#cant believe i will have the chance to graduate in a few months......if i fail the exam in summer and have to try again in fall i will cry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

topicprinter · 5 years

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So I typed this out and it ended up being very long winded. I'm just trying to create an accurate picture of why im feeling absolutely stuck. Tldr is I put it all on black after feeling the game was rigged and it turns out there wasnt ever any black.I had a sense this was coming, but the power got shut off this morning and that's it. It's not really official, very unlikely chance I could open back up. I'm telling customers we are having electrical issues, we'll get back to them in a few days, but most replied, thanks and good luck... I've been open with the employees about what's going on. I was mostly a side hustle for them.I took over a family business after I graduated college, the recession started, but this before anyone knew that, just I couldn't find a job. Probably will be a few months. So a resume booster. The business was going under any day. I managed to slash costs, and started to increase revenue. It was still losing money, but it was managable. The general agreement was I'd be working for free, dad would pay down his debt, I'm effectively buying the place from him even though it was already understood I'd inherit it, and he'd give me the money I need to fix it up after he got his finances in order.At the end of the day, the issue is, the place looks run down. Our customers like that, but we tapped the entire market and it's not enough people. A lot of leads, if I converted 5% over the years, I would've been good, but same thing, place is gross / " dirty" / run down.Dad refused, he doesnt see how aesthetics matter, another one of his businesses closed for the same reason. He was also born dirt poor in a 3rd world country and he actually likes how the place looks.A few years ago, it suddenly was no longer my business. Older customers who didnt want more people and hated the changes, started complaining I didn't know what I was doing. The college campus expanded into our area and I was focused on them and young professionals.... He hired consultants and they all agreed I know exactly what to do and the place is going to fail otherwise. He said they were scams. Started yelling at me for not shutting off lights the second someone was no longer in the room. That would've maybe saved $50 a month and he wanted me to hire someone else to do just that. That's " when he realized I was wasteful and spoiled brat." Seriosuly, it's a 40k square foot facility. I just cant physically do that. No one could and also do their primary job.He started buying equipment for a new business he was starting, but it was going to take 10 years to purchase all the equipment. I was like wtf, 30k is all I need and I'm sitting here waiting for it. I tried things I thought were wrong in food faith and they were wrong. He said he would only give me the money after I'm profitable.....So I got the hint, got my mba, gave him my last semesters tuition due to an emergency. I asked for the money back and he said no. He's given 20x the amount to charity. I ended up going into collections and my credit score is in the 400s. Student loan debt is approaching 200k since that interest is accumulating. Cant prove I've been to college since my transcripts are locked until I pay my tuition. That's been my brick wall everytime I apply for a job.He asked me if I'd hire someone who really needs money. I started flipping out on him. Later on, he told me he was in collections and that was dishonorable. I totally lost it on him. The result is he claims I've been paid over the last 12 years, even though I wasnt. That he paid for my college and he never took money from me....there is nothing more shameful than a father taking money from his son to pay his bills and I'm just being " nasty" by claiming he did. I'm also disrespectful for flipping out. I guess besides him thinking if he ever listened to his son, hes a failure, he was trying to teach me a lesson for all that he's done for me and I wasn't appreciative..... up to this point I was oblivious that he was a narcissist and believes I'm his property.3 of my cousins started yelling at me because he's a great guy, he paid for them to go to college. They refused to believe he didnt pay for me or my brother.Word around town is I'm an idiot since the business is a goldmine, if I just made it look nicer.... Other people think I'm dumb because I tried to get more customers or wasnt appealing to them. The median household income of my city is 22k and that's my annual property tax, the average joe doesn't fathom the cost of operations. Either I had no authority, no money, or they were wrong.... my nearest competitor had 40x the customer base in an equal size facility and charged 2x.My bro is an issue. He's mentally ill. The plan was to make the business profitable and then sell it. Put half in a trust for my bro and have him live with me. Within 5 years of living on his own, I'm pretty sure he will be dead. He would never hurt anyone, but has been arrested a few times for making threats. Doesnt drink, doesn't use drugs. My dad refused to get him help when he was younger since mental illness brings shame to your family or something like that, and I was an asshole for saying he had mental health problems. Now my dad finally sees he does, but now my bro is refusing help. I dont know how I could start a family and help him at this point.So locally, I doubt I could find a job due to my reputation. I'm sorta on the outs with my family. I've been working 100 hr weeks for the past 10 years, so I dont really have friends anymore. I still have the transcript issue and I'm not sure how many landlords would rent to a sub 500 credit score in an area where you could feel safe. Almost 250 k in total debt with zero assets and I'm 35. Nothing in a retirement account. I'm not seeing the options right now ( I'm not suicidal by the way). Airforce still take recruits upto 39...although it is a bit late in life for that. My undergrad was in chemical engineering, so I think I have a decent shot. I can pass the fitness requirements. I was on a couple defense contractor type of startups that never went beyond sitting at a table discussing the plans. Thats what ultimately my goal was. Would probably help in those endeavours.I thought I should be at a point where my college education no longer mattered, but I guess working at the same place since graduating undergrad sets off alarms. Every job I applied to the application process stalled when I couldnt provide transcripts.I just do see a path for life. And I dont have to money to just move to a bigger city and see what I can get.

#/r/smallbusiness #reddit

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ves-abs-roq-pas-blog · 6 years

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The Last Four Months

Hi Ves!

Wow it’s been a long time since i’ve used that greeting! I just wanted to catch you up on the happenings and problems these past few months lol.

