Volume Control 

My mind is pretty chill. It’s strange. I get to give myself positive feedback and tell the negative ones to go fuck themselves. It’s taken a while to get to this point but it was worth it. I still have depression and anxiety but the fear of it being a life long battle has lessened. I know it’s there. I still have the same thoughts and voices in my head I’ve just figured out how to control the volume a little more. 

Let’s get down to business 

I’ve neglected this space for a while now. I’ve thought about it often but haven’t sat down to make the effort. I could go back and fill you in on what’s happened but then by the time I get to the place I want to be, I’ll find a way to avoid it again. I guess this is my way of focusing and forcing myself to jump right in instead of hiding from myself. It’s time to think, feel, learn, realease and move forward. This is me trying. 

The void is still there. It never went away. It’s lurked around, sulking that I’ve been ignoring it or too busy to give it the time of day. I knew it I hadn’t gotten rid of it forever but that I had found a way to cope, to deal. It’s really no difference now than before except I have the better skills. 

I’m feeling remorseful and discouraged. I guess I’ve had it in my head that since I have the new skills I wouldn’t have the same feelings. Logically, I know this isn’t the way. Emotionally, it seems tragic that I’m in this place again. 

I now reserve the right to use this place for my thoughts, for my feeling. You also have the right to disagree or agree or have no feelings about this at all or anything in between. I feel like something is missing. Something is out of place. Or not there at all. I don’t feel like I’ve lost it cause that would mean I had it in the first place. The self that was raised in the country where there are churches close enough to throw rocks from one to another, would tell me that I need God. I’d used to agree with that but I’m not sure if it was my true self or the one amid to please others and do what was expected of me. The self I am now, at this current moment is unsure. I don’t think it’s religion I’m missing or the concept of religion. There is this hole, this pit, this emptiness where I believe my depression had taken a piece of my brain and is using it as a host. Maybe it is a higher power that I’m missing but I’m not finding comfort in this thought or any pull. Maybe it’s exhaustion. Or just depression with a side of anxiety. Or anxiety with a side of depression. Whatever it is I don’t want to feel more empty than I do happiness or satisfied. 

Which comes first? 

Which came first the chicken or the egg? Which comes first a job or a place to live? 

My job contact ends in June. My apartment lease ends in July. I need a new job and a new place to stay. I need money to pay for the roof over my head and I need a roof over my head to get to rest for the job. 

We could literally go anywhere. Anywhere! We could stay here. We could go there. We could go back to our parents. I don’t want to go back to my parents. Aaron is going to move in July with me. We are making the next step of living together. 

We both don’t have jobs lined up right now. Or a place to live. It causes a sense of panic in myself. While Aaron is “it will work out”. I know it will but we take different approaches to making it work out. I’m looking for places and jobs and locations and prices and budgets. He’s…ummm looking at what I sent him. 

We’ve talked about how he has a more laid back, it will work out, wait it out, it’ll fall in my lap type attitude. While I’m over here practicing breathing techniques because I’m about to lose my shit, frantically clicking all the buttons at once trying desperately to figure out if it’s the chicken or the egg. 

We are both trying in our own ways to figure it out. We are in the process of finding middle ground. We are trying to have open communication about our thoughts. 

We’ve both applied for some places to work. We also went to look at a place last weekend. We are actively looking. 

He found his bother a job. His brother got the job and starts Monday and will be sleeping on my couch while my roommates gone. I’m glad his brother has a new job but I’m kind of salty that it isn’t Aaron coming to stay with me. I’ve thought several times Aaron was moving in and it hasn’t happened yet.

Now we need to discuss more things like is his brother going to live with us? Is his brother bringing his boyfriend to live with us, Is the boyfriend bringing his cat? Rent would be cheaper but what about the levels of sanity? Would it still get to be a place I look forward to coming home to if more people are living there? Do we want my current roommate and her two cats living with us? Are we getting a dog? Are we going to try to foster dogs? 

Which comes first? A place to live or a job? The chicken or the egg? 

GRE

I’ve put off taking my GRE for a little over a year now. 

My plan was to take it before I completed undergraduate but that didn’t happen. Then the plan was to take a year off school then go back. That also isn’t going to happen because I’ve put off taking my GRE. 

I now have it scheduled for this Saturday. I’ve been studying but I’ve continually have the feeling of I could be doing more. You can always be doing more when it comes to studying and school. It’s a constant stress that you feel guilty for taking a break from. 

I’ve been struggling to actually comprehend what I need to learn for the GRE. It’s generalized testing, which isn’t my favorite. What’s the probability that what I learn will even be on the test? I could spend hours learning more about exponents and fractions but what’s the actual chance that figuring out how to do them will benefit me on the test? 

What ifs, what if, what freaking ifs keep crawling their way into my brain. They consume me. They blacket the potential forward momentum with its doubts. 

