It's the week before the biggest shopping day of the year, and I only have the coins in my pocket. Now, I do have several things that I do have to return to Michaels (wrong size ribbon) and Walmart (wrong size shirt), so I won't starve, but it always feels bad when I can't even get a pop on the way home. I just have to make it a week-well really 6 days now, until payday. but even then it's iffy.
I will have to move ahead, and be as careful as I can. it doesn't help that I have a cold and can't kick this cough, so not feeling my best, and being broke is bad. I need to get some cat food too, so that's a bit worse. oh-well, I will muddle through. I always do. nite. and I promise that the next post will be more upbeat, or at least informative and/or useful, not a pity party.

june 21,2012

went to work today. had a craptastic day. went home. changed clothes and crawled into bed. am posting from there with my phone hence the lack of punctuation. for some  reason the function keys do not work in the compose box. it just fits into the fantastically shitty day i had. nothing worked right at work. and i lost business because of it. as i left the problems were just finishing getting fixed. tomorrow should be better. hopefully. if anyone reads this i would like to mention that i never go to bed at nine thirty at night. i guess never iis here. goodnight and i hope your day was better than mine.

Today.

Today was like any other day. I got up, went to work, came home and watched a movie. First-let me say-The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is dark. Not completely dark-but dark enough that the darkest scenes remind me of things I would love to truly forget ever happened. Rape scenes are always hard for me to watch in movies and on tv, but with the Nine Inch Nails soundtrack it was way too close to the reality I had to live through. I think I shall listen to the music from Rent before I go to bed tonight. Those songs let me get back to where I need to be mentally-back to where hope can still exist. And right now-hope is all I can wish for.

Life-or something like it...

It's been a month since I posted last. If you're reading this I'm sorry. I am still alive and kicking...ok breathing more than kicking, at any rate.  The pit and spiral that is depression still has me in her grip. I can say(a bit proudly) that I *did* get out of bed today, and get dressed. I also left the house. Granted-I only went to the Taco Bell drive-thru and got food(I can't say dinner-because that implies there was breakfast or lunch)-but I did get up, and dressed and went out into the world. The last week I have been on 'vacation'. In other words-not at work-but paid like I was. With nowhere to be and no time to be there I had planned several days of working around the house, getting stuff cleaned up and finishing off a few projects. None of that got done. My lower back has been, lets say, problematic. The stiffness and ache I could handle, the sharp shooting pain when I move not so much. I have read 7 books since last Friday, and then yesterday I got the dreaded red-plague. Usually, the pain in the back stops when the cramps start...notice the usually at the beginning of this sentence. fml.
Tomorrow I shall venture to my mother's house and bake a cake(or two) for my father's birthday. His birthday is really Friday, but as that's when I go back to work, my mom asked him if we could move it up a day. My father(being himself) said whenever you want it, I don't care. I will be making his favorite-pineapple upside down cake(straight out of the Betty Crocker Cookbook-sans maraschino cherries).
I have been watching less Doctor Who. The only exception to this was when I re-watched the episode titled "Vincent and the Doctor" . In this episode, the Doctor and Amy visit Vincent Van Gogh during the last year of his life(1890).
I changed my desktop picture to his Almond Blossom painting(which he painted for his nephew's nursery in January 1890)- to remind me that no matter how bad things can seem in the moment-there can still be beauty-and new life, and also to remind me that one of the greatest artists ever-gave in to his depression, only 7 months after creating something so beautiful.
 My favorite part of the episode is when the Doctor explains how he sees life to Amy in the museum after she realizes that there are no new paintings-that Vincent still killed himself at the age of 37.
He says, "The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. We definitely added to his pile of good things."
I am in search of more good things to throw on my pile. The bad things-are there and will always be there. but if I can just get that pile of good things a bit higher, then maybe this hole of depression won't seem so deep, maybe I can stand on my pile of good things and see daylight from this hell I'm sinking into, just maybe.
I have been watching more Warehouse 13 gearing up for the new season coming in June. The characters have the one quality I look for on a tv show-the cobbled together family vibe. The very different people who, when thrown together, create their own family from the people around them. I still long for this kind of connection.
Yes, my actual family is nearby, and yes I see them at least once a week, but the number of things they don't realize, or know about me or how my moods really are is astronomical. Yes, I could tell them, but all that would do is make them worry, or get me the "this is a phase-you'll grow out of it" talk again. As I have been depressed most of my life, and they never noticed enough to try to get me any sort of help, I think I'll pass. And when I say I've been depressed most of my life, I'm talking grade school. First or second grade. The only one who ever noticed that I was unhappy, was my Pepe(my dad's dad). When he was dying of cancer, and my parents and I moved up to Connecticut for 6 months or so to help out, he was the reason my parents finally took me back home to Missouri.  He told them that I was miserable and to take me home.  He died later that year.
If I ever doubted that I was loved, I remember that even when bedridden and dying, he noticed me struggling. I was six. Did I complain, no. Did I say anything to anyone, no. Did I just deal with life everyday and muddle through, yes. If that wasn't the tone of how my life would go, I don't know what would be. The only person who noticed that I wasn't happy, died less than a year later.
In college, I met a guy. He was just a friend(at first). We were nearly inseparable. He helped me through some tough times, until one night when we were up talking late and we almost kissed..  That had been the best 6 weeks of my life, right up until his girlfriend got jealous and told him to stop talking to me. so he did. I wasn't trying to be the other woman, I was just surviving college as best as I could. I have his address now,16 years later, and have written him a letter-one that I will probably never send. He married her, and they are still together as far as I know. We had talked about everything, my life growing up, his life, his relationship, my rape, my family, everything. He was the first person I ever told about my rape, that hadn't known me at the time it happened. He never met the guy who did it, and never would. He didn't judge me, or assume that I had brought it on myself. He just held me while I cried. He called me his best friend for a while, and I called him mine. And then the real world crashed in and split us apart forever. After that, my choices of companionship were questionable at best. The suicidal drummer, the self absorbed tenor, the future pedophile, and the "here-let me sex the tears away" sax player. Is it any wonder I ended up a pregnant mistress? and that brings us to now-when I'm married to the father of my children.
And I should have married in quotes-as I'm alone in my apartment while my husband is living somewhere else raising a child that isn't his. It's night and raining-and no one is here to care whether or not I eat, or sleep, or get dressed, or anything. I am alone and blogging about it. If you're reading this-thank you.

