

Listening to Young the Giant, I Got.  Do we italicize names of songs?  

In German they capitalize all nouns.  I feel like doing that time and again.  Grammar Rebel.  

Ecommerce/Retail

Now people don't even have to leave their home.  They can buy everything online.  They can order groceries, materials, products online.  All it takes is a box and a package handler/driver.  

What does this mean for people?  We are gradually growing into a society that is nonsocial.  We may not hate our neighbor, but we don't want to see him.  

Technology

I hate technology.  It's messy.  Seriously, when I think of technology, I think of wires.  Thousands of messy wires.  But I love the joy they can bring.  Music, Internet.  Really I think the good memories that I have with my family and friends are the best connections I have with technology.  I also think of gadgets.  Who really needs a gadget.  No one.  That's who.  

PC Gaming Hardware

I used to play NES with the friends at school and nothing will beat the original.  I really should buy a set before they get to be rare collectors items because they are the best and really the only PC hardware that I'd like to buy.  I kind of wanted to get a headset but that wasn't for gaming.  It was really for a phone job.  

VoIP, SIP Trunking, Unified Communications

I don't really get VoIP.  Changing phone calls into the internet?  Don't we have skype?  I don't see the awesomeness of this.  The definition that I looked up said that it bypassed the phone company, but that sounds slightly illegal. SIP Trunking.  I retarded at computer!  That's all I can say about that.  

Technical Topics

I physic-ed in high school, but majored in English in high school.  I made an A in that class, but I didn't take AP.  It's not really a second nature to me.  Too right brained.  I know "Righty Tighty, Lefty Loosy." But that's it.  I don't know how cars or computers work and I don't want to.  Ok, I'm lying a little, but that's more a general wish that I was good at something.  I'm jealous of my brother's and sister-in-law's extensive computer knowledge and expertise.  

Nutrition & Health

I think we should all eat lentils.  They are delicious and nutritious.  I made a huge pot and they don't have any of those negative things, like oils, sugars, meats, or hydrogenated oils.  Next I'm going to make some spaghetti with some veggies we have around the house.  Totally free of those nasty things, and completely natural.  I'm all about eating creatively and healthily.  

Entrepreneur-Focused Web Design

I think everyone in the world needs a website.  That's why Facebook is so great.  Free advertising of all the greatness of people.  If you are an entrepreneur, you should definitely get a facebook page to start yourself off.  People love "liking" things, they love being connected easily.  Best of all it's free.  

Messiness and Writing

I used to be such a neat girl.  Now I am so messy.  I drink and spill liquid from the corners of my mouth onto my shirt.  What happened to that little perfectionist?  Life, I guess.  I spill oatmeal, coffee, anything on the counters.  Mess is best.  Even at my job, I seem to make a mess of the vegetables in the bane at Subway.  I don't like myself when I do, in fact I hate myself.  But I can't seem to control the details. So I just keep on being messy.

My mom has all these mason jars we use as drinking glasses.  Ball is printed in cursive on the front and it also advertises a "WIDE MOUTH."  on the back, raised in glass is a fruit medley.  I really think most people would enjoy using mason jars as glasses, because they are authentic and rustic.  My mom thinks they don't have a weird taste like plastic cups do.  I haven't noticed a difference in taste, but as far as uniqueness, I would say, yes, go for a mason jar.

I'm really bummed because I look on these job boards and they seem to have these jobs where they expect you to have written something in your life. And I've written essays for school and a bunch of Search Engine Optimization articles.  I don't really feel sound enough in soul, or am enough of a peaceful, reflective lake to write.  I have all these ripples and eddies, and there's these swords popping out at adventurers.  It's a mess.  The Lady in the Lake doth be Distress.  

Getting on these board ads, I read them and then immediately panic.  Warning sirens go off.  I don't know how to write, I don't know how to write, I don't know how to write, starts a chant in my head. 
Panic, big time.  I look around for my grounding tools, 5 things I see, 4 things to hear, 3 things to feel, 2 things to smell and 1 thing you taste.  But I all can see is the giddy computer screen, all I can hear is the chant, and I feel horrible, I can't smell a thing and then there is the bitter taste of defeat.  

Ok, I am exaggerating.  

But I do panic. Like a pinned insect, I squirm against the wall pushing me towards writing and the tiny pin line of me that thinks I can't do it.  

What's the solution?  Build confidence.  What does confidence mean?  The firm belief that you can rely on something.  If you do then you will believe.  Doing ushers in belief.  So what do you do.  You write.  Here I am, writing.  So to make it even more simple, create a daily habit of writing the types of writing that you are looking to write for others.    

