It’s My Birthday Song, In My Happy World I Know It’s Gonna Be A Good Day Oh Yeah, Today Is My Birthday

I’m 32.

My birthday this year was what I’m assuming everything I should expect for my life from here on out. It was last Sunday, and I decided instead of wallow around at home for the day, I’d get out of the house and just basically try and forget I’m gonna be old and wrinkly and grey and alone soon.

I took the kids out to Denny’s (SUPER fancy I know) but I got breakfast for free and I’m trying to maintain a strict budget so this way we still had a nice sit down breakfast that I didn’t have to make and I didn’t have to clean up after. So to me, nowadays, that’s fancy. I should mention while we’re on the topic of fancy, Little E dressed up for me. He is a strict sweatpants and sports shirt kinda boy. Athletic wear all the way. So when I told them we were going out for breakfast for my birthday he pulled up in his one pair of jeans I make him keep in the depts of his drawers in case of like a funeral or something, and a collared dress shirt. I guess I’m raising him right after all. Z wears dresses 24/7 so it was just nice that she brushed her teeth for the ‘occasion’.

I came out of the bathroom after doing my makeup (for once) because if there’s any day to feel extra beautiful, I guess 32 years old is the day and the kids had made me little homemade cards ♥️. Adorable hey?

So anyway on the way to breakfast we stopped at one of the wineries that we live beside and took a few pictures because 1) it’s my birthday 2) who knows when I’d see Little E looking so sharp and it needed to be documented. Then off to breakfast.

Afterward we wandered the mall for a bit, I obviously got my free Starbucks to enjoy and we just browsed like 16 year old VSCO girls. While we were at the mall my oldest friend S called to wish me a happy birthday. S and I haven’t been tight during our adult life since our respective lives have taken us on our own paths but we’ve known each other since we were in grade 4, and we always come back to each other. It’s those friends that you have that no matter what, you can just pick up where you left off, trust levels the same, bonds not broken, you just know that yep your good for life no matter what shit happens. That’s S and I. And it’s so unlikely if you were to look at us, or even our lives. I’m a towering 5’10 overweight white girl and S is barely 5 foot and comes from a strict Asian home and has obtained a Masters Degree. She travels the world with both her family and her partner, and just basically…. is so different than me in every way. Which is great because then we at least have stories to share when get back together, it not the same stuff we’re struggling with, we have different experiences and view points, yet maintain respect for each other. Anyways chatting with her was good.

My little sister also called and I sang the itsy bitsy spider for my niece in the mall, which has become her billboard #1. My parents did FaceTime and I was expecting my dad at least to sing happy birthday as is was his tradition every year, so when I saw the name pop up on the phone I braced myself to be put through the song, but for some reason this year there was no song. He used to even call me in Kenya to sing, but this year no song. I guess 32 is finally the year when you’re to old to have your parents sing happy birthday to you. 👎🏼

My co-workers all forgot about my birthday which was fine and disappointing at the same time. I know that doesn’t make sense, but on one hand, you want to at least be acknowledged, but you don’t wanna stand there awkwardly while they sing to you. So fine/disappointing.

Anyways I guess the main point of this post is….

I’m 32. And I managed to not cry on my birthday. I realized that I’m going to have birthdays and get older weather certain people acknowledge it or not. I understand it is possible to have a birthday pass, a “celebration” of a year of my life, without receiving a single gift or intimate hug or a bite of cake. Those things don’t stop the passage of time. So I can just choose to age gracefully and with dignity based on the choices I’ve made in my own life, not on how others have chosen to pour into my life, or chosen to remain absent. Either way, I’m getting older. And as they say, age is just a number. You don’t become a year older in a day. It’s the whole years worth of experiences and wisdom and time that got you there.

It’s how much you value it that is most important, although just one gift would’ve made it a little more special, not gonna lie.


-Madonna/B-Day Song-

Shawty Said The Ni**a That She With Ain’t Shit / Call Me So I Can Come And Prove It To You

So bar boy came over again. Two weekends in a row. And you know what. It was nice. Really nice. His dick is still too big and that part is annoying, but the part of having someone in my bed holding me throughout the night and waking up to morning sex and the intimacy part where he is so considerate of what I need and how I respond to his touch… that part is what I’ve been missing for too long. Just good old fashion guy with girl beauty. In bed talking and touching and being with someone. I need that in my life so much. My love language is definitely touch and feel and to be alone for so long has been very draining on me on such a deep level. I thought I’d be ok just having my one night stands and getting what I needed that way, but that was ultimately more draining than fulfilling and probably let me worse off than before.

