Today

I'm in kind of a funk. Not to mention I want to yell at the mom who is letting her small child kick the wall repeatedly and loudly right now. Grrr...

Anyhoo, not sure why I'm in a funk. I mean I don't feel my healthiest but I don't feel my sickest either. Maybe if I stopped sitting in weird position. My back doesn't feel the greatest.

Okay I can guess why I don't feel great. I spent most my day just zoning out on Facebook and Amazon Video. It's not necessary. I don't know why I numb myself with such activities. I mean I love looking at all the FB updates but when you're reading the same stories over and over again.

I was just averse today. Averse to talking, calling, getting things done. I have so much to do and I don't want to do any of it.

It's not like I was depressed or anything. Just tired. And cold. And whatever. Exercise probably would have helped. Why don't I do the things that make me feel better? What the heck is wrong with me?

And what is with my self-defeatist behavior. Let's see...reading...reading would help right now.

The Meaning of It All

My therapist issued me some homework. I was supposed to think of a time that hurt me. Not physically, emotionally. When I was younger. Something that created this dissonance between my judging and being judged. Between my wanting to be myself, and wanting to be approved by others. So of course, I can't stop thinking of it. I was inspired tonight by an episode of Westworld. Very much focused on psychology and sociology. A very fascinating program. Anyway, I lie there in bed thinking. Why? Why am I this way? What happened? I tried to bring myself to think about how I felt about my Dad. How I felt about my step-father. About my life as a child. I recalled never being good enough for my father. I've always known that. But ultimately, because of that, I never truly felt that my father loved me either. In addition to that, I never felt loved by my step-father either. He always creeped me out. I never even felt comfortable being alone with him. Not sure why, just still remember that. My biological grandfather never spent much time with me. My other grandfather, Gene, spent some time with me, but he eventually left. My Dad's father was a sweet man, but I rarely saw him. My ex-husband was crazy and did say that he didn't love me when we married..."he grew to love me." Even my relationship with my current husband is complicated. I think for once in my life, a man truly loves me, and I still don't believe it. I spent all of my childhood feeling unloved. Unaccepted. And granted my husband can be a bit critical at times, but logically I know he loves me. But I really can't comprehend it. I guess I can't feel it. And what's more, I'm afraid to. The few times in my life where I embraced love, I was burned by it. My father. My step-father. My grandfathers. Even my husbands. I fear it. I fear love. I fear being loved. My only experience of love, at least with men, is wrapped up in an experience of only being accepted if I fit a certain type. My father was always critical of me. I can't quite remember the exact words or phrases, but nothing I ever did was good enough. I was overweight, lazy, not clean enough, not smart enough. He was always telling me phrases like "work smarter, not harder" and "come 'on Amy". So of course, I'm broken up. I'm afraid of being myself. When I don't care what others think of me, it's truly from a perspective of either self-defense (fuck you, this is who I am) or tentative trying (I'm going to say something that's totally me and see how you take it.) Any for of criticism from the latter always set me back. Still does. I just don't know how to be myself, not give a crap what others think, and still feel loved. That's pretty much it in a nutshell. I'm afraid if I'm myself, I won't give a crap about other people and therefore won't give a crap about being loved or even feel loved because I won't care. Can I care without caring what others think? 40 years of working like that...hard to turn back. One last thing, I was thinking about the judged and judging aspect. Why do I judge? To keep people away. I tend to judge more when people hurt me. Not that unusual I think. Why do I think people judge me? Because those I sought acceptance from, where the worst to do it. But I thought of those I don't judge. I can only think of two people right now. Nic, who is a non-threat. Always been sweet and very honest. And Vicki. Good old Vicki. Why? Why Vicki? And then I remembered. She reminds me of my mom. So much she reminds me of my mom. Her laugh, her mannerisms. Her smile. It's like she was reincarnated. It's insane. Anyway I'm about to go to bed and didn't want to lose those thoughts. Plus I hear weird noises. WTH? Goodnight.

The Insanity of It All

So I was just driving myself crazy trying to figure out food. Like I can literally go insane looking around at various options, cost-effectiveness, low-carb. And so I took a moment, paused, and thought, "Ugh, why do I make this so hard? It's just food. Why do I obsess?"

So I figured rather than drive myself crazy...I'll blog instead.