Not being just writing itself, but other subjects and tone of writing is what I aim to practice.How do you change your style of writing?  So definitely blog personal matters, but also read and expand your universe with unique and diverse types of writing.  Try to write with another's voice.  It's not so hard. Speak with a different tongue.  

I don't even know what to write

Sometimes I'm just dry in experiences.  I like to think of it as full of potential.  Instead of forcing myself to go out and experience things, I'll just dream about them.  Maybe they will be better that way. Kind of put myself in a neutral posinto.

I'm up at 4 am and I couldn't sleep tonight.  The bed is like a hammock now, it's so well worn.

 For some reason, I'm doing all the usual things without the usual rewards.  I guess now with a new job, I have to make new patterns within the boundaries of old patterns.  Dishes, preparing foods, helping others.  These are all old things that I have to recycle to fit a new pattern.

So instead of getting depressed or even if I am depressed, I just need to keep getting out there and enjoying the fresh air on my walk to work.  If I could move out I would love to be in a new situation and with new, coZier surroundings, to fit my new lifestyle.  It's just practical.

I've really been going through a tough time with my dog baby.  She is having trouble adjusting to the new schedule and won't leave the door unscratched as I leave for work.  I don't know much about dog boredom, but she is really lonely, I think when I leave for work.  Maybe I could get another person in here to babysit her while I'm gone!  I think she needs the social interaction just as much as a human..  I don't want her to get depressed!

I think that she's the prettiest thing and her coat is so shiny and glossy, like a silver seal.  We have to take care of that coat.  She needs a lot of  attention.

I really think she misses by brother, because he was such a calming presence.  He could manly her in a couple of seconds and she would submit like a pup..  As Ceaser would say, "He has calm, assertive energy."

 I'm glad I have my dog, but I'm realiZing that she is not the only precious creature in my life.  There are other people, too.

Having weird dreams

I had these weird dreams that I was in a cafeteria.  I often have dreams where I'm working at Chuck E. Cheese, but things are different.  I sort a dreamed about a board room, talking to some businessmen taking a class or seminar, we went into Chuck E. Cheese.  And there were kids, and I think my dog was almost in my dream.  The dreams are really vague and not specific.

Oh, I suddenly remembered.  I was farming with my sister.  We had committed to taking this load of wheat or something to the suppliers.  I kept trying to drive unsuccessfully.  Then I was reaping the wheat with a tractor, but it was in my friend's parent's living room.  And after we did this for her parents, we were going visit my parents and do something for them.  Weird dream.

I'm actually up this morning!  Struggled with it though.  Nothing's perfect.  If it was, I'd probably be disappointed.  Enough for me to have morning revival, do stretches, check out my relaxation binder, and make some calls.

My back and neck are so weird, they are relaxed, but tense.  I'm not sure how to describe it.  Maybe my back is relaxed and the rest of my body is tense.

I should have majored in Advertising.  I have a huge and uncontrollable urge to communicate things. "Huge!"

Well, I have to go get ready for work.  I feel so grateful that I have a job.

So challenged.

I've been really challenged, lately.  

Arlington,TX officially has a bus line.  I thought that the MAX was going to go the way of the dinosaur, but common sense prevailed.  

There's this junk mail that keeps getting through my spam filter.  Resource Depot.  I don't unappreciate their attentive emails that seem so helpful, but really are not what I need right now.

Medium is kinda my favorite now.  I really like their style.  Serious but casual.  Comedic, yet intense.  

I'm starving.  I've been skipping lunches because of my work shift and am alternately befuddled and grateful.  Confused because I don't want to be a starvation all the time, but happy cause I'm losing weight.

I'm hangry and tired.  Great combination.  I made a to do list with forumlaic intentions, measuring urgency, importance, time, reward, and punishment and my motivation got worse.  I was being pushed to exercise this morning and my head didn't want to do it.

I need to clean the bathroom.  I don't want to move.  I just want to be stationary.  Like barely move. The house is free ing.  Very cold.  It says 74, but it feels way below that.  i also need to exercise. Don't want to do that.  Feeling very la y and sad.  Sad at the loss of everything.

Made a fro en meal and some popcorn.  Should tide me over.

Feeling #blessed.

 I need to wash the dog and the bathroom.

Ninja's losing weight too, on this regimen of two cups of food a day. I sneak her food.

Ate some food, gonna go take a nap.  feel like a  oo animal.  Nothing to do but eat and lay in the sun.
Tired and lonely.

