I'm stuck at a crossroad, and I'm not sure which way I'm going. Each path has almost equal pros and cons.
I need a psychic.
Or a margarita night.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
And Also-
Chels- I miss your freaking face.
Starbucks soon?
Can you have starbucks while pregnant?
...fuck it. Starbucks soon. We'll leave out the cocaine. :)
Starbucks soon?
Can you have starbucks while pregnant?
...fuck it. Starbucks soon. We'll leave out the cocaine. :)
2am
I typed this on my phone, which pissed me off royally, and that's why it's all broken up weird. I guess I could fix it, but goddamn I'm lazy.
Okay, so. It's 2am here
In the beautiful state of Georgia and I'm sitting on my bathroom floor in my underwear grasping a notebook and gold pen like my life depended on it and tear stains on my cheeks.
Background: When I was 15, I was friends with a guy named David. He was annoying, a redneck with the southernest twang I'd ever heard, and the reddest hair I'd ever seen. He smiled too much. He referred to me as "Mclafflin". He called me too many times everyday. He could piss me off faster than anyone I'd ever met. I was sure he was the man I was going to marry. As sure as a 15 year old girl in a sadistically abusive relationship could be, anyway. He called me too many times in case I'd decided to leave Corey, or I needed help in any way. He pissed me off to give me something to be mad at besides myself. David was my rock, and then he was gone. His funeral was the hardest thing I've ever sat through and the whole ceremony I was screaming inside at the stupid idea of some "god" who could take this amazing person who helped me survive my day to day life away from me. How dare someone take him? This heart of gold, this selfless, wonderful person who had so much to offer at only 18 years old. Why did I lose him instead of the junkie, sadistic, horrible, horrible "man" I was tethered to by fear? Why did evil live, while good didn't?
Now, I've never been a huge fan of religion but that just crushed it for me. I can't believe in something with those kind of backward, stupid rules about death.
But, sitting here tonight. Unable to sleep and sobbing over the idea how how much of a mess I am at 23, I found myself talking to him like usual. Usually I'm complaining about stuff that I know he'd not give three shits about, but tonight I was asking him for help. Really? The boy's been dead 8 years and I still can't function in my own life without him? What is he going to do? Talk to "god" and get me some kind of break? Really? Buuuuuut I did it anyway, for hours. I cried, and I talked to him, and I asked him to pull some kinda afterlife strings and freaking throw something good my way. In my mess on the floor, I scribbled down some.... plans.. I guess you could call them... about DOING something.
I need to kick my own ass out of my comfort zone. Therefore: I've decided to pull my measly $220 a month child support out of the bank every month and hide it somewhere where I won't spend it, and save it. If Michael and I get married- great, I'll spend it on that. ... If we're STILL not married by January, I'm uprooting myself and my 3 year old to a new state. I'm literally going to close my eyes, swirl a map of the US around, and pick something. I'm so STUCK here. I'm comfortable. I think I've worn out my own welcome. I should finish school next month, and fingers crossed I can land a better job than the 7th circle of hell I'm at now.
Speaking of that- I've also decided to start applying for second jobs. I need to call work today and see what my hours are going to be when I come back, since I'm not going to be doing Pre K anymore. I need early hours so I can get a 5-11 job doing effing telemarketing or something. Somehow, I'm going to have to balance 2 jobs, a 3 year old, school, an internship, and daily life (meals, laundry, gym etc) without ripping my hair out of my head.
Can I really do this?
Okay, so. It's 2am here
In the beautiful state of Georgia and I'm sitting on my bathroom floor in my underwear grasping a notebook and gold pen like my life depended on it and tear stains on my cheeks.
Background: When I was 15, I was friends with a guy named David. He was annoying, a redneck with the southernest twang I'd ever heard, and the reddest hair I'd ever seen. He smiled too much. He referred to me as "Mclafflin". He called me too many times everyday. He could piss me off faster than anyone I'd ever met. I was sure he was the man I was going to marry. As sure as a 15 year old girl in a sadistically abusive relationship could be, anyway. He called me too many times in case I'd decided to leave Corey, or I needed help in any way. He pissed me off to give me something to be mad at besides myself. David was my rock, and then he was gone. His funeral was the hardest thing I've ever sat through and the whole ceremony I was screaming inside at the stupid idea of some "god" who could take this amazing person who helped me survive my day to day life away from me. How dare someone take him? This heart of gold, this selfless, wonderful person who had so much to offer at only 18 years old. Why did I lose him instead of the junkie, sadistic, horrible, horrible "man" I was tethered to by fear? Why did evil live, while good didn't?