See, I have OCD. Clinically, I have been diagnosed. I suspected, and went to the psych, and she confirmed, "Uh yeah, you're definitely OCD."

Not the, I need to turn a light switch off and on exactly five times. But like I will spend hours on end trying to find the right budget and menu type.

I have so many goals, task lists, to do lists, projects, it's not even funny. And I can feel the anxiety building in me. Just stirring up. And franticness. The kind that allows me to think, "If I don't figure out what to eat for breakfast that fills me up, is low-carb, helps me lose weight and is inexpensive the world will fall apart as I know it."

*Deep breath*

You may wonder how one arrives at this place? Well the low-carb is from wanting to lose weight. I started a program that will benefit me financially if I lose 50 lbs in six months. I needed motivation. I'm tired of being overweight. Sick of it. Finances are short right now, so it needs to be inexpensive.

I know these all sound like normal things. But when I think of the failure. Losing money from losing the weight bet. Spending too much money and being short. Picking the wrong thing so either I'll be starving or my husband will hate it. This drive me nuts. Okay, I guess literally nuts.

So I need to take a big breath. And relax. And just eat.

Busy busy

So I've been feeling much more productive lately. With Ridley now in school, even though hours are pretty much the same except earlier, I feel like I have more time to focus on myself.

I downloaded a language teacher...Russian...and a meditation app...Centered. I also have been trying to visit with family and friends more often.

One thing though...Ricky has his heart tests today. Of course, I'm worried, but more about him and his well-being, emotionally and physically. I'm there to support him no matter what but it's a scary thing. I love him. I adore him. And I hope everything comes out well.

I learned that my friends father is in the hospital today. He has colitis and a black mark on his lung. The biopsy didn't show anything but fuck. Dad passed, he took care of himself...well, relatively. He WAS a racer driver. Mom passed, but she had all kinds of illnesses since teen years. Now my friends dad. I mean, heck, why would I bust my ass living a life I'm miserable with exercising, eating ridiculous foods, being "safe", when literally anything could happen to me? Not to say I don't want to live a relatively healthy life, but I'm not going to obsess about it. Anything could happen, at any time. At least with my Dad and my Dad's friend they got to live full lives. My mom was screwed. Sick for as long as I could imagine. Putting up with shit relationships. Hard times, debt, Fuck that! I'm going to live my life to the fullest and truly enjoy it!

As the saying goes, I want to come sliding into the Pearly Gates screaming, "That was one hell of a ride!"

Nobody reads this anymore...

So I'm going to feel free to share my thoughts and feelings without any restriction.

I was laying in bed last night. For some reason thinking of people who think of suicide or perhaps even homicide. And for some reason, it came to me that perhaps just the ability to imagine it on paper would be enough to hold back the want to do it.

I don't know. Odd thoughts always fill me head before sleeping. But regardless, this inspired me to start writing again. And hopefully start doing my cartoon again too. That medium I will share with the world, friends, family.

However, right now I want to share my frustration. In my own head, I've slaughtered her a million times. Stuck my knife in her belly. Slashed her throat. I know, it sounds harsh and dramatic. Believe, I know it does. I don't actually wish her ill will. If I saw her in person again, I'd probably breathe a deep sigh and say, "While I can't be your friend again, I want you to know I feel for you." In my head she always responds with a small thanks and a grateful smile. But sometimes I wonder what her actual response would be? Would she lash out and say "Fuck you bitch!"

I wonder if she still talks to him? What they say? Or is he completely honest? Do they never talk anymore? These thoughts ate me up before. But now, I say no more. I won't let those things which I can't control or even prove, affect me. I will no longer be in a funk. I will control my own emotions. I will judge my life and relationships on the tangible and the observable.

I think sometimes, I'll probably still strangle her in my head though.

So much has occurred...

The past week has been full of drama and suspense in the family!

First Ricky got a call back from his doctor in response to his testing. Worried as hell we had to wait a few hours before seeing him. Everything passed though both of our meds from cancer to STDs. (It's like being pulled over for speeding, you still wonder if there's a warrant for your arrest for a 10 year old ticket that more than likely never existed.) Once we got the doctor though, we learned his diabetes was just seriously out of check. He prescribed meds and an all plant based, whole foods diet. I think Ricky would have rather been diagnosed with cancer.