Ordinary Day

My fingers Hurt.  I cut my fingers today, accidentally.  It's hurts a little typing, so I'll be brief.

Listening to ole' Jack Johnson.  

Had some luscious warm cocoa complimented by my mom's herbal tea, watching Wheel of Fortune. Boring, but coZy.  Ninja relaxing because her people are here.  

Prepped for the weekend.  

Jesus Life, Money Life, Mom Life,

I'm staying up tonight.  If I sleep later than 12, I'm just not going to try to sleep at night because I know it'll be ridiculous.  I have so much work to catch up on.

I slept in til 3 today and I still can't figure out how to wake up in the mornings.  I listened to my alarm go off and listened to my mom come home, half-awake, but didn't get up until a few hours later.  

I woke up all grumpy and the minute I sat at my desk to have a morning time with the Lord Jesus, everything turned around. But the thing is, I didn't want it to turn around, I wanted to deal with my dirtiness, my muddiness and my death before God.  So I was very frustrated that He turned everything around.  The Lord has His great doings and His turning personality and I have my small doings, and my coming to the Lord, dirty personality.  He says, I want to cleanse You, and I say, I want to stay in my dirtiness a while,  I just thank the Lord Jesus that He is hurrying me to realize that I can't waste my time.  I have to be one who is redeeming the time according to His will and His way.

I have $6.00 in cash, and $16.42 in Paypal, that I can redeem by a check. I'm going to wait until I make at least $50.00 to redeem it, because any amounts before that seem a waste of paper.

My mom gets home tired and is probably going to the grocery store tonight.  I asked her to get lentils, soymilk and frozen peaches. I also gave her a coupon for soap. We need more Dove soap, even though she has has a hidden stache, I think.  I could ask her, but relations between me and my mom have been breaking down as of late.  The conversation doesn't flow like it should, anymore. I'm going to work on it.  Sometimes it's difficult to talk to her because she can't hear very well and asks, "What?" in a loud voice.  It's kind of funny.  I know she's getting older and I have to be appreciative of this fact.

Problems and Solutions

What's up with me?

I've been avoiding my bed and sleeping on the couch.

I think it's because the couch is more comfortable than the bed.

The bed has a dip in it.  A purple dip.

It's strange, when I come to write, I feel like all I have to do is complain.

Complain about the purple dip, the fact that I'm missing a meeting I was invited to tonight.  Missed out on all day.  That I can get up and eat breakfast and then against all my wishes go back to sleep, missing out on the whole day.  My real family who cares not a whit about me.

My trouble-making dog/baby.  That I have to collect the trash and empty the recycle bin.

But mostly that I didn't get up and I can't sleep in my bed and I can't decide whether to stay up or go to sleep.  And that I missed the home church meeting.

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After dealings with the Lord
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But I can take all these problems and make them into blessings.  The Lord Jesus is on the throne and if I just take Him as my life and everything, and ignore my bad feelings, God has a way.

I was reading about Tyre and Sidon in Ezekial, and God really hated them.  He hated Egypt, as well.  Since Tyre was so boastful and interested in making itself beautiful and great that he considered them as Satan and vowed to destroy them. 

I know often I can, in my distraction, try to make my house as beautiful as possible.  As functional and happy as possible, but I think God doesn't want to make my house beautiful and great.  He just wants me to have a house that has Godmen in it.  A God house, not a good house.  

Apology

Ok, everyone.

Here's the thing.  I have offended some people with my darker posts.  I want to apologize/not apologize.

I want to apologize for not seeing things your way.  The feeling of the other people around you and who listen to you is important, not to mention necessary.  I care about you and I don't want to hurt you or your feelings.

That said, I am getting to the point in my life where I don't care about embarrassing things, and I'm not going to keep them a secret and poison myself with them anymore.  I feel like getting them out on the page, to people who can pray for me is better than bottling them up and hating myself and others.  When I'm writing negative things about someone it's because I can't reach them any other way.  I've talked to them one on one, and another person has come with me to talk to them, and they still haven't listened to any correction, so I give it up to you.  In this way, I'm not apologizing.

I'm not trying to say I should correct my elders.  I still respect that.  I'm trying to say that there's a verse in the Bible that says you shouldn't vex your children.  Let's just say I'm very vexed.  Whatever that means.

That said, I will try not to write anymore negative things.  That's not fair to you.  If I feel bad, I'll get a therapist.  Thank you for bearing with me in the meantime.  I appreciate you reading this blog and I appreciate your support.

