#and I’m feeling inadequate and shitty and lazy and stupid

[fractallogic]

“I mistook rainy days for overcast days” when planning a trip to the PNW. In the fall. When you hope to see the sun for the eclipse.

Bless your heart

“Can you pick up eclipse glasses for [friend]?”

I mean I will try to remember to do so, but like, you’re asking me Wednesday evening when I’ve written off all need to have to track any down because we’re all grown-ass adults who can take care of themselves, and I also sent you the article about it last week, AND the partial eclipse is still visible for you if you weren’t coming here, so some places are apparently selling them!

[notworking-com]

you make me feel inadequate. i’ve been trying to put this misery and all the damage that comes with them into better choices of words so i can manipulate them into some trashy poetry and make some good damage out of it, but that’s just it. looking at you, thinking about you, all the sudden impulses in crowded places like i was back in tenth grade again and have never grown out of it, that’s all it brings. the feeling of inadequacy, immaturity, anxiety, pictures of ships sinking, regrets, reminders of incapability and might-haves, insecurities, resentment, jealousy, brief admiration, before follows up again with silent screams and buried shouts all echoing the same things.

i wish i’m as smart as i was. i wish i’m as pretty as others and have a pleasing smile and a collected manner and is always grateful and have a melodic laugh. and i wish i’m dedicated and not lazy and don’t spend most of my time listening to sad songs while wishing too desperately that i’ll be sick so i won’t have to go out the next day. i wish i could be the way i was, maybe then i could have what i want for myself, being aboard and out of this place, and get you to notice me. i wish i could be different, i wish i’m not the way i am. i wish i’m better, and i wish i have not turned out the way i did. and i hate mirrors and cameras and pictures and reflections and food and sometimes i feel like i want to carve my face and my body into something i actually like.

i get jealous of people now. so jealous it’s unhealthy. i know it will come to bite me someday. as a lesson for having a black heart and acting immature at the age of sixteen. i wish i can be like her, or her, who has the patience the size of the seven seas and is always fun to be around. i wish i’m not one of those people who feels like they have to broadcast their pain indirectly but loudly on their face. i wish i’m not like one of those people who craves to be seen.

i will see people i don’t know on my screen, and think that if only i had been like them, maybe i will be on the right track for once. maybe i will achieve what i want. maybe then i will like myself. maybe then you will like me.

sometimes i want to strangle you for making me so acutely aware of everything i am now. i was happier when i wasn’t. but now that i’m out of that blissful smoke of ignorance, i can’t go back anymore. i hate whatever it was under my skin, they don’t feel right. i hate the way i’m standing, sleeping, writing, walking, running, reading, i hate everything.

and i feel so low. i wanted to cry at the station, i can barely be nice to people, i’m so tired and i’m not even doing anything. i want to call off sick tomorrow but i don’t look weak enough to be sick anymore. i’m shitty to my friends, i feel like i’m more capable to be nicer to strangers i’ve seen around, which is so fucking messed up. i want to stop time, but i believe time has its personal vengeance against me and i can’t control it.

i‘m easily irritated, i’m not accomplished. and if i’m not nice and kind, then who am i anymore? i’m not smart, i’m not fast, i’m not easy going, i’m not competent. then what am i.

i just keep thinking about how he will go on do great things, and so will her and her and her and my sisters and people who are younger than me, and i keep thinking about how all i will do is watch them and see them grow while this regret and resentment and bitterness will only grow until a monster of a sort will form itself within the depths of my body, uncurling at the ribs that used to get hurt when i was laughing boisterously with them. how i will spend the rest of my years regretting being young and stupid and paralyzed by things in my head, and that no one will ever look at me anymore with horrible expectations, but something even worse. pity.

[composedclutter]

A little self reflection Sunday

I wonder if I project stupidity on others when I myself feel inadequate. 

Do I belittle? Am I a gas lighter? 

One of my exes and I would get into arguments about how I would make a fool of him in front of others. This was not intentional, or that I recall any of my jokes being made with that purpose. 

My humor is smart alec and sassy. I like to jab, I like to poke, I like to stir up a little. I do it with the hope I’ll get the same humor in return. 

Keep it light, don’t be too mean or raw. A couple jabs, a little clowning helps you not take yourself so seriously. 

However, It seems my humor is often misplaced with my significant others and I’m wondering if its just misplaced in general. Do I do more harm than good? I intend the one liners to be zingy and playful, not hurtful and irritating. 

Maybe I’m not as good of a person as I like to think myself to be. Maybe I’m selfish and mean more often than I am lighthearted, kind and charismatic.  Ouch. 

That’s a big pill to swallow. I wonder if its because I’m a people pleaser. Are my comments built up frustration from people pleasing?   Are my mouthy comments the way I communicate I’m insecure- I attack others to take attention away from my flaws? 

I can do well at surface level, I can be seen as sassy, smart and cute. I do great at introspection, I’m quick to call myself out on how shitty I’m being or what needs to change so I can improve but any other type of communication in between, I’m a consistent cringe fest. It's as if I lack depth. Maybe I do. Maybe this whole persona I have of myself is wrong. Maybe none of the previous mentioned positivity is accurate. Maybe I’m a POS. Maybe I’m actually seen as rude, lazy and extra. 

If it sounds like I’m spiraling, DING DING It's because I am. Grab me some Zoloft and call it a day. 