Thursday I went into the psych. That was quite the experience. I hurriedly explained my childhood and adulthood in 45 minutes. We covered everything from the roommate (which I don't think she was so pleased by) to my anxiety in general. I told her about my fear of going to hell for the big A word and she told me matter-of-factly, if not a bit irritated, that the bible was written long ago by a bunch of old, white dudes. So not sure how to take that. Then she told me I need meds. Or rather I should get checked for meds. So I sat there and told her how uncomfortable I am with meds and she explained that it would probably be good for me. That I've been like this all my life, so essentially I'm crazy. All in all, I wasn't exactly sure how to feel coming out of that session. Change is never comfortable but it was all so weird. She also told me to stop focusing on lists, and focus on myself. I think I know what she means, but my 45 minutes was up and she was hurrying me out the door.

Saturday we went to Phils for his birthday. There was more kids than adults there and we all came back home feeling bloated because we ate meat. Ugh.

Okay, my mind is done. The roommate came out and for some reason she drives me nuts. Like just nuts. Enough for today. I have a full set of things to do.

How can an hour be so long?

Okay granted, it's slightly longer than one hour. From 1:30 to 3:00 p.m. This is the time we have wait to see Ricky's Dr. His test results are back and I'm on edge. Probably much less than him, but fuck, shit, cunt. I'm allowed to curse. If any moment requires cursing, this would be it.

I hope it's a moment which I'm being overly dramatic. I hope we get into the office and the Dr says to cut back on meat. I hope he's low on Vitamin D. At this point I would love for it to be an STD. But for now, my mind will impatiently tap it's foot and try not to think of the many possible outcomes.

I heart my husband immensely. I will be there for him no matter what. I just hope that "what" is manageable.

Coloring my hair

Ricky said for his birthday he wants me to dye my hair again. Of course, it looks horrid right now. And I need to decide what to color it, but part of me feels guilty for spending so much money on something so trivial. I feel like all of our money goes to trivial stuff. Pop figures, video games, movies, apps, hair, clothes, an overabundance of food. I'd really like to try to get a handle on this. We spend way to much and we were doing really well and just fell off the wagon with the tooth and the bike. And now my hair. Grrrr... Well hair can come out of birthday money or whatever I guess. But still... I started reading the Art of Happiness, but I'm hesitant to believe it can help. I feel so guilty for everything. I feel so bad because there are so many people out there starving and hurting and I'm doing nothing. Well I donate "some" money, but come on. Ugh.

When it rains, it pours

Ricky's face is all swollen like a puffer fish and he says he feels lightheaded. The plumbing in the house has decided to go crazy. In addition to the fact that the landlord is coming out tomorrow and I need to fix the bathroom shower. The bike that Anne gave me requires a new tire, brake pads and a flush. HorrorCon and Comic-con and the boys birthday is coming up. So needless to say I have a little to stress about. On top of it all, a close friend of ours is waiting to hear about a new job outside the state. And there could be a good possibility we could move as well. So much to think about. So much to be anxious about!

Bike Incident

So I now have my Dad's lovely bike. 2003 Harley Davidson Heritage Softtail. I knew that bike was big and had a lot of horsepower. However tonight Ricky suggested I take it out for a spin. It started all good. I was a little shaky...and a little nervous. I took the turns wide. And felt a bit shaky at each stop, but figured after some practice I'd get better. So I hit a stop sign. Stopped. Felt a little shaky but continued onward. Ricky rode behind me ensuring my safety. Next Stop. Downward slope. Stop sign. I stopped. I fell. I felt it immediately. That loss of control. It started to fall and all I could think was, "Don't get pinned. Don't get pinned." It was my worst fear come to fruition. I lifted my leg and the bike fell below me. I started to feel heat on my other leg and I abruptly left to the side. I looked down and then I looked back. Ricky was right behind me. He rushed to my side. Lifted the bike and said, "I don't know why you went this way." I looked all around, he was right. But I was trying to avoid other obstacles down other paths. I took a deep breath. I survived. He jumped on my bike, and I jumped on his. His was much lighter than I remembered. When I first rode it, it felt so big and bulky. Now it felt lighter than air. I rode it back, a bit jittery at times. Partly due to my mental state after the accident. I circled around a few times, but much more secure in my ability to ride this lighter bike. I finally came back to the elevated carport, partly scared that I would lay another bike down, but I made it up the curb and the hill and the carport columns and stopped the bike. I made sure I was in neutral, turned the key, and got off the bike. Ricky rode in next to me. I threw off my gloves and helmet and doubted my ability to ride again. I shouldn't be so scared, so frazzled, so jittery. I was told that every biker lays down their bike at least once. It was a big bike. I knew this. It was also unstable ground. But none of this mattered. I failed. And it was a dangerous fail to boot. All the warnings from my friends and family rolled around in my head. Lord know I've done dangerous things before. Learning to drive. Learning to drive a stick shift. Speeding. Having a baby. But this new experience...I had to remind myself why I was doing this. Dad's bike meant a lot to me. I wanted to learn something new again. I wanted to be good at something I felt completely awkward at. Like learning a new job. Getting into a new relationship. Being a mother. Why am I doing this? Because I have to push myself beyond my comfort zone. I need to. I'm just freaked out because of the risk. I was always not a Daddy's girl in this way. He always ribbed me for my lack of risk taking. I can do this. I just need to do it smartly.