Some Quiet Thoughts

Ate nutmeg in my oatmeal this morning.  It's akin to pepper with the sneezes.  Where does nutmeg come from, anyway?  Nutmegs?

Dealing with perfectionism and low self confidence today.

Hiding in the Lord Jesus.  The Holy Word for Morning Revival is talking about Christ being a morning star amidst the darkness.  A star is small light in the sky.  We have to be looking and seeking for that morning star to see it.  Which ties into Life and Building in the Song of Songs, which I've been reading.  The book is talking about seeking our Savior and Lover who is away from us.  We have such enjoyment of Him and then He is different from us, away from us, and we need to keep seeking Him.

Hopefully going to Half Price Books, today.

Getting groceries that I ordered to be delivered to our house.  Kind of my passive aggressive take on getting groceries because my mom never gets things on the lists I give her.  I want to eat healthy!  And recipes!  This will be a day of reckoning.

I also want to go to Babies R' Us, Target (to get basic household items), and the Corner bakery, to see the lay of the land, if and how they are hiring. I already know they are hiring from online, but it might be helpful to check out the locations in person.

Other than that....Christ be with all the saints!

And you are alone

You know how life is terrifying?

I've been feeling this way this December.  Wake me up when December ends.

TERRIFYING.

And NO ONE is your friend.  Not God, nobody.

And you can't even count.  or use your spacial awareness to make a decent cross stitch to save your life.

And you have to wait for things to be ready.

And for things to be accomplished.

And you need sleep but you are wide awake and want to stay up to call the help center to fix your printer.

And you are on your way down the road to retarddom.  All in the name of a fancy organizational system, a way of doing things.

And you are hanging on your last shred of hope to your lifeline.

And you're about to do something you regret, but it will be warm in your tummy.

And your dog has the most expressive eye rolls and facial expressions.

Well, that's not terrifying,that's downright cute.  But it's terrifying how she looks at you like you are an alien from another planet.

And you are alone.

A statement that encompasses all of the previous statements.

Ridiculous, Retarded, Embarrassing Mush

Hey everyone.  I know you all were waiting with hungry eyes and bated breath (whatever that means, I'm usually against any kind of breath, except freshly brushed) for the next installment of Megan's life.  No really, I know.  You have me subscribed to on your readers and like to share interesting tidbits of my life on your secret twitter accounts.  I'm joking.  No one reads this.

Honestly, I have been sleeping.  ALOT.  I made two words into one word to express how much of a thing it is.  I was trying to be a normal person with normal hours, when one day I just gave up.  It was a gradual descent into madness, shaving off of edges.  And then came the drop.

The positive thing, the only positive thing is that I keep having these awesome/outrageous dreams.    An amusement park for autistic kids, where there were a whole slew of awesome rides for them, like a tunnel of keys that they can touch and feel and sense things, and a station where they get custom made animal pajamas/costume just for them.

However, I had just failed at two very different interviews, Starbucks, where I was supposed to be some innocent and ended up a being a retard at whom old dogs in cages outside bark and a photo studio where I was supposed to be/do something I just don't get yet.

The holidays were coming.  I am avoiding the one friend I have because I have this weird church-world double standard for myself and everyone else that causes frustration and stumbles me daily.
This double standards means I'm on the fence ALOT.  The point is, is that I think my friend is a bad influence, because once she yelled at me and is very brusque.  All this hedging is really to hide the real reason I can't be her friend or anyone's friend:  I've lost my ability to relate to and communicate with people.  Add that to I have this dream of being a regular church goer (and I'm pretty sure she's not into that) and things get B-A-N-A-N-A-S.  So it's not my friend, it's me.

 Most people don't even think about their ability to relate to and communicate people.  I am dead certain that I can't communicate with anyone to save my life. I know this is stupid, but my life was supposed to start after I graduated college and went to this Bible school and married my grade school sweet heart.  That dream was thwarted and my life turned into my family's fantasy of me becoming my crazy aunt Peggy, who lived at home with my grandmother until she died.  They watched TV.  Every day. (I had a brief visit with them.)  Martha Stewart and Dr. Phil.

