Mirror, Mirror

I've been in Denver for almost a year now. I go to school full time, I work two jobs, and I'm currently in the middle of moving to a new place. I've done well for the last year. I've gotten good grades, I've done well at my jobs, but as the classes have gotten harder, my stress level has gone up and now with moving adding to an already difficult quarter, the cracks are starting to show. For the first time, I'm not doing well in a few of my classes. I'm struggling with finding enough time to study. I'm struggling with feeling exhausted all the time. I go seven days a week. The snow day we had last Wednesday was the first full day I'd had off in a few months. The cracks are showing and I don't know how to fix them. I live in a stupidly expensive city. I can't afford to quit one of my jobs. I'm trying to graduate by next summer so I don't incur a ridiculous amount of debt and so I can actually start working. I mean, I'm 28. Most of my friends and fellow students around the same age have at least one associates degree and most have a bachelors. Me? I'm at my fourth college trying to get the associates degree I failed to get two years ago.

Future, What Future?

What do you do when you begin to wonder if you're truly cut out for the career path you've started down? What do you do when you begin to question everything that you've been striving for? It seemed so clear initially, everything made sense. But as time passes, it becomes less and less clear. I went for the more practical career, the one that was respectable and made sense. I've always loved animals, always been good with them. But the science of it all makes my head spin, makes it hard to enjoy what I'm doing. So I start to wonder, is it for me. And then I come back to, god, what a failure I would be again if I gave it up with just two semesters to go. But then, what does it say when I dread going back and trying to wrap my mind around all these complex procedures. I love animals, but is that enough? And more and more, I'm thinking not. I find the science interesting, fascinating even, but the understanding of it often eludes me.

Just Be Held

So this is going to be a brutally honest post about myself, so word to the wise that it's going to be a bit dark and depressing and weird because that's basically my life.  So here goes.

So lately I've been struggling with a lot of stuff with life and just personally with my depression.  I've been feeling very stuck in life, not knowing where I'm going and just feeling like I'm really going nowhere and feeling very hopeless.  It's gotten to the point where I started cutting again a couple weeks ago and actually did some research on suicide methods.  I always end up realizing that I'm too much of a coward to actually go through with it which in some ways makes me more depressed.  So nobody panic, I'm not going to go kill myself or anything, so no worries.  Basically though I've felt like my life is just going to pieces.

My mom, being the intuitive mother that she is, realized that I've been struggling lately and sent me a song by Casting Crowns that she thought would be good for me.  Now here's where things start getting serious.  I don't listen to much Christian music anymore, mainly because I don't feel like I'm really a Christian anymore.  I've never figured that I was a particularly strong Christian.  I always struggled with my faith even when I was younger and was active in church and youth group and about as much of a church kid/teen as is possible.  I struggled with trusting in someone other than myself.  I was bullied and teased a lot when I was younger and I became the strong, tough kid who became a bit of a bully herself.  I learned to swear, to make myself more physically imposing so people would leave me alone, and when someone teased or made fun of me, I responded right back.  I stopped letting people in.  I was a weird kid and was never really accepted by other kids anyway.  At public school I had friends who would suddenly decide they didn't want to be friends with me because the cool kids didn't like me or the cool kids would pretend to accept me into their group and then ditch me.  I learned early on not to trust people.  At church I was also teased and judged and generally left out which could be part of the reason I have so much trouble fitting into a church, because I'm thinking everyone there is judging me and I'm this outsider and don't belong.  So that's the long explanation of why I figure I have so much trouble with trusting in God or anyone else and leaning on Him with things in life, big and small.  I feel like I have to fix myself by myself.  "Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know."  Yeah, I totally get Elsa.

Never Take Friendship Personal

So I realize it's been quite some time since I've gotten on here.  My life has simply not been interesting enough to write about (I work at a dry cleaners.  Can you say boring?) and I haven't had any profound thoughts to talk about either.  So I ended up just letting things slide.  As I have often said in the past, we'll see if I can't do better.  Don't hold your breath though, you might be holding it a very long time!

So life really has been fairly boring.  I work mornings, go home, and stay home.  I go out with a select group of friends once or twice a week, but that is literally the extent of my social life.  I'm actually going to see a Christian romance film that's showing for one night only on Monday night and I'm actually kinda terrified because 1) I won't really know anyone there and I don't know the people I do know who are going very well, and 2) it's a romance which is the kind of movie I always avoid because they depress me.  Aaaaah!  Freaking out in 4...3...2...1...days. We'll see how it goes.