Back in June all the way until August, I was really happy here. I was still excited and I truly enjoyed moving here and the time I spent in Texas so far. It wasn’t until the end of August/early September when things started to get bad. It was when school started.

So i guess I have to take this back all the way to last February when I first decided to move. I was never actually sure of my decision-if it was the right one or not. I decided so quickly without really thinking much. The thing I never told anyone is that I kind of decided to move to run away from Jersey. I don’t know if you remember about this, but a while ago, around the same time I decided on Texas, I dropped my biophysics class and was really upset about it. Well, I guess that was one thing I ran away from. I was thinking about how it was so hard to face everyone after giving up like that. That class was also a requirement to graduate with a physics degree at Rutgers, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to face going back into that class again. I hated failing and instead of getting back up and trying again, I kind of just ran away. Around that time was also the time I started skipping out on going to MBC and going to different churches while lying to everyone saying I didn’t come home for the weekend. I really was not enjoying church and I wanted to switch churches really badly at that time but I kept thinking about how awkward it would be to move churches while still being in the same town as everyone. And praise and worship made me feel so fake. I wasn’t enjoying what I was doing and wasn’t in the right spirit and I was supposed to lead the congregation into worship when all I could think about was if I was playing the right chord and what Mel could possibly correct me on this time. And then I thought of how i switched my major to Physics and if that was the right decision. I let so many people (push, his friends, and my professor) sway my decision to switch, but I didn’t know if it was what I really wanted. So instead of staying and fixing all these problems, I was like “okay i’ll move to Texas, start new, and forget all these problems”

And for a while it was great, but when school started, I absolutely hated it. My friends from Rutgers were texting on our group chat about where to get lunch and I was really upset that I couldn’t be there with them anymore. And I hated all my classes. I missed my physics classes and my classmates and professors at Rutgers. I still to this day love Rutgers more than my school now and that’s my biggest regret was leaving behind that school. I was so unhappy with my school that it was so hard to focus on any of my schoolwork (plus i was working and i was running out of time ot devote to studying). I ended up failing my first exam. And by failing, i mean legit failing, I got a 62 on it, the worst grade I’ve gotten in college. I was freaking out about everything. I began freaking out about my future too because I was so unhappy at this school, but I was stuck here until graduation because it’s affordable, and they had a program where I could get my engineering degree here instead of transferring to a university. It made me really upset, especially when Cookie and I went to visit University of Houston. I fell in love with the school and Josh, Cookie, Dane (another friend we have here who already goes to that school), and I wanted to go to U of H all together and experience university and I was too scared to tell them that I don’t think I’d be a part of that. Community college sucks lol.

I wasn’t making any friends, I was doing so bad in school, and I wasn’t getting any opportunities here. One of my biggest “what if’s” was not taking the research position I was offered because I moved here. I was so scared that I would never get that opportunity again, and I think I proved myself right because I can’t land anything here.

Then it was time to get an apartment and move out of their house. Tita Donna was asking my mom when we were going to move out and it was really embarrassing because we really were trying, but it was so hard to find one that was in a safe area and I really started my bad anxiety during those 3 weeks. No matter what we did, we really couldn’t find an apartment. There was one that we got approved to and it was in such a sketchy place I couldn’t even sleep at night thinking of how I was going to live in that place. My brother works until 10 or 11 every night and I had no idea how I could be on my own in that scary neighborhood. It got to a point where everytime I thought about it, I would just start crying (even in class) because I was so scared. I really never felt fear that bad in my life. I didn’t want to stay in their house any longer because that was just rude, but I didn’t want to live in a place with crime and gangs, especially when it was an hour away from Josh’s house in case of emergency. All that plus school plus work and i just couldn’t breathe. Sometimes I couldn’t even get myself to go to class because my anxiety was so bad I didn’t even want to get out of bed and face the day. That only put me in a worse situation because it made me more behind on my schoolwork. And as all this was going on, I was trying to hide it from my parents because I didnt want them worrying about me because there was a lot going on with them at home (which also added to my issues but i wont go further into that bc thats my parent’s personal stuff lol).

I started feeling like I really made the wrong decision. I was panicking that I did the wrong thing and messed up God’s plan for me. I was freaking out and didnt know what to do and just wanted to start over and try again.I was seriously thinking about dropping all my classes and flying home without even telling my parents. I wanted to go home and take a break to think about what I was supposed to do next. Maybe go back to Rutgers and try again.

My mom called me one day and I couldnt hold it anymore and I just started crying and told her everything and asked to come home. She didn’t know what to do either lol. She didn’t want me to give up and come home. She and my dad told me that they were doubting it too and wanted me to come home but told me to just be strong and that they believed I could get through it. They were saying that doubt was holding me back from the blessings God has for me. They said that moving would be really hard but worth it because if i stayed behind in jersey, I’d be stuck and never learn how to trust God, take chances, and unlock all the blessings behind the door.

I was telling my mom about how I felt really guilty that they were paying my tuition and I was failing and how I might have to graduate late and all that. And I was scared of my mom getting mad at me because me graduating late was never an option. Last year, I was on track to graduate early and I’ve always been on that end of the spectrum, overachieving and all that and I was scared to tell her that it changed. They were okay with it though, they said that sometimes some circumstances are uncontrollable and if i cant graduate in time because of moving schools, it’s okay. It’s not the worst thing in the world and life goes on. They told me I could transfer to U of H after finishing my prereqs if school really makes me that unhappy. They said that it doesn’t matter how long it takes me, as long as I make my hard work and theirs worthwhile. We also found a really nice apartment near here (one finally approved our application thank God). And I’m doing a lot better now. It’s just sometimes I still get random panic attacks and feel kind of just frozen and don’t know what to do even if theres no reason behind it. Everything could be going just fine, but I still feel uneasy and anxious and I hate that.