When that Aunt Peggy bit is pulled on my by one of my family members, I feel as helpless as a baby in bathwater.  My limbs sag, my soul crunches and my bones embitter.  I can't fight it.  My hair is turning white.  I am 32 years old.  I am unmarried, childless, unsuccessful, and without hope or love.
I am sad.  sleeping all day to escape my life.  The horrible thing is this.  I keep saying I just want to get up in the morning.  I got up, ate some oatmeal.  The house is kept very cold.  My brain was only big enough to scream get back in that warm bed.  So I ran back to my room and tucked myself under my covers.  I felt all the side of people that were cheering me to get up and who wanted me to get up in the morning and I tried to get out from under the side of going back to sleep, but my head didn't exist.  My body could lie to me still and she wanted to lie on the bed under the covers and go back to sleep.  Aunt Peggy took a nap in her room every day in the afternoon and my grandmother is dead.  I see so many parallels.

There was a while that I thought I could escape this Family Curse.  I was focused on others, walked the dog every evening, and built up a sort of camaraderie with the neighbors.  I had problems, a lot of problems, but at least I was still loving people through all my fear and madness. My mom took me places, I loved her and the city streets.  Now, I don't love people.  I am alone.  I sleep. They are wearied of me.  They hate me.  

My family supports me on the one hand, but hates behind their own backs.  Since I hear everything from them, it is frustrating to understand how well developed their hate is and how full of pitfalls.  They don't know me anymore.  My only family is my dog, whom I know hates to be kissed on the face, but I always do it.  One day it will no longer be cute, and fade into a stain of unconscious hate.  My joy is to annoy, but what anger builds from such destroy.

I can't communicate, I can't organize, I can't rally against such an ephemeral foe as "I don't have a head."  I don't know how to live a secret life, obeying a secret code.  No one observes my life, but I don't have any privacy.

Maybe by writing to you, to tell you this I may make things worse.  I don't know.  Maybe I should just list some things for which I am grateful.  I am grateful that I didn't drink that third cup of coffee

It's a bet I made with one of my friends that he would quit drinking and I would quit coffee.  I had already made a bet with another one of my friends that I would quit coffee and he would quit weed, but I with my descent came the sweet taste of freedom that only the guilt of hurting myself could churn out.  I didn't win either bet.  I keep trying to stop, but I am addicted, not to the notoriously creamy and sweet coffee, but to the bitter dregs of giving something special to myself.  It may be hell, but it's a hell of which I'm in control.

I don't know what to do about me sleeping ALOT, I was really discouraged because a sister(woman of the church) said she would call me to wake me up.  She called me intermittently, for a week.  I mean is it too hard to expect a phone call every single day?  This is why I think the saints(church people) are shoddy.  They don't keep their word.  This one was my mom's friend in church before she was married and sounds strangely like my Aunt Peggy.  She is living in San Antonio.

I've stopped forgiving people who don't repent.  It's a waste of time and it hurts you more than it hurts them.  Maybe I'm stuck in the old testament. I'm not sure.  All I know is that when you forgive people who don't repent, they go back and hurt you again.  If they repent, then do it again then repent and do it again and then repent and do it again, I would forgive them each time.  But the Bible doesn't specify that we need to forgive people who don't repent.  It helps if you read it.  So I know she probably has a plan to teach me to use my spirit, which she doesn't know that I am adamantly against. When people are real and reliable and love God, all the soulish tricks of communication can't stand against them.  So I'm saying she could have loved me more by just being there.  Every morning.  Even if it didn't work out, instead of being super spiritual.  Maybe I'm too old to be loved this way.  I don't blame her though.  I didn't make it to any meetings this semester except one Bible study that I  was practically forced into and I don't visit my neighbors and I don't go to school.  I wasn't there for anyone, real, and reliably and loving God and now they don't love me.

I didn't stop drinking coffee.  I wasn't there for them.  Maybe I should get rid of the coffee maker.  I swear, I'm just addicted to the ambiance.  The romantic notion that I'm a better person and a better writer when I drink it.  I'm addicted to the ambiance of coffee and not to helping my friends.

You are my friends, too remember, please encourage me.  Remember, I'm writing to you.  Don't forget that.  If there's anything you want to say to me, say it.  Don't be afraid of the comments, they are your friends.  I'm very grateful for comments.

As for my writing, I don't have a head, but I think this non-being is good for my writing.  I'm more open to possibilities beyond my usual train of thought and my ever glowing spinal cord is an anchor to keep me from floating off after silly ideas, like  "I wish my family read this blog."

Family is always complicated.  I hate them, I love them, I want them to stop using me, I want them to succeed.  Respecting them helps a lot.  Giving them their space.  That works for all people.  There's more than one way to skin that cat.  Ew.  Gruesome saying.