So I got in touch with army guy (I know I know to many guys) from a few summers back who I never actually slept with but for some reason we got along fairly well. At least well enough that I didn’t sleep with him (because our conversations were so good) that I told him straight up that I was in love with K and there was no way we’d end up together. I know I’m so messed up, if I have feelings for a guy I don’t sleep with them? I’m backwards. So anyways army guy and I have a 5 minute chat every 4-5 months just to keep in touch and so I asked him his opinion on the following since he’s a guy I can just be honest with.

How do you tell a dude his dick is to big, but you still wanna keep him around for everything else? C he said, if you tell a guy that, he’s not going to be offended, but he’s not going to want to come just to hold you and stroke your hair. You gotta learn how to take a dick.

Annnnnnd yet another reason I never slept with him, our conversations were honest, but he was an ass. Ok. For starters. I can take hella dick. It’s when it feels like it’s gonna break a rib or trying to give you CPR and restart your heart with each thrust that I have no interest in it anymore. I like sex to be pleasurable, not feel like I have to wiggle away each time he humps me because I’m feeling like it’s hitting a brick wall inside and going to break me.

The thing is, I don’t want to fault bar boy for being so well endowed and sweet. Like he texts me everyday to say good morning and ask me how I’m doing on top of the caring vibe I got from him while he was around. Don’t worry I’m not catching feelings. Like I have zero interest in this guy long term. He already told me he’s only in town until December, which is probably why I felt comfortable enough to have him around in the first place. I knew there were boundaries from the get go. I knew it wouldn’t have a catch to turn serious, so I felt safe. I told you I’m broke 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m not interested in getting attached to anyone anymore. I’ve been through enough heartache, but a girls gotta get her bed rocked WAY more often than I have been and as much as I fooled around with my toys every so often, it’s not the same for me and I don’t get the same enjoyment out of them as I do real sex. I like to be touched. I like to be tasted. I like to be pushed past my limits and I can’t do that to myself. I like to be kissed and held. Oh my god I like to be kissed. And held.

So here’s my lame dilemma. Do I risk telling him his dick is uncomfortably large, and have him stay away, losing out on the only enjoyable male companionship I’ve had in over a year? Or possibly yes I tell him and he decides that for the next few months he’d rather want my company with no sex but still everything else. Do you think he’d still stroke my hair until I fell asleep? Do you think he would sleep over and not expect sex. Or should I just keep it as is and awkwardly wiggle away each time he shoves his massively huge cock in my apparently small tight pussy, in order to keep the other benefits until December?

Like I said, it’s a lame dilemma, but a choice I need to make nonetheless.

So blogging word… recommendations?


-Lil Wayne/Lollipop-

Welcome To Existence Everyone’s Here / Everybody’s Watching You Now Everybody Waits For You Now What Happens Next?

Today an ad popped up on my Instagram about preparing wills.

This is something I have been purposefully avoiding my entire life.

Not because I’m afraid to die because of death and all that jazz, but because in my will, I will undoubtedly have to name a Guardian for my kids. And I have no one who I would name. At this point in my life there is not a single person or couple that I would want my kids to be raised by other than with me.

My parents are out of the question for many reasons, part being the strained relationship my mother and I currently have. But also, they’re old. I want my kids to have a fun fulfilling life and my parents don’t have it in them to be sitting at soccer practice once a week and dance recitals/school plays all the time. They’ve done the discipline thing (horribly) and I don’t want them (my parents or kids) to go through that ordeal. They are just not the right fit. Sure they’re fine for a visit here and there and I trust my kids with them for like a sleepover, maybe even a weekend or something although that’s never happened, but anything longer would just be to much of them. And I know what to much of them turns into. Been there done that got the postcard and all the bills from therapy type situation.

My older sister R has 4 daughters of her own and as much as I’m sure Z would love being surrounded by sisters (or hate having less attention focused on her) I would feel uncomfortable for Little E being put in a situation like that. Plus they are super strict and highly religious and I’m just not on the same page regarding their beliefs about god or many other things in life, and therefore wouldn’t want that for my two children.

My younger sister N just had her first child last summer. I will admit it has changed her attitude towards life for the better in my opinion. It’s not so much all about her anymore which is nice to see, but the way her and her husband D live is just chaotic. They both love my kids but they have no sense of organization or discipline and they struggle so much with finances that I just can’t add this kind of thing to their life. It would be a lose/lose situation for everyone.