I start my new job tomorrow and I’m trying to stay calm about it but it’s kind of making me anxious because it’s another new place with new people and what if I suck at it? I just can’t stop overthinking everything and thinking of the worst possible things that can happen in any situation. But I know it’s just my mind playing with me, everything is okay, it’s just hard to remember that sometimes.

Thanks for listening

Love, Abs

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somedaypast-thesunset · 7 years

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so he calls me and asks whats wrong. and i feel like this is trapping me because i cant express anything but by not expressing it it creates a cycle. i told him i didnt want to go to the park tomorrow. to me, i expected like an oh well whatever and i’d watch some videos and go to sleep.

but now he was starting into his shit again. and hes telling me its not okay im not referred to a psychologist and that the doctor is not enough. but its like.. he does not understand clinical depression. like he doesnt understand how far depression can affect every single thing in your life and to explain this is an excuse. like why didnt you do xx today, why did it take this long to do this, why do you nap so much etc. and its like.. im tired. im really tired of being alive. and you should be fucing grateful that im sitting here today talkng to you because everyday is a choice to be alive. i AM choosing to be here DESPITE everything that says i shouldnt. despite everything that makes it super hard.

but its all an excuse. its all “defeatist”. but its like.. i dont sit here and tell you word for word what ive spoken about or what has been said to me. the first few visits were in the understanding that i was clearly really really fucked up. like i believe the doctor believed that i was very close to commiting suicide but i was functioning at a level that i didnt need to be tipped over. like he had a real chance of helping someone in need and he jumped at the opportunity. and the trust had to be built - he asked me questions about my life and the history and we had to dicuss in depth my mother whom i have not spoken about in 7 years.

and like part of my problem is beating myself up. like .. wow i was such a shitty kid, i was a terrible daughter to my mother - i must have been the things she said i was and that must have contributed to the eath of my father so it must be my fault. do i “believe’ this? like reallyyyy believe it? no. cuz im not dumb. these people lived their own crazy lives. but this was my life for 25 years. TWENTY. FIVE. not like oh i had a break and was a drug addict for 7 yrs. no. all twenty five years, every damn day of my life was dedicated to these people. every. single day. my own mother tried to have the cops do something for me 4 months before she died because she knew that the relationship i had with my father was detrimental on like a next level.

but how do you turn away from a sick person? how do you do that? he said i should feel pride. i should feel like i had strength and look at it as positive. which is fine - it’s fine. but dont you see? dont you see i put in TEN YEARS of UNPAID WORK to have a man DIE? do you know what i got from the responsiblity to other people? to be on another persons schedule? to live another persons rules?

nothing. absolutely nothing. and ive seen “grown men” decide to stop working for months at a time because a job let them go for a reason they didnt agree with. like they got “fucked”. but i really got fucked. and yu now what thanks i got?

people like him telling me i didnt do anythhing but watch tv and smoke weed. youre right. i did. in between making meals and cleaning up blood and shit, i smoked weed and watched tv. that was my only fucking solace because i could not go away for longer than a night without serious concern for my father. but i smoked weed. and i watched tv. so that means i didnt “work hard”.

but the thing is - no one my age has been a full time caregiver. no one. not a single person can tell me what its like to be a caregiver or how i should feel or what the ‘right amount’ of work is. in reality - if you believe i smoked weed and watched movies and he was always “going to die anyways” then how much “work” did i do in the decade he wasnt dead? how did i manage an entire decade with a man hell bent on killing himself? tell me how i didnt “work”.

and im not into this argument anymore. i will not allow a single person on this earth to speak on my time with my father. not a single person knows ANYTHING about this time except me and my father and hes dead. and i cannot speak solely on it. thats just my word. so i will never argue about it. believe what the fuck you want because if you dont believe me theres not a damn thing that can be done to change your mind and i dont have to care becaue i know what i did i know the time i spent with him.

but he continued telling me he thinks i should be working and i should be trying harder. i am frustrated - how do i explain the massive concept of trauma and severe depression? do you not understand that “everyones” reaction is part of the problem and stigma of depression? this is why people are suffering in silence - well he goes to work but hes a sever alcoholic. he wants to die everyday but damnit he still goes to work.

and its like none of this at all in any capacity makes me feel different about the world aroun me. why do you want to die? why are you still working and wanting to die? whats the point? because youre ~not dead yet~? awsome. that really gets me going. that sparked the flame right back up inside of me. i cant believe i never thought of that - might as well do it because i’m not dead yet.

and you think its procrastination. that its inherent laziness. do you not think im procrastinating on suicide then? perhaps im just waiting it out? maybe im waiting for the final nail in the coffin; my last reason. either give me a reason to live or give me a reason to die but you know im in purgatory right now.

and thats part of the problem - i’m asking for a reason when i should make a reason. i create my own reason. and i know that. i have worked very very hrd to solidify the concept in my brain that i have to make my own reason - no one will provide a reason and more so its not okay to have someone provide it. because someone could die or leave and then what? you make your own. i made the mistake of putting my reason into a dieing man. and i waited far too long to pull back. even when i wanted to nothing was ever as important, nothing ever fulfilled my life and soul like knowing i was responsible for this person. i had a purpose to be here.

he continued. continued. continued. i finally broke down, “im sorry - you called me. i was sitting here a little sad about to wath fucking gta videos and go to sleep and probably wake up in a different mood. now youve called me and made me so upset that im now in a panic attack and sobbing and contemplating my self worth. how does this help me?”