But honestly, maybe I need to make some alterations. I should think before I speak but its not fair because as soon as I’ve thought something, its revealed on my face displayed for all to see like a prize - insert Vanna White. I wish I could control when my thoughts and my emotions show themselves in my expressions. 

Twice now he’s expressed that I talk down to him, I use a tone that makes him feel like I think he’s stupid. How ugly is that? I love this individual whole heartedly, I give him everything I have. It stings to hear that. It hurts to hear that I’m feeding into a negative environment. I want my love to be tender, to be warm and inviting, to be uplifting and honest. I want it to be like a protective barrier around the person I love. I don’t want them to feel like they’re less than me or anyone. That they can’t be themselves or that they can’t communicate with me. 

I am arrogant. All these writings are what I want and don’t want. Gross. What about what others want from me? Now I feel like I’m going to play a game of tug o war between people pleasing and being selfish. Is there no balance? Or do I just not know it? Is it a pick your battles type game - sometimes you need to play the selfish card? 

Say less. That’s what I need to do. Just zip my lip, better to say nothing than something I regret. I’d rather bite my tongue than hurt other’s feelings. 

He’s right though- I do change my energy. I can’t help it. I get the same uncomfortableness I did with Ryan. I feel like sometimes when there’s a certain amount of alcohol in the system, he acts like a jackass. He’s a little mean, sometimes irritating. He’s slurring some words, having trouble keeping his balance, not quite coherent- isn’t clearly stating his thoughts. So communication is really hard for me because I know he’s buzzed or drunk so I change my tone or the way I state things because I don’t want it to be misinterpreted in that state of mind yet here we are.

Sometimes I’m scared that I’m just arm candy. I had a friend once say that too much passion and PDA can be bad because the focus of the relationship is in the sexual way versus mental and emotional. I just think that’s how he loves - physical touch is the priority. It makes it harder for me because I have my own insecurities with physical touch but I’m growing into my own and I want to be an all embracing partner. 

I just need to relax. I need to just do what I need to do for myself and love and speak to my partner and anyone in the way I’d like understanding, patience, kind words etc.

[honeymoonjin]

confessions of love are best done sober - taehyung x reader

Thanks to @taepurpletae (http://taepurpletae.tumblr.com/) for requesting this! It comes from prompts 31 and 33: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” “Prove it.” Word count 1.6k. 

Kim Taehyung was an enigma. On campus, everybody knew his name, and about two thirds of the campus had had the honour of his tongue down their throat. In your friend Sunmi’s words, he was an equal opportunist slut.

There was no denying how much he got around at every frat party, but you found it so hard to reconcile with the Kim Taehyung you used to know.

The little pudgy kid you met when you were eight, with the big ears and the polo shirts that were always a little too big. The two of you were inseparable for almost four years, until he left shortly before your thirteenth birthday with no goodbye. The teacher told you his family had moved cities, but you could never get over the empty seat next to you.

And now here he was, at the same university as you, whoring around every Friday and Saturday night. You had heard from some friends in his agriculture class that he was quite a good student, but all you ever saw of him nowadays was at frat parties as he made his way around the dorms, kissing everyone in sight.

In fact, it become such a phenomenon among students that he even had a literal belt – Gucci, naturally – that he would carve little notches into every time he made out with somebody he hadn’t before. A couple weeks ago, the belt had actually fallen apart in tatters, but the metaphor still stood.

Maybe it was petty of you to glare at him and shove him away every time he came near to you, wanting to add to his collection, but your standards were higher than that.

You knew not all men were pigs, after all. One day in your early teens you had received a letter in the mail from an anonymous sender with a poem written inside. You, who had already begun getting acne and stretch marks and who had very few friends, had somehow received a love letter from some secret admirer.

As childish as it was, some part of you still wished for a love like that to come back around. Someone who would woo you, who would be romantic rather than sleazy, who would treat you like the only girl in the world, rather than a rung in a very long ladder.

Kim Taehyung was certainly not the kind of man you needed in your life.

The frat party you were currently at was smaller than most; that perfect lull between orientation parties and pre-exam freak-out parties where not much was worth celebrating. These, in your opinion, were far better than the larger events, and so you decided to treat yourself to letting loose a little more than usual.

Your friend Sunmi had disappeared into the bathroom about twenty minutes ago to help a girl who was being violently ill, but you were too many shots in to really care.

In the wonderful bliss of inebriation, you noticed the brazen stare and silky mane of the man heading toward you.

Speak of the devil.

Today he’s in high-waisted jeans, a Gucci printed white shirt and an oversize pink coat, and it’s fucking unfair how good he looks. He finds you in the kitchen, hoarding a stash of alcohol on the tiled floor, and sits himself down next to you.

“Now, princess,” he drawls, stretching out his legs languidly, “what are you doing down here?”

You take a long pull of the tequila in front of you. “I want to see what the bottom of this bottle looks like,” you declare, a little louder than perhaps is needed.

“Is that so?” he muses. A sober you would have already told him to leave you alone and given him a kick up the ass for good measure, but the way he bit on his bottom lip and tipped his head back a little was incredibly distracting.

Drunk you always focused on one thing intensely and blocked everything out, and right now the only thing you could think to focus on was the golden Artemis in front of you. Whatever happened to pudgy TaeTae?