And that’s it. Those were my choices. I thankfully have sole custody of my kids, and they are OBVIOUSLY not going back to E. But I have no friends that are close enough to even consider for the possibility. And you can’t prepare a will without having that plan ready to go to put into the will. Like what am I going to do? Write a will but say ‘ oh I’m not a responsible enough person to have decided who my kids are going to live with so just either let my family decide or make them wards of the state’? Cause that’s basically what I’d be doing so what’s the point.

You can’t name someone Guardian in your will, without discussing it with them first. Like at least make sure they’d be willing and able to do it. I have no one to have that discussion with. I live my life independently from everyone, which as a result has ironically enough left me independent from everyone. So now, I have these two precious children to care for, and I do care for them. So much that right now in my opinion, no one else is good enough to care for them if/when I die. So I have to just not die until they’re old enough to care for themselves. Oh but C you say, what about accidents? What if you get run over by a car tomorrow?

DUH!!!!! So now you see my motherfucking problem. I have to make a will! I have to pay off my debts. I have to plan for them. Z still has 12 more years to go until she’s 18. 12 more years. I’ve only been a parent for 8.5 but I’ve made it this far. First I had to get through the divorce. Now, it’s time for me to actually start looking ahead. Planning for the future. Something I haven’t ever really done before. Everything was just get me through this day, this week, this marriage, this divorce. And now? Well now I need to be able to say get not only me through this life, but my kids through theirs.

So I’ve got to start planning ahead. But how do I plan another parent for my children? Seems like trying to get the past and the future to merge as one. I already picked a dad when I made them, and that didn’t work out well as we all know. As you can see I’m quite hesitant to try again. I don’t want to utterly fail my kids in the parenting department twice… or more.

So needless to say I won’t be writing a will anytime soon.

As dumb as it seems, it seems more logical than wasting time and money on preparing a will when I don’t know what it should say.

-Switchfoot/Dare You To Move-

Thoughts

A few weeks ago I was laying in bed and relaxing before going to sleep and calming my breathing and thought patterns as has become my habit lately. Also something that has become part of my life is thinking of K too much. I try to avoid it as much as possible. I pushed thought of him as far I could. Sometimes thoughts of him would come, but it’s wasn’t so much thoughts of him so much as thoughts from him. And sometimes I figured what’s the harm of enjoying what little of him I had in my life? And I would allow the thoughts from him to hold me while I slept at night or tell me he loved me… things like that. But a few weeks ago, as I was relaxing, and getting rid of my thoughts from the day and releasing unwanted emotions and energy etc, all of a sudden I was just a thought. I wasn’t even in my room or on my bed. Me, in my whole entirety as C, was represented as only a thought. I had no weight of the world holding me down. No previous emotions or situations keeping me here. I was just so in that moment that I was singularly that thought of Me. And I was with the singular thought that represents K. And we talked.

And then to reform my world was a slow scary step by step process. What should I do first? How should I move to ‘rebecome’ C? The room and remembrance of where I was on my bed in Kelowna took place first. And then from there the whole world as it was just sort of fell into place in my memory as I reached slowly for a drink or water. The whole time thinking is this the right move to make? Or should I be recreating this scene differently? Am I fucking up all of my future? Or is this predestined already? Anyways. I laid back on my bed and went to sleep almost immediately, and dreamt of K which at this point is normal.

What was not normal? K called me the next day. After all this time.

Up until now, I could basically play it off like this was all in my head and I’m just a girl who was way to in love with a guy. But when he called the next day and said he was thinking of me the night before… a lot. And that he’d been thinking of me a lot all the time? It was both a relief and a stress.

Now this is real real. Like now I can’t just play it off like this is only in my head. Now he’s obviously connected to me too. I explained what happened to me (kinda, I mean how do you explain this) expecting him to have experienced the same, but was disappointed when he said no, he just heard my name said over and over so loud and clear in his head. I asked him who’s voice it sounded like and he said his own. So either he’s downplayed what happened to him, or he’s not experiencing things as deeply as I am, in which case lucky him because this shit is scary. When the whole universe dissolves enough to bring your being close enough to someone else’s so they hear your name, but then the reality is recreated like no biggie? How else do you describe it other than terrifying?

And how do I move on from here? It’s not like there’s a textbook full of studies on the subject. When you’ve discovered something this mind blowing and new, it’s…. well mind blowing and new. So I’m at a loss.

A loss so big it’s leaving me feeling very alone and helpless. Because I literally feel like there is no one to turn to for support, as this is not something that’s been dealt with before and the person I’m supposedly going through it with, is not even as deep as I am.

I Wish I Could Be Every Little Thing You Wanted All The Time

Last night Z nearly broke my heart.

