I Thought We Were Done

I’ve disappeared a little.  At least I feel that I have.  Sinking into the floor.  Sinking into my work.  Sinking into a life that I’m barely living.  So I think I’m ready to be done with this.

Next month I have an interview to get into grad school.  I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts lately and I realized that I really love stories.  Maybe that’s why I thought I would be a writer.  I’m not a writer.  Not anymore.  But I’m going to get my masters in counseling.  I can hear stories.  I can walk through stories with someone else, because I’ve learned that it’s really hard to walk through a hard story by yourself.

I’m looking for a house to move into next month.  My lease is up and I’m so ready to be done with the roommate life.  My things keep breaking or going missing.  Kind of like my heart.

My car is in the shop again.  For the same problem as before.  Because the mechanics missed something.  I’m learning that it’s better to go for quality over price, and even though I’m poor, I’m going back to taking my car to the dealer, just like I used to.

I don’t want life to be hard anymore.  I don’t want simple things to seem impossible.  I’m completely over this pointless depression.  I thought we were done with this a long time ago.


I have a confession

I have a confession.  I’m sometimes mean to aaa agents on the phone.  It’s definitely because my original agent messed up so bad and frustrates me so much.  I just found out that he registered my car as having 25,000 more miles on it than it did when I bought it.  So I have to fix that whole mess.  But maybe I’m mean to them because I work in customer service, and people are mean to me all day.  Maybe I’m a hypocrite.  Or maybe I’m just a horrible person.

I also have to confess that I don’t write like I used to.  I’m not as interesting.  Or I’m too busy.  Or maybe I just can’t write anymore.  I haven’t worked on my book, which doesn’t even exist anymore.  I hardly write poetry.  All my writing is complaining.   And I don’t complain that much anymore.  Or maybe it’s all I do.

Another confession.  I’m learning that it’d be significantly easier to find a new house to rent if I didn’t had a dog.  But I love my dog.  And having a dog is one of favorite new things about myself.  She’s basically my best friend.  And she has more personality and anxiety than most people.
I really want to fast forward to when I have my own house, where I can put my own touch.  And have more dogs.

I don’t love the rain as much as I used to.  It’s starting to inhibit more than rejuvenate.  Walking my dog, biking, driving.  It’s all more difficult.  But I still have a dream of living even more in the rain.  Portland still is a dream sometimes.

I have a confession.  I don’t hate Valentine’s Day like I once did.  But I don’t love it either.  But I do love Bobby.  I never knew love could be so easy.  I never knew love could be like this.  After more than a year, I still get excited about spending time with him.  He’s my best friend, if Roxy isn’t.  My best friend even likes him.  He has been approved for life.  I love him love him love him.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Because We Have to Prove We’re Right

Social media causes almost as much division as it does connectedness.  Maybe it causes more the more you’re on it.  Because I have a lot of “friends” on facebook who I really get along with in person, or I did at the time in my life when I knew them, but whenever they post their views online, they do it in a manner to tear one another down.  Today I saw a post by a “friend” that pointed out a bunch of “failures” that he is blaming solely on the democratic party, and basically said that you’re stupid if you’re a democrat because of this.  With that logic we could say the same about republicans, since our republican president seems to have just as many failures and scandals as the democratic party, uses twitter as his main source of communication, and had a “whose button is bigger” contest with the leader of North Korea.  So maybe you’re stupid if you’re a republican?

Or maybe not.  I’m neither a republican nor a democrat, my opinions live somewhere in between.  Both parties have serious downfalls, and both have good parts as well.  But calling someone out because of their political affiliation is about as annoying as not liking someone because they’re gay, or making comments about women belonging on the kitchen.

I’m just wondering why people feel the need to post about their opinions in a corrosive manner.  You can have whatever opinions you want.  You can even share these opinions, because that seems to be what social media has become about.  But putting down someone else whilst sharing this opinion just because you can?  What’s the point?  Oh right, it’s to be mean.  I think people are just too mean.  And I think I’m noticing it too much.

What really gets me is that that majority of these people, at least on my feed, are outspoken Christians.  And I thought Christ told his people to go out and make disciples. I thought we were supposed to multiply, not divide.

It’s probably because we all like to believe that we’re right.  And some of us have to prove that we’re right.   Even though not everyone cares.  And the thing that we think we’re “right” about the most is an opinion, and usually, opinions aren’t inherently right or wrong.  They’re not facts.  They have sides.

And I’m probably perpetuating the crises by writing this anyway.

Rant.  Over.

About Church

One thing that I realized last week is that I’ve always gone to church because I’ve always had connection there.