Now, I've never been a huge fan of religion but that just crushed it for me. I can't believe in something with those kind of backward, stupid rules about death.
But, sitting here tonight. Unable to sleep and sobbing over the idea how how much of a mess I am at 23, I found myself talking to him like usual. Usually I'm complaining about stuff that I know he'd not give three shits about, but tonight I was asking him for help. Really? The boy's been dead 8 years and I still can't function in my own life without him? What is he going to do? Talk to "god" and get me some kind of break? Really? Buuuuuut I did it anyway, for hours. I cried, and I talked to him, and I asked him to pull some kinda afterlife strings and freaking throw something good my way. In my mess on the floor, I scribbled down some.... plans.. I guess you could call them... about DOING something.
I need to kick my own ass out of my comfort zone. Therefore: I've decided to pull my measly $220 a month child support out of the bank every month and hide it somewhere where I won't spend it, and save it. If Michael and I get married- great, I'll spend it on that. ... If we're STILL not married by January, I'm uprooting myself and my 3 year old to a new state. I'm literally going to close my eyes, swirl a map of the US around, and pick something. I'm so STUCK here. I'm comfortable. I think I've worn out my own welcome. I should finish school next month, and fingers crossed I can land a better job than the 7th circle of hell I'm at now.
Speaking of that- I've also decided to start applying for second jobs. I need to call work today and see what my hours are going to be when I come back, since I'm not going to be doing Pre K anymore. I need early hours so I can get a 5-11 job doing effing telemarketing or something. Somehow, I'm going to have to balance 2 jobs, a 3 year old, school, an internship, and daily life (meals, laundry, gym etc) without ripping my hair out of my head.
Can I really do this?
Monday, April 18, 2011
Alllllllllllllright
So, I hope you enjoyed a glimpse into hormonal hell that IS my PMDD, plus the addition of a broken heart, which I am NOT used to having. Even though I was the one that instigated the break up in the first place, it shattered me to think of my life without him and Ben in it. Now, I know what you're thinking:
Holy FUCK this is one crazy bitch!
And yes, you're probably right, but whatever. Not the point.
Michael and I are............. not quite okay... but at the same time, we're not exactly NOT okay either... does that make any sense? No? Didn't think so. Hard to explain. He came over last night because he needed a place to stay, and quite frankly- because I'm so loney without him. We kinda flip-flopped between fighting and making up all night... but the vocal diarrhea of hatred has seemed to stop, so THAT'S a good sign. I also think the fact that my whole world seeming unbalanced without Him and Ben-jammin is probably a good sign too. I need my 3 boys, as much as the one can piss me off and make me want to come after him with a red-hot iron sword. (to the genitals)
To be absolutely honest here with you, I didn't even remember what I wrote last night until I read it today. THAT is how far into my hormonal downward spiral of bitch I was. Yes, it was true what I wrote, mostly. Some parts were greatly exaggerated, some were absolutely true. But- on the flip side- he could turn around and write one about me calling him an alcoholic, a liar, a dick, a prick, (pretty much any synonym for penis) a douche, worthless... all sorts of things. All I know, is when I'm mad I want whoever I'm mad at to feel just as bad as I do. I'm a low blow fighter, I'll admit it.
But I digress- got off on a tangent.
Point of this- is I love him, he loves me, and hopefully we can stop ripping at each other long enough to remember what's pulled us through the past 2 years, years that have been a constant uphill battle for the two of us, years that have probably just made us tired. Where the hell is the plateau, for christ's sake?
Today, I got a voice mail from my OBGYN. I called back to speak to my nurse practioner, didn't get her, but I got a very cheerful nurse:
Nurse: "Well, we got the results from your pap back and you do have a bacterial infection. Pretty good one too, you should really pee more!"
Me: "Okay."
Nurse: "Gonna call you in a prescription"
Me: "Alrighty"
Nurse: "Oh, and there was one more thing...."
Me: ".... and what might that be?"
Nurse: "Well, we found some low-grade cells"
Me: "What the hell are those?"
Nurse: "Just some slightly abnormal cells. You can come in next friday for a biopsy?" (With huge, cartoon smile in voice)
Me: "Uh, sure. What the hell do those do?"