I'm tired and bored

I know half of that is my own fault. Our roommate said the other day, "I don't know how you guys stay so busy." It's true. And being still just drives us nuts. I'm doing the e-meals thing along with grocery delivery and buying from costco only once every two weeks. Not having to think about food, makes it so much easier and saves so much time. But now, what do I do with that time? I'm always tempted to clean house. Organize. Do work. But hell, these are not the things that memories are made of. Granted we do live a pretty full and wonderful life. We're broke most of the time because we use our money for good times...birthday bashes, family get togethers, brunches, DND matches, yes...I said DND matches. We just started. It's so fun. But every once in awhile I end up with a night with nothing to do. I sit my butt on the couch and watch tv and think about the time that I'm wasting. I simply don't know how to relax anymore. I can't appreciate just sitting. I feel guilty for not volunteering somewhere or enhancing my childs life and education or spending quality time with my husband. But I'm also so freaking tired. Perhaps I do need to learn to relax. But in a "turn off the tv and really relax" way. Like "sit in the yard and let the wind blow through my hair while I read" way. We need a nice yard. You know what...next project. Nice yard!! Goal set.

What to do with my life...

I came to the horrible revelation today that we're all living our loves to the acceptable pattern set forth to us by society. Even our rebel natures seem to be a set path, just slightly different from society. I've been watching a new tv show and somewhat questioning what I've done with my life. So obsessed by with what others think...clean house, lose weight, get a job, eat healthy foods. But just because I'm aware of what I don't have to be doesn't mean I know WHAT to be. What do I want out of life? What do I truly want? I want to LIVE life. I want to experience raw emotions. I want to experience joy, and pain, and amazement. But in order to achieve this, I have to start thinking differently. I have to let go of petty emotions (jealousy, annoyance, hatred) and start working on other emotions (acceptance, amazement, joy.) So I suppose the first step is looking around for books that help me do that. Start meditating. Start doing things that are healthy for me to do emotionally.

What do I want to be when I grow up?

I admitted to my husband the other day that at this age, I thought I would have everything together and all figured out. Isn't that the expectation? I would be comfortably wealthy, happy with who I was, and fairly intelligent and happy. My happiness is weird though. I love my husband and my son. They both can be exasperating at times, but ultimately they make me happy and feel loved. But myself...well that's a different story. I feel out of touch. Out of it. Exhausted. Unable to actually achieve any goals. I have no willpower whatsoever. I bet there is some book out there about it. I want to control everything but have absolutely no control over myself. What's more, I have an inability to become close to anyone anymore. I suppose I should see a therapist, but for heavens sake I already owe tons of medical bills. What do I do? I suppose I should focus on the being tired. This distracts me from doing anything else. So what makes me tired? - Lack of sleep? - Poor diet? - Depression? - Lack of Vitamin D Hmmm, I've seen doctors about it before. The only real answer was Vitamin D and those levels are back up again. So what is it? Probably a bit of everything above. I should probably flowchart my goals out. No I suppose I can write them. :-) Off to ToDoIst!!

