Damaged

 It will never be ok.

If you've been following for any amount of time, you know that, in my family of 4, I have a covert narcissist father and a grandiose narcissist sister who have made it clear that everything I am is not ok. I am not normal, I am not lovable, I am unwanted, and I am a burden. Tonight, I speak of the past with their enabler.

My mom is now my closest ally. I can talk to her about most things, like how desperately I need all this to stop. However, this hasn't always been the case. Sorry mom, but I'm gonna lay it all out. You won't listen any other way.

There's a family we know where the abusive husband got his kids on his side to abuse his wife. They mock her, make it known that she's trash... All the fun stuff. My family wasn't much different.

Growing up, I was assumed to have a temper. It was the 90s and nobody thought to check a child for mental illness. Especially since that particular illness wasn't yet known to be able to be present before adulthood. My family just thought I was a terror. That still will never- not EVER- excuse what they did to me. 

When I was upset, I had a tendency to scream, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Wanna know why? Because I wanted to- what, ladies and gents?- BE ALONE! But with a narcissist for the "head of the family", I didn't get to have my feelings respected, let alone validated. No... the abusive father in MY family got my mother to join in, followed by my useless sister. 

When I wanted to be alone, and I actually voiced it, I was met with laughter, mocking, and a song with the lyrics repeating "leave me alone". Classy. Mocking an upset child.

When I bring this up, my mom always justifies it with, "We did the best we could" or "This is what we were told to do" type responses. Please tell me more about how mocking and laughing at your upset CHILD was the best you could do. And would you kindly give me the name of the person who told you to make a song out of it?

No. It's definitely not the best you could do. The best you could do was comfort or respect that child's needs. Or hell, leave the useless excuse of a human who told you he no longer found you attractive because you gained weight after delivering his kids?! The same useless excuse of a human who was abusing your child!!! 

But no... you joined in. And you continue to justify it and brush it off when I tell you how badly it broke me. You say it was in the past like that makes it all go away. Mom, I love you, but it's definitely not gone. I am broken. You helped. I may never be able to forgive that. I think only God can forgive parents who damage their child that badly. A child who, when she spoke up, was punished. When she needed space, she wasn't allowed. When she needed understanding, didn't get it.

The adult I am now was created by the relentless abuse I sustained at home and at school. In my almost 39 years, I have never known respect or peace because of those who were supposed to love me unconditionally, but instead chose to abuse me.

But ya know what? I'm still here. I'm broken, I hurt 24/7/365, and I pray to God for an end to this... but I'm still here. That says more about me than it does about the hundreds of people who have worked together to try to destroy me.

I win.

The Sign

Convenient.

I'm sitting here, crying silently... knowing that not very many people would care... praying that God lets me die tonight... thinking about my brand new bottle of a medication that would permanently drown out the pain... Then my Facebook scrolling shows me a video with the caption, "Here's your sign."

I see all these things on the news of people dying in wrecks or freak accidents, and my only thought is "Why am I never that lucky? When is my turn?"

The thing is, I'm crap. Not my life... me. I can't win. I lower myself to make others feel better about themselves, and everything is fine. I finally put my foot down and refuse to hide my intelligence, suddenly I'm a cocky know-it-all. I bow down to my abusive family members, giving more than I have in an effort to keep the peace, and all is well. I put up boundaries, and I'm a horrible person who is just looking for the negative. 

I'm tired of this. I have given all I have. I have no more.

Save me.

Hello World!

This needs to be said. 

For most of my life, I have bowed and stooped as low as I possibly could to appease literally everyone. Even my lovely friends, though they may not have noticed. I have given more than I had, lowered other people's expectations of my intelligence, and kept quiet about my needs so others can be comfortable.

Why have I done this? Because I learned at a very young age that I need to give in to maintain the peace. If I didn't, I was punished or reprimanded. When I needed something that didn't fit with the narcissistic needs, those 2... beings... won. Every time. 

Through the years, I continued this kind of behavior outside my home. Teamwork at school became master/servant. I would always give in and let others make the decisions because I needed everyone to like me. I can't even remember how many partner projects I failed because after fighting for what I knew as the right answer, my partner wouldn't give in, so I did. (Hidden) years out of high school, I still try to make myself look less intelligent so as to not offend people and make them feel stupid. And physical comfort is always given to others, while I often writhe in pain, just to keep the peace and make you like me.

The most obnoxious part of this behavior is my need to overcompensate when someone gets mad at me. A small argument about, I dunno, where to go for lunch? I immediately drop my IQ so others feel better about themselves. **("Wait, is it 'all in all' or 'all and all'?" Fun fact: I know the answer to this absurdly stupid and easy question. I just wanted you to know I'm an idiot so you like me again.)**

I wish I was exaggerating. This is my life. I'm 3(hidden) years old, and I'm done. It's time to show the world who I am. I'm putting my foot down on a lot of things. So, just a heads up...

