authenticityappreciated-blog

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This.

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LA is full of lonely people

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Childhood trauma, part time jobs, and PTSD

March 15, 2018 I try to be positive and control the energy that I allow into my life. Lately I’ve been harboring negativity though. And when everything in my world is unstable or uncomfortable, depression is one constant I can always depend on. I started working at a boutique three months ago. I run the entire store by myself during my shifts. It’s fun, and something about seeing other women feel sexy and secure in an outfit that I helped them pick out, is very rewarding. Commission doesn’t hurt either. Going from being a drug addicted prostitute to this, I take pride in being able to say that I have a job, and that I’m trusted to handle a store all by myself. I do the best I can everyday. I have a coworker that I’ve been feeling bad vibes from. The way she will correct me about little things, or the way she declines any offer of generosity. For example I got a perfume sampler from Sephora, the ones where you try seven perfumes and then pick your favorite to get in a full size rollerball. I offered for her to choose one she likes and keep it. Her exact response was that even if she did get one she would never wear it because she always wears the same perfume. A few days later I was on the toilet pondering the perfume encounter. I just made a mental note to stop buying any perfume for a while because I’ve racked up quite the collection. What girl doesn’t love perfume. And even though I have one or two that are my ‘go-to’ scents, I’m always up for trying something different or finding something better. Why would any girl turn down free perfume? That was just one of the several snide comments that have been made by her. I have been friendly to her since the beginning. I’ve even stayed two hours after my shift to cover for her. My boss is also my friend. She’s the one who got me the job. I called her. I told her I needed to discuss matters between my coworker and I regarding some of her comments. My boss wanted to handle it, but I warned her that I was confiding this to her as a friend, just to get it off my chest, and to sort of warn her that my radar was sending bad signals. My boss reluctantly promised not to bring it up with the owners. It wasn’t even a week before the complaints about me started to roll in to my boss/friend. One day I forgot to turn the music on, another day I forgot to turn on one out of many lamps in the store, small simple mistakes that could easily be fixed in seconds and no one would no. But no, she made sure to bring it to light to my boss and the higher ups. When I got the first text reminding me to concentrate on making sure I do these little things because they’re important. I agree that they are important, but I wish my coworker had pointed it out to me instead of going to the head honchos. The second text was friendly but with a stern tone. She shouldn’t have to repeat herself several times that I complete these small tasks. I have to start being more attentive. Since then I’ve been going in to work uncertain. My hands shake as I write out the amount of each currency, my mind races, I have an unsteady feeling in the back of my head that I’ve done something wrong or I’ve forgotten something, I don’t hear what people are saying, my chest feels like I’m on a roller coaster, I get startled at the slightest noises. My anxiety is through the roof. I used to believe PTSD is bullshit. But the more power I have given this girl over me, the more I truly believe I am a sufferer of PTSD. The way I constantly wonder about her and live in fear that she is going to ‘tell on me’ again. To me the fear seems totally rational. Until my boss and my therapist begin asking me why I’m doubting myself. The first few weeks of my job I was confident, cool, calm, collected. I had faith that I would go in the store and run things as smoothly as possible, have good sales numbers, and everyone would be pleased with me. I had a tough childhood. My babysitter kept my cousin, her two grandchildren, and myself. My cousin didn’t like it there and left a few years before me. She was quite young when she left and didn’t experience much trauma there or either can’t remember. My babysitter was hateful towards me. Her grandchildren would make up stories about me to get me in trouble, or they would tell me to do something that I didn’t know was ‘bad’. They would run to their grandmother, my babysitter, and say that I had done this or that. Sometimes I did, under their direction, and sometimes I didn’t. If I did do it, I didn’t know I was doing something wrong. Both of them enjoyed watching me being spanked, yelled at, and put in time out, so they did this frequently. The repetition of this occurance I believe has conciously or unconsciously taken its toll on me. I have always been the type of person who thought PTSD doesn’t really exist. That everyone in life experiences trauma, some people more extreme than others, but no one should use that as an excuse for why they are the way they are. I guess I haven’t really felt deserving to admit what a debilitating influence my childhood has made on my mental health and well being. On top of everything else I experience these terrible nightmares, most of which I do not remember. I know this because my room mate often wakes me up out of my sleep. I’ll be crying out loud, or most recently begging someone to ‘get me out of here’. Sometimes it scares my room mate. My therapist says that it’s not good for her to wake me up during a dream because it’s my brain trying to process a thought. My room mate situation is a whole other blog post in itself, so basically I don’t tell her not to wake me up. Tensions are already high between us and it’s already uncomfortable enough sharing a room with her as it is. I live in a sober living right now, so I don’t really have a say in who I share a room with. I’ll keep you posted about all of that. I’m hoping to learn how to just believe in myself and not let anyone take my confidence and integrity away from me. It’s an extremely hard thing to do. Which is exactly why I wrote this post. Because days and weeks like this one I’m experiencing, sometimes all you can do is acknowledge your feelings and be aware of where they stem from. I have to learn to be nice to myself and realize that I am not a lazy fuck up who is doing a terrible job, I’m not a bitch and I don’t deserve bad things. I deserve good things, I do my best at work, I’m nice to people, I don’t need to panic or receive irrational messages my brain tries to send me. Today hasn’t been a very good day, but I’m still a good person. And I am being empathetic towards myself. And the hypersensitivity I’m experiencing is a direct result of PTSD. And even though some days I want to double or triple my medication to numb myself out, that is the wrong thing to do. I hope this post reaches someone with PTSD. You are not alone. PS I’m not a writer, and I didn’t spell check today. 💕 Acknowledge your pain and thanks for reading!, Jodi b