Nurse: "Well it could be anything!! Infections like the one you have is probably the reason, so that would be nothing, but it could be HPV, which is normally harmless, and it could be cancer!!"
Me: "...."
Nurse: "Buuuuuuuuuuut that's what we're gonna find out! See you Friday!! :D :D :D"
So. There I stand. Could be nothing, could be a (from google research) totally unnoticeable, almost unpreventable (damn you, abstinence), totally asymptomatic STI, could be CANCER? That is what she leaves me with? Really?
Another fun fact: Cervical cancer runs in our family. Oh.. the joys.
But, I'm not much of a dweller, so I'm gonna push it to the back of my mind and ignore all the (imagined?) pains in my cervix until the 29th. I'm not going to let what-ifs holyshitwhatifIhavecancer? HolyshitwhatifIcan'thaveanotherbaby? WhatthehellamIgoingtodoifthisisserious? wrack my brain.
And on another tangent- this kind of sobering reality check really puts the whole relationship thing on another level. Who do I want next to me if it IS serious? Michael. Who do I need to lean on? Michael.
Just saying.
Holy FUCK this is one crazy bitch!
And yes, you're probably right, but whatever. Not the point.
Michael and I are............. not quite okay... but at the same time, we're not exactly NOT okay either... does that make any sense? No? Didn't think so. Hard to explain. He came over last night because he needed a place to stay, and quite frankly- because I'm so loney without him. We kinda flip-flopped between fighting and making up all night... but the vocal diarrhea of hatred has seemed to stop, so THAT'S a good sign. I also think the fact that my whole world seeming unbalanced without Him and Ben-jammin is probably a good sign too. I need my 3 boys, as much as the one can piss me off and make me want to come after him with a red-hot iron sword. (to the genitals)
To be absolutely honest here with you, I didn't even remember what I wrote last night until I read it today. THAT is how far into my hormonal downward spiral of bitch I was. Yes, it was true what I wrote, mostly. Some parts were greatly exaggerated, some were absolutely true. But- on the flip side- he could turn around and write one about me calling him an alcoholic, a liar, a dick, a prick, (pretty much any synonym for penis) a douche, worthless... all sorts of things. All I know, is when I'm mad I want whoever I'm mad at to feel just as bad as I do. I'm a low blow fighter, I'll admit it.
But I digress- got off on a tangent.
Point of this- is I love him, he loves me, and hopefully we can stop ripping at each other long enough to remember what's pulled us through the past 2 years, years that have been a constant uphill battle for the two of us, years that have probably just made us tired. Where the hell is the plateau, for christ's sake?
Today, I got a voice mail from my OBGYN. I called back to speak to my nurse practioner, didn't get her, but I got a very cheerful nurse:
Nurse: "Well, we got the results from your pap back and you do have a bacterial infection. Pretty good one too, you should really pee more!"
Me: "Okay."
Nurse: "Gonna call you in a prescription"
Me: "Alrighty"
Nurse: "Oh, and there was one more thing...."
Me: ".... and what might that be?"
Nurse: "Well, we found some low-grade cells"
Me: "What the hell are those?"
Nurse: "Just some slightly abnormal cells. You can come in next friday for a biopsy?" (With huge, cartoon smile in voice)
Me: "Uh, sure. What the hell do those do?"
Nurse: "Well it could be anything!! Infections like the one you have is probably the reason, so that would be nothing, but it could be HPV, which is normally harmless, and it could be cancer!!"
Me: "...."
Nurse: "Buuuuuuuuuuut that's what we're gonna find out! See you Friday!! :D :D :D"
So. There I stand. Could be nothing, could be a (from google research) totally unnoticeable, almost unpreventable (damn you, abstinence), totally asymptomatic STI, could be CANCER? That is what she leaves me with? Really?
Another fun fact: Cervical cancer runs in our family. Oh.. the joys.
But, I'm not much of a dweller, so I'm gonna push it to the back of my mind and ignore all the (imagined?) pains in my cervix until the 29th. I'm not going to let what-ifs holyshitwhatifIhavecancer? HolyshitwhatifIcan'thaveanotherbaby? WhatthehellamIgoingtodoifthisisserious? wrack my brain.
And on another tangent- this kind of sobering reality check really puts the whole relationship thing on another level. Who do I want next to me if it IS serious? Michael. Who do I need to lean on? Michael.