*If I'm in pain because of your need to be 100% comfortable? I'm going to politely insist on a compromise. Either we're both/all in 10% pain, or you're taking the whole of it. Foot= down.

*When I know something, I'm not backing down. If I'm wrong, educate me. But when I'm right, accept it. I never have, and never will intend to talk down to people, but I'm never again going to tell you you're right when you're not. Foot= down.

*I have opinions, and I'm getting my way once in a while. If you insist on sushi, you're going without me. You can join me in a restaurant that doesn't make me vomit from the stench of fish, or it's TTFN. Foot= down.

*The most important thing on this list: I don't care if someone doesn't like me. I'm not on earth to appease everyone. It's not my job. I'm not begging for friendship any longer. I have my friends, and oh, have I been blessed with them! I have an absolutely amazing crew, whether we talk often or once a year, that I wouldn't trade for anything! Many have left my life, and I'm ok with that. I'm quite happy with where I'm at in the friend department.

So, be warned. I'm here. I'm not going to hide who I am, what I need, or my intelligence anymore. 

Here's to my personal revolution! 🍻 

I See

This is why I never look up.

So, a couple years ago, one of my besties slapped me in the face by telling me "I love you." This made me question my whole existence. Then, when I started posting about this, other friends spoke up, showing me that, yes, some people actually like me. Like, maybe I'm not just the pity friend they only keep around because they feel bad for me! 

This, as you can imagine, took a wicked long time to even begin to break my stubborn, thick skull. But all the work that has been done has been so quickly undone.

I've reconnected with so many friends from school after explaining how it was, in fact, me pushing them away rather than them being the problem. I explained how warped my brain has been by a lifetime of narcissistic abuse, and how I really want to get to know these people as adults. Most... don't care. 

They have accepted friend requests on Facebook, but never react to or comment on anything I post unless I tag them in it. They react to and comment on loads of other people's stuff, though. My personal favorite snub is the "like."

I have told so many of these friends how I'm there for them, I care about them, how if they need anything they can call, and I sympathize with their struggles. Without fail, I get a "like" and at best a, "thank you." The other comments from their other friends? Those get a ❤️ and fawning. "Oh, thank you! You are so thoughtful! Just knowing you're here makes me feel better!"

Every freaking time I feel better, see the bright side, or anything good happens to me... it drops, and the fallout is worse than the situation was before. Every. Time. Without fail.

I'm a grown woman, crying at the kitchen table because now I know that how I feel is actually reality. I am, indeed, an obligation. I'm the pity friend. I'm the annoyance you don't need or want but are too polite to say so.

So, no. I will not be, as I see it, begging for your friendship anymore. I have never been popular, and now that I'm grown, I don't feel the need to be. I do, however, expect the same care and respect that I show you. 

If you don't want to be in my life-- if you need an out so you don't feel awkward about saying so-- this is it. No hard feelings. I'd rather have zero contact than be brushed off as the obvious obligation I am.

To my friends who actually DO like me, I'll talk with you soon.

Absolutely Not

I will not tolerate it.

I had a friend who was never really a friend, but on my Facebook friends because of mutual friends. We all have those. When we first met, he was super cool. Very chill, considerate, and wise. Over the last few years, that completely changed.

See, people with functioning adult brains don't get upset if you vote differently than they do. I know this because I'm a Republican and have many friends who are Democrats. We don't bring it up because guess what... you are more than your political opinions! Shocker, I know. This dude doesn't get that.

A while ago, he posted a thing about "If you needed a reason to block me" and it had a bunch of far-left statements. I, having that functional adult brain, commented that I didn't care about that, and that we were still friends. That's the day I learned that he wasn't just Democrat, or even far-left. He has become radical leftist. He and his friends, with their false and entirely inaccurate accusations, got their knickers in a twist like I'd never seen. I had to turn off notifications because their wildly unhinged ideas about what Republicans believe were both comic and frustrating.

After that, he would only react and comment on any of my posts that he felt the need to argue on. Never, ever anything else. That's when I changed my post settings to "friends except" him. I'm not going to delete him over politics. That's a temper tantrum tactic used by these radical leftists that I simply don't understand. 

Then there was yesterday...

I got a notification that this guy laughed at a comment I had made on a random video where I was defending my faith. The video beeped out many words, the least offensive of which was "drugs," but thought that the blasphemous abuse of the name of our Lord and Savior was ok. Fun fact: Jesus Christ is Lord, not a curse or exclamatory phrase.

This guy, this supposed friend, saw my comment, with my name, and made the executive decision to mock my faith. That's the line that I will not move. If you don't believe in Christianity, that's your choice. But you will NOT mock my faith and remain in my life.

