Lately, I’ve been feeling crushed. Crushed by this feeling of impending failure. This doom and gloom cloud that follows me as I get closer to the fateful start of my new life. I’m terrified, the excitement is giving way to absolute terror.

I’m already uninsured because my last workplace decided to fuck me out of my plan before my contract ended. That means no therapy sessions or meds until I hear back from Medicaid because now I am Medicare eligible. On top of that, I will probably have to say farewell to my therapist because her practice doesn’t accept Medicaid. No sertraline or lorazepam until I get my paperwork sorted so. I have enough for not even a week. I’m already losing it a bit, probably from the increased panic. I’ve fixated and obsessed a few times this week. I’ve cried feeling overwhelmed when things aren’t even bad. 

Luckily, Stephen has been receptive and despite him displaying a lack of empathy a couple of times he always comes around. I really appreciate that about him. We had a chill movie night and he gave me lots of love and cuddles and food. I am just worried about time management. I’ll have classes, no meds, working as much as I can, and barely any time to see him. How will I make it work?

The pressure is crushing, everything feels like it’s closing in. My therapist texts me to take it one step at a time but I feel like I am falling into despair. When I have orientation for my school, I am going to bring up the Medicaid issue because I know I won’t be the only one.


When It Hurts

Lately, I feel like next to nothing is going the way I like. There’s not much positive to look forward to except the looming end of the school year after this week. Love life I have halted completely because dating is not fun for me anymore. I want to put effort into relationships with friends and family who make the time for me and care for me in the way I need.

But inevitably, I fuck that up to by talking to my coworker, the one I went to NOLA with… the one that I dumped in February. Talking and hanging out, it isn’t wise when neither of us knows what to make of these feelings. I am trying to do this volunteer camp where they fucked up communicating to me that I needed to attend an orientation. Now I am given an option not as a camp counselor but running AV which I have never done audio/visual shite except take my own selfies.

The theme of this fucking year so far is that I tried and I have been failing. I don’t have room for some cheesy let’s make this happen bit. I am just so tired.  I come back from work exhausted. I am tired of people and things and places that cannot get their shit together and want me to be flexible and roll with it. I’m done being flexible, I am done being understanding and open. I am the vulnerable one and then I am left in the dust.

It hurts a lot that I try and try and it’s just epic failure. It’s kind of hard to imagine if I want to do big and great things that these small failures I can hardly handle. What about the big stuff? This shit is going to get repetitive and things are going to keep going tits up but how am I going to dig deep and keep going?

All I can manage to do right now is feel the failure and wade through it. My defenses are up and I am shutting certain things down. Dating. Shut down. Socializing during the week. Shut down. I would just like to take a break from a lot of things and soon I will have that much needed time away. Even so, things seem bleak and yes I’ve heard all the “keep going” and other junk before. I don’t want positivity now, I just need some empathy from people who get it.

Of dreaming and trying

I usually unwind in the evening with a documentary. One night, I watched Deep Water. It is a documentary about the catastrophic Sunday Times Golden Globe Race held in 1968-1969. It was a nonstop, round the world yacht race with the stipulation that it must be done singlehandedly.


I never heard of the race myself. I watch lots of man vs. nature or man vs. himself documentaries. I find them either compelling or utterly ridiculous; usually enjoyable. This particular doc about the race was titillating and shocking. These men had to race in a time without GPS and had to either build or choose their boats then stock it up for this solo voyage.

Most participants were experienced sailors but there was a “no experience necessary” aspect to the race, literally anyone who raised the money to enter could do it! That’s where Donald Crowhurst comes in. He was an amateur sailor with high hopes of winning the prize.

Spoiler alert: Donald doesn’t win. In fact, he goes insane and lies about his coordinates which is pretty hard to falsify then he commits suicide. I admit I was watching this documentary super late at night and I woke up to find out his ultimate demise. It made me sob. I am not kidding. I legit cried my heart out for this man. I don’t know if it’s the visual storytelling, his life/death, or a combination of both that went deep for me.

The idea of having all these odds against you but the dream is there. You want to try your damn hardest and you lose your way. You make mistakes, huge mistakes. He had a family he wanted to win the prize for because he was in quite some money trouble. He had support from a nation, his family, and then when it turned out that he failed quite miserable… He was fucking forgotten and everyone who wasn’t his family didn’t give two shits about him anymore.