wanted:one shining moment

I figured out what is missing in my life, or at the very least what I am wanting. In re-watching 'Journey's End' from the 4th season of Doctor Who, The Doctor says, "And for one moment, one shining moment, she was the most important woman in the whole wide universe."
That's what I want(no- what I need)-to be someone's most important person. My kids have grown away from that-after being ripped away from me by the state, my husband says that I am it for him-but his actions speak louder than his words ever will.
I know that I may never find that-the passion and love from one person that loves me above all others-and that I love back...but I think I have to try.
I know that my kids love me, and my parents too, and in his own self-centered way my husband loves me or at least the idea of me...but no one thinks of me first(even me.)
My mom said it best last week-"If you don't take care of you-who will?"
She was referring to the dental surgery I had 2 weeks ago-but it rings true through the rest of my life as well, who will help me? My husband is off raising a toddler that isn't his-but who needs a parent who knows(sort-of) what they're doing. My "friends" have made it perfectly clear who they value more-my husband. Lying to my face for years-and acting like they supported me-while I hear the truth from other sources-and see it with my own eyes when they think I can't see.
I tolerate them as sometimes I just need to be outside of my apartment-and not at work, but I have reconnected with friends from high school-people who remember me when I was me-not the pale shadow of me I have become. True friends-who have considered driving over 4 hours-just to give me a hug when I really needed one...friends that I only lost touch with after believing something said about them-that was so out of character-so outrageous, that I believed it because of the source-my now estranged husband.
I was so blinded by my love for him-for the one who chose me over his ex-wife...that I took him at his word-about everything-even after he lied to me and his own mother about having a terminal illness-the same one that killed his father. That's right he lied and said he was dying...and we believed him. This past year he came out of left field and said he had a heart attack-and honestly-I'm not sure I believe him. I have yet to see any documentation from a doctor-or even the ER, so I am very guarded about believing him.  What does that say about our marriage-if I doubt every word that comes out of his mouth. I think it speaks volumes....and most of them are lies, and I don't think I deserve that-I don't think anyone deserves that...and sadly the only reason I believe that I don't deserve that-is because no one deserves it...not because it's me.
I have been different all my life-what I consider normal is bonkers to the rest of the world, and people have told me I'm special, that I matter, and that I could do great things. I puff up like a blow-fish and play the part in public or at work-but at home when it's just me-I do not see it. Sure-I can be clever, and the praise when I am is great-but nothing I can do now is enough to get what I want-what I did deserve-my kids back. What kind of mom I could have been-how my kids would have turned out differently-we will never know. That future has been stolen from me along with a large chunk of my heart and soul. I may never get back to who I was or who I could have been-but I have to try. This spiral downward can only have one ending-and I don't want to die alone in my apartment curled up in bed wasting away. Depression is a bitch-but I don't have to let her win, and I certainly don't have to make it easy on her. I will not go quietly into that goodnight-I will not give up without a fight-I'm going to live on-I'm going to survive....I guess today is my independence day...(knew there was a reason I love that quote...)