Does it even matter? Do I even want to go to graduate school? Do I want my masters? My doctorate? School nearly kills me every semester, correction, I consider death as a possible solution.
School becomes the only thing I know. It’s the only thing that matters. I could be doing more and I’m not so therefore I’m a failure.

I cut myself off from the world because of the guilt I feel when I’m not doing school related things. There isn’t a balance. I hear that graduate school has no balance for people that normally have balance. What happens when an unbalanced persons does more unbalancing things? Graduate school may be the end of me. 

Backing things up about 17 steps, I have the GRE on Saturday. Am I prepared? Well, depends on who’s standards your going by. If you’re asking me personally, do I think I’m prepared? No, never will be, I’ll never be good enough. 

Writing 

I’m kind of scared to start writing again. I know that writing this has only helped me. It helps me validate what I’m feeling, realize when my brain is overreacting, connect with other people who are going through similar things and just the general letting my thoughts be out there instead of stuffed inside my head. 

The anxieties towards writing my thoughts down have been prominent since I was younger but there for a while I had the “fuck it” mentality and just did it. 

Maybe I’ll start trying again. It’s not the worst thing I could be doing. Actually it’s probably on the top 5 positive things I could do for myself. 

I become very self conscious. I know my writing skills are lacking, my grammar and punctuation are a joke and my spelling, well my spelling is shit. Then trying to get past that obstacle to the harder part of actually saying what’s going on and how I’m coping and feeling about the situation. It’s terrifying. I’m not really sure how I was doing it before. 

Maybe restating that it’s mine. This is my blog. Where I have the ability and the right to say what’s on my mind. It’s not going to be perfect. It’s not supposed to be. It’s raw and it’s my truth. It’s my place to be open. It’s a place to let the judgment on myself be challenged by my own writing. It’s the place to release and let go of my inner voice. 

Welcome back blog? 

God I hope so. 

Moving?

Aaron didn’t get the police academy spot. He applied back in May and jumped through all the hoops. He got all the way to the end and Friday they called to let him know that he didn’t get it. I’m so proud of him for trying and following through.
I don’t know what we are going to do now. He was going to pack his things and move the two hours away from home and live with me and my roommate. Now there isn’t a plan. Does he move down here without a job lined up? Does he stay home and continue working at the grocery store and volunteering at the fire department? He’s getting work experience, connections, people skills and being a part of something bigger than himself at the fire department. He’s also two hours away and traffic is hell when I get off work on Fridays to then see him for a few hours on the weekend. I hate that drive. It drains anything that I had left from the week right out of me. I drive there with Bella to then hang out in his moms basement with him, his brother and his brothers boyfriend. We don’t do anything cause we are both tired from work or trying to rest before the next week. If we do anything we go to the only Walmart in 25 miles that everyone else goes to. I strongly dislike Walmart. I strongly dislike my emotions right now too.
I don’t want him to give up the opportunities or the positive aspects of being at the fire department. They have done so much for him and he’s grown so much since he started there. I also don’t want to keep our relationship like it is. I don’t want to keep seeing him every other weekend for a short amount of time. I don’t want to keep arguing over weekends. I don’t want to keep begging for him to schedule times to be here. I don’t want him here just working at a grocery store, it will drive him nuts.
I was terrified of the thought of him moving in. I also thought that he was moving in back in May but that was just a misunderstanding on my part and a miscommunication in his. Since May I’ve worked on it. I’ve figured out some of the things that were scaring me. We’ve talked about it and made this open line of communication. I bought him a dresser and made space in my closet. I’ve made a spot for his stuff, at least the stuff that can fit in the apartment. I’ve explained that you can’t complain about how you don’t like my towels if 1. You don’t live here and 2. If you live here and don’t like them then buy ones you do like. I broke down and bought new sheets. I bought Bella a bed because we’ve agreed that he gets crankier when she sleeps on the bed. In return makes me crankier cause he’s being a butt.
It’s not his fault that he wasn’t accepted into the academy. He didn’t do anything wrong or dumb. They just said he didn’t have the experience. Which I understand! It’s an entry level job but you need experience and education. You can’t have one or the other for most jobs. If someone with both applies then they don’t choice the newbie normally. I get it. I really do. I’m not blaming him for not getting the job. But now what?
Now what? I’m so tired. I am so fucking tired. I’ve been tired for what feels like so long. I’m scared that I’m ready to push the pause button. That I just want to push him away and be by myself for a little bit. I was trying to be ready for these big life choices and now they aren’t happening. I am still terrified of the idea of him moving in. I was getting nervous the closer to time for him to move in. Was this the right choice? Is this what we wanted? Is it what I wanted? Could we manage to pull this off? He was willing to move here and I was willing to let him move in. It’s how going along with the normal way relationship work, which made it okay? I was scared of what if he moved here and then it didn’t work. Now what if he doesn’t move here and it doesn’t work? I’ll be alone more and here more but is that what I want? Do I want to keep going like we are now? Getting to see him every now and again. Do I want him to move in still?