Thankfully, the winner of the competition donated the money to Crowhurst’s family. It was just a hugely tragic adventure. There’s more recognition of Crowhurst now and appreciation for his attempts at such a large task. His family according to the documentary still view him in a positive life. He dreamed, he tried, yes he failed but there is some beauty in it, I feel.



A confession.

I talked with my new coworker/head teacher this week about blogging and how I am terrible at keeping it a routine. I am getting to know her better each day, she is so confident and knows what she likes. I used to be that way. Lately, I have been rather listless but striving for change. I was way more confident and took way more chances, now I am tend to stay in the background where it’s safe. I occasionally go out of my comfort zone but only occasionally.

So here is me going at it again to keep this up.

Also I was dumped today by my boyfriend. Before all the pity and I’m sorry this happened you, etc. This isn’t my first rodeo in the break up arena. This however is the first time someone I am in love with broke up with me cruelly and without mercy. Yes, there were petty arguments leading up to it and there has been months of stagnation… But today I was told that there was no empathy or patience left for me. That I am only confident around those I am comfortable with, on my own terms and that I’m not confident outright. I make too many demands. The list goes on.

Basically all my deficiencies in the relationships were put on blast and I didn’t fight it. No ma’am. I listened, I agreed, I said my piece and as soon as the “I have no empathy or patience for you” came out of that phone, I hung up. I cried, I sobbed. I couldn’t believe that someone I love could talk to me so hatefully and claim that my selfless acts paled in comparison to his true selflessness.

My language about my relationship on this blog has been rather vague and now I can clarify without shame or concern over hurting the man I love most. Last year, I antagonized my boyfriend physically after he used a door to crush my body accidentally. Incensed and a witness to physical abuse as a child, I lashed out by breaking his phone and in my boyfriend’s attempts to flee he grabbed liquid soap and threw the soapy substance into my eyes to blind me. He yelled, I yelled and yes it burned like a motherfucker. It didn’t end there. I really wish it did.

I hit him on his way out. I forget his words exactly, I tried to block them out but he told me something along the lines of “you want to fight?” With that he took me down to the floor, sat on me and slapped me repeatedly all over my face. He tore at my shirt and my chest was exposed. I screamed and tried to defend myself, it was fruitless. I screamed bloody murder until he placed his hands on my throat and choked me. My screams were silenced and I saw black until he stopped himself. Shocked as to what occurred, he leaned against the wall while I cried and asked “Why, why, why?” He picked me up off the floor and I tried to shove him away. He cleaned up my wounds as I cried and lamented that I became like my mother. A victim.

This night haunts me even when I think I’ve forgiven him. I know what I did was wrong. I broke his property, I slapped him, I pushed him. It wasn’t right. I didn’t make wise choices. But what he did in response wasn’t right either. He could have killed me.

I called the police. I demanded he go to anger management and counseling because promises were not enough. There have been close calls since then, where I phoned police. He broke a door, he’s thrown me into the street. It’s been a hard two years in this relationship. I have anxiety even before this relationship but opening up about my dislikes has become difficult.

He’s made lots of strides but we both tuned the world out. Him more so than me. He lost his drive. These past months have been peaceful. However, my disgruntled requests sometimes too late leave him feeling as if I demand too much. He reminded me of all he does or did. Going to jail once, paying for anger management and therapy, sending me letters, videos, flowers, when I refused to date him until I relented last summer. I found his ceaseless efforts to be that of someone who is willing to be accountable for what occurred. As I try to be as well.

For now, we go our separate ways but now I no longer have to keep this secret close to me. To protect him and to protect myself. It happened. We can’t be a couple anymore because the empathy was lost, but maybe he can forgive me over time all those demands… as I try to forgive him everyday for what happened that night.

Finding another way

This month, I want try something new. Not like sky diving or motorcycle lessons… I mean I want to find another way to get creative. I put myself in this position where I place tons of pressure on accomplishing something huge then I feel I will fail so I just stop everything.

I want to try new things and practice being that brave person. I am happiest when I create so I must do it! I just need a pep talk for when the failures come. I think it is time I talk about them instead of just avoid the conversation.