In any case, I find my lack of a social life to be rather ironically amusing because I was so much more social when I was younger and I always figured I would have even more of a social life as I got older.  Nope!  How things change.  I think that point has really hit home recently with checking out my Timehop the last couple of weeks and seeing all the friends I used to have and all the people who liked and commented on my various social media posts in years past.  It's just made me realize how much, as I've gotten older, I've fallen out of touch with those people and failed to really make any other lasting friendships.

A Valentine's Day To Remember

In the past I've always hated Valentine's Day or Single's Awareness Day as I tended to call it along with the myriad of other people who didn't have a significant other to spend the day with.  I would get depressed that I was still single after however many years it had been since my ex and I broke up.  So I would spend Valentine's Day depressed that I was single and annoyed every time I saw some giggling couple go by.  For the most part I've gotten better with it and just tried to focus on other things and convince myself it wasn't a big deal.  This year was slightly harder because within the last couple of months several people I know have either gotten married or announced that they're expecting kids.  Normally I wouldn't think much of it except for the fact that they're all three, even four years younger than me.  Much as I am happy for them it does make me very aware of the fact that I haven't had a real date in almost exactly four years now while many of my Facebook friends, most of whom are my age or younger, are raving about their fantastic boyfriends or girlfriends and the latest date they've gone on.  And I know, nobody wants to date the fat girl, but when most of the girls at my work who are my size or bigger are also raving about their fantastic boyfriends or girlfriends, I start to figure something must be seriously wrong with me.

The Beauty Within

One of the things I have struggled with for many years now is my perception of beauty. My heart knows that beauty comes from within and I can see that beauty in others. But when I look at myself, I judge myself by outward appearance. I'm the girl who has to look perfect, who refuses to go anywhere without makeup because I think I'm so unattractive. I'm the girl who looks in the mirror and hates what she sees cause I'm not stick thin, my hair's not perfect, there's a small gap in my teeth, etc. I notice every single little flaw.

Merry Christmas?

Have you ever had a Christmas where it just doesn't feel like Christmas?  The tree's all decorated, the lights are up, the presents are wrapped, the cards are signed, the Christmas story's been read, etc., etc.  Yet even with all that, there's just no joy, no excitement, nothing.  That's how my Christmas started out.  When I was woken up by one of my dogs licking my face, it felt like any other day.  I knew it wasn't, but that's what it felt like.  It made me think of those Christmases when I was little kid that I would wake up at the crack of dawn and run into my parents room and jump on their bed till they woke up and we would go open presents.  I miss those days of simplicity and of belief in Santa.  Things really were easier in some ways.

When I finally hauled myself out of bed and got out of my room and wished a Merry Christmas to the rest of my family, my grandmother responded with, "Doesn't feel very merry does it?"  I knew exactly what she meant, but saying it out loud just added to the depression I already felt.  It was hard not to dwell on the fact that Grandpa wasn't going to be there.  Thanksgiving hadn't been nearly this hard, probably because about half the family wasn't able to make it anyway.  For Christmas though, the entire family was showing up, including my grandmother on my mom's side who suffers from dementia.  Eleven people, a permanent odd number for the first time in twenty years.

Don't Be Bitter, Be Better

Update:  In the three years since writing this my relationship with my grandmother has not improved.  I'm no longer bitter towards her because of the reasons listed below, but I'm no loner the adoring granddaughter who thought her grandmother could do no wrong.  People always talk about that when you live with someone you get to see everything about them, the good and the bad.  That was certainly the case here, though what became apparent was more bad than good.  The longer we lived together, the more I discovered that I really did not know my grandmother at all and there was a side to her that I did not like at all that drove wedge in our relationship.  The one good thing that came from it all was that it brought my mother and I together.  We'd always had a bit of a rocky relationship, but through the issues that came up with my grandmother we began to talk more and develop a better relationship.  At this point we've become quite close and I'm thankful for that even if it did come at the cost of my relationship with my grandmother.   I still don't like Albuquerque thought I've gotten used to it..  I really am a country girl and anytime I'm able to drive out more into the country whether its back out into the mountains or in more recent times out in Rio Rancho, I'm happy.  I still hate the fact that my dogs are cooped up in their pen and that our cats have never really seemed to adjust to the new house.  I also ended up driving by our home in Edgewood about a year and a half ago and discovered that people who bought our house had gotten rid of my chickens and my rooster which left me in tears.  Despite my love for wide open spaces and a more secluded home, living in Albuquerque isn't completely unbearable and I'm happy with it for now.  I don't plan on living here forever and I still dream of finding some quiet little spot I can call my own.