I grew up going to church because my parents took me to church every Sunday.  And I went to youth group because my friends went and I liked it and I felt like I was learning things.  I felt a connection to the living God.

When I was in college I went to church because I had to be serving in church at least two times a month for my degree.  You didn’t have a choice to opt out if you were in Bible college.  But I got to know my pastors.  And I enjoyed being a volunteer, even if it wasn’t the fun jobs that I was doing.  I liked the connection.  I liked the family that I had there.

After college, I moved to Mammoth and I started re-attending the Lighthouse, and I found real family.  But I first knew about the Lighthouse because I would visit with my brother all the time growing up and when I visited during college.  I had friends there.  I felt community there.  And I connected with God there.

I’m just wondering how to get that community and connection back.  I’m wondering where it is here.  When I first moved to Florence I immediately started attending a church, but my only friends in Florence were a part of this church.   After being there for more than a year, I felt less connected than when I first moved.  My newness wore off and it kinda seemed like I wasn’t good enough to be connected.  I wasn’t good enough to be involved.  None of the original connections I had there include me anymore.  Unless they see me in public.  Then they complain that we never hang out, but I can’t remember the last time I actually got an invitation to do anything.
I got a text from the pastor saying he missed hanging out with Bobby and I.  I said he could ask us to hang out any time, but I never got a response.

I feel like church is something that I’ve had forced into my life for so long that I’m not sure what is real and what is fake.  I miss community and I miss connection, but it has to be genuine.  It cannot be forced.  I’ve visited other churches, churches with small groups, but I don’t necessarily agree with their theology.

I’ve felt a little lost lately.  I don’t like feeling lost.  So I might be breaking up with church for a while.  I can pursue my relationship with God and learn what I need, because I’m obviously not going to find what I’m craving.

Sorry I complain so much.  Sorry I’m not elite.

New Year. New Flu.

I’m stealing my boyfriend’s joke.

The year was almost over and I decided to drive to Huntsville to visit a friend who I haven’t seen in forever.  She’s a teacher so I knew she would have the holidays off.  But on the way my clutch disappeared, so I didn’t get to see her.  I also got to put my car in the shop for a week.  And pay $1500 to fix it.

Then I got the flu, because it seems that it is trying to infect everyone in this freaking town.  I don’t think I’ve had the flu since I was 12.

Then Bobby got the flu.

And my hamster died (good riddance).

And I have nothing to write about.

So far this year I’ve just been trying to keep it together.  But that’s what life is, right?  There are twists and turns.  And I know that in a couple years I will look back and be thankful that I am out of this.

But I did sign up to take the MAT and next paycheck I’ll be submitting my grad school application.  So there’s that.


I used to be good at this.  At writing.  At collecting my thoughts and putting them somewhere.  And I feel like I don’t even have thoughts anymore.  I keep trying to be the person I used to be, but maybe it’s time to realize that I’m not.

I never became the person that I thought I would be.  But maybe I like the person that I am even better.  Even though I’m secluded.  Even though I never go to church because I haven’t found one that I belong at.  Even though I sometimes drink too much.  Even though I don’t write enough and I almost never touch my guitar.  I like cuddling my dog.  I like eating dinner with my boyfriend.  I like adventures, and most of my bad decisions aren’t bad at all.

I know that I’m probably always going to wish I had done life differently.  So maybe 2018 is going to be a year of acceptance.  Accepting that I am who I am because of the choices I made.  I am who I am because of who I love and who loves me.  I am who I am because I was created this way.

I’m going to try to take more time for myself this year.  I’m going to try to work on things when they’re still stirring.  I’m going to try going back to school and getting my masters in something that I actually care about, and maybe giving myself a new focus.

I’ll try not to disappear as much or for as long.

But I’m going to stop trying so hard.  I want to be more than content.  I want to be more than happy.

So here’s to 2018 I guess.

I hope my neighbors aren’t as loud this year.

Days Like Today

Sometimes I don’t feel like trying anymore.  I don’t want to get out of bed.  I don’t want to go to work.  I don’t want to have to deal with anyone here.  It’s days like these that I’m so tempted to quit everything, pack up my car, and move back home.  Because I know I’d be welcomed there with open arms.  I know I would be taken care of.  Simple things wouldn’t seem so damn hard.

I’m in a place where I feel that no matter what I do, I’m not good enough, not matter how I go about my tasks.  Nothing ever goes to plan, so what is the point in planning anything anyway?

I’ve known for a long time that depression tends to get worse around the holidays.  And I’m really feeling it.  I just want this month to be over.

I need time to reassess.  I need to move forward, not back.

I know that this won’t last forever.  I know that I’ve felt this before and been free of it.  I can and will be free again.  It just takes time.