Next payday, I am having a bracelet made for me-one that quotes e.e. cummings- 'I carry your heart with me-I carry it in my heart'  it will say:

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

 higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

 I love those lines-they are the end of the poem and I have always loved them best...I want someone to tell me that I am the wonder that's keeping the stars apart...that they love me so much I go where ever they go because I am in their heart...forever.

So long now-I have settled-I have given in because it's easy. But look at where that's gotten me-alone blogging in my room-that I only left today to go to the bathroom and to get food from the kitchen. Yes I did converse with other people today on my new smart phone...but I didn't get dressed, so today doesn't count as a productive day. And now I have to go -because that smart phone is ringing...and look who it is...yippee.

David Tennant's Voice...

I have been listening to David Tennant's audio reading of Stonemouth. It is awesome to hear his real accent. He even does a different voice for each character-even though it's a truly adult book-and it's entertaining. I now want the whole book, and if there is a total audio version by David Tennant-I will own it. And it makes me happy- just the way he speaks...the voice makes me fuzzy inside. I have a great desire to own Hamlet starring David as well. And the Decoy Bride- was a lovely film that I enjoyed very much-but I would love to see the end of the story, as the movie ends on the beginning of a new relationship-a new chapter as it were.  Just some adoration for the 10th Doctor...and the sexy Scotsman who played him-a man whom I love-David Tennant.
Don't judge me....

Journey's End

I just watched the Doctor Who episode 'Journey's End', when Donna ends up losing all her memories of the Doctor-because otherwise she will die. I can greatly relate to that-as two days ago, I asked my husband for a divorce.  The past 2 years, he has been a live in nanny for a boy he is raising as his own.  He didn't father the child-but he is the only father he has ever known.  While I support what and why he is doing it, I cannot live in a holding pattern for the rest of my life.  I have been living alone. I spend my nights alone, I sleep alone, I eat alone.  I pay all the bills except the phone-alone.  I am married only in the legal sense of the word-no longer in the emotional sense, or the physical sense.  I deserve to love and be loved in return-not just when it's convenient or our schedules mesh. I think that everyone deserves that chance-and if I don't speak up and voice what I need-then I don't deserve it.  For the last 6 months or so, I've been in a deeper depression than I have since my teens.  I felt the same loneliness, and hollowness then-which led to a multitude of bad relationships-often abusive ones. I won't let that happen again.  I have more backbone now then I could have dreamt of then... Also, I am not the naive little girl I used to be, I know what love can be, and I know how sex can change you.  My goals now are to get myself squared away-get my sense of self back-and to move forward.  I see what being alone has done to members of my family-and I will not allow myself to get that bad.  I am going to use my income tax return to join a 24 hr gym-so I have no excuses not to exercise- "I couldn't get to the gym before they closed..." oops-the never close. nice try. I don't think I look attractive-so why would anyone else? If I don't care enough about myself to do what I need to do in order to stay healthy-why should anyone care about me? 
I picked up the paperwork to get the legal ball rolling on my divorce. and I took off the ring. that was a big step-taking off the ring. I have worn it for over 7 years...and it feels weird not having it on. The other few times I thought I was done with my marriage-telling him was the worst thing-he promised to change, and to do what ever I needed-it created more drama and strife.  But this time, he simply told me that if that's what I needed-he wouldn't be happy about it-but he wouldn't fight it.  All I felt was relief.  No sadness, no shame, no guilt-just relief that it was done.  Because he didn't fight me at all-makes me think he knew it was coming-and that he doesn't blame me for feeling how i do. 
Right now I'm listening to Coldplay-"Paradise". This is the song that helped me realize just how far I had fallen-from the girl who was going to go to Harvard and graduate as a member of the class of 2000-fast forward to 1998-and me being academically expelled from a state university in the mid-west. Falling into a noticeable depression for the first time-even though i don't remember being happy growing up. I remember liking things-and having fun sometimes-but all encompassing happiness-no. The school always called me a serious child-but I think I was depressed. I felt isolated and alone-as an only child and as a 'gifted' child too. Every year my teachers would say I wasn't working up to my potential-nothing I ever did was good enough-I could have done better. This doesn't help motivate every child-I rebelled against it and took procrastination to a whole new level.
I have reconnected to some of my friends from high school-some have had similar life paths-one who was a year behind me in the gifted program, and like me on the fast track to a college degree-is finishing up her bachelor's degree this spring-exactly one year after I finally got mine-at the age of 34. They remember who I was-and can still see that me-buried deep in my eyes. That gives me hope-hope that someday I might recognize myself in the mirror-and possibly like what/who I see. All I can do now is forge ahead and slowly pick up the pieces-and see if they even fit anymore. Each Journey's End is also a beginning-the beginning of something entirely new...Wish me luck!