I have been mocked my entire life. From my narcissistic family members, to other kids at school, to teachers, and even coworkers and bosses. None of these have ever mocked my faith. I decided a long time ago that I'm not going to keep people around who mock me. Mock me, get deleted. Mock my faith, get blocked.

To this guy's friends and family who may read this: I'm willing to bet that he'll tell you a story of how the Republican couldn't deal with his views, deleting him because of how petty Republicans are. This is 10000000000000000000% FALSE. He made the decision to be a jerk. He made the decision to mock me. He made the decision to mock my faith. He's been blocked from my life for being a massive jerk directly to me, not because of how his ballot looks.

His goal was to hurt me, then make me look bad for blocking him. Classic narcissistic behavior. I will not be treated this way, and I will not tolerate blatant mocking of my faith. End of sentence.

My Uphill Journey

When does the trail even out?

I read a blip from a book called Adult Survivors of Toxic Family Members that read, "When you are constantly criticized by your family, you do not stop loving them. You stop loving yourself." That hit me. In the face. Like a baseball bat.

If you've been following me for any amount of time, you know that I was raised by a narcissistic father, and wound up with my one and only sibling following his lead. Father is a covert narcissist, sister is a malignant narcissist. This, as you can imagine, was a hell that not even the demon Crawley could have imagined. (I saw a Supernatural meme earlier, so my brain went there.)

My sister would only engage with me when it benefitted her, or when she had nobody else to talk to. And now that I said that out loud, I realize that's probably where I got the idea that I was just an obligation or the pity friend. Yay epiphany.

When we got older, after she got married, it got worse. And worse. And worse. And worse. I never knew how she was going to treat me. Was she going to give me a hug and sing the rubber ducky song (she used to call me ducky)? Was she going to be Nasty McNasty and treat me like I had killed her dog? Was she going to ignore me all together? I just never knew, and it was beyond stressful. Every time I knew I was going to have to be around her, my guard was at 100% and my anxiety was unmanageable.

I was lying in bed last night, thinking about how I loathe myself. I think about things I did and think how stupid, idiotic, and just plain freakish I was. But then I remembered. Growing up, I lived in a fantasy world. I made things up, like telling others about how I had all these friends. No. I definitely did not have anywhere near that many friends. I had more fingers than friends. There were other things that I don't want to bring up, but suffice it to say, yes, I made a LOT of things up. And now I know why.

My reality was hell. Abused by two of my three family members, bullied by half the school... Hell. I had to make up my own world in order to survive. It was my escape. It was where I felt safe and loved and wanted.

To some extent, I still live in a fantasy. I play scenes in my head where I'm popular, independent, and normal. My reality has changed as I have grown and learned, but I still don't like where I am. My illness, my awkwardness, my weird way of talking and moving and thinking. I don't like me. But I've learned that despite my feelings towards myself, I have so many more people who DO like me than I ever could have hoped. 

To be perfectly honest, I still get surprised when someone talks to me for more than one or two sentences. My oddities don't seem to bother others the way they bother me, I guess. To those people, thank you. Thank you for showing up, for smiling when you see me, for accepting me when I can't yet fully accept myself.

I have a small circle of friends who I like to call my sisters. My chosen family. I don't need biology to tell me who to have that unbreakable bond with.

I want to give a huge shout-out to Cindy! Thank you. This post was written because of what you said at the party ❤️ More to come, too.

Absolutely Livid

Beyond infuriating.

When I had to stop working last November, I went back on disability. The pennies they give me per month is, as my grandmother put it, "Not enough to live on, too much to die on".

Utah, in its infinite stupidity, has decided that the income limit for Medicaid is three hundred dollars a month less than my disability, so I don't qualify. This leaves me with Medicare. I'll say it again, these "Medicare for all" people should definitely have to try to live on it. They'd change their tune within a month.

My doctor appointments are billed to me over a hundred dollars. Each. My therapy that I have to do to continually prove my inability to work? Over twenty dollars per week.

"That's not bad" you say? Allow me to elaborate...

I have a car loan. That car requires the payment of insanely priced car insurance, ever-rising yearly taxes, hideous gas prices, and periodic maintenence. That, alone, takes most of my monthly check. 

I have other responsibilities I must pay, which leave me literal PENNIES a month leftover. But the state thinks I can pay for my healthcare. I've been very ill for a freakishly long time, but I can't afford to see a doctor about it.

There's a whole political rant this could go into (FJB!!!), but I'd rather my blog not get "cancelled" by the bleeding hearts who don't understand basic economics, let alone the American Constitution. Suffice it to say that citizens aren't priority to that side of the line.