The bitch

I really should blog more often. I don't see a therapist (although quite frankly I'd never see a therapist, always a psychologist or psychiatrist, but that's another story) so I should perhaps at least jot down my insanity somewhere public where people can read it right? It's funny. I tell people all the time what a horrible person I am. I'm a horrible bitch. People always say no, that I'm super sweet. I think they're crazy. But then again, I never really say what's in my head. I've become more detached lately. It's probably due to now being an orphan. Sounds like a weird thing to say at 40, but it's technically true right? Whatever, say what you will, I have no parents anymore. After my Dad passed away I knew I was sad, but affected? No way. Of course, I'm solely blaming it on my parents. I highly doubt they're the only reason. A shitty marriage, a broken home, a tumultuous relationship, two parents, two cats and one dog all dying within 7 years of each other? I'm become jaded. I kept moving further and further back emotionally from people and now...I feel like Raven from Teen Titans. Constantly seeing the negative in people. Wanting people to be perfect. I wasn't always like this. I used to always wear my heart on my sleeve. I never really thought of other people critically. Well sometimes, but it wasn't the norm. I was always there for people. Empathetic. Then something snapped. I adore my son and my husband, but I still feel like an empty shell. I recognize in my head that I shouldn't be so critical. I should love and accept and be there for everyone. But the other part of me says, "Fuck it. You're tired and there is no one around that cares. I mean people care, but not enough to ask where you've been if you were to disappear for awhile." Yeah that jaded. I fear that part of it is this overwhelming fear that I'm going to burn in hell. No one ever talks about that, right? Christ loves and forgives and accepts. But I'm a divorced woman, remarried, living in sin with a bastard child (who I adore, don't get me wrong) and who I would never turn away from. I don't tithe, I don't go to church, I support gay marriage, and I horrible with my money. There are children in other countries starving to death and I'm worried about what type of band I should get for my watch. Seriously? I should burn for that right? Don't give me that tripe about, "Nooo, but Onyx, you volunteer, you help people, you're not mean." We all make excuses. Excuses to make others feel better about who they are and what they do. So what am I going to do? I suppose I need to make changes. Really evaluate my relationships with others, my relationship with God, what is going to make me happy. I'm just scared that the only thing that will make me feel like I'm not going to burn for eternity is give up everything and give my life to charity. Or lots of money. But I know I need to fulfill my financial promises first before I can take care of others. But still. I need to be better with my money. Clear up those debts. Then I would have the ability to help others better. I can still volunteer my time. I guess I really just need to reevaluate my life and actually follow through with it. So *sigh* what would make me feel better that I really tried to be a good Christian without sacrificing my role as wife and mother? 1) Plan to volunteer and give. I need to clean up our finances and bills in order to free up money to donate the way I want to. 2) Reevaluate spending. What's just gratuitous and what's needed? We already have a good home and a good life. What isn't necessary? Identify when I get into my crazy "We have money, let's spend it" attitudes. 3) Stop focusing so much on the damn computer and media. Put it down. Actually spend time with people. Reconnect. 4) Study the bible. Not just the revisions but the actual writings. All of them. Look at what Jesus really said. I know, all of this sounds crazy. I'm a crazy person. A person of faith who is conflicted. I love passion. I love fun. I love being open and honest and crazy. But I don't want to burn in hell and I want to help. lol

Simplify...

How exactly will I accomplish this? Granted I already have, but I feel I've regressed a bit. - I need to go back to shopping for two weeks at a time. This allows me to spend time with my boy before dinner. So what else can I do? Let's think about time wasters during the day: - Making breakfast and lunch in the morning. (Hard to get around this one. Need as fresh as possible. But perhaps I could plan out the menu options better. Take the thought out of it.) - Picking out clothes in the morning. (Pick out clothes at night.) - Prepping food for dinners. (I could do this ahead of time when I bring it home from groceries.) - Finances: I'm constantly checking and updating. (I put everything in Bill Pay. Stick to budgets. No extraneous spending.) - Putting Rids to bed. (Need to sleep train him!) - Getting Rids ready in the morning. (Wake him up at the same time as me. Get ready, do chores while he's waking up. Make games out of getting ready.) - Notifications! (Opt out of emails) What do I not do much? - Vacuuming (get a Roomba!! Will this work over my different floors?) - Mopping (Make a game with Rids!) What stresses me out? - Dirty carpet (Make sure I take the dog out, rent cleaner) I guess this is enough of now. Other than what am I going to do with my extra time? Probably play with Rids. Spend time with Ricky. Read a book. Or be bored out of my mind.