And every time I feel old, I've been thinking.  There's a poem, "When I am Old," by Jenny Joseph which goes "When I am an old woman I shall wear purple/With a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me,"  And I feel like if for me the process of being old is sped up, then all the more reason to be be ridiculous.  And I get my little laugh.  Kind of dumb when people are building skyscrapers and having "tons" of sex, but I'm just a little, old woman with a laugh.  

The more I compare myself to the hopeful past and look at a bleak, uncompromising future, the more discouraged I become.  I suppose it would help to be in the moment, but the moment is usually me hibernating or hating life because I can't seem to make any appointments except my doctors'.  (and the two interviews).  But taking a step back and reexamining the past, shows me that I have come from some dark places, and here and now is a better place than I could be, on either side of the fence.

It would be "OK" to be an embarrassing mush of embarrassing emotional experiences that seem to spill like diarrhea out of my mouth at interviewers, if I didn't see how condescending and disgusted they were with me.  If I had never known that I could control my mouth and my emotions, it wouldn't be so disappointing when I can't.  I seem to have gained and then lost the ability.  The ability crops up on a occasion, but is seemingly overshadowed by all the stupid things I have to say.

There's no real reason to avoid my friend, except how embarrassed I am at not being normal in my sleep.  Two or three times, I cancelled things with my friend because I was asleep.  I'm embarrassed to make more plans because I sleep so much.  She wants me to get a job at Dominos with her and I convinced myself to fill out the application, but calling in to talk to them would be the worst.  I can just hear everything in their voice and the ridiculous, embarrassing, retarded mush spilling out of mine.

I'd rather be dreamless and have a life. I would give up dreaming for life to have a husband, two kids, a house, a regular church life.  Which is frustrating because I need a job.  I'm not going to have our kids go without things because I can't get a job.  Maybe Arlington's just a shitty place to live and doesn't have very many jobs available.  (Forgive the bad word, I'm getting to the wonder wall of interesting words.)

This means that I've failed (sleeping too much) and people have failed me (saints being two faced).  Who do you turn to when people and yourself has failed?  God?  I was reading the Bible regularly, reading the ministry (Bible books) and still chugging coffee like there was no tomorrow and sleeping irregular hours.  God helps those who help themselves.

You people think of a way out of my situation, you comment, ok?  Don't be like me, holding all my goodness towards myself.  Pay it back.  Unless there's absolutely nothing you could say to me.  I know I don't exist, but maybe you do.  Pull me like a tugboat!  I'm in the harbor, my engines are absolutely useless here.  Wait, I'm joking, nobody reads this.

Letting Go

I'm dropping out of school.

I was reading these short stories to critique before class and one got me really emotional and then I was reading the other one and I just started crying and couldn't stop for a while.  I think it may have been the pressures of making an appointment with a therapist and I did cancel that appointment, as well.  I felt no motivation to go on to finish my short story set and knew that I if I didn't have anything now, I wouldn't have anything later.

So I quit college. 
5 classes away from graduation.
Forever.

I've decided that I never want to go back.  I don't need to go back.  I'm perfectly fine the way I am. No classes I take will tweak me to any sort of awesomeness I haven't already attained to and though a Bachelor degree might look good on a resume, "some college" will just have to do. 

I feel horrible.  And I am very afraid of life without the crutch of Education, the welcoming embrace of a classroom, but I know that part of my life is over now and I can't change the choices I made or that actions I took. 

So I'm afraid and happy.  Letting go is a first step to holding on.   You can only hold so much in two hands.  Let go. 

Cloud Depression

A couple of days ago I talked about "Walking depression."  Well, here I'm going to talk about another type of depression that people have that is so dangerous and yet is often found in happy people. 

The kind of depression I'm talking about I call "cloud depression."  It's a type of depression that comes and goes like a cloud and it is not always visible.  It collects the depressed things that happen to us, the depression we feel and it can disappear in an instant, like a cloud.  The reason it is dangerous is because it can come on instantly and strongly, like a snowball that has been slowly rolling down a hill for years, invisibly collecting more and more snow until it hits the bottom and there is no more control of the depression. 

The problem with it is that it can be so well controlled by the owner of the cloud, that it can disappear without a trace, but will be revisited in private moments and thus is a problem because the façade of happiness is there, without the reality of satisfying moments, thus causing a flaky, shallow mirror of joy without becoming ever truly happy. 

Maybe this is everyone.  I don't know.  But it happens to me.  Someone is stealing my joy and I seem happy.  My one hope is that maybe they will die?  I don't know. 

