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Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Wish you were here... (part one of infinite)

Title taken from the old Pink Floyd song. It was one of the first songs I heard when she passed and also one of the first songs that made me feel so alone. (I'm crying just writing this, so I apologize in advance for the words.)

I'm not sure what the songwriter was feeling at the time, but I know what that song means to me now... Loving and losing is the hardest battle. Sometimes I wish I was incapable of love and became this cold-hearted wretch. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depends on the circumstance) over-loving, over-thinking, and over-working are just part of my banal existence.

On Christmas Eve, I was driving to work, this song came on the radio after I dropped my dad off at the bus stop. I wasn't listening to Christmas music, to be frank, I just wasn't feeling the spirit this particular year. Completely and utterly lost it. Tears started to pervade every pore and pooled up just on the top of my cheeks.

I lost it. I lost this sensation to live. I want out so bad... Plus at the place I work there's a lot of hazards and so it wouldn't be that hard. Just think of when a game glitches and you're stuck only being able to jump up, but you get no where. You're unable to move forward, backwards, or to either side. I can only imagine what it feels to be a tightly wound message in a bottle, stuck floating in the ocean. This is how I feel, plateaued, restless, and not at peace. Regardless, I posted a photo on snapchat showing some stupid vulnerable side that was sort of a cry for help by the same token.

side note: My aussie grandmother that passed away this year was a very tough, strong woman. She certainly passed those genes onto me. Both a blessing and a curse. Showing vulnerability is not in my cards. It's not something I tend to do, despite being the most insecure and emotional "softie" internally. Such an internal power-struggle. I fight with myself every day, filtering out a lot of things especially toward friends. I want to fix my problems before anyone has the chance to know what happened. Also, very stubborn. Helping people is easy, helping yourself... not so.

Anyway, a beautiful soul reached out and I completely blew him off. I rattled some pretty hurtful things (of course, in retrospect) because there was still some pent up feelings towards this person that I don't want to delve into. Also, it's what I've been feeling since Riot Fest. You sort of start seeing your "friends" true colors and unsure of where you stand with people. A lot of unnecessary and unresolved drama happened. I should have seen red flags all over that plus all over my birthday and other situations. I'm keeping this part of my breakdown vague because there are multiple people involved. I should put my perspective out in the open and start the 2016 year on a different foot but, alas, no cigar.

I also lost a few individuals in my life this year:

1) My grandfather for all intents and purposes (see Catharsis in death)
2) My Aussie grandmother
3) My "grandfather"- when I first moved out here to the states, my neighbors were this elderly couple, she taught me piano and he was this wonderful beagle-loving human being. Such a kind soul.
4) ___________________________ this one I don't want to talk about. It's way too painful.
5) My beautiful Aussie Shepherd, Sydney
6) Gus- so heartbroken to this day.
7) Frankie
8) Perry- traumatic, happened on Christmas Eve that further spiraled me.
9) My bearded dragon, Nullah.
10+11) two juvenile penguins.

Going back to this conversation, this beautiful soul dished it back to me, he told me that people cared. It's still something I have a hard time believing, namely because every time I try to express my feelings or anything, it really feels like no one gives a shit or are so used to giving me advice. I'm so used to never being listened to. Actually being listened to, not talking back or giving judgments. I'm always shut down by family and friends, being told my feelings are irrational, wrong, or stupid.

This is, in part, why my dog was not "just a dog". I'd have these fits and she'd come up to me, rest her head on my right side (which is why I got the tattoo on my right side, in that place). I'd stroke her fur, cry into her shoulder, hug her close. Everything would just divulge profusely. At the end of it all, I'd know what the solution to the problem was, because I had vocalized the troubles. You just can't do that with people. All of it goes in one ear, out the next or little snippets end up gossiped about or judged.

Another facet to losing her was this sense of identity. At the age of 10.5, I was uprooted from Australia to come to the states for better familial opportunities. It was also the same year as the Olympic Games to which the love of my life was participating. I also had family out there which we would visit every 3 years (except 2009 + 2012). Getting Syd 4 years later was a sense of retaining that cultural identity. An Australian Shepherd with an Australian name. Maybe it was a crutch up until this point? I don't know, but losing her and losing my grandparents (the family we had out there), seems like an end of an era. It's a transition phase. My parents are selling my grandmother's house. They already sold their house down there. It's like the cords are being cut... I feel like my sense of home is lost. At the rate I feel with being in the states, it's not home. My dog was my home and wherever she was, that was home. Now it just feels like mere existence and not living.

Okay... bear with me... this is just one part and I'm triggered right now, so this is going to stop until I can get my bearings and trudge through the rest of this cathartic intention.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015


Can't believe another year is slipping by like sand through your fingers at the beach. 

Must say, definitely not feeling the cheer. It's hard to say considering this is one of my favorite holidays and I'm usually pretty charitable this time of year, donating every year to my friend's fave charities on their behalf and whatnot. Something just doesn't feel right. I simply don't care. It'll be great when this holiday season is over. This negative attitude will hopefully dissipate. 