“this is just my opinion. im allowed to express my opinion when youre life affects me.”

and he continued but continually tried to reiterate that he wasnt attacking me or my methods. it sounded more like frustration and inability to understand. like he was unwilling to accept that as a depressed person i struggled on my own to find a trust worthy doctor after having issues with doctors my whole life. then i allowed this person to help me but it wasnt like.. in the movies. this is not like fairytale romantic manic depressive pixie dream girl. like u loved me so hard i got this help and magically became amazing in 30 days and forgot all my troubles.

this is serious trauma. this is serious trauma that now that we are getting even older has become even more detrimental because i did not even realize how traumatic it was until i learned to be “apart of society”. by “being apart of society” it triggered dozens of things in past trauma that i did not even understand as being traumatized and thus had serious depression and anxiety about issues unrelated to people just being dead. its not like oh my parents are dead and im sooo sad. no. i have a very complex grief that spanned decades and to even expect me to remember what happened to lead me to the conclusions i have now immediately and just convey this to a professional and have them give me a once over and this is how to fix it is soooo naive.

this will be a very long process that involves more than doctors visits. he acknowledged i needed daily assistance to overcome my issues and that my own isolation for so long has prolonger and increased social issues that im not getting around on my own. he told me i needed to “grow up”. i told him i agreed. i said it was very frustrating to be me and know that this was fucked up and still be doing it because i didnt have the tools beyond myself to figure out how to “grow up”. like this is all trial and error for me. no one held my hand and protected me and patted my ass when i came home strung out and fucked up. no one sat me down and told me to put a smile on. i was not in any way shape or form parented by anyone. i have never had a parent. i have been completely independent and have thought indepndently for as long as i can remember. i have always dealt with my issues on my own and have had to care for someone for ten years starting as a teenager. in those ten years i never failed to pay a bill or do something i was supposed to do.

okay. so this is just me. and i would love to have a parent. i would love to have someone who knows more than me around. someone who gives a shit. but i dont. so its just me. and whatever i think is right which has been convoluted by a dieing man and mentally ill woman. thats my foundation. so im sorry if im not a fucing university graduate building a 401k driving a car with my own house. im sorry. u know im sorry im not even a fucing fast food mcdonalds employee highschool graduate with 10$ in a savings account and money on a bus card.

but bitch. i’m still here. i’m mad as hell and i’m still fucking here. thats literally the greatest accomplishment for me on a daily basis. its my biggest accomplishment and greatest anxiety. im still here.

i told him again - all of this was making it worse. the real issue i had was having no one to talk to at all. no one wanted to listen to me. everyone wants to tell me what to do or how i should think or some negative opinion because theyre envious that i get ‘free money’.

and the doctor had to convince me to get disability. i told him the people around me felt i could work. he said he did not believe in any way i was capable of holding a job right now and listed a number of reasons why he believed i couldnt, most having to due with symptoms of sever depression. in a switch side, if i listed these reasons i would be told theyre merely excuses by other people and that “they were tired too”. which is why he had to reiterate a number of times to fuck what other people thought. no one has to live my life but me. in reality its disgusting that people continually look down on or disrespect me outright for collecting benefits while they pity me for having issues. it’s hypocritical and bullshit.

finally he said that he wanted to see me do better and wanted to encourage me to find ways to cope with these times of serious depression. i told him that i do have ways to cope - but this is real life and its not always successful. but yet, i have been successful - i’ve not self harmed this year. not because it was “a fad” but because i actively choose not to do that to cope. this is a choice i make during every anxiety attack. this is a sign of strength i have this year i did not last year. so perhaps i spent four hours crying but i did not cut myself or attempt suicide so all i did was spend four hours crying. just so i could be alive right now. so who cares that i spent four hours crying lets be grateful im here now. who cares that it took five days to mail a letter - i mailed the letter. thats what matters. you dont even know that ive been given disability forms twice before that were NEVEr MAILED. fuck they werent even FILLED OUT. so not only did i get these forms, i had them filled out and then i MAILED tHEM. 100% BY MYSELF. my momy didnt help me. i didnt get any fucing drives to the doctor. nothing of this process was made easy in any fucking way. and i did it. so does it matter that ti took five days? absolutely not. even if it took five days, in 60 days do you think itll matter if im accepted? when i have those benefits, do you think itll matter i took 5 days to mail the thing? fuck no. because i mailed it and got the benefits

LET ME CRY. LET ME BE SAD. acknowledge i exist with this sadness!! do you not understand the pain of being ignored when you’re suffering!! i told him that i try to be a good listener for him - i let him speak about whatever he wants, whenver he wants in which ever way he wants to speak about it at the time; if he feels very angry and upset at something and expresses that, i dont later hold him to it and say “well u were angry about this before now ur not how come”. i said i never express my opinion because im a listener just listening so i acknowledge him and if i think hes doing something that is harmful to him i say something like “i dunno if thats a good idea” or “i wouldnt personally do that” or “thats gross” (usually used in context with an elaborate idea involving sex or drugs).