Am I the April Fool?

So-the fiction/reality thing is better-ish. I see what life is, and what I dream it could be. The Tv shows I watch, show me what could be possible-a close knit group of people who work together- a love that surpasses your wildest dreams-saving the world, repeatedly.  My job seems so unimportant-"makin' copies" and the 'friends' I have in my life now-aren't what they seem. As I've said before-my marriage is complicated-and mostly theoretical, and I'm alone most of the time. At work I wear a mask-the happy mask of someone who is enjoying life-and at home-the mask comes off-especially since no one is there to see it anyway-the person most aware of a mask-is the one wearing it.  I have moments of joy-that fade so quickly that the darkness that takes their place is so black and deep that the light is unimaginable-cannot possibly exist. Hope is a concept-and it doesn't live here. I find myself thinking the worst will happen-and sarcastically mentioning the ideal-as something that isn't even possible. This doesn't make me feel any better-but simply greases the spiral slide down. I guess I'll have to see what tomorrow brings-and whether or not my cynicism is well founded. Gee that was cheery-wasn't it.

Life as it is now...

As of late, I haven’t liked myself much.  I have realized that I have several problems that have been brewing for quite a while(nearly a decade now), and that I have no real idea how to realistically go about changing.  I know I need to change by behavior-but by now it’s not only habit it’s normal… And what’s worse, is that over time- I have become self-aware enough to realize that I have little to no will power when it comes to personal goals. I set them-sure, but then what? Sometimes I promise myself something-an activity I need to do before work, for instance, but when the alarm goes off, I lie in bed until it goes off a few more times, then reset it and snuggle down until the last possible second to get dressed for work and leave(usually 30 min before I have to clock in.) The last blog I wrote is another example…I promised to return after work and make a real entry-and yet here I am 9 days later finally posting something…

I have become someone I don’t recognize. Someone who cannot continue to live like this-but is nearly useless in knowing how to change things. They say that you won’t really change until you hit rock bottom and admit you have a problem. Well right now feels pretty low-but since I still have to figure out how to enact lasting change-I guess I’m not there…yet. I guess I should be happy that I still have a job-and that I still get out of bed to go to it every day that I’m supposed to. I do my job, and do it well (according to my last performance review [last month]) and help out whenever I can.

But after work, I go home and do as close to nothing as I can, I still work on my crafting activities-but that’s because even I realize that without them-I would do nothing at all. I read and watch tv/movies and escape into other worlds-worlds that are slowly making more sense than my own life.

 It’s scaring me how much these worlds are blending together in my own mind, how much something on a sci-fi tv show seems to explain parts of my life-and then I have an internal argument with myself and say that it can’t be true-because that’s fiction on the screen-but then my logical mind comes up with Occam’s Razor-and the simplest explanation is the right one-no matter how improbable it is….and then my intuition is caused by a great adventure with an alien and if I remember it fully-I will die. And then I tell myself that it can’t be true-because it’s only a tv show.

And then the completely paranoid part of me goes---“That’s what they want you to believe.” And I’m back to being scared-scared of my own thoughts.Think about that for a minute. How helpless and terrifying it is to be scared of the things you are thinking-the most basic thing that makes you-well you.