Just saying.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Stupid girls...
like... the dumbest girl ever.
EVER.
Hi. That is me, my name is Kelli.
"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results" - Einstein.
So, that must mean that I'm insane. I think I've been stuck in this goddamn revolving door for so long that my feet are just blindly stepping without my brain really being able to control it.
Goddammit I'm tired of circles. I love him, fuck I love him. But I can't keep this horrible cycle of tearing each other down to the point of leaving, just to make up, just to start tearing again. My poor heart has been broken more in the past 2 years than I think it has in my horrible, horrible track record of guys. I've NEVER let anyone get as close to me as he has, and apparently it was only so he could hurt me in ways I've NEVER been hurt. I knew I was emotionally distant for a reason. He says the meanest shit to me all the time.
Things I've heard RECENTLY:
1. Rum is more important than me
2. If he's not getting sex from me, he'll get it from somewhere else.
3. I'm a super bitch (which I am, but only from evolution in this toxic relationship)
4. I'm immature
5. I'm trashy
6. Fuck me
7. Get over myself
8. Call him or find another man.
9.
LIES I've heard recently:
1. He loves me.
2. He wants to work things out.
3. He wants to come over to talk
4. He wants me
5. He wants to come over and talk (after lying about it the first time, mere hours before)
6. That I am his world. (God that's cliche, who the fuck falls for that?)
7. HE doesn't want to be single.
I've officially crossed over into crazy broken heart mode. I just literally ripped up EVERY item of clothing he had over at my house, and realistically it's gonna end up in his parent's driveway tomorrow.
Fuck HIM, fuck everything. Fuck waiting FAITHFULLY for 8 months just to get treated like shit when he gets home. Things weren't perfect when he left, but goddamn at least he was nice to me.
I am officially the stupidest girl ever, and I'd like to curl up and die now.
EVER.
Hi. That is me, my name is Kelli.
"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results" - Einstein.
So, that must mean that I'm insane. I think I've been stuck in this goddamn revolving door for so long that my feet are just blindly stepping without my brain really being able to control it.
Goddammit I'm tired of circles. I love him, fuck I love him. But I can't keep this horrible cycle of tearing each other down to the point of leaving, just to make up, just to start tearing again. My poor heart has been broken more in the past 2 years than I think it has in my horrible, horrible track record of guys. I've NEVER let anyone get as close to me as he has, and apparently it was only so he could hurt me in ways I've NEVER been hurt. I knew I was emotionally distant for a reason. He says the meanest shit to me all the time.
Things I've heard RECENTLY:
1. Rum is more important than me
2. If he's not getting sex from me, he'll get it from somewhere else.
3. I'm a super bitch (which I am, but only from evolution in this toxic relationship)
4. I'm immature
5. I'm trashy
6. Fuck me
7. Get over myself
8. Call him or find another man.
9.
LIES I've heard recently:
1. He loves me.
2. He wants to work things out.
3. He wants to come over to talk
4. He wants me
5. He wants to come over and talk (after lying about it the first time, mere hours before)
6. That I am his world. (God that's cliche, who the fuck falls for that?)
7. HE doesn't want to be single.
I've officially crossed over into crazy broken heart mode. I just literally ripped up EVERY item of clothing he had over at my house, and realistically it's gonna end up in his parent's driveway tomorrow.
Fuck HIM, fuck everything. Fuck waiting FAITHFULLY for 8 months just to get treated like shit when he gets home. Things weren't perfect when he left, but goddamn at least he was nice to me.
I am officially the stupidest girl ever, and I'd like to curl up and die now.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Why does my life suck so very, very much?
Seems to be the question revolving in my head today. I hate today. Like, officially done with breathing the air that the fucking universe has to offer me today kind of hatred. I need a brick wall with poison tipped spikes to beat my face against to forget that the past 24 hours ever happened. Fuck fuck fuck.