“An’I know for a fact,” you announce to him with a lazy slur to your words, “that you have not had enough to drink to be sitting here with me instead of sucking the braces off some freshman.”

He grimaces inwardly, but you pout at the sight. “I’m not drinking tonight,” he murmurs, “I’m taking care of somebody who desperately needs it.”

“Fuck, you’re doing a shitty job, then! They could be off somewhere, passed out in an alley, and you’re here talking to me. Some friend you are.”

He scoffs at your emphatic proclamation, but shuffles a little closer, pressing your shoulders together. “You’re going to feel like crap in the morning if you don’t swap that out for water.”

“Water tastes bad.”

“Water doesn’t taste like anything,” he counters.

“Exactly,” you enthuse, “it’s doing such an awful job that it can’t even taste like anything at all. I don’t need water, I need more of this good good boy.”

He sighs and unwraps your hands from the neck of the bottle, resting it on his other side, away from your grasp.

You frown at him angrily. “Why are you so mean to me, Taehyung? Why don’t you love me?”

He stares down at you so intensely that you forget to breathe. “If you would start drinking some water, maybe you can actually remember me when I say that I do love you.”

You wobble a little. “What.” The seriousness of the conversation is beginning to eat away at your sluggish drunkenness, and you begin to feel the coldness of the tile and the delicious heat where the side of his arm presses against yours.

He licks his lips again. “You were my first love, Y/n. I had the biggest crush on you in school, and I was going to tell you how I felt, but then my parents got a divorce, and I had to move away.”

Your cheeks feel like they’re about to burn off from the alcohol, but you are determined to stay at least a little alert. “I don’t believe you. Prove it.”

He leans in a little closer, head resting gently on the top of yours as he whispers. “My love is forever, it’s all for you.”

You freeze. “Is that…”

“I wrote the letter and mailed it to you. I felt so stupid that I had lost you without ever saying anything. But then I saw you a couple years ago at orientation. I wasn’t sure if it was you or not, but all of a sudden I was desperate to feel that again. I started getting involved with as many people as I could to try and find someone new, but I just can’t. I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

You could feel the thrum of blood rushing in your ears. You vowed to spend the rest of the night drinking water and eating food to soak up the alcohol in the hopes that you could remember this tomorrow. “But you had changed so much when I saw you again, I…”

“You never even bothered to check. You never gave me a chance, said hi, anything. I thought for a while it wasn’t actually you, but then Sunmi mentioned you, and I figured you probably just hated me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in shame, although the words seem awfully inadequate.

He lifts his head off yours, but only enough to turn and look down at you. Rather than responding verbally, he tilts up your chin and leans in, pressing his lips against yours softly.

There’s no aggressive passion, no tongue, the kiss is nothing like you’ve seen him give a million other people at these kinds of parties, but somehow it feels like fireworks all the same.

Alcohol always makes kisses even more electric, but there’s a steady warmth inside you you’ve never felt before, drunk or not. And it’s all because of him.

When he finally pulls away, planting one final, delicate kiss on your lips, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to open again and your mind to catch up.

He’s looking at you like you’re the sun, eyes dark with emotion, and his lips slightly parted in wonder. The noise of the party has fallen away long ago, your senses completely filled with Kim Taehyung and suddenly you can’t help but return the sentiment.

[y7u]

obligatory post of self reflection because I will soon start my final term of undergrad                           cw depression - suicide 

                also not edited what so ever I’m just talking out of my ass

words I used to describe myself my freshmen year of college fat ugly lazy bitch anxious  depressed  sad inadequate  terrible  stupid

some words I might use to describe myself now fat cute self aware adaptive sociable  sad personal inventive artistic In high school, I worked very hard to make myself unique in hopes of standing out but also as a way to challenge myself to be more comfortable in my skin. And, I mean, I was pretty individual in high school. I thought that I had found a sense of identity in my appearance (most namely clothing). I wanted to be quirky, intelligent and creative and I wanted everybody to know these things about me. My sense of individuality in high school wasn’t very solid, but there was something going there. Unfortunately, it was just based off my my appearance. 

When I came to college, everybody. looked. like. me. They all shopped at thrift stores and had a very distinct appearance that was different from those who were at my high school. Naturally, I flipped the fuck out. I became aware that I wasn’t the only different person out there and I was unable to use my appearance as a shield from delving into the actually person in the personality. 

I got sad. I was having panic attacks at least 3 times a week in the track field bleachers. I smoked a lot of weed and was drinking a lot (a lot as in a lot for an 18 year old). I never went out and stayed in my friends’ dorms. I was terrible in classes, so bad I had to make an appeal to not get kicked out of school because I was on academic probation for 4 terms. 

I went through some rough shit between freshmen year and now. My therapist diagnosed me with PTSD, I was in an intensive out patient program, I almost jumped off of a cliff, two best friends stopped being my friends, I withdrew from 3 different classes, was diagnosed with ADD, lived with some really shitty people, lost my virginity and then a year later he died, did some very intense art about it and then it got defaced exactly a year after his death, my professor called me lazy, gained almost 60 pounds, etc., etc. 

But I also have gone through some nice stuff.

I had some problems and got help and learned a lot, I’ve had friends that have taken care of me when I’m in really shitty places, I learned to be social and interactive through those things, someone made me feel comfortable enough to the point where I took off all of my clothes in the library with him, I made the decision to do what I want with my life, I understand what I need and what I’m not okay with, I fucking LOVE my friends, I found out there is art to be made in everything, I’ve gotten off campus and enjoyed interacting with people who aren’t college students, etc., etc.