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Childhood trauma, part time jobs, and PTSD

March 15, 2018 I try to be positive and control the energy that I allow into my life. Lately I’ve been harboring negativity though. And when everything in my world is unstable or uncomfortable, depression is one constant I can always depend on. I started working at a boutique three months ago. I run the entire store by myself during my shifts. It’s fun, and something about seeing other women feel sexy and secure in an outfit that I helped them pick out, is very rewarding. Commission doesn’t hurt either. I take pride in being able to say that I have a job, and that I’m trusted to handle a store all by myself. I do the best I can everyday. I have a coworker that I’ve been feeling bad vibes from. The way she will correct me about little things, or the way she declines any offer of generosity. For example I got a perfume sampler from Sephora, the ones where you try seven perfumes and then pick your favorite to get in a full size rollerball. I offered for her to choose one she likes and keep it. Her exact response was that even if she did get one she would never wear it because she always wears the same perfume. A few days later I was on the toilet pondering the perfume encounter. I just made a mental note to stop buying any perfume for a while because I’ve racked up quite the collection. What girl doesn’t love perfume. And even though I have one or two that are my ‘go-to’ scents, I’m always up for trying something different or finding something better. Why would any girl turn down free perfume? That was just one of the several snide comments that have been made by her. I have been friendly to her since the beginning. I’ve even stayed two hours after my shift to cover for her. My boss is also my friend. She’s the one who got me the job. I called her. I told her I needed to discuss matters between my coworker and I regarding some of her comments. My boss wanted to handle it, but I warned her that I was confiding this to her as a friend, just to get it off my chest, and to sort of warn her that my radar was sending bad signals. My boss reluctantly promised not to bring it up with the owners. It wasn’t even a week before the complaints about me started to roll in to my boss/friend. One day I forgot to turn the music on, another day I forgot to turn on one out of many lamps in the store, small simple mistakes that could easily be fixed in seconds and no one would no. But no, she made sure to bring it to light to my boss and the higher ups. When I got the first text reminding me to concentrate on making sure I do these little things because they’re important. I agree that they are important, but I wish my coworker had pointed it out to me instead of going to the head honchos. The second text was friendly but with a stern tone. She shouldn’t have to repeat herself several times that I complete these small tasks. I have to start being more attentive. Since then I’ve been going in to work uncertain. My hands shake as I write out the amount of each currency, my mind races, I have an unsteady feeling in the back of my head that I’ve done something wrong or I’ve forgotten something, I don’t hear what people are saying, my chest feels like I’m on a roller coaster, I get startled at the slightest noises. My anxiety is through the roof. I used to believe PTSD is bullshit. But the more power I have given this girl over me, the more I truly believe I am a sufferer of PTSD. The way I constantly wonder about her and live in fear that she is going to ‘tell on me’ again. To me the fear seems totally rational. Until my boss and my therapist begin asking me why I’m doubting myself. The first few weeks of my job I was confident, cool, calm, collected. I had faith that I would go in the store and run things as smoothly as possible, have good sales numbers, and everyone would be pleased with me. I had a tough childhood. My babysitter kept my cousin, her two grandchildren, and myself. My cousin didn’t like it there and left a few years before me. She was quite young when she left and didn’t experience much trauma there or either can’t remember. My babysitter was hateful towards me. Her grandchildren would make up stories about me to get me in trouble, or they would tell me to do something that I didn’t know was ‘bad’. They would run to their grandmother, my babysitter, and say that I had done this or that. Sometimes I did, under their direction, and sometimes I didn’t. If I did do it, I didn’t know I was doing something wrong. Both of them enjoyed watching me being spanked, yelled at, and put in time out, so they did this frequently. The repetition of this occurance I believe has conciously or unconsciously taken its toll on me. I have always been the type of person who thought PTSD doesn’t really exist. That everyone in life experiences trauma, some people more extreme than others, but no one should use that as an excuse for why they are the way they are. I guess I haven’t really felt deserving to admit what a debilitating influence my childhood has made on my mental health and well being. On top of everything else I experience these terrible nightmares, most of which I do not remember. I know this because my room mate often wakes me up out of my sleep. I’ll be crying out loud, or most recently begging someone to ‘get me out of here’. Sometimes it scares my room mate. My therapist says that it’s not good for her to wake me up during a dream because it’s my brain trying to process a thought. My room mate situation is a whole other blog post in itself, so basically I don’t tell her not to wake me up. Tensions are already high between us and it’s already uncomfortable enough sharing a room with her as it is. I live in a sober living right now, so I don’t really have a say in who I share a room with. I’ll keep you posted about all of that. I’m hoping to learn how to just believe in myself and not let anyone take my confidence and integrity away from me. It’s an extremely hard thing to do. Which is exactly why I wrote this post. Because days and weeks like this one I’m experiencing, sometimes all you can do is acknowledge your feelings and be aware of where they stem from. I have to learn to be nice to myself and realize that I am not a lazy fuck up who is doing a terrible job, I’m not a bitch and I don’t deserve bad things. I deserve good things, I do my best at work, I’m nice to people, I don’t need to panic or receive irrational messages my brain tries to send me. Today hasn’t been a very good day, but I’m still a good person. And I am being empathetic towards myself. And the hypersensitivity I’m experiencing is a direct result of PTSD. And even though some days I want to double or triple my medication to numb myself out, that is the wrong thing to do. I hope this post reaches someone with PTSD. You are not alone. Acknowledge your pain, Jodi b

