Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Are We The Waiting...

starry nights, city lights coming down over me... skyscrapers and stargazers in my head... are we, we are... are we, we are the waiting unknown... this dirty town was burning down in my dreams... lost and found city bound in my dreams... and screaming...

Will any of us ever really be happy? I have been struggling with this question for a very long time. Maybe even my lifetime so far. And maybe that struggle won't ever stop. It's a tough question to go back and forth with because there is no answer. There's no right or wrong. It just is what it is. You can't do research on it. It's just this question that hangs there, waiting for an answer that will never be.

I come from a broken home. It was better off, trust me. My parents are two very strong personalities and if they had stayed together, one of them wouldn't have made it out alive. That's a fact. You put two hot heads in a marriage and it's bound to end up in disaster. All good. I'm strong like bull because of it. On the outside at least. On the inside, I'm a 30 year old mess. A beautiful mess, but a mess. And I'm messy and fucking complicated and I hate spending time alone when my mind has time to drift into crazy-ville and I have time to think. It's horrible. It's torture actually. I spend most of my alone time beating myself up for my mistakes, regretting some (read: all) of the stupid things I've done in the past few years, crying about how I'm not happy, I have no money, I'm surrounded in bills, I have a shitty downstairs neighbor that aggravates my whole fucking life... you know, the usual.

I'm 30 years old and I'm not married. I choose that. I have to pay for my own wedding. Momma said, and I quote, "I'm not paying for your wedding. I paid for everything in your life so you're father could fucking spring for your wedding. It'll be the only thing he ever fucking paid for." Which means, in retrospect, that I'm going to have to pay for my own wedding. So unless someone is throwing me a benefit, that's not happening any time soon. I refuse to settle when it comes to that. I'm a typical cliche girl who has dreamt about it her whole life, give or take a few years, and I'm not having a wedding that I won't love or isn't exactly what I want. That sounds lame I'm sure, but whatever. It's just one more excuse to not get married right now. I come from a broken home, and I'm hopeless when it comes to this lifetime commitment shit. I have a great special friend in my life, it's working right now, I don't want to head down the aisle until I know that I will be okay. I am not about to ruin his life...

Everything is so uncertain around me, it's hard to get my bearings sometimes. I rely so heavily on what my heart tells me to do and when my brain catches up it basically tells me to go fuck myself. And when that happens, I go to the dark place where I cry about bullshit because that's what I need to do. Special friend and I had a talk the other day about how I've been talking in my sleep. I've been in a really dark place because of it. Scared to go to sleep, don't want to wake up to a mad special friend. It's like I can't win either way. And so I said I would go to therapy to try and fix it. He doesn't offer to do it, just says that I should go. The other day it dawned on him that this really isn't my issue, it's his. Because I have absolutely no clue that I'm doing it and I have no recollection of it when I wake up... I just know it happened because he's pissed. He told me he doesn't want me to go to therapy. He knows how much I love him and he's not going to let this bullshit ruin our relationship. It felt good to hear him say it. Because I was hanging out in that really murky place for a few weeks and was starting to really hate myself.

I'm in the process of weaning off the anxiety meds. What a pain in the ass. I get these zaps, as I like to call them. They are like split second nerve zaps that happen way to many fucking times a day. And of course I googled it (yes, I googled "nerve zaps") and found that it's a direct reaction to lowering my dosage. GREAT. This should be a great fucking process. Anyway, I don't know if I'll actually ever be okay. And that scares me. I used to be carefree and just go wherever life would take me. Now, it's just constant fear. Fear that I will hurt special friend more than I already have. Fear that I won't ever get to the place where I can afford a wedding. Fear that I won't get to have babies because I'm never gonna be able to move out of this studio apartment. I'm so tired of being guided by fear, but it's where I come from. It's what's been instilled in me for as long as I can remember. So now I have stomach ulcers and I clench my jaw so tight that I get migraines, but I don't know what else to do. I should just give it to God, trust what I know. But I can't let go of that fear. It's so much easier said than done.