Talkin With Grandma

It’s difficult to write. I know it helps to sort stuff out in my brain but that’s only if I write about things that I am trying to process. Or to let other stuff out so there’s more room in there.
I do well for a while and writing isn’t that bad. Then when my brain starts being an asshole again it gets increasingly difficult. By the time I’m really in s dark place it seems impossible to write which is when I need to release my thoughts the most.
I guess I’ll do the back story before getting to the now. Growing up my mother made a point for us to see blood relatives. Once a week we would go to my grandmothers house and my 3 great aunts house (they all lived together). My mother tried to take us to see my fathers side of the family as well. My father wouldn’t go with us but my mother would take is to see his mother and his father when he was in town. My grandfather on my fathers side used to drive tractor trailers and didn’t live in the same state but we saw him regularly. Then one night I remember the fight my parents had about how my dad didn’t want us to go see his family anymore without him, that it was making him look bad. He didn’t want us to see them unless he went. My mother fought back that we would never see them again if we were to wait for him to go. That was that. We didn’t go back unless my dad was in the car. I think we saw my grandma on Halloween one year and for Christmas two years. My mother would make comments about how he never saw them or called or took his children to see them. He would brush it off. They never made the effort to come see us. That’s just how it was.
Now to present day, well close to present day. I graduated in May from undergraduate majoring in psychology and sociology. My mothers, mother helped me move to my new apartment, helped with funding some of my expenses, got a smartphone so we could text, ect. My fathers mother doesn’t know what college I went to. My father didn’t know my cell phone number until a few months ago, I’ve had the same number since high school.
Now to present day. The week of Christmas my mothers father found out that she has cancer. The sentence my mother keeps using is “she’s eat up with cancer and it’s growing fast”.
I don’t know how to process this or how I’m supposed to feel. I know that whatever or however I feel is acceptable but I don’t know how I feel. Maybe it’s empty. I don’t really have any connection or fond memories or memories in general.
I don’t live there and probably won’t get to know her any more now than I did growing up.
She has asked for the grandkids to come see her so why not? I made a plan to go to my parents house and go see my grandmother. It ended up being a whole day event. My father made breakfast, we went to my mothers mother house, then to my fathers mothers.
When I was sick I asked if for family medical history. My mother was able to go back to great grandma had high blood pressure and probably diabetes but they didn’t know it was that… My father was able to say everyone is fine and always has been. I ask specifically do you have…does your sisters have…nothing. So when I was at my grandmas house my dad wanted to show me how he fixed the bathroom floor, shower and sink. While I was in there, on the shelf, was anti anxiety medication with my grandmothers name on it. I was so pleased with myself. I knew it I knew it! It is genetic for me! Muhahaha. I has so very proud until I left. Then I was disappointed with myself and my family. We don’t talk about this stuff. We sweep it out the door in hopes the wind will blow it away. This is the very subject that is incredibly dear and close to my heart and I didn’t speak up. I didn’t say a damn thing. I still was alone in my knowledge of something I wasn’t even sure about.
I tried to let it go. I tried to forget the feeling. I thought about calling to ask but it just didn’t seem like the right way to bring it up. I wanted to know more. If I knew more maybe it would help me understand. Or have support or closure or hope or guidance or anything. This opportunity had laid itself in front of me and I let it stay there. Not doing anything which is the very reason I’m so frustrated with my family. Damn it.
On Monday, I was driving back to my apartment just thinking about how I wouldn’t know if I didn’t ask. If not now then when? When would I decide to ask? On her death bed? After she dies? After or before a chemo treatment?
She lives right off the highway I was driving on so I took a deep breathe in and decided I’d go ask for myself.
I’ve never just stopped by at her house. They saw me pull up and didn’t know who I was until I was at the door. They didn’t know I had a new car maybe they didn’t know I even had a car at all, I’m not sure. She seemed confused and excited that I was there. I explained that Bella was in the car so I didn’t have long but I wanted to talk about something. I wanted to ask about mental health in our family. I straight up asked my grandmother if she has or had anxiety or depression. She calmly but abruptly said yes. I told her that I’ve tried to ask Dad but he doesn’t know about any of the family history. She then proceeds to tell me about other family members and their bouts with mental health. I learned that she is currently on medication ever since her husband found her with his gun. She said she just didn’t want to do it anymore. She said that the only people that knew about that was her husband one of my aunts and her doctor who prescribed the medication. She also told me about how she really noticed the change when she found the Lord. She believes the Lord delivered her from her depression.
I am so glad I stopped to ask. I wanted to know and now I do.