he paused and said that was true and i did do that. i told him i just wanted someone to listen to me. all i really needed to be “helped” was for someone to listen without any preconceived notions or opinions they wanted to put on me. just accept the words im saying and perhaps if possible express some empathy of some kind because they understood the sentence i put out in the world and maybe they can say something like “i bet this thing happening to you would cause this feeling.” to demonstrate that they understand the connection between an event and the reaction to the event and that i am not an insane weak dumb person for having an emotion. no one does this for me. no one. including him. and i believe at this moment he understood, finally, that no one does this for me. including him. tht i am a good listener, that i do not bring him down and allow him to be his own person until i think something is harmful and then i try to express to him my serious concern about his thoughts but not tell him hes a bad person for those thoughts. hes not lazy or stupid or evil. i tell him based on personal knowledge and experience why i think its harmful and rarely is it based just on a personal opinion. like i dont say dont do drugs cuz its bad. i say dont inject drugs, dont take drugs on a regular basis - all very valid safety concerns in the use of drugs. it is not “dont do drugs”. because i know that for something to matter to someone long term you have to create your own purpose. he cant not do drugs for me or any other person. he hs to not do drugs for himself. but i can encourage better use of drugs.

finally he apologized - an apology that has been maybe a year in the making. he said he realizes now that being aggressive and negative about things is not helping anything and that he should be encouraging about positive things in order to promote me actually recovering. he said he was “man enough” to admit that he was wrong and that this is something he should work on to better support me because he believed i was making an effort.

but it was a very good example of something that was small that couldve been handled differently that became a massive overwhelming issue. his bottom line was that i should see a psychologist. i told him i would tell my doctor that the person closest to me in my life is saying they believe i need more/additional help than whats being provided because they want to know the person im seeing to get help is specialized in helping people like me. thats totally fine request to make. im not going to argue that the doctor is “enough”. i dont know. maybe hes right. maybe i need to talk to even more people. but to tell me this on top of “blah balh you get welfare you smoke you nap all day etc.” is horrendous and backwards. should i see a psychologist to tell them what an asshole you are and that you probably cause alot of grief in my life?

like how my doctor thinks of you right now?

he couldve just said hey you know i can see youre trying but i want to suggest maybe asking your doctor to refer you to a psychologist again because i think itll be helpful for both of us.

like he wanted to help and was roadblocked by the fact that i had no coping mechanisms for him to bank on. so he was coming in blind and frustrated that he is not even normally capable of being a good “shoulder to cry on” and now he had no instructions but he still had a very sad girl to worry about. and this doctor didnt “give me” any coping mechanisms so what good is this doctor if he cant “fix” the issue he has to deal with now.

but there is no coping mechanism. theres no like “turn on this song and ill be okay”. theres a variety of things i can try to do, not all of them will work, but one will. one will bsolutely because if one does not, ill be dead. one is always going to work even if the one is time. just waiting it out and battlign it in some meditative state. but one will work.

like he disregarded alot of reasons for what i do as like some general thing i just “like”. like some random thing in my head that makes me like it. and im obsessed with watching specific gamers on youtube. i do not play video games. like i have almost no interest in video games. i dont care who the fuck wins. i dont care about the mechanics of a game. i will watch the most boring ass games like a shitty flash game or a fucing terrible job simulator that is just the most complicated system of buttons and bullshit to move a fucing tractor and i would never even remotely consider even trying to play the game let alone download it or install it.

but here i am. hours a day. watching games i will never play by men i will never meet. and i trid to explain this - its “sad” to you that im going to go watch these things. but to me its like.. a graduated version of something that can be simplified with penny lane’s quote, “if you ever get lonely you just go to the record store and say hi to your friends”. like ive always held the idea that music and sound is a constant familiar. so i have specific sounds - much like people have specfic smells or tastes. as a kid my fathers keys jingled in his pockeet and i could hear this jingle from anywhere in the store. like my ears trained to it because i feared getting lost but if i could hear it i knew i was okay. a bit older i grabbed on to all my favourite bands but what i found was after years of doing things, familiarity felt like visitng a grave. like nothing changed. it was so familiar it was stale, it was a nostalgic memory i was visitng and not being embraced by a warm hug. many of my favourite bands broke up and stopped releasing new music.

i told him that the sound of these mens voices was calming. like i had alot of isolation and listening to music or whatever didnt seem real. but here are these real life people who have their own things they do and that happen to them and everyday they pop up and talk about nothing. NOTHING> they come and be like “hey so today we’re going to build a room” or “so today we’re going to race this virtual car” and nothing in the game matters and like people get “mad” but no one is mad. because nothing in the game matters. you die, you come back.

and like the attitude of these people helps. like “damn im in last place today BUT ILL GET YOU” because nothing in the game matters. or maybe you feel invested in some grand feat theyre trying and they dont get it and theyre like ah shit well gotta keep trying. so ive focused on specific gamers who rarely are offensive or loud or otherwise unwatchable.

but he brushed it off a bit, “yeah, yeah, its someone with a comforting voice” but the tone of his voice hinted at jealousy; like why wasnt it him? why couldnt he just play a video game and make commentary and ill feel better? why does it have to be these guys?

and maybe because i dont know them? they will (potentially) never do me wrong. maybe one day they’ll stop recording. theres a small chance theyll say something super offensive or racist. but i mean theyre never going to personally attack me. theyre never going to point me out and say this girl is fucked. i can be their friend without being their friend. i get to be apart of inside jokes and funny conversations but never actually apart of it. i get to feel like i’m not alone while being terribly alone. and i dont think im necessarily choosing this above other things to cope - i think it’s what i’m “making due with”. i found something and it takes such little effort.