"Why? What happened that's so bad?" I know that's what you're asking. Well shut your goddamn face. Nothing extremely "bad" happened, per-say. Just an all around smattering of fucking shit all deciding to come hang out in my brain today. Can I just start off with the fact that
I
hate
my
job
? Can I start there? Because I do. I hate my job almost as much as I hate my ex. I hate getting up at five in the morning while my unemployed ass of a fiancée (maybe...we'll get there later) continues his slumbering, complete with snores and whines about the goddamn light being on. I hate putting on the fucking blue polo shirt and those goddamn khakis that are wayyyyyyyyyy too big, and wayyyyyy too short. I hate dragging my ass to the kitchen to scramble and throw mine and little man's lunches and breakfasts together, all the while cussing myself for not doing it last night. I hate pulling my sleepy, and now grumpy 2 year old out of bed at 6am. I hate the every morning all out fight that is getting him dressed. I hate the way I think horrible thoughts about how lovely it was to not have children. I HATE the goddamn drive to that fucking building in Gwinnett. I hate i85 with a fiery, burning passion that consumes my soul. I hate other people that drive. I hate other things too, but I'm not going to go there on the internet, you never know who's watching.
I love children, I really do. I love teaching, I love hearing their stories, but fuck. I'm burnt out. Like.... way burnt out. Like, considering going back to school for paralegal burnt out.
I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT PARALEGAL.... NESS. WHY WOULD I CHOOSE THAT?!?!?!
(Back to brick/poison wall... slam slam slam)
I also HATE the fact that I am 23 years old with a 2 year old, working full time, working my ASS off, and I still live at home with my mom. As in, I work full time for NOTHING. I can't afford to move, I can't afford to buy groceries, I can't afford light/water/cable/cell phone bills. Fuck my life. Am I gonna live here FOREVER because I'm NOT EVER going to be able to make more than $10000 a year? Fuck man.
"What about your fiancee (maybe) in the army? Why doesn't he help?" you may ask. Simple. He can't get a fucking job. Like, CAN'T. Like, has been putting in multiple applications everyday since he came home and nothing has worked out for him can't. So now he sits at home, drinking rum, filling out online applications, and waiting on me to get home. And I love coming home to him. I love him more than I thought it was possible for me to love someone given my past. But goddamn it, how long do I have to deal with this? He's unemployed, can't afford gas (so I put it in his car) can't afford food (so I cook for him) can't afford to rent movies (you're welcome) but somehow SOME-FUCKING-HOW he still manages to have a rum and coke in his had every time I look at him. Magic alcohol fairy? God I wish.
And this GODDAMN wedding that's coming up. I don't fucking want it, I don't want anything to do with it, and after the fight that we went through last night, I don't even think I want to marry him. How the fuck am I supposed to tell my mom that I'm in the middle of a big mistake and to get her goddamn deposit back on the fucking venue that I don't even like? I've literally cried all day long. Not because I'm sad about not having a wedding, but because I really don't want to let my family down after they've done all this fucking work on this fake ass wedding already. Goddammit.
I do want to marry him. I just don't want it to be this rushed, and fuck knows he doesn't give 3 shits about the whole fucking deal. Why should I care at all when he is not at ALL invested in it? Fuck this bullshit, I'm so goddamn mad right now. And my ONE friend that I can call and rant like this too and then meet at the bar for a little drink to chill out just moved to goddamn NC.
So here I sit, no ring on my hand, no money in the bank, crying in my mom's upstairs room on HER computer wishing my phone would ring and he would tell me that he loves me and that we might just be alright. But, because I'm a masochist, even if he did call and try to tell me that I would probably tell him to fuck himself and come get his goddamn shit out of my room.
I hate myself most of the time.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Life plans
Ughhhhh I hate the Army and it's never ending line of last minute changes.
So, Michael's at drill this weekend in Atlanta. He gets there, and the first thing he hears pretty much is "Oh, by the way... I know you just finished AIT, but we're going to send you BACK and reclass you to a combat photographer. Which is like.... a 9 month AIT. In Maryland. Have a great day!"
Sooooooo... the only GOOD thing about this is that because it's SUCH a long AIT, I can go with him and live on base. So, at some point in the near future- be it next month or next year- I will be relocating to Maryland for 9 months.
Did I mention that I don't do well with change?
Think I'm gonna throw up now.
So, Michael's at drill this weekend in Atlanta. He gets there, and the first thing he hears pretty much is "Oh, by the way... I know you just finished AIT, but we're going to send you BACK and reclass you to a combat photographer. Which is like.... a 9 month AIT. In Maryland. Have a great day!"
Sooooooo... the only GOOD thing about this is that because it's SUCH a long AIT, I can go with him and live on base. So, at some point in the near future- be it next month or next year- I will be relocating to Maryland for 9 months.
Did I mention that I don't do well with change?
Think I'm gonna throw up now.
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