Yes, I'm trying VERY hard to get a job, but A- my brain hasn't calmed yet, and B- have you seen the market? It's brutal out there! If you're looking for work, godspeed. 

~End rant~

I Do Not Want To Play This Game

Up, down. Back, forth. Left, right.

I realized I haven't posted since January, and thought I'd post tonight/this morning. It's late, so it could be either.

So, things had been going fairly well after I quit my stressful job. I reconnected with quite a few old friends, I started going out in public, I even got together with some friends for dinner and a movie, this past week! On the outside, I was doing amazing! On the inside, though... it's a very different story.

I'm sitting at my table, scrolling Facebook videos, watching combative idiots get arrested, and finding exactly zero joy in it. Just like everything else, these days. I smile, I laugh, I make conversation, but I'm dead inside.

I noticed the depression start to creep in about three months ago, but I kept on going. I ran face first into the brick wall of it about a month ago. No reason that I can pinpoint. Other than the "bi" part of "Bipolar", that is. It comes on without permission, and it wipes me out. I try to stay busy with things, but I slowly stopped doing those things, because they became chores. The novel I'm writing hasn't been touched in over a month, my journal is gathering dust, my Duolingo streak was broken, even this blog has become even less than an afterthought.

Since moving back in with my mom after my ill-fated house experience, and quitting my job, she and I watch a lot of things together. TV series and movies, mostly, with the odd Facebook video (Fridays With Frank. Look it up.). Movies that are absolute favorites, that I can quote in their entirety, aren't lifting my spirits. Harry Potter has been binged like three or four times. Nothing.

That dinner and movie this last week? I adore these people with everything I am... but I wasn't fully there. We were all talking (me maybe a bit too much), smiling, laughing... but there was nothing inside. I'm sure it was noticeable, as I had a tendency to bring things to a screeching halt when the tangent subjects took me down darker paths. It didn't help that I've been physically ill for a while and wasn't able to eat, having had just a Sprite. We went on to see The Mummy for its 25th anniversary. I love that movie. I quoted it all the way through. Never once did I smile.

There is one thing that's happened that gave me peace, at least. I finally banned my "sister" from my life. She came over a couple weeks ago, and she came out swinging! She was as nasty as ever, and all I said was "The battery is dead" as my mom's car was being towed away. She was at her best pathetic, petty, selfishness as she's ever been, and I'd had enough. I sent her a long text that I know she didn't read, but I kept it as proof that I'd told her I was done. I have no sister. I never have. It's 100000000000000% on her, too. When you own mother agrees that one of her children is totally to blame for the distain of the other, you know you're not getting out of it. Her father is more of a covert narcissist, but boy oh boy is she a malignant narcissist! 

There's a song by All Time Low featuring Avril Lavigne called Fake as Hell, that I'd like to dedicate to the she-narc. "I know it's better if we both say so long and thanks for the memories. I'd like to say that it's been real, but it's been fake as hell." 

Anyhow...

I'm not dying inside. I'm already dead. I wish that either my body would follow suit, or my brain would correct itself quickly. Either way. I'm not going to be picky.

I Feel Pretty

 It's been a while.

So, winter mood swings are a thing, and they suck. I'm up, I'm down, I'm numb, I feel everything... It's a ride. I know winter is hard for many people, as winter usually spells out depression, so for those affected, I'm so sorry.

I did something that I didn't know would turn out so spectacularly, though. I bought something, because that's what I do. But the thing I bought this time actually helped me perk up quite a bit. I saw an ad on Facebook for Lily and Fox nail wraps. I looked at the site, and saw they were all on sale, so I took a chance and bought a bunch. I put on my first set, and my mood immediately lifted. Not because of the buying part, but because I actually feel pretty. Self care level: 100. 

I'm not sponsored by Lily and Fox, I'm simply telling you this because the company has been amazing to work with. You can email them, and you'll get some of the sweetest replies. I emailed them to ask if I could boost them here, and they were super sweet about it. It could have just been a "Sure", but it was a "How could we turn down this offer?" Check them out at lilyandfox.com for awesome nail wraps!

Back to my point...

Self care, especially during the dark, cold, yucky days of winter is super important. Some people take it too far and wind up thinking ONLY of themselves, but little things like doing your nails, taking a long shower, binging your favorite shows (without ignoring responsibilities, that is). Just find something that makes you happy. I can't believe how much better I feel just because my nails look all pretty. 

Friends, you matter. Your happiness matters. If you're struggling right now, know that it'll end. There IS a light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes, there's a skylight in the long tunnel for moments that get you through the darkest parts.

Shambles

 That's what my life is in these days.

Since my last post, I've quit working altogether. I've submitted three times to Social Security that I'm not working now, but they're dragging their feet getting my benefits reinstated. This blows chunks because I have a few loans, and I can't ask mommy to pay them until I get disability reinstated. A- she's as broke as I am, and B- I'm a fully grown adult and shouldn't be asking mommy for money.