I have changed from this girl who wanted to please everyone and wanted to make a good impression for her family to someone who needs to live for themself. 

This past weekend I went back home for spring break. I went to a bar with my really great from from high school and saw some people that we were in high school with and hadn’t seen for like 4 years. The way that I interacted with them was so different. I didn’t just stand behind austin and wait for him to finish talking to these people, I fucking started conversations and literally asked a very cute boy for a kiss. I would have never been able to do that. I felt so fucking comfortable and spontaneous and I felt how a 21 year old should feel. I think I’ve been feeling this comfortable for awhile now, but it really came into realization after Saturday night. I thought I lost this feeling a year ago but I think it’s back again.

Saturday night made me realize that if I want something, I’m going to fucking know. There’s no wishy washy bullshit that happens. Fuck uggggh I’ve progressed so much as a person holy fuck 

[booksbroadwaybbc]

I know I have the potential to be great, and I choose the path of the weak every time. via /r/selfimprovement

I know I have the potential to be great, and I choose the path of the weak every time.

Im so shitty. I dont even know why im writing this. Honestly I see other people post and I wonder if this actually helps. I'm at a point where If there's even a chance it could help, I should try it. Im 29, skinny black guy. I literally weigh about 130 lbs. Live with a roommate and brother. Other brother moving here in bout a week. Im older than all of them. Somehow I've got to this point in my life dropping out of every school endeavor i ever embarked on. Dropped out of High School, got my GED got into college then dropped out of that. Was too busy smoking weed, playing fighting games...just being a fool. Never been in a serious relationship at any point in my life. My love-life is non-existent. My only working background is in grocery stores and call center. I legitimately want to just stop everything. If I have to take calls for another few months that really might be it for me. I'm at the complete end of my lane. Im not here to discuss where my thoughts have gone, but I know for certain I cant keep doing this type of work for the rest of my life...I don't think I'll last to the middle of 2019 before I quit and look for another job. Speaking of that, my last 5 years of work history is just me bouncing between jobs. I got a job at software company doing customer support, but i threw that away too. They wanted to send me to Ireland, a real chance to start over and for some reason i threw it away. I just feel inadequate as hell in comparison to my brothers (one who has graduated college, the other who is going to Lincoln Tech now). I don't have problems talking to women casually, but I dont have it in me to discuss anything romantic with a woman. I wouldn't date me. If I was a woman I wouldn't even talk to me lol, let alone date me. I see my laziness, my apathy, my lack of empathy toward other people, and I know it's' shitty. I hate it, I hate myself and I absolutely must improve. I know that I can, when I actually put my mind to something I excel.

But you know what I hate more than anything? People who look for sympathy, people who want others to feel bad for them, and worst of all people who don't fucking work. So as I make this post, I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. If anything insult me, because well thats what I deserve and probably what I would do to someone else.

So since im literally at the end of my fucking rope, I've been trying to rewrite my life as hard as possible. Dedicating literally every minute of every day to improvement. Literally every --single---minute of every ---single--- day. As i write this now im at work, im doing quite a few things inbetween calls, and decided to visit this reddit because I made this account and subscribed to it a few weeks ago.

I probably sound like an idiot going into detail on this, but as embarrassing as it is I will. I made a plan for myself for the next 5 years. The plan includes my goals and ways to achieve them day by day. It also includes checkpoints every so often for me to check In and make sure im actually focusing on my goals. I need these checkpoints because in the past when I tried to do things like this I would lose focus eventually and fall into loads of weed use and alcohol abuse. My goals are listed below in no particular order:

Improve my overall Health - this multi-part goal. It includes both physical and mental health. I weigh 130 lbs pretty much on the dot. I'm not sure what my ideal weight would be (I don't know how I'd look at lets say 170 lbs for me to call that my ideal weight), but the first milestone is 150lbs. I want to hit this in 6 months, or atleast check in at that time. In terms of how I plan to do that, I've detailed a complete workout regime for me. Of course, I could go into detail on that, but the most important step, more important than working out is just eating more. The hardest part of course is always sticking to the regime, but atleast i've wrote down what I need to do. I don't know why but for some reason I just have trouble getting myself to eat. Even when i'm hungry, i'll smoke or go for a walk or go to sleep or just game - I'll do anything but eat. As of today, I'm changing that. For my mental health, I plan to read recreationally more especially when on public transit which Im on for about 2 hours a day. Why reading? I need to stay away from my phone. I spend so much time on discord, losing myself in non-stop content online through youtube or twitch or whatever. I need to get back in touch with me, and not be scared to be in my own thoughts. As a kid i use to read a lot, I was a creative kid. I think somewhere in the weed use I lost that, I want it back. After doing some research I've also started journalling. I Journal twice a day, once in the morning once at night. I try to spend 30 minutes a day total (15 minutes per night/day) writing down my thoughts from the previous day and goals for that day in the morning, and what I actually accomplished and thoughts for the day that night. After reading what I've wrote for just a few days, turns out I'm actually a very bitter person. Maybe not bitter, but definitely angry and intense. I'm also trying to meditate, but Im not really good at this. What I do is just sit down in my room, light a candle, make some tea, close my eyes and think for 10 or so minutes. Any thought that comes in I try to analyze where it came from and if it's a negative thought or stemming from a negative. Im not good at this yet honestly. Its important to know these things aren't something I want to add in only for a limited time. I think I need to do this for the rest of my life, otherwise I spiral fast. My mom has suggested therapy but, I completely refuse. If I can't fix myself I won't get fixed. I'm not scared to ask for help, but therapy is out of the question until I've done absolutely everything I can to fix myself.