I don't have any coping mechanisms, except the ones exhibited my mom.  Sleep and TV.  Until you die.  I still have dreams.  They aren't as colorful as the ones when I was a kid.  But they are there. 

Cup of Coffee

I have coffee.  There's a rich, woody browness to it, the taste, the smell of wet grounds, warmed.  The atmosphere hit me  as I came into the house, not thinking of anything but the fuzz of the end of the day, and the love of a small hurt dog. 

She kept sniffing at nothing patches of grass, desperately, painfully.  To me, this little dog's sweet pain is rather like love, reminding me of myself when as a child, I would think eternal things and struggle to answer eternal questions like the one she struggles with.   The sniffing is to smell the answer and as a dog, this is the most likely source of reality. 

Darting one way on the short, dusky, black leash and then pulling me to the next patch of grass, quickly, never looking me in the eye, her nose swoops and dives.  There is an ugly undercurrent to this madness, but she doesn't let me see, the hurt only glinting from her eyes.  A little hurt dog is a little upset over me kicking her butt at loving people.  She is upset that things are not always the same.  She is upset that I knew something she didn't. 

All this I drop as a skin, as exhausted, we leave the fuzz of the outside for the fuzz of the house and smell the soft, creamy scent of coffee.  It sours in the mouth after a few minutes.  I know this is my fault.  My eternal questing pain.  My doggy life.  

The atmosphere sharpens for a second, then lies down dull, as if the boring had defeated the sharp sudden pain of life.  Neither atmosphere is to my liking, I prefer slaved-over grit to outbursts of pain or a calm that can't quit. 

So to quell the sour taste, I take another (now lukewarm) gulp, but it's too late, everything is words, words, words on a page, spirited away by man's first time machine, the written word. I want to retract into my shell and hide from the world, but it's too late, I'm a slug, shell-less and addicted to writing. 

The third to last gulp tastes like sand.  I'll shove this grit you like so much into you, says life.  Gritty, sandy, the physical sensation is nothing like the spiritual happiness I had attained coming into the house. 

The second to last gulp, came wrapped in Easter tin foil.  A surprise within a surprise the wooden molecules of the particle board desk, itself.  But the aftertaste is ancient and profound 

The last sip stains my consciousness like a tattoo.  Milky and gritty in one bundle, I dread the last gulp.   I dread the end of things, and the coffee seems to stick into my gullet like a powder.  I know I'm going to get another cup. 

More exercises in positivity

 Willing into being:

The meeting with my classmates will go well. 

What I just ate will digest well, even though I practically scarfed it down. 

I don't hairpin turn. 

I have a family who loves me and will do whatever it takes to support the family.

I don't weird out and get self conscious in food lines.   
 


Genuine Positivity:

I'm full of yummy food. 

I probably passed my Spanish test, which was pretty simple if I didn't make any silly mistakes. 

I'm about to get a chocolate chip frappe. 

An Exercise

I'm feeling great today. 

I don't have problems with my dad at all.  He's always very respectful and he doesn't take up too much time.  

I have plenty of people to talk to at lunch and everything and I'm not sitting on a bench alone typing my soul into a blog. 

I'm not sad or anything.  I'm not decreasing in the imaginary polls I create in my head. 

I'm not worried about the coming election, voting or non voting.  I'm sure whichever candidate will take care of the nation well.  They are fully qualified and honest, so I have faith in them.  I'm actually happy that I will be voting because of all the benefits that come with voting.  I know my vote counts.

My attitude is great and I'm pleasure to work with. 

Also, my butt doesn't hurt from sitting on this bench. I'm not tired, but refreshed

I didn't have a sup weird dream last night, right before I woke up.

I'm not sad or anything.  Not decreased or diminished.  He must increase and I must decrease is something Paul says in the New Testament.  A lot of negative things are put forth as positive by Paul.  Death, the Cross, decreasing, running.  lol. 

This was an exercise in positivity.  All of these were false positives.  Sometimes you have to speak it into being. Now for the genuine positivity. 

I really like UTA students.  I think they are really brave and powerful.  

I didn't forget anything I wanted to remember today, when I left for school. 

I didn't understand my Spanish workbook exercises at all at first, but now I'm getting some of the answers right!  Progress. 

I still have time to study for my test. 

People are pretty simple, after all. 

Someone, somewhere, loves me. 

My butt still hurts. 

More Exposure and "Walking Depression"

I'm depressed again, but this is the depression that leads into more depression later on.  The preliminary depression.  You kind of feel bad, but much worse is coming.  You are at the gym and know you should work out but only have 45 minutes left of the time before you get your ride.  You don't go exercise: instead you write this blog and play with Facebook. 