im honestly at a point where i am waiting. my current perspective on life is that people are absolute fucking pieces of shit who have little regard for anyone but themselves or their own kind. however there are 7 billion people on the planet and it would be “racist” so say “all humans” are pieces of shit. so like.. a lare majority of humans are pieces of shit and there are a few who are actually good souls but when you have 7 billion ppl and like 100,000 are good - who the fuck cares? thats like a drop in the bucket. to act in the world as though you are encountering those 100,000 ppl on a daily basis is a set up for failure and thus how it creates the cycle of 7 billion pieces of shit because “self preservation”.

from what i have honestly seen of the world - fuck the world. hands down 100% i have absolutely no desire what so ever to participate in society. i have experienced some terrible shit and i have seen and heard some even worse terrible shit and the positive DOES NOT outweigh the negative at all in anyway. the only reason people care about me in any way right now is because i am considered a “burden” to them by having issues. i dont want my issues. i hope i recover and become a mentally sound and healthy individual. because i do not in any way want to be involved with people on a whole. like if i can afford to live alone and buy my own food and not struggle as i have been - i’m done. i’m sorry. i’m waiting to leave society. i realized how disgusting people are and have lowered myself to using them when i can for like the very basic theyre willing to do (despite what i put out i never get remotely the same in return) and when i am capable of supporting myself i honest to god dont thin ill do half or more of the things i do now “for people”. thats the thing - i’m now waiting to isolate myself further because the experience ive had says there is nothing there for me. if i want to live, ill be living alone, secluded and isolated.

because honestly? im not fucing with a single person who did not fuck with me during this time. fuck. you. you let me struggle and suffer alone and youre soooooo happy im on benefits now? no. youre not. youre more than likely going behind my back and talking shit about it anyways but you think im “cool” or “talented” so you’d like to be associated with me. but you dont want any of the “drama” or “baggage” so youre not even really a fucing friend.

the only thing keeping me going right now is the idea that maybe before the end of the year, i wont have to do _this_ anymore. ill get my own place, have my own food, live my own life and i fucking deserve it no matter how much the pieces of shit cry about it and how they dont get it because i dont “get” half the shit they do in their lives and never have. the pieces of shit will always be pieces of shit and they will never stand to see someone have something they dont.

i learned about myself that i like to cook. i like buying ingrediens for food and trying new recipes and i can do that alone. i can just eat nice food on my own. i like to play guitar but i like to play for myself not to share music. i dont get anythng from sharing. its a totally personal experience just for me. and not having the space to be alone to play guitar is depressing. i like animals. i want to learn to travel by myself. i have literally never gone anywhere by myself. LITERLLY. LIT.ER.ALLY. i have never gotten on a bus to another city and been in that city by myself. just like.. existed in the city by myself. NEVER. but i cannot learn this if i cannot travel and i cannot travel without some sort of purpose behind it. i want to go back to making art for me not because im the artist who makes art. i saw a movie by myself for the first time ever last week.

it took 10 yrs to have experiences that 18 yr olds do. im not “living like a teenager”. its that i NEVER LIVED AS A TEENAGER to be able to become an adult. and now that i am an adult i cannot make teenage mistakes.

and thus we give the highest of praise to the singular best accomplishment of my whole life:

not pregnant. do not have kids. not a drug addict. not an alcoholic.

do you understand at all the HIGHEST OF CHANCES i had to have children? i was a naive girl with no parental supervision, no outlet for myself, super emotional & depressed.

then he tells me, “you know, learn from your parents”.

bitch i did. my mother was 25 years old when she met my old ass father and MARRIED HIM ONE WEEK AFTER. did i do this? she did this KNOWING he had little to no feeling of love for her. this bitch had been abandoned and fucked with by her family sooo much she was like the only way out is with this guy and she grabbed on to him and NEVER FUCKING LEFT.

so bitch.

i did.

im 27 yrs old. youre 26 yrs old. i live on my own. you live at home. ive never been pregnant. ive never been married. yep - my mother and i did not “work”. that is a serious flaw we shared. she also never acknowledge the SERIOUS MENTAL ILLNESS SHE HAD WHICH LITERALLY ALMOST KILLED ME NOT LIKE FIGURATIVELY BUT LITERALLY ALMOST KILLED ME AND I DID NOT EVEN HAVE THE WHEREIWTHAL TO KNOW IT HWAS HAPPENING

so i did. i did learn from my parents. my father told me people are fucking terrible and they are. i learned. in fact i did not. i did not learn. i lived in a naivety that people are good. and people want to hear me sy people are good because god forbid they be considered shit but lbr.. you’re probably terrible. i’m pretty terrible. i am totally in limbo where i have like 6 months to a yr before this becomes “my fault”.

so youre right. i am waiting. im waiting to see what independence looks like and whether or not i’d fuck with people like this. and like all i can say is im glad it took 12 months to realize that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. i did thank him. might as well put my own shit into practice - it doesn matter it took 12 months bcause he is admitting it now. and it makes me feel a bit better but at the same time i feel like an obvious statement is if you had known this even 6 months ago, how much better off might i be now? if the closest person to me in life was a positive rather than a negative, how much better would i be now? take some fucing responsibility for the fct that not only do i have to fight myself, but i have to fight through the negativity people like him put on me and decide despite what they aid to stay alive. not like feel a desire to want to because they reminded me of all the good things. i have to fight and be angry and create alot of bitterness towards them and live in spite. thats not fair. and life might be “unfair” and i “choose” to stay aroun someone who has consistently made things sooo bad but my god take 1 second to see it from my side. imagine if i had 6 months of positive reinforcement from the closest person in my life and a professional. i wouldnt have had the second hospital visit. i’d really be in a much better place than i am right now and its SUPER unfair to hold it against me that he cause damaged i had to fix before i could even focus on my actual issues. he held me bac and i allowed him to hold me back and prolong this process. im not even going to blame him like an excuse. i allowed him to hold me back. maybe i allowed it so i would have an excuse. if he tells me all the negative things i think about myself then its like reiterating that what i think is right. it deepens the depression.

but honestly having someone in his position - where he was very much becoming a second coming of my terrible parents, suddenly apologize and admit they were wrong is actually okay. that actually helps my life a bit. for a long time i wanted this from my mother.