Develop a Skill. Particularly I want to program. I've taught myself abit of HTML, CSS, and Javascript. Honestly I'm a complete beginner, but I've dabbled abit. I've made steps to already begin teaching myself in my routine. I've been using codeacademy pro for about a month now and I'm working on deploying my own site (my first project will just be my resume on a responsive one page site, got the idea from a friend). This comes from, I have to develop some type of skill in order to move out of Customer Service. I don't know what else to even do, though IT support comes to mind but I don't want to support anymore I want to create and develop. I'm not trying to avoid work, I just want to avoid working with the general public, and I want to avoid my job being to educate others or fix mistakes they've made. Even though I think that still happens in development, I atleast want a career that pushes me mentally and forces me to improve my skillset in order to stay relevant. Most importantly, I want a job I can be proud of. A job that I myself can be proud of. Even though Customer Service/Call Centers are important for alot of companies, I cannot stand this line of work. It is so mind numbingly tedious and repetitive, and I feel like I am wasting my life and my potential handling these minor inquiries when I know I can use my mind to accomplish and work on something much greater. I don't care how arrogant or fucked up it sounds. It's not that I think i'm better than anyone, I just KNOW that i can achieve more than this. I know that im here because of how shitty of a human i've been. I'm tired of it, I have to change it.

Learn another language. The only other language I've had real interest in is Japanese. Honestly I've been at odds even with myself on this for a long time. Is it bad that I enjoy that type of culture? I'm not trying to be a "weeb" or just say it to sound cool. I've spent time learning to recognize some hiragana/katakana just on my own in the past. I don't think it's a perfect culture or anything, but its the only one that legitimate has always interested me for as long as I can remember. So i've decided to pursue it and fuck it, if I look stupid or like a weeb or whatever I guess I just have to accept that. Again I have my own routine I've detailed for myself for learning, and I have a few people I can actually practice with. I somehow got a friend of mine a job in Japan as a english teacher...but I havent done anything myself to move toward that and I know god damn well I could.

I want to become better at interacting with people. Last few months I've lost myself in just complete self indulgence. I won't go super into detail, but I think we all know what this means. Drug use, alcohol use, long nights on the internet avoiding sleep exploring the most degenerate shit man. The worst is after nights like that you can't look people in the eye, or have normal conversations. It just eats at you knowing youre not only wasting time but spending it on something so shitty and useless. Putting time off with family/friends to stay at home and waste time, I won't do shit like this anymore. When you fall into a rut like this, or whatever it is, all your relationships around you start to crumble. Then I wonder why I havent been in a relationship, lol. Well im done and hopefully by writing this It gives me strength to not fall back into that dark place and keep me on the right path. I will show I can support my family and I can receive their support as well. It will take time to repair these relationships, but If i dont start now I feel like they really will crumble forever.

This is basically my current mental state. I don't know if this even fits this subreddit but I hope it does and if not feel free to inform me. The purpose of this is to show that, I am on the path to self improvement, its all I care about right now. Being better than I've been in the past month. Better than I was yesterday, because if I dont change my life now I'm legitimately scared what I will do or where I will be 5 years from now. If you actually read all this, thanks. If you have any thoughts, please let me know. If I sound stupid, let me know. If I sound like all im doing is crying and complaining, please inform me. You have any videos I can watch on improvement, including mentalities/mindsets/meditation please let me know. Im open to anything. It took me about 2 hours to write this in between calls. As I hit post I'm going back to coding and planning on working on my first project immediately tonight. Guess i'm saying this more for myself than anyone.

Thanks for reading.

-Just

Submitted November 10, 2018 at 11:22PM by StoicJust via reddit https://ift.tt/2z213YJ

[spiritualgravity]

The day I left.

A few months back, I shared a story with my husband that fascinated me. A friend from high school, who I reconnected with over Facebook, told me that once a month, she leaves her home and checks into a hotel. It’s usually out of town, too. She’ll get in the car, and drive a few hours to a city she’s never visited before. The twist? She’s a Mother of two girls and is married. 

She literally leaves, escapes, for mental health. Once a month. By herself. To sleep. And to do whatever a Wife and Mother of two girls does by herself for an evening in a hotel room.

I thought that was the most brilliant idea, EVER. And when she told me this admirable life-saving monthly decision, I was pregnant and had absolutely, unequivically no clue how monumental this idea actually is for a stay-at-home parent, much less any parent at all.

Fast forward to 2018, Mother’s Day arrived. One would think I gloated from all of the “First” Mother’s Day attention messages, cards and texts. Soaking up the well wishes and getting to wear an invisible crown for the day. My sweet husband spoiled me with two dozen roses and special jewelry from our favorite shop. Instead though, I was a hot, hot mess. I cried countless times. And I didn’t really know why in the moment. I think in retrospect it’s because deep down at a subconscious level, all I truly wanted in the depths of my core was some time to myself. To sleep, uninterrupted. To not only take a shower, but a long shower. To pamper myself at the salon. I realize that time is now priceless and always will be from this point forward.