Since I stopped working, I've paid more attention to the novel I'm writing. Now, I know every reader out there thinks they can write a novel, but I'm not expecting much from it. I'll submit it to publishers, but I'm expecting a solid "no thanks" from every one of them. I've had a few friends read what I have so far, and they all seem to like it, so I'll bind a few copies for them, but again... I'm not expecting much.

Oh! And I'm losing my insurance on Thursday, so that's fun. I still have Medicare, but let me tell those "Medicare for all" supporters that Medicare does, in fact, suck. Badly. Need a prior authorization? Oh well, maybe next year. Need medications? Out of luck there, mate. Not to mention, that thing they said they'd cover with you only paying 20%? They lied. You now pay 100%. Good luck.

I could whine all day about my situation, but that's going to help exactly no one. So, Every day, I'm trying to find five good things. Something simple like... I saw a golden retriever, or I got a text from a friend. Focusing so hard on the good things that the bad things don't seem as big. Today, I got to visit with a friend/former coworker, which was amazing, so I count that as a good day.

Short post. The end.

Mm

 Mm. Ok.

I turned in all my computer stuff for what is now my old job, this morning. It was bittersweet. I'll miss some of my coworkers, but I'm glad to be rid of the stress of dealing with the Linda types. And yes, Linda was a real caller, but it's such a common name that I don't feel bad sharing it. She was absolutely terrible, but I never have to hear from her again. Yes, my new job will have its terrible people, but I'm hoping it'll be a LOT less.

I was able to go upstairs in the office to say goodbye to one of my favorite coworkers. That was sad. I also feel like I'm leaving an era. I was at this job longer than anything I've done since 2011. It was home for over two years.

I go into my new job on Monday to do some initial stuff, then I believe I officially start on the 8th. I'm excited for my new adventure.

My friends and family have been super supportive through everything I've done from going back to school each time, getting and quitting jobs, and eliminating the terrible people from my life. I'm truly blessed with wonderful people around me. Their support is essential for my success. I can only hope and pray that everyone has that kind of support system. Everyone trying to better themselves deserves that support. If you don't have it, I pray you find it.

The struggle in this new job is its eight-hour shifts on my feet. When I went to FanX (comic convention in Salt Lake City), I was on my feet for six hours, and I wanted to die. Prayers are now being accepted that I get used to it quickly!

You matter.

Hallow-no

 It's just not Halloween.

Halloween is my absolute favorite holiday, but this year is just... meh. I'm using my pumpkin lotion, I put out some decorations on my front porch, I've watched some of my traditional movies, but I just can't get into it. The reason? Depression.

I've been in a funk for about a month now, and I just can't seem to shake it. I took a leave of absence from work for a few weeks, which is when this all started. Going back to work was a whirlwind of anxiety and about as much energy as a snail. I even let a Linda have it when she was screaming at me, which is terribly frowned upon.

I made it the first week back at the thirty hours my therapist allowed, but last week showed me that I can't even do this job on a part-time basis anymore. I worked like seven hours last week.

I met with my boss on Friday, and let her know I was going to be leaving at the end of this coming week. I'm only holding out for another week so I can keep my insurance until the end of November. Otherwise, I'd have quit right then and there.

I had an interview Friday, though. It's a part-time, three-day-a-week job that I believe I could be happy in, and a great way to pick myself back up into full-time work. That job even offers full-time, so I could grow within that company. It's a great opportunity!

I got distracted. Back to the topic...

My love for Halloween, and the whole season in general, has been smothered by this dark cloud hanging over my head. No. Not over my head. Surrounding my every being. It's so thick that I'm finding zero joy in the things I love. 

I haven't picked up my cello in weeks. My clarinet is being used as a foot rest. My piano is dusty. My diamond art is not even half done. My movies are uninteresting. My music is boring.

I've always heard that Bipolar depression is worse than "regular" depression, but seeing my friends go through theirs, I'm not convinced. I think those who suffer with depression get hit hard in their own way. But I gotta say, this depression has been worse than I've gone through in years, and I don't know how to deal with it. I can't see even a glimmer of light through this never-ending tunnel of pitch black darkness. 

I don't want to simply die. I want to stop existing.

Epic Failure

Ten thousand steps backward...

I've worked full-time for over two years now. For most of that time, I loved it, despite having to deal with the terrible people who call in. Not anymore. I'm all but done.

As some may remember, I took a leave of absence in April and May. I took another one for a few weeks this month. When I went back, it just about killed me.

I'm sitting at my desk, ready to cry, trying to not pull my hair out because of the anxiety, thinking about throwing away everything I have built in the last two years. Including my snazzy 2024 Outback. I simply can't do this anymore.