So will any of us ever be happy? I know I'm not alone in my battles. None of us know what we're doing. I just think that the people who seem okay just know how to hide it better. They don't wear it right there on their chest like a scarlet letter like I do. This is life. We just go with it. Day in and day out. We convince ourselves that we're okay even when we're not. We're fragile when we don't want to be. And we're happy most of the time. I don't know anyone who lives in that cloud of pure, total and complete, jam a spoon down your throat, fucking happiness. Except for Heidi Klum and Seal... but I just read about them in the US weekly, so they don't count as people I know.

Anyway, stay strong little roots. I know I'm gonna do my best. And sometimes I'm gonna bitch and moan and cry and go take a trip to my dark place... but I always come out of it. At least I know that much...

Thanks for reading...

the rage and love, the story of my life...

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

My Occupy Wall Street Post...

I'm not starting with a song today. A lot of songs come to mind when I think about the last 2 months in downtown NYC. I may or may not bring them up throughout this post... we'll see.

I woke up this morning to a text from one of my best friends telling me to be careful going to work this morning because there was a lot of shit going on downtown. I immediately put the news on, trying to get a grasp of what was actually going on and what I was in for when I got off of the subway. When I turned on the TV, I was crushed. I obviously have not been occupying Wall Street. I work a few long blocks away from Zucotti Park. Honestly, before September 17th, I had no idea that park even existed. That sounds stupid, I'm aware. The thing is that I work in corporate America, but I am very disconnected. I just kind of go to work, and go home. I don't work within the stock exchange, I have no idea how to even invest in a stock. I choose to be like that. I am drained a million percent of the time and I don't have patience to deal with the stock market. Now I'm rambling.

When the protest first started, I'll admit, I was like "WHAT THE FUCK?" That was the beginning of day 3 for the protesters... it was a manic Monday morning for me. A day I already dread was now going to be even more dreadful with the thoughts of having to push my way through protesters to get to my job... I was oblivious on that Monday morning. But as the day went on, I wanted to know what was going on. I did some research. I opened my eyes to the streets around me and realized everything was barricaded. I opened my eyes and I wanted to know more. Days and weeks passed and I found myself wanting to read the paper to see what was going on. I searched every OWS website. I started following @OccupyWallStNYC. I opened my fucking eyes.

They stopped bitching and started a world wide revolution. They are brave. They are strong. The took an idea and made it a reality. So many of us are struggling. So. Many. Of. Us. I am a part of the 99%. And it ticks me off that my tax dollars are going to the bonuses of people who don't need or deserve it. That money, millions and millions of dollars, is going to people who don't do good with it. And that's fucking sad. I have a mortgage, a car loan, credit card bills, utilities, the usual. I have literally, NO savings. And yet, I give to every charity, my church AND I sponsor a little boy in Kenya. I recognize what I have and know that I am more fortunate than some. They are brave and strong and I respect them for what they've done so far. I've watched them and I know that fear guides me. I have serious anxiety issues and just watching this shit on TV makes my stomach scream. But to know that they did this. They started this and they plan on finishing it, and well I respect that. My ass isn't sleeping outside or fighting for OUR rights. And they've earned respect.

This morning when I turned on the news, I was shocked. Yes, things may have gotten a little out of hand there. Yes, it is unsanitary and the park did need to be cleaned. Yes, people have been joining in with the protest who have no business being there. The people who are taking advantage of the people fighting for a cause. That shit is not okay. And I get where Mayor Mike is coming from in that sense. But his responses to protest talk have been all over the place and completely inconsistent and I can understand why people are hating on him. What went on this morning was a raid and a half and it was sad to watch. I can't even imagine what it felt like being there.