I guess when you’re going through the thick of being a new parent, particularly to an award-winning challenging baby, you’re sorta just, numb. You go through the motions, trying your best, trying to forgive yourself for all of your mistakes. For saying things at 3 o’clock in the morning that absolutely mortify you. Your marriage suffers. Your undereye bags suffer. You just...get by and push through the suffering. That’s what I have been doing. 

Surviving the suffering. And Mother’s Day inadvertently caused me to look in the rear view mirror and face all of it.

My daughter turns 8 months old tomorrow. Day one through month 5 were...

I can’t even type the words because I don’t want to appear ungrateful for the gift of being a Mother. But I’ll just say it, they were awful. She wouldn’t sleep, she wouldn’t be placed down in any contraption, she was up every 2 hours breastfeeding throughout the night vs. stretching out longer feeding periods like “normal” babies do {and the word “normal” is a joke, I realize}, she was fussy, colicky, and generally unhappy. She hated car rides, and took 30 minute naps. She had countless allergies that forced me to cut out countless foods as her sole source of nutrition. 

It was awful, yes — pretty much all of it. My clinical postpartum depression sucked me dry from the inside-out. I generally consider myself a warrior. I am competitive, I like to do good at whatever I put my heart into, I am disciplined, and try to make myself proud. But the depression was a dark cloud. The depression was just a disguise for sleep deprivation. By the grace of God, a sleep coach entered our lives and she saved us. Our daughter learned how to sleep {literally}, and she’s been relatively happy for the past three months.

I generally stick to reading non-fiction books, and have fantasized about being a published non-fiction book author for several decades. The one and only fiction author I have followed is Emily Giffin. She wrote a book that was made into a movie, “Something Borrowed.” I registered for a women’s blogging conference years ago in Atlanta just to meet her {and I did, and it was awesome}. I learned that she checks herself into a hotel when she’s on deadline to finish her books. Ever since I learned this insight about her, I fantasized about writing a book in a hotel room. Locking the door for 48-72 hours, drinking delicious red wine, and ordering room service.

My original excuse was that I didn’t have time to write, I was too busy. Then I quit my full-time job and became an entrepreneur — my new excuse was that my original book topic was outdated and I needed a new one. Now I have a baby and she’s my new excuse. 

And I suppose I shouldn’t be so hard on myself this time around because now I literally don’t have time. To take a shower. To go to the gym. To eat a meal sitting down. To go to sleep, and wake up, whenever I want. To pretty much do anything that I used to do daily and took it for granted. 

There is no more free time, ever. Breastfeeding has been all-encompassing. It is something I have been incredibly passionate about since staying up reading literature on my phone for hours on end {while breastfeeding} about the mindblowing benefits to babies. But it came with challenges from the start. Inverted nipples that required a miniature plunger to perk them up for her first week of life in order to eat? I didn’t see that one coming. A baby who is lazy and doesn’t eat much unless it’s in a bottle? Drops in milk production whenever I was acutely stressed? 

At her 4-month Pediatrician’s vist, we were advised to feed her an ADDITIONAL 1-3 ounces in a bottle to “top her off” as she was underweight {per the pressure cooker 1 in 100 average baby weight guidelines that can make a breastfeeding Mother feel inadequate and like a shitty failure}. This meant that after every single solitary breastfeeding session, I had to then immediately pump for 20-30 minutes. I couldn’t store or freeze the pumped milk, I had to turn around and put it right back in her belly through a bottle. I would have been happy to use formula at this point to nourish my child, and save my sanity, but her soy, egg and dairy allergies made that nearly impossible. I was trapped. I already felt like a prisoner in my own home with a colicky baby who screamed bloody murder in a motor vehicle, but now I was strapped up to the damn breastpump around the clock.

In some of my lowest moments, half asleep and delusional, I had visions of leaving. Laying down in the back seat of my car and sleeping. Not actually leaving the driveway, but just temporarily escaping to pretend I didn’t have to personally be responsible for keeping her alive for more than three-to-four hours at a time. On three occassions, I’ve had 24-48 hour out of town excursions in eight months, and everytime leading up to the trip, it was like I was training for a milk marathon, trying to pump extra-extra above and beyond what I already was just to keep her alive while I was gone. I understood why the average woman I’ve chatted with stopped breastfeeding after six weeks.

All I know is, this baby hasn’t been sick one time since her birth day. Sure she’s been a prison cellmate with me in our home together, but I’d like to think that my magical milk has been a contributing factor {at least I tell myself that to ease the pain}.

Today was a pivotal day. I checked myself into a hotel.

My daughter is evidently going through some kind of 8-month sleep regression because her baby brain is growing at warp speed and teeth are piercing through her top gums with vengence. She still feeds once a night, anywhere between 2 a.m.-4 a.m., which I was hoping to phase out soon — since according to a professional sleep coach — baby girl is 100% ready to do so. However, instead, she’s done a 180 degree tap dance in the opposite direction. Last night she woke up at least 6 times — twice to eat and the others were simply random, unexplainable cry fests. 