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life2bedetermined-blog · 7 years

Text

Failure is not an option.

When I say that I don’t mean that I don’t believe I can fail. I know now that when making your way through life and especially when embarking on a new journey, you’re going to stumble and fall plenty of times before you succeed. It’s part of the process. What I am now determined to do is continue getting back up and pushing forward. I can’t keep quitting at everything I do.

With that being said, I needed some time to regroup after that interaction on Thursday. I still can’t believe the way Danny spoke to me about the networking event. I did everything in my power to make it to the event. I had an excruciatingly painful conversation with my father because I broke down and asked him to borrow some money. As per usual we dragged my whole history through the mud and after plenty of tears and yelling, he cut me a check for $300, not letting me forget about the “loan” note written on the bottom. I was appreciative and I didn’t want him to change his mind, so I stuck through it. And vowed to myself, AGAIN, that I wouldn’t let things get this bad again. I had to work myself into the ground to fix my finances and I was ready to do it. So even though I had already sent Danny a text that day about not being able to make it to the real estate networking event the following night, I decided that with some cash in my hand I could make it happen. And made a mental note to text him in the morning to let him know I would be there.

The next day I got up early. I got Josiah to school on time and I made sure to already be dressed and made up so that I could start driving Uber early. I was going to pick Josiah up directly from school later so I had to be back by 2:15 the latest. I drove for a couple of hours, stopped for gas, continued, went to cash my check so that I could pay off a few small debts and then if I still had time I would keep driving until 2.

I made it back on time, made sure to refresh my face so that I could head back to the salon after picking up Josiah to finish my manicure. I couldn’t go to my first networking event with terrible nails.

After all my errands, I ended up leaving my house around 5. I figured since I was going in the opposite direction of traffic, I should be arriving by the latest 6:15. I had already let Cheryl know I was on the way. So I loaded Josiah back in to the car, and since we already stopped and got us something to eat after I got him from school, I just headed into the city. I realized that the traffic was heavier than I had expected by the time I got on the highway, but somehow I still ended up at the daycare by 3 minutes before 6. I figured, Sandy Springs to Buckhead wasn’t that far, and when I pulled up my destination on Google Maps, at first it said 20 minutes. But after another couple of seconds of loading, that number changed from 20 to 45. And I had to brace myself because after all of that effort, I had to accept that I was still going to be certifiably late. But I had already come this far. Josiah was already dropped off, even if I didnt stay long I had to make it down to this venue, even if it was just to show my face. So I cut on some music and started on my way.

The traffic was infuriating. My anxiety levels were through the roof but I was more determined than ever to keep it together. I had to learn how to succeed in this new industry I had chosen, I had no room for a backup option anymore.

I felt like I had everything with me: my business cards, a pen, something to write on if I needed to take down someone’s information. My face was still done, I had already eaten. So my purse was just on the chair next to me. I finally arrived and saw the valets up front circling everyone around, I decided my car was a little too poor looking for valet today and I definitely didn’t have money to spare for a tip later, so I decided to go to the self parking section in the back. I took a deep breath and grabbed my things, and headed into the restaurant. I sent Danny a quick text letting him know I was there and hoped to God I wouldn’t have to pay the cover charge just because I was late.

I got in pretty easily and started walking around. I was super nervous, I had never done anything like this before. I’m pretty sure anyone who looked at me saw a deer in headlights. I waved to a few people and started looking around hoping to find someone in my team to get some kind of direction.

I decided to go to the bar. I needed a buffer, something to hold in my hand at least to make me not look so nervous. I was also hoping the liquor would ease my nerves a bit and make introducing myself to complete strangers a little bit easier.

I glanced at the menu for a bit and decided to go with a classic mojito. I didn’t know much about the bar scene so I wanted to be play it safe. As I started searching my purse for my wallet to pay for my drink, I realized it wasn’t there. So I immediately left the bar and went to my car, hoping to God that my wallet was in there.

I texted Joe, panicking, letting him know that I think I lost my wallet. And of course, it wasn’t in the car. So I sat there for a second, holding back tears as I thought about my next move.

I had to go back home. I know I didnt take my wallet out at the daycare because I didnt have to pay them until I got back. So the only other place it could be if it wasnt completely lost, was at my house, because I could have left it on the bed by accident when I was switching bags. I went back inside to hopefully find Denny or someone else on the team to let them know I had to go. Cheryl was calling me, so I frantically picked up as I headed back inside. “I’m right near the entrance here with Derron,” she said. I spotted her right away and walked in their direction. “Hey,” I said nervously, “ I’m so sorry but I just realized I lost my wallet on my way here, I’m going to have to leave.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a while? You just got here, didn’t you?” Cheryl looked at me like I was crazy. “No, I cant, I left my son in a childcare center in Sandy Springs and that’s an hour away. You know I live in Hiram, so I have to go all the way back home to see if my wallet is there as soon as possible because the longer I wait, the more I’ll have to pay the babysitter. And I’m low on cash, so if my wallet is lost I’m really screwed. I have to go sort this out before it gets too late. Tell Danny I’m sorry.”