I've already contacted Social Security to find out how to get my disability benefits back, but that can take two months, and I've got nothing put away to cover my car for a week, let alone two months. My only solid option right now is to see if my boss will let me work 12 hours a week so I don't go over the maximum allowed income for disability. I do have two interviews Friday for jobs I believe I could be happier in, so there's that. 

My brain has decided that it wants to invade again, and take over. It's hard enough to deal with nasty people on the best of days, but lately, I'm giving their attitude right back to them, which can get me fired faster than you can say "quidditch". I need the income until my benefits kick in, because I refuse to lose my car. No car means no way to get to another job, ya know?

I feel like a massive failure.

Processing Error

I don't know what I'm doing...

It's been four days since I got the apology of a lifetime, and I have no idea how to process it. I have been so full of anger and hatred for this woman for nearly thirty years, and now I can't justify feeling those things anymore. She was genuinely apologetic, so my brain knows I have to let it go, but now there's a void where those feelings lived.

Anger and hate have lived in me longer than anyone should have to go through, and now that they're gone, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I held onto them because they were familiar feelings. They were my comfort, for lack of a better word. 

I'm sitting here in the dead silence of the night, wondering who I even am without the anger; without the hate. I don't know my own brain anymore. What am I feeling? Is this what "normal" people feel? This nothingness? 

No. Not nothingness. It's emptiness. There's nothing there. I feel this black hole dragging my chest inward like a sucking void. 

I feel so lost.

It's beyond sad, in my opinion, that a person could feel so lost without anger and hate. What kind of person am I if the two worst things to hold on to have defined me for so long?

Who am I? 

I don't know.

Redemption

I'm quite literally in shock.

I sent this text to some of my friends, and it's the best way I can get this out, so I'm sorry if you've already read most of this...

My mom and I went to Sam's Club for lunch (because tasty). As we're walking back to my car, I hear someone call my name. I turned around, and she says, "Can I talk to you for a minute?" I'm super confused and have no idea who she is, until she pointed at herself and said, "Brooke." Instant rage, and I wanted to turn around, but I decided to listen to what she had to say. She starts crying and saying how sorry she is for how horrible she was to me. "You have every right to tell me to f*** off." But still, I listened. She just kept saying how terrible she was, and how there's no excuse, and how there's no way to rectify what she'd done, but she's sorry. Legit crying, so I assume she's genuinely apologetic. I gave her a hug because I never even thought this day would come, and I had no words. Well, I did tell her about how the Japanese people will repair broken things with gold so that something broken can be beautiful. It was cheesy, but it just came out. She said how gracious I was and how good a person I was for listening to her instead of walking away. 

My brain is silent. I have no idea how to process this.

What's more is that she apologized to my mom for what she went through watching me go through the torture and torment. She hopes her kids don't wind up like she did, and I told her with the knowledge she has now, she'll be able to help her kids understand how to treat others. 

I'm not crying. I'm not laughing. I'm... in shock. I don't know what to do or how to feel. This girl tormented and tortured me from age eight, all the way through our senior year of high school. Through memories and nightmares, she has tortured me for the eighteen years since high school. That's roughly twenty-eight years she's tortured me. I have no idea what to do with this. 

I do, however, think I feel calm. I think I've forgiven her. I think this will change my life, as well as hers. We even took a selfie as picture proof that this happened. I won't post it in here to protect her privacy, though.

Rest of my life: Day One

The End...?

 Or just an intermission...?

I'm at my limit. The stress of my job is affecting me mentally and physically. My sleep is awful, I'm gaining even more weight, and my brain feels messy. Why? Because my work decided to make the world's dumbest policy changes.

To start out with, we're no longer allowed to use doctor notes. At all. Ever. For any reason. Why? "Because it's a HIPPA violation." (Fun fact: When the note is freely given, it's voluntary, not mandatory. So no, it's not a violation.) Then, to try to straighten out the bad seeds on the team, we've all been punished with the most asinine adherence schedule. Now, we have to meet minimum 85% adherence-- no waivers for absences thanks to the no doctor notes rule. We must meet our "budgeted hours" every week, which is fine. My favorite, and quite possibly illegal part? If there's a holiday that the company is closed, like Labor Day, we have to either use PTO or manage to overwork ourselves by getting in the additional eight hours during the rest of the week to meet those budgeted hours. That's TWO hours extra for the remaining four days. 

"Lots of people work four ten-hour shifts. It's not that bad." True. But those people aren't me. I can't do that. Fine for others, not for me. 

Because of this idiocy, I'm on the razor's edge of quitting. In fact, I'm contacting my disability lawyer in the morning, before most of you will get a chance to read this. I'm calling off sick tomorrow because of this stress, and I have an emergency appointment with my therapist tomorrow evening. 