Meanwhile, my adult brain has felt hungover all day today, but I haven’t had a drop of alcohol to drink. I am so exhausted, it physically hurts. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since my second trimester pregnant. My husband overheard me crying to a friend on the phone. A bit later while he was gone out of the house, he texted, “Would you like to get a hotel room tonight and I’ll take care of the baby? I can’t stand seeing you so upset. I haven’t seen you genuinely happy and smiling in too long.”

My heart simultaneously sank, and soared. The text was both disturbing and comforting. That my husband believes I’m unhappy; that breaks my heart. And it’s incredible that he remembered the hotel story; that makes my heart swell.

I drove 4.8 miles away from our home after we put the baby to bed, and will be sleeping solo in a King size bed, on the executive floor, and so far have been treated pretty damn good thanks to my husband’s Hilton Gold Status, thank you very much. 

Forget showering. Have I envisioned myself covered in a bubble bath many-a-times? Yes. For tonight’s escapade, did I strategically pack Epsom salt and bath oils in Ziploc bags? Yes. Did my hotel room only have a stand-up shower? Yes. Did I laugh out loud? Yes. Have I been pumping while typing this blog post with my elbows at a 45-degree angle? Duh.

Serendipity is something I whole-heartedly believe in. Earlier today I received an email from my girl Emily {Giffin}. Are you ready for this? She’s releasing another book, ha! I wonder how many Hilton rewards points she has by now.

Also, today, the fancy-schmancy, lactose & chemical-free, stupid-expensive formula made in Germany arrived on our doorstep for the first time. My breasts took a collective sigh of relief to have some tag-team partners on deck.

I think it’s safe to say that today, the Universe conspired to give me a get out of jail free card. And for that, I am grateful. 

[broketheyolk]

Inadequate

Wow, it’s been over a year since I’ve written in here. Well, some things have changed and a lot hasn’t. I just read my last post and it was pretty humorous for the state of mind I was in (which was pretty fucking depressed). Update: I was good for a while but now I’m back feeling depressed as fuck. I’ve gotten a new keyboard at least so now I can type a bit better than how I was with the last post from over a year ago. Since I just read my last entry I’ll try to keep the format the same so I can remember what I was doing or at least paint a picture if you’re a random person just reading this. It’s 3:07am on a Saturday night (technically Sunday morning). I was just kind of pissed off because I couldn’t figure out how to log into this blog since I thought it was tied in with my “regular” tumblr but after getting mad and getting kind of hot (literally, I was sweating) I figured out that this tumblr was under a different email. God, I’m such a genius. It’s July and it’s still warm at night so I have my fan in my window blowing cold air in so I won’t be all sweaty and gross while I’m trying to sleep. Ghost in the Shell is playing in the background on the tv. I’m listening to Spotify to Hello by Engelwood Radio but the station was kind of sucking so I had to just switch it to the song on repeat. I have a ton of thoughts going through my head and it’s hard to figure out what to write first.

I feel like shit. I’ve been depressed for the last two weeks. It isn’t as bad as when I had it last year, which was really the first time I’ve ever really been depressed and felt that way. I feel like I just have anxiety all the time. My sister, her kids and her stupid ass husband are moving back in which is going to be a shitty situation. They say they’re only going to be here for 6 or 7 months but god knows how long it will really take them to leave. That prompted one of the reasons for my anxiety/depression. I was looking to finally move out but with the stupid bills I have I can’t afford to get an apartment and they don’t even really have studios in  the area which I would be fine with. Not being able to afford to move out really fucked with my head. I’m 30 going on 31 now and I feel so fucking inadequate. I’m working at a job where my coworkers are in their early twenties and here I am 30 years old and I just feel like a piece of shit loser. I feel like I should have more to show for my age but then again I can’t really complain because I haven’t put in the work to earn a better living. Then there’s my job. I feel really complacent. I make an ok amount of money but at this point I need to make more so I can finally fully support myself. The thing is that if I don’t think about it I’m fine where I’m at grinding away. Unless, I think about it then I won’t want to do any better. Also, I’m still fat. I’ve made minimal effort in trying to lose weight and it just comes down to me being a lazy piece of shit.                                                    