What makes this year different is the series of events that served as a precursor. Most of all I'm depressed I don't get to be with my dog. Going to Petsmart has been a chore- I see toys and her fave items with which I would have spoiled her. A couple of my friends have Aussie Shepherds and I see photos online and it just triggers my sadness and anger.

I'm angry at the fact that fate had to take away my best friend. It's been hurtful that everyone with whom I share Syd's story says "oh it's just a dog".... NO! She's more than a dog, she was my emotional support. I'm not the person I was prior to October 3rd. I don't have anyone to share my stories with, that actually care. There are thoughts from back in 2013 that are coming back. I hate living without her. It's so unfair. 

My sister in law and aunt are in town and I love them both dearly. But, I'm not in an emotionally stable place to enjoy anyone's company. My birds at work have alleviated any stress but what is being masked? Something isn't sitting right... 

Friday, December 11, 2015

Unsure... With a shot of extra strength.

I’m sitting here in the window seat of the exit row, infuriated because of the people sitting next to me talking about their life stories  (you know the loud ones that think they’re the only people in an airplane) and,  also,  that it’s the end of an interesting trip. These past few weeks have been interesting in general. I have done a lot of growing up but, more importantly, searched into that introspective being. She’s back and with a vengeance. Despite everything going on in life, I find a way to run away from it all, gain clarity and then come back with a better perspective. Unfortunately, this trip wasn’t exactly that. I feel, in part, that my brain -  which has been belaboring a particular situation right now- made me overthink and fall into solitude. There are so many beautiful souls in my life but one stabbed whatever half of my heart I have left. I have a hard time writing about people in my life just because staining character on a public domain isn’t exactly “adult”. It tells an inaccurate description of that person through the lense of anger and fear. Our own biases clout our judgement and others, of whom we tell, we influence. I’m growing ever so resentful of this person simply because of misunderstanding or overthinking of what the word “Intimidation” means. It’s not so much being resentful but rather having the final straw. This isn’t the first time I have been told this and, quite frankly, it won’t be the last… never the less, there’s a persistent sting. 

I hate being strong… There are times I wish I could crawl into a ball and cry and cry and cry with someone holding me whilst in this position. I just have a natural inclination to push people away, sort out whatever it is and then move on. Needless to say, this culmination of feelings is ruining me. It not only has to do with that personal friendship but a past relationship and multiple deaths/family health scares since September. Everything has snowballed and it’s breaking me. Woe is me, not the intention of this post but it would be nice to have someone telling me it’s all okay and to just hug it out. 

What does it mean when a person tells you that you’re fairly intimidating? 

This started a new train of thought that I can’t quite shake as far as insecurities. I was a bold and outspoken chick who called people out and did whatever she wanted without anyone telling her otherwise. Things changed and what’s terrifying is, I don’t know when or how. I sit around contemplating life and the people in my life and question their motivations and it sullies my whole day. Then it starts getting to the point where I get myself so anxious, worked up and it turns to a series of gag reflexes (probably shouldn’t be saying that, knowing the connotation) or, in extreme cases, vomit. I’ve been told by my doctors to calm down and relax but nothing seems to help. Self-medicating became a vice- alcohol and muscle relaxers. I’ve done a lot of things this summer and fall that I regret. I suppose it’s all part of the human experience. Been experiencing nightmares such as seeing my dead grandmother (see previous post for September) and waking up crying hysterically. It seems like a bad omen. There’s something in the air that’s not sitting quite right. 

It’s times like these where running up to the mountains with my dog would have been the therapy I needed. Gosh, she was a great dog. So understanding, beautiful, and the better half of my existence. I miss her so much and there are times (now, especially) where I wish I was wherever she is. Always keep one foot in the grave. She still hasn’t visited me in my dreams and, yet, she’s come to my brother and mum. As much as it was the right thing to do, I feel I did her wrong by ending her life so soon. She was in pain and I didn’t know how long she’d been like that. What’s done is done. 

Black Friday, also, has a negative impact on my life as 2 years ago my other Grandmother, Virginia, passed away from a rare neuroendocrine cancer. I loved her so much but resented her for occupying my mother’s time in her later years. So selfish on my behalf. I’ve been to so many fortune tellers, psychics, and hanging around other people and they always say there’s Virginia. They can sense her presence around me but I have a hard time believing she would be looking out for me. My wonderful “aunt” who is an astrological reader said that an Aquarian is my life coach/guardian angel, which is fitting considering Virginia’s an Aquarius.

I feel like the volcano in Iceland… bubbling up with pressure. Mostly self-imposed, some influenced by simple phrases, traditions, or words… Between these little thought blips. Work and school have been amazing get-aways but I can’t seem to focus because of these thoughts and constantly feeling like everything I do… is wrong. Everything always seems to be my fault simply because of lack of patience, lack of rest, lack of joy and lack of that passion that once was. Just been going through the motions and waiting for that chance to erupt.