I want to be sexy again!

What started this? I'm distracted...Blacklist is on. Anyway, I was driving home...Oh! That's it! I went to Costco. I bought new panties. They're a bit granny-isa but so silky. Very nice to wear. Ricky mentioned me being sexy in t-shirt and underwear last night. Got me motivated. I'd like to feel sexy again. Again, I feel guilty spending the money, being so selfish. Perhaps if I can be nicer in other areas, I can feel less guilty about this. What is WRONG with me?

Vanity

What harm could a little caffeine do? Famous last words. I'm sitting here jittery as fuck. I've only had 1/4 a coffee that was chock full of creamer anyway. Well cream. And now my fingers can't stop shaking and I feel like I'm tweaking out. Great. Just about 4 more hours of this. I put a reminder in to write in my blog daily. I know it's supposed to be cathartic, but half the time I write something out and then end up not publishing it because the thought enters my mind, "What does it fucking matter anyway?" Not even sure why I think that. Like my thoughts aren't even interesting enough for myself. I know I'm not doing this FOR anyone. Just myself. But even I get bored by me. I dyed my hair pink today. Well pinkish. Half my hair is still red, so it's like red and pink. But I want to bleach it now and go full pink. Gone is the conservative Amy and in with the new fun Amy. Of course, as soon as I start doing things like this, the ole religion pops back up in my mind. "Why are you doing this? You could be putting your money to something useful, like saving a starving child in Africa or Phoenix." or "Stop being so vain. When you do this you're just looking for people to tell you how nice they think your hair looks." and "Ricky didn't even say anything about it, why did I do this? Does he even care anymore?" So yeah, that's my fucked up head. Thinking always. Always judging myself for EVERY SINGLE MOVE or THOUGHT I do. This morning I ran the gambit of berating myself for using profanity in my mind and thinking maybe pick hair was too frivolous to thinking I was too vain to thinking I waste too much money. I mean, what if I get up to heaven and God is all like, "Yeah, you gave away money and tried to help people, but it still wasn't enough, you greedy, vain, little person you." To which I'll be sorely disappointed, but slightly impressed that he used the word "little" to describe me. Oh vanity.

Realizations

I think it would be in my best interest to pick up the blog again. I have way to many issues and not enough money to see a therapist. So next best thing... So, we went to go see Deadpool the other day. Awesome movie. There are so many things I could say about this movie, but quite frankly about a bill-yun other websites have already said it. So instead, I'll just share my person actualizations about this movie and the population in general...I mean around me. So whenever I see one of these movies I get extremely amped up. I want to be a badass. I want to kick ass. I want to take the names. I want to be that guy on the screen. Deft, agile, totally cool and totally violent. My body literally starts getting all antsy and I just want to pop up and bash someone in the head. Not like in a violent way, but in a "your gonna start shit with me? I don't think so!" (I told you I have issues.) I assumed everyone had this reaction. I figured scores of people came out of that movie, just looking to cause damage to the first person that looked at them wrong. They ran out of the theatre for a seamstress to create their new hero spandex suit. So on the way home, I asked my respective carmates what they wanted to be when they grew up. The answers? #1: "Comfortable" #2: "A writer" What?!?! You never wanted to be a super hero?? Especially after watching movies like that?!?! Seriously?!?!?!?!?!!? (was that enough question marks and exclamation points?) HOW COULD YOU NOT?!?!? My poor little brain exploded then. I just assumed the world wanted to save the world. Does this make me obligated to start figuring out my hero colors? Do I need to start taking krav mega? I mean, if I don't, who will? Then my mind start drifting too, "Well, being badass is super cool but honestly your a freaking christian. Pretty sure christianity is about THE OPPOSITE of kicking butt. So maybe you should just like, volunteer and give back to community." So yeah, I need to do that. I do the occasion Smoke Walk. I give my $1 at Walgreens when the signature pad asks me. I give a buck or two to the homeless guy on the freeway ramp when I can. But maybe it's time to step it up. I'll still take that Krav Maga class though. ;-)