“I will,” she said.

“Shit happens,” Derron said, “go make sure you take care of business.”

“Thanks guys,” I said as I walked away, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

I kept cursing at myself as I left. How could I make it all the way here without realizing I didn’t have my wallet. I needed things to start getting better and fast.

I figured Cheryl would let Danny know what happened, so I didn’t bother texting him right away. Saturday training was only two days away and if I needed to explain any further, I would do it then.

I called Joe and started rambling on and on about how frustrated I was, as I drove home in a panic.

As soon as I got in my apartment I started searching frantically for my wallet. It wasn’t on my bed, or in the kitchen, or in the living room. I sat down for a second on my bed to take a breather. If I really lost my wallet outside of my apartment, I would go nuts! I just borrowed money from my dad, what would it look like if I had to go back to him and say, “yea I spent half of that money on bills already but what I do have left I lost in my wallet and now I need help again.” Absolutely not. I would rather die. I had to start fighting back tears again because I was about to have a nervous breakdown. I stared at the floor and low and behold, there it was. My wallet was on the floor by the window. It must have flew out of my bag earlier when I grabbed everything in a rush. I let out a deep sigh and immediately texted Cheryl. “I found it, it was on the floor at home,” I texted. “Whew,” she said. Then I sent Joe an identical text letting him know I was now obligated to drive back to Sandy Springs to get Josiah, as it was now already 8:30pm.

As I made my way back into the city, driving a lot less frantic now, because of course there was less traffic, I thought about how I let this happen. I needed a moment to breathe. I couldn’t sit down and focus properly on doing everything Denny wants me to do to build a business, if I’m spending every waking moment, driving the streets of Atlanta, trying to collect every dollar so I can put food on the table. I wasn’t even succeeding at that; I hadnt gone actual grocery shopping in at least 3 weeks. I was drowning in my bills and I could no longer be too proud to admit that I was doubting my choice to do this. Maybe I would’ve been better off if I stayed at Coke, I thought to myself. I clearly couldn’t keep up with Denny and his millionaire friends.

I picked up Josiah and the price was 38 dollars. So between gas and babysitting, I ended up spending 50 bucks tonight for really nothing. I didn’t get a chance to mix and mingle with the movers and shakers in Atlanta Real Estate, and I spent more money I didn’t have, all to show my dedication to someone who had yet to pay me a dime in the 2 months I have been in business with him, I was tired. And I needed a break from reality. As I drove home on 285 West, I called Joe. I remembered he said he was going to a friend’s graduation party Friday night, and I was hoping I’d be able to tag along. At the very least, I could get some drinks in my system that wasn’t cheap wine from the alcohol aisle at Target.

“Sure you can come, I’m supposed to be heading there around 9. I’ll probably go straight from work, so you’ll have to meet me on the east side.”

“I’ll make it happen,” I said. “I need to get out of the house. I’m tired of doing the same things every weekend, especially when Josiah’s gone.”

“The more the merrier,” he said. And we continued talking as I got closer to my exit. I ended up having to stop for gas. All the driving I had done today caught up to me. So I pulled over, still on the phone with Joe, for gas. Josiah was knocked out in the back of the car, and I looked down at my phone to see what time it was. I got a text back from Denny.

“Really?? I didnt even see you?!”

I quickly texted back and explained what happened.

“Next time something like that happens, you come find me first! Got it??

“I definitely will,” I said, “I was able to find Cheryl and she said she would let you know what happened.” Denny didn’t text back after that.

I immediately told Joe what happened. I couldn’t understand why Denny was so upset, I did show up. I just didn’t expect to lose my wallet. I wasn’t gonna wait and see how Denny could help me when the longer I stayed there the more money I would have to pay the babysitter when I finally did find my wallet. And I couldn’t play with time because I was already limited on funds.

I was shocked. I was determined to clear things up with Denny on Saturday. I needed to know why he came at me like he had money riding on my success. Because if he did, I needed a cut. I’m suffering out here. Putting loads of wear and tear on my already-old car just so I can barely make ends meet. I can admit that I underestimated the time it could take me to make money starting out in this business and I was paying for it. I was hoping and praying for small deposits from Uber everyday just to get through the week, and I’m behind on all my bills. It would help immensely just to get $1,000 from Denny, and I know it wouldn’t hurt his pockets in the least. Not the way he talks so casually about spending tens of thousands of dollars on books. I just needed to work up the bravery to ask. Especially if he was clearly so emotionally invested in my success. What did I have to lose?

Tomorrow would be a better day. I needed to get my head together.

I went home, put Josiah to bed and went to sleep myself. I still wanted to start my day early to make up for lost time. Plus Josiah was spending the weekend with grandma so when I got home later I would have some time to think.

I dropped off Josiah in the morning at school, and went driving immediately after. I remembered I had to work on illustrations for Bobby, so I made a note to head home around lunch time, so I could knock those out before rush hour. I had to show Denny that I was trying my best. I couldn’t hint at him sliding me any money if I had nothing to show for it.

But I was so overwhelmed. As soon as I got home I knew I didn’t want to go right back out. I lit up and lied down for a while. I needed to let my mind rest

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