My issue today is the ignorance. I was ignorant at the beginning, but I wanted to know more. I read a status update on Facebook stating that these people should have learned their lesson and should just go home. That no one cares, that the protest didn't work. My jaw literally dropped. It's close minded and ignorant. If you don't know about it, if you didn't do the research, don't make statements that you can't back up. I've learned that life is not only black and white... there is grey. The grey is where your mind will open. I know I can't walk around with blinders on, and that's why I finally took them off. How can you say the protest didn't work? It's world wide. WORLD. WIDE. And it's not over. Evicting them on the fly from Zucotti park, while people were probably sleepy and groggy, didn't change anything. It just moved them to a new spot. No one said "fuck this, guess we should go home." They stood their ground. And that's ballsy and awesome all at the same time.

Things need to change. They're fighting for us. For the people who struggle every single day. Telling a protester to go get a job is the lamest thing you can say. Has anyone sent out a resume recently? Even if you're qualified it doesn't matter. It's not easy to go out and get a job. That's the fucking problem. We are in the worst economy EVER. And it needs to get better. Shit needs to change. And they're fighting for that change. And they deserve respect.

Keep fighting the fight you guys. Keep it peaceful. Thank you for what you're doing. You're changing the world every day that you're doing this and it's fucking amazing...

Thanks for reading.


Tuesday, November 8, 2011

A Beautiful Mess...

well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write kind of turn themselves into knives... and don't mind my nerve you can call it fiction 'cause I like being submerged in your contradictions, dear...

It's been a weird couple of weeks. Weird is the word I'm using, because I'm not actually sure how to describe what I'm feeling. Weird works right now. As usual, I'm stuck in my mind. Feeling crappy one day and fabulous the next. When does this shit end? Like when do you start believing in yourself and believing that you've managed to create something substantial out of the crap hand you've been dealt? Because I need to start believing but I don't know where to begin. I feel like I can lift myself up and feel good about life, but there will always be something that I allow to bring me down. Well there's the problem, wow.

I need to stay on the up and up... and in the same breath I believe that life needs a balance of good and bad. But I need to learn how to let the good linger even when the bad comes around. I let the bad eat me alive so bad that it becomes my primary focus. And that's really shitty. I'm a good person, 90% of the time. I don't even know what I'm talking about so if you're not following, that's totally fine...

I'm just so tired of being a wreck. I haven't been sleeping. My back has been killing me lately. I'm just tired. So on a day like today where everything was good and then I had to be a jerk and look up my ex's profile on a dating website... sigh. Then I went ahead and actually read it. And now I'm pissed. I want to punch someone. Because everything he described, he had. With me. And I'm annoyed. Because this shit has consumed way too much of my life already. And seeing that shit, reading how he's looking for a serious loving relationship with a girl who is family oriented (me), outgoing (me) and self sufficient (me)... kinda fucking pissed me off. Like a lot.

I don't understand life. I really fucking don't. I have spent a lot of time concentrating on all the wrong things. But I can't stop. I'm like this horrible obsesser. I am wasting my life away on nonsense... but I feel like I can't stop. Like my brain can't turn off when it comes to all the wrong things. And the right things, well I just go ahead and take them for granted and potentially push them away because I have unsettled daddy issues and I instinctively create chaos around me so that people don't stick around and I can continue being the victim because I do it well. That's fucked up! But I can't help it. I can't stop. And I have to. I am just so fucking angry with this Casanova profile I read today. Because you had that you stupid asshole, and you threw me away like fucking garbage.

I just don't know anymore. What a mess. What a horrible mess. A beautiful mess. A beautiful disaster. I'm all those things. I'm not normal. I may look a little normal on the outside, but I'm a total abnormal, horrible wreck on the inside. I've made it work all these years, but I think it's catching up to me. I can't run from it anymore. It's here and I have to face it head on and change. And it may be great, it may suck. But I gotta push through the bullshit. I have to stop caring what everyone else is doing and start taking care of me. Because one of these days I'm going to implode and that's not going to be good. I don't wanna get to that point.

So for now, I'm gonna get back to work and finish watching Going the Distance. And tomorrow is going to be a new day. Clean slate. I'm going to forget about this lame-o profile and start fresh tomorrow. I can't make any promises, but I'm sure as shit gonna try...

Thanks for reading...

and what a beautiful mess this is... it's like taking a guess when the only answer is yes...