[authenticityappreciated-blog]

March 11, 2018

I go to Sephora way more than I should. As of right now I would be in denial if I claimed to be ‘sort of’ a shopaholic. I definitely shop and spend money way more than I should. I’m always looking for the best product. These are a few of the products I got today. I’m poor now, but at least I’ll have smooth, glowing skin! ;)

 I justify buying clothes, make up, and skin care by saying that it’s self care. Technically, it is. I’m posting this because I’m going to post a review in a week or two on all of these products. And I’m also not aloud to shop at all for one month besides food or vape coils. 

I already have what an average girl would be thrilled to have. I feel like I haven’t even taken the time to appreciate my belongings. I run to the next best thing. My goal is to no longer do that. 

So my objective for this post is to be aware and be more mindful of what I’m spending. 

And writing reviews on each product will give me reason to stop and take time to enjoy my products and really get an idea of what they are doing for my skin.

That’s all for today folks.

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First blog post

I was born October 14th, 1992 in Greensboro, North Carolina. Today is March 10th, 2018 and I am currently a single, 25 year old young woman living in Los Angeles, and working part-time at a boutique. I’ve been told by many that I have a story to tell. 

I have a lot to write about that’s for sure. My dad-eager to assist his oldest daughter into finally deciding to take her very first college class five years after somehow getting her G.E.D. while simultaneously feeding a demanding heroin addiction-ordered me a dell chrome book a week ago. He’s a good guy, he deserves more credit.  

The last time I seriously wrote in a journal, I was sixteen years old living in a juvenile detention group home. Ah, teen angst at its finest. So now it’s been almost ten years. Since then, a lot has changed and a lot has stayed the same. 

I spent a week waiting on the arrival of this laptop, and the last year trying to slowly become a more productive, bad ass version of myself. Somewhere between then and now, I had the idea to create a blog, and I now have the tools to do so.

 Most blogs have a main objective that they post about. Right now, there are a plethora of concepts that I’m intrigued to blog about, but the main scheme here is that I’m a young, financially limited, hip/hype bae, sweet, curious, smart, clueless, hood rich, shopaholic, recovering female who wants to make a difference, feel secure, be happy, find a career I love, eat whatever I want and maintain a good figure, love, be loved, smile at my bank account, stay woke, and find my place in this world. I think I’m on the right path because I kind of like my life now.

Although I’m no longer a hard core junkie/crackhead/homeless/prostitute, I’m still far from where I want to be. And I’m still an addict. I still fuck up A LOT, still have tons of work to do on myself, still make questionable decisions, and still feel a bit ‘lost’.

I started typing out a list of things I feel lost about, but I just deleted them. Because I don’t need to have an answer to everything in my life. I’d really fucking like to. I read a quote somewhere expressing, ‘No one has everything figured out’. I can’t even figure out who stated that damn quote. Touche’ to my lituation. 

I haven’t written in a long time. There’s a lot I’d like to learn about writing. But I’m not writing to sound eloquent and scholarly. I’m writing because I have a lot to say, and I think some of my experiences are extremely easy to relate to. And if you can’t relate, maybe you’ll be able to gain some sort of understanding.

This is my public journal and it’s going to be used to post insight on things I enjoy, products I like, clothes, food, music, books, netflix, culture, vintage, style, fashion, makeup, skin care, vape lyfe, recovery, money, sexuality, diy, society, mental illness, and design. I know if nothing else, I’m providing myself a place for solace and self expression.

I hope you happen to come across this entry, or my future posts, and don’t hesitate to offer acknowledgment, feedback, questions, or answers will be greatly appreciated. That’s an understatement.

Sincerely ya gurl,

Jodi B

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Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.

Henry David Thoreau, Walden (via books-n-quotes)

#this #firstreblog