Here’s the cherry on the top though, I met a girl. She came in while I was working and made a funny comment asking if I was the only person there, which caught me off guard but was a great ice breaker. We talked a lot and it was nice that we were the only ones in the store so I could really talk and listen to her. She told me about her family and I was enamored immediately with her. She is definitely my type. She’s just a cute white girl that’s pretty nerdy. We joked around a bit and I told her I would text her and we were going to be best friends. Braden saw some of it go down and he was like “wow, good job.” Like I’ve flirted with girls that have come in before but this was the first time I really trying to get at her. That was on a Saturday and I emailed her my usual conformation email but with added personal things. She replied back and it gave me butterflies. Actually, just thinking about the first time we met gives me butterflies. I text her on Monday telling her about getting her service turned on and she replied back with a “Finally!” and oh man my heart fluttered. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this with a girl .The real last time was with her but I guess everyone except for me knew she just wanted attention so I finally had to fall back because I was just putting in all that time on something that wasn’t going to happen. Anyways, so we text back and forth and it’s kind of dry. Like I don’t know if she isn’t into texting but she usually takes forever to reply and it’s hard to keep the conversation going. I figure out she’s into anime and stuff so we find common ground in that. I threw out senpai forgive me and she liked that and probably got the first “lol” out of her. I remember we were texting pretty much throughout the whole 4th of July. I really wanted to see her but I was being a bitch and should have just went to the fort with her but I was hanging out with my family that didn’t care if I was there or not and with Steve and Kai since he was back from Arizona for like a day. So we keep texting and she tells me about a spot she likes going to called Quarterworld. It’s like Ground Kontrol/Wunderland. She said she likes to go alone and drink while she’s there. I poke and prod saying we should go but she says it’s her tradition to go alone and I don’t know if she’s being serious or not but for some reason I keep bringing it up and I don’t know if she wants me to leave it alone. Anyways we finally end up hanging out. We drive to Uwajimaya and just browse all the aisles and small talk about everything. I geek out a little on the gundams they have there but don’t buy any because I don’t want her to think I’m a super nerd and I don’t have the room on my shelf. We end up eating at that Korean spot Tony likes and the whole time from me picking her up and to the restaurant, she’s doing all of the talking. I saw some stuff here and there but I was just over thinking everything and was too nervous to talk. Thankfully, she was ok with talking and I honestly could just listen to her talk about anything. She told me stories of her old roommates and her old job and how crazy it made her. How she was drinking herself to sleep to cope with the stress from work. She told me about how she has a wedding she wants to go to in November but her significant ex’s will be there and it would be kind of weird because she told them to leave her and get with a different girl that was better and they ended up breaking up with her and doing so. That made me feel kind of weird. Also, how her old roommate that was schizophrenic called her the time lord because all the guys in the place had a crush on her and how she was controlling all of them because she knew that. That made me feel pretty weird too. Like is she the type of person to do that kind of thing? So we end dinner and I take her home. I couldn’t figure out if we were on a date or just hanging out but it was the ladder. On the way back she notices that I haven’t talked as much and tries making an effort to engage me in conversation but I’m still fucking nervous and I talk about my family and visiting Papa but it all comes in blurts. I drop her off and the whole time she was talking during dinner I was looking at her face and realizing how fucking attractive and pretty she really is. I pull up to her spot and she was like no one’s ever paid for me before and I was taken back like really? And she hops out to get her stuff out of the back seat and I was just looking back at her like well I guess no good night kiss so this definitely wasn’t a date.

Since then we’ve just been texting and I’ve been the one texting her first every day. I seriously cannot tell if she just wants to be friends or wants to see where this is going. Like I’m trying to hang out with her but she’s told me twice she’s blown her entertainment funds for the week which I don’t know is an excuse or she is really budgeting to the penny. Either way it’s been fucking with my head. All this anxiety and depression I feel is stemming from me being attracted and into her but not really receiving the same feelings back. Like with her even though it wasn’t going anywhere. She responded back with engaging conversations and told me good night, tagged me in memes, snapped each other and told me good night. With this new girl I don’t get any of that so I don’t know if I’m doing something wrong or she doesn’t care. It’s seriously fucking with my emotions. Like I am really into her and I don’t know what to do. There’s so much uncertainty around her and it just makes me internalize everything. Like would she show more interest if I was better looking? If was taller? If I weren’t fat? Am I boring? I’m over thinking it but I am having a lot of inadequacy issues. Like I’ll text her and sometimes she’ll reply right away and other times like hours later. I’m finding myself over thinking it a lot and getting all in my feelings. Like I just want to be loved and I feel like a deserve it. Her coupled with all the other shit going on has been giving me such bad anxiety and stress and everyone has noticed it. Everyone at work and even mama could tell I was stressed out. I’ll catch myself just feeling super anxious and being caught between what can I do to fix this or lie in fetal position. I haven’t had an appetite for a while because I’ve been stressed and when I think about it I don’t want to get fat because maybe she’ll like me more. These last couple days where I try to hit her up to no response I’ll find myself just thinking so much and getting depressed. The other night I needed to do something to get my mind off of it so I went to Quarterworld by myself and felt pretty good. I played a shit ton of marvel vs capcom and ate at the baowser next door after. It’s funny cause I texted her earlier that day with no response until hours later when I was Quarterworld by myself. Then I did the same shit the other day where I ended up by OHSU by a park and ended up walking Tilikum crossing and guess what? She finally replied to a text hours later. Like I texted her at noon then around 8 saying I wanted to hang out again and she said oops I fell asleep and I wanted to get ramen or do something cool and I took an hour to reply just cause I was walking around on the bridge and couldn’t think of anything to say. I respond like 40 min later and no response. I text her today 3 times and different times and no response until hours later saying she couldn’t because she blew her entertainment funds like night. So I asked her what she ended up doing and she was like refilling contact lenses. Like cool, you spend your entertainment money on contacts. I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know if my persistence is going against me or if she is just actually a bad texter. I seriously don’t know what to do. Should I keep trying to pursue her or is it a lost cause. I really want to get to know her and see where we can take things but I can’t force her to like me. This uncertainty just sucks and the feeling of being inadequate and unwanted is floating over me like a dark cloud. I wish the communication was better so I could figure out if this is a lost cause. I don’t care if she doesn’t have an entertainment budget I can pay for her. It’s not like I can be a sugar daddy but I feel like I could treat her well. Also, being my age and still feeling all these things fucking suck too, I don’t want to be old and alone.  

Well hopefully I’ll write more in here. I’ve had a lot of thoughts and feelings I’ve had to get off my chest. But if I don’t things will have worked out and I’ll be dating and if I do things won’t have worked out and I’ll be venting more. Peace out girl scout.