My life is crumbling beneath me, and I have no idea what to do. I've worked so freaking hard to get where I am, but the bridge from my past and my present is on fire, and I'm praying the last rope holds out long enough for me to find another position.

Adding on top of this is the sale of my house. I closed on it today, which makes me feel like a massive failure. So there's that.

These last two years have been fun, but it turned into a living hell in one swipe of the company pen

My life is no longer in my control. I just have to trust that God knows what He's doing, and I have to accept the path He has given me. 

.

I Try Not To

 ... but still wind up doing it.

Hello. My name is Charmaine, and I have a problem with focusing on the people who don't like me.

For my entire life, I've been the one people don't like. I'm the weird one who is the easiest target, in literally every situation, for bullies to find. I don't know why (other than I'm socially awkward), but if there's someone who can make themselves feel better by stepping on others, you better believe I'm the stepping stone they'll use. It started with my narcissistic father, spread to my narcissistic sister, and blew up to monumental levels when I hit school. It's even followed me through my adult life, which is particularly sad when you think of fully grown adults who need to step on others to feel better about themselves.

When I worked at the bookstore, I didn't read the "right" kind of books. When I worked at the music store, I didn't listen to the "right" kind of music. At my current job, my IQ and maturity levels are higher than junior high, so I don't fit in with the bombardment of "you're a grossy gross" "no, you're a grossy gross" and such childishness. 

Not fitting in has given the insecure individuals in each group a firm step on me and my refusal to change who I am to adapt to what I "should" be or do.

I'm me, and I'm not ashamed of it. But those people-- the entirely insecure ones who need to feel superior-- can still make me feel like the 11-year-old child in me. The one who's on the ground, curled up in a ball, getting the snot kicked out of her by the school bee-otch and her henchmen. 

No matter how much I tell myself that I don't care what others think... I still care what others think. Maybe not as much as I used to, but it still hurts when I get these people flat-out saying things as to how I'm not good enough, not smart enough, not cool enough. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm trying very hard to understand that there are people in my life who actually like me, but I'm not quite to the level where they mean more than the bullies. I'm in my mid-30s and still struggling to understand that I'm not the pity friend or the obligation. 

Likewise, I'm in my mid-30s and still struggling with bullies. If you're still dealing with being bullied after high school, know that you're not alone. Those people exist in a sad, sad world where they don't believe they're good enough, so they have to use you to step up on. Work on ignoring them. I know I'm still working on it. 

You can do it. I believe in you.

Belittled Sister

 Never good enough.

My narcissistic, so-called sister came over Sunday night, and as usual, overstayed her welcome by several hours. She was at my house until after eleven o'clock PM, with me having to get up for work the next morning. This is not unusual. She'll come over to visit her narcissistic father for an ego-stroking fest and stay no less than six hours. With both being narcissists, you can imagine how that goes. It's all "You're so great" and "Oh you poor victim" on repeat. It's both nauseating and infuriating. The ego boost they both get has them both on "Look how awesome I am" and "Me, me, me..." for days.

As we all know, narcissists never see anything wrong with what they do, and they are always the greatest person in the room. As hard as I try to ignore my so-called sister, I somehow still wind up pleading for her approval. It's gross and I hate myself every time. I'm honestly looking forward to the day where I don't ever have to see her again. (Which will mean my mom is gone, so let's deal with the she-witch for a while longer, eh?)

Anyhow, her royal highness has one high horse that irritates me to no end: She thinks her taste in music is superior because "I listen to deep music". Florence And The Machine, Passenger... Anything that makes you feel like a victim, basically. Now, I'm not knocking these artists. I like them! But this narc feels she has the moral high ground because she doesn't know the lyrics to a single song played on regular radio. And, oh, the look she gives me for listening to All Time Low could tear down the strongest of Gray Rock people.

I've never been bullied out of liking what I like, and I'll be damned if I let her do it now. I feel like a pathetic little worm for letting her make me feel bad for liking what I do, though. 

Mickey, bite me. I like ATL. I like One Direction. I like Hanson. I like some things played on the radio. I like what I like, and you have no right to tell me, in your narcissistic way, that I'm a lesser person for it. In fact, I'm stronger than you because I I don't tell you you're wrong for what MUSIC you listen to. What a pathetic life you live, stomping down people who aren't up to your standards. It's MUSIC, for crying out loud! Should I tell you you're not as good as I am because you drive a white car? It's that stupid.

Adding to this is her need to be the most knowledgeable person in the room. She's always right, you're always wrong, and if you don't take her advice, she gets this look... eyes closed, nose turned upward. The epitome of snob face. Add on top her tone of "you just killed my firstborn" and you feel the need to apologize and tell her she's right. I no longer follow these reactions with placating responses of adherence to her wisdom. That's one thing I've managed to conquer. I know what's best for me and my life, not her. 