~*~

Recently I've been struggling with some bitterness towards the last person I ever thought I would be bitter towards:  my grandmother.  Isn't it funny how things can change so fast?  The cause can be directly traced back to my family's move back into Albuquerque.  Now to most people that probably doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but for me, it's been pretty huge.  I'm a country girl at heart, not a city girl.

Time Heals

Update:
I originally published this post on my grandmother's birthday going on three years ago.  I find it funny that I was surprised that after two months the pain of my grandfather's death was still there, was still fresh.  Almost three years later just re-posting about my grandfather's death on my new blog as I move everything over had me sobbing.  Even now re-reading this post, I can feel the tears running down my face.  I had no clue then how much my grandfather's death would change me, would define me.  I wasn't prepared for the deep depression it plunged me into that shattered my world and left me drowning in a sea of pain and sadness.  Almost three years later and the wounds still haven't healed.  I'm beginning to realize that maybe they never will.  True, I have more control of my emotions, I can hold back the tears if I need to, I can hide the pain, but the wounds are still raw.  Though they don't happen as frequently, there are still days when I hate myself for not having spent more time with him, that I blame myself for his death.  So much is an internal struggle, the desire to go visit his grave for the first time since he was laid to rest, yet not having the strength to make the trip on my own.  With the holidays coming up, I miss him even more and I find myself realizing that things are never going to go back to the way they were before his death, no matter how much I may want them to.

Open Eyes

So, as some of you all know, my family is moving back into town to a house that will allow my grandparents on my dad's side to come live with us. This move is what I was talking about in my last post. Basically, just as I said then, I've been really, really struggling with it. What's made it worse is that a lot of people, particularly close friends, have been acting like it's not really a big deal and I should just get over it. Not easy for me. I am a very emotional person and I get attached to things and people very quickly, and very easily. I have lived in this house for almost eight years. The best memories I have happened while we were living at this house. The best friend I ever had, our first dog, Shiloh, is buried in our backyard. This move means leaving him behind. There have been so many emotions going through me that I've felt like I was being ripped apart.

On the one hand there's the part of me that understands that we need to do this. My grandparents really do need our help, particularly my grandfather. It's being hammered home even now as my grandfather is in the hospital with the flu and is barely coherent. But then there's the selfish part of me that doesn't want to leave. That reminds me that this place we're going to is the last place I would ever want to live. Not just because of it's location which is bad enough, but also because it's so old and it doesn't feel like home. There's also the fact that this has all happened so fast that I'm still trying to process it. My life has become one endless cycle of work and packing. The only time I see any of my friends is on Sundays at church for a couple hours and most of that time is spent in the service and Sunday School, so there is very little time for interaction. And therein lies my other fear of moving. Already I feel as if my friends are slipping away as I barely see them anymore and when I do it feels like it's nothing more than just hi and bye. And if I'm living in town, at least thirty minutes away from them, how is that going to affect our relationship.

Out With the Old, In With the New

Recently, I've been struggling with a lot of stuff.  Some pretty major emotional ups and downs and changes.  And finally, finally, today, I kind of just thought through things and decided that I really needed to get out of this rut I've been digging myself into for years.  I needed to turn around and give everything to God and let Him handle it.  I also realized that part of the reason I was have such serious emotional issues was because of my music.  I'm a Christian, yes, but that doesn't mean that I only listen to Christian music.  I've come to realize that little by little I have removed the majority of my Christian music from my MP3 player to make room for newer non-Christian music I had either heard or found.  As I thought about it today, I realized that at least 3/4 of my music was not Christian, and about 1/2 was not edifying or really good in any way.  I realized that I had started to subtly move towards some edgier music.  Nothing explicit, maybe a curse word here or there or a mild suggestion, but it was affecting me, and not in a good way.