And if that isn’t rock bottom-then what is? Being scared of your own mind-and what it produces. My past experiences with mood altering drugs are a Pandora’s box all its own-the mine field of bad side effects is a cautionary tale-and sadly a winning point for Scientology. (Which even in my scary fiction blurred mind is a load of crap-IMHO)

 [so maybe I’m not that bad-right? Tom Cruise is still waaaayy more crazy than I am]

What doesn’t help-is the memories I have of my father doing the same thing when I was growing up-not the blurring of fiction thoughts(since I can’t read minds)-but the get up-go to work, come home read and watch tv-go to bed and repeat. I don’t know if this is normal-or a byproduct of our horrible year-round allergies-the complete exhaustion that comes from the fight to simply breathe and stay alive.  

I have no idea how to end this post without scaring anyone-other than to say this-none of my scary thoughts involve hurting myself or others. 

And there is a glimmer of hope-today I got up 3 hours before work-so I could write this post- keeping a promise to myself that today I would do something productive before work. So today is a good day(so far-optimism can only get you so far-realism is far bleaker-but at least it is rooted in reality-not fiction). 

Update: 3/22/12

I'm on my way to work right now(ok so I'm really on my way to getting off the computer to go to work as soon as I finish this small post) and I will be posting a real post after I get home from work. I still don't know if anyone reads this-but I figure that maybe someone will someday-and then if I'm interesting enough, they will want to start at the beginning and read all the way through-so I am promising to post after work today-here and now in writing. on the interwebs where everyone can see if I did it or not...because as I tweeted earlier today(in three parts) "Deciding you need to change your life is hard; Deciding how to change your life is difficult: and enacting lasting change in your life can feel impossible-especially if you never even try."
I know-deep stuff... and then I realized I had less than 20 tweets to go to reach 1000! so I will be blogging after work...and then probably tweeting about blogging...and yes I realize I just blogged about tweeting...so it's the circle that never ends... but I'll pin something on pinterest too to round out my online trifecta tonight. AFTER work...which I really need to get going to make it on time....grrr. TTFN

Hello Interwebs! 03/08/2012

Hello, and welcome to the first post of
"The World According to Neé"
Allow me to introduce-well me.  I  am a mom/wife who also works full-time in retail, crafter (when I have time), baker (when I[or someone I know]has a need), reader (when I'm not doing anything else)-and blogger after that. Beware-I can(and will) be blunt when I feel the need.
As I write this, I am eating my dinner-after working a full shift, I came home to warm up leftovers from my birthday dinner at Olive Garden.  That's right, I recently had a birthday. Don't get all worked up-it wasn't a milestone birthday or anything-just the 34th one.
I've been out of sorts since the actual day however, so life has been a bit of a roller coaster ride.
Up front, let me tell you, while I am a mom, my kids don't live with me. Someday, I may go into the whys and the whatnots, but for now let me just say it's way too complicated to get into in the first post. (And since I'm so into sharing right now)I am married,but my husband isn't around much these days. So while I am a mom/wife, at home I am simply the one taking care of 'The boys' my two cats. ['the boys' are Rambo and Joey-more about them later]
I have suffered from depression in the past, and to be perfectly honest-probably am right now.
I don't take medication for it, and yes I've tried them all. The myriad of side effects made my quality of life worse than the depression ever did. So I deal with it.
I work 40+ hrs a week, pay my bills, and keep the house from burning down. I am functioning-so I just go with it. My way doesn't work all the time, but I have learned to ask for help when I need it...mostly.
I don't recommend my way to anyone-it just works(for the most part) for me. I do have two meds I use fairly regularly-one for panic attacks and the other for insomnia. Working with the public sometimes triggers an attack-but since crying in the corner of an office supply store is not approved behavior-I have the pills. And for the nights(like tonight) when I can simply not get my mind to stop churning-I have the sleeping pills. I am not suicidal-nor have I ever been-but I have had friends that were. I know the signs, and am honest enough with myself to recognize my state of mind.
wow-this got way more dark and personal than I intended- so I think I'll end here for tonight. If you're still reading-then "Thanks!"-and I promise that next time will not be quite so dreary. I may even post a couple of pics of 'the boys'(and our recently departed third cat, Gabe.)
Sorry again for all the doom and gloom and death...I am a relatively upbeat person...I swear!