She and I have never been close. Well, we were... until she started kindergarten. I was two. Since then, I've never met her standards. She so desperately wanted me to be exactly like her, but would freak out and scream "I'M AN INDIVIDUAL" if I was even remotely like her. I couldn't like a song she liked, I couldn't wear her old clothes, I couldn't do anything to please her. Our mom even takes my side on this. Mom knows it's all older sister's fault that we don't get along. One hundred percent on her. I've tried. I finally gave up. I'm me, and I'm happy with myself.

Mickey, I hope that one day you get help with your narcissism and become a good sister. Until then, you're going to be frequently offended as I shoot down your every criticism of me and who I am.

There Goes That

One step forward, ten steps back.

I bought my house and my puppies. Both I worked very hard to get, and both slipped through my over-stressed fingers in record time.

It was going so well, you know? I got everything I needed for two Golden puppies, I got a professional mover, and everything was just perfect. Then the other shoe fell. The house has no heater or air conditioner, leaving me with just a fireplace and a super outdated gas heater. Neither of which heat the house enough. With the never-ending winter, I was in pain, I was so cold. Even my eyeballs were cold! It was bad. Add on top of it that my work computer decided to go out, and my first week there was Hell on steroids. I drove back to my mom's house so I could get warm, and so I could get my work computer fixed. 

I went back to my house, and started having, like, ten to twenty panic attacks a day. They'd last anywhere from a few minutes, to a few hours. It was unbearable. So, I drove back to my mom's house, again. Somewhere in the mix, I had to surrender my puppies to the Humane Society because I couldn't handle them, either. I took on too much, too soon. They'll both go to great homes who can give them what I couldn't.

Now for the unexpected, and highly annoying plot twist...

I couldn't handle life, let alone work, so I'm taking a leave of absence for just under 2 months. I'm scheduled to go back to work as of June first, but I'm hoping to be back sooner. I feel like I'm leaving my team in a bind, which doesn't help my mental state, but I'm working hard, seeing my therapist twice a week throughout my leave, trying to get back on track quickly.

Last, and possibly the most painful... I'm selling my house. I lived there maybe eight days total. I feel like a freaking champ.

I'm not in a good place, these days. My meds were upped and therapy is intense, but I refuse to lose completely. My ability to work full-time came too slowly, and I worked too hard for it to lose it, now. There'll be another house, and probably another dog, but my job is something I can't replace. I may work at a call center, dealing with the usually disgruntled public, but I love it. 

It took me over ten years to get a job I love. Ten years of hard work. I'm not giving it up. That's all there is to it.

Positively Possible

Out with the bad, in with the good.

I've had a negative outlook on the world for as long as I can remember. I've always expected people to not like me, avoid me, and bully me. That was my life, though. Since the third grade, those have been my experiences with people. Even as an adult, I expect people to be that way. But the catch is... it's not always that way.

Expecting people to treat me poorly has actually made me treat them poorly. Having my guard up 24/7 means I'm all business with cashiers and I tend to take the smallest slight as a battle cry. This, as you can imagine, doesn't turn out well. Most of the time, anyhow. It's not something I do intentionally. It's just automatic due to conditioning. That's going to change. Starting last week.

A page I follow for the absolutely adorable Golden Retriever pictures, has actually become a kind of friend. The one running the page has some good common sense and wisdom. She(?) said something about eliminating the negative things that occupy too much space in my brain, and filling that space with positives. This is my new goal. 

How does this work? Let me tell you... I don't know. I've only been working on this for a week. I've taken one tiny event in my life-- one that has created disproportionate resentment-- and I've been picturing it dissipating (like when Voldemort turns to ash). When those pieces get higher, they turn to butterflies. So I'm not just trying to get rid of the thoughts, which let's face it, never works... I'm releasing it, and learning from it. 

It happened. I can't change that. What I CAN do is learn from it. I learned that, when you're dancing and you drop your prop, dont pick it up. I also learned that, when my teacher railed on me for it, she was young. She may not have known another way to explain how what I did wasn't protocol. And she, like many young ladies, was a perfectionist. That's ok. She's grown, I've grown. It's not worth holding on to.

Now to fill that space with positives. No, I'm not going to replace it with a good memory. That would be redundant, as those good memories already have their space. I'm going to find new things to put in that space. I don't know what, and I don't know when. I just have to look for anything positive, which requires me to actually LOOK for the positives that happen in my daily life. And if I'm going to FIND these positives, I have to let the wall down. I have to allow myself to open up a little and accept that, maybe people aren't so bad, after all. 

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