I've been feeling masterfully guilty today.  My profesora was sick and class was cancelled.  I'm not sure of the details, but she was sitting outside of the UC and drinking some water.  I think there is something wrong between me and her.  She's like a firecracker and I'm like a spud dud.   I'm trying to anticipate her and she's trying to anticipate the needs of all her students.  I feel like a big distraction, but I really just want to learn Mexican American History, grab the credit, not be forced into some giant people mill.  Which is what we all want. 

A lot of people from Six Flags passed out because of the heat.  I wonder, could it be the heat?  It was exceedingly sweaty today and I had to change my white shirt cause of visibility problems.  Maybe it's the last heat wave until the Autumn cool. 

I am pretty depressed, but it's what I call a "walking" depression.  And I want to talk about this.
I feel sad and down, but still functional.  Like I could run forever on this pain.  It's not debilitating depression, but definitely leads to it.  Leading to a deeper depression. 

That's why I think I may need more schooling after all.  I'm planning on finishing my University Studies degree, with two more classes in the spring.  I could go for another year and get my English degree. (I'm hoping I could   And I could get a Masters in Math or Communication or Psychology, anything to keep me from working for a couple more years.  (Or I could leave UTA...*dramatically* ...FOREVER....and try a different college.) 

I assume I am practically a demon in disguise, changing everything I touch.  Careless.   Angry.  Mean-spirited.  These are the things I think I am not ever, but I know that people think I am and that I express these things sometimes.  But you know, if you don't go, you won't get the help. 

I also feel like something could happen.  I could get into that "secret society" that I've mentioned before, which is probably all in my head, but is still there none-the-less.   I could talk to people.  I know that sounds dumb. But it does take all of my concentration to say something in class or to ask a classmate for a hairband.  And sometimes I don't do it.  Sometimes I do. 

I really hate kids, especially those of my relatives and people close to me.  They are always so innocently self-righteous and want me to play games with them.  I don't know any kid games.  And am really bad at making stuff up off the top of my head.  Then they start pulling rank on you.  Because you're not automatically defending yourself like their healthy immune systems are.  It hurts my feelings.  But kids are just kids. 

This depression is manifesting itself as pain in my shoulders and arms.  There is no real solution, except going back in time and exercising.  Unfortunately time travel isn't invented yet, at least not for matter.  Maybe I can exercise tonight. 

All I can do in my profesora's case is to follow my conscience which says, I should be open to distracting myself before class, instead of trying to read my profesora's mind.  That's all me, the little one in God, can do. 

Being reminded of Six Flags, I formulate a plan to work and go to school at the same time, but I know this is useless to consider.  There's only so many hours in a week.  I can only look back and reminisce, those were good times.  It was when I was coming out of my depression and felt that I really deserved to be happy. 

As for getting more hours at UTA, I'm clown fishing it.  Coming out, and then going back in. Coming out, and then going back in.  Lol.  I'm sticking with university studies, but will ask about the dual degree in the fried and diminishing English department. 

I am a lot of bad things, but I think that's the point. You are bad, so you go to school to get good at something.   Right?  But to me, college is super elitist.  Only the best go to become the best.  And I am old and boring.  And odd numbered.  My twenties were awful.  But this Is my thirties, something good could happen. I'm worried that my talking to people could have super abundant bad consequences because of being silent so long.  You don't share, you don't care.  Bad can work. This is an idea I hate to entertain because I believe that communication is the most essential attribute that connects us to God.  We need to talk to people. It's human (not animal) to communicate. 

Maybe that's what I need to do with kids.  Communicate.  I like having little games with them, as long as the results are not depressingly not in my favor.  I don't know why kids try to beat me so badly.  Maybe I seem weak and inferior.  But I'm hoping that I can have a better attitude towards them and something positive can come out of that.  I kind of think of them as little time machines, which is not particularly helpful.   To think of them as people is the hardest thing to do because you do that, then they change before your eyes and you never trust them again.   And then you or they have to become a villain.  I'm voting that the children of the corn/gremlins are, but that's just my self preservation instinct talking. 

All my situations have a solution.  They are all solvable problems which with discussion, help and time, can be resolved.  I need a therapist desperately.  But I don't want to get one, which reminds me.  Coming off of lithium is really, really hard.  It's like you are a sun burst and then you are dipped into a vat of depression.  I don't know how I'm going to get off this morning dose.  Another solvable problem.  Time and patience.