I was washing her hair, which could be considered a full time job, although we do it on average once a week if I’ve had enough coffee and sleep, when she made the comment that she doesn’t like her hair and wished it was like all her friends hair, which is in her words ‘smooth’.

Z has the most fantastic Afro, which I’ll admit at first I didn’t at first know the first thing about dealing with for obvious reasons, the main being I never had hair like that so why bother learning right? But over the years as her hair grew I realized it was getting more curly and thick and I would need more insight on how to care for her crowning glory to do it full justice, I started researching what the better quality products would be to use. I learned all about a wash n go and wet plopping and deep conditioning which to be honest were all very helpful for my hair as well since I also have curly hair, although not to the extent of Z’s 3c/4a curls. I learned not to use drug store brands that contain sulphates and other harmful chemicals that will further dry her hair out. I learned how to trim her hair myself to maintain it and get rid of dry, split ends on my own without spending a fortune on a hairdresser. I will admit though that I still cannot plait her hair, but I have learned twist outs and how to lay her edges so I’ll just take that as a win for now. One step at a time. 🤷🏻‍♀️

But when she was upset last night because her hair wasn’t ‘smooth’ like all her friends at school my heart fell into my gut. I can only be so much of a roll model for her in this area. I wear my hair as big, full and curly as possible, because I honestly feel the bigger the better, and I truly think natural hair is better. I’ve straightened my hair maybe once a year since finding out all this information about hair for Z. Little E wears his hair pretty close cut because he just has no interest in keeping a style and prefers it practically shaved, and even when he does grow it out, it’s not as curly as Z’s, it’s more of a thick bigger curl. Her dad maintains a bald head although they don’t see him often (as my regular readers know 3 visits when we went back at Christmas and before that it was February last year). So I guess my point with all these “examples ” is that she has no natural hair role models as far as her hair texture. I’ve shown her on places like instagram woman with beautiful hair like hers and how they wear it even bigger than hers. For reference, her fro averages between 6-10 inches but I don’t fluff it out on the bigger side often. She prefers to style it pushed back with a headband or with a few clips or two pigtail afropuffs. Which is for the best because those are the only ones I can pull off half decently.

Anyways this is a very roundabout way of saying I hurt for her. I want her to be proud of every part of her, but this is a way I can’t directly be a role model for her. Yes, I can wear my hair naturally and I do, but her hair is distinctively different, not only from mine, but from the streets of Kelowna and even where we were before and heck even in a Kenya because of the mix, and others notice. I think it’s fantastic and beautiful and many others do as well. We constantly receive compliments while out about how nice her hair is of which I reminded her last night. I told her that her hair is original and beautiful and she should never want to change who or how she is. I was detangling it and showed her how long it was while wet and stretched out and she was so impressed, since it reaches to her elbows. So after the bath, I did one long braid for her down her back and she was much happier and kept mentioning how long and smooth it looked. Albeit it only lasted about 15 minutes until it was completely dry and shrunk up to her neck but it made her happy in that moment.

I’m just wondering how to move forward from here. I’m WELL aware that my kids should have strong black role models in their life, but if there aren’t any around… I can’t just produce them out of thin air.

My in laws are not an option, her dad is out of the question. The black community in Kelowna is to be honest practically nonexistent (trust me, I’ve looked). But I know that it will be something they need to become the fullest version of themselves they can be.

I guess that’s the most frustrating aspect of this experience. Knowing I can be the best mom I can possibly be. I can make all the healthy lunches and arrange all the play dates and study up on all the hair care and do all the sex talks, to name a few examples, but facts are facts, and facts in my situation is that my kids are half black, there’s no denying that, and I would never want to. And that culture is not something I can provide them, and they desperately need it.

It makes me feel so inadequate.

Knowing no matter what, I’ll never be enough. And I can’t do it on my own.

And what’s worse it that the right people are not offering to help.

***update***

Just stopped at Walmart and saw this ironic and timely display showing Robert Munschs books on display

All had been picked through except the braids book (which Z owns). It’s a book about a girl with hair like Z’s and how she doesn’t like to have it braided since it takes a while and hurts. Etc. But anyways it’s literally just shows how no one in Kelowna has that culture in their life nor is trying to pass it on to future generations here and I’m on my own with my kids. 😑

*Z with morning bed head for reference*


-Dishwalla / Every Little Thing –

Leaving To Find My Soul Told Her I Had To Go And I Know It Ain’t Pretty When Our Hearts Get Broke

The fact that I am alive is proof enough that I am a God.

No one can confirm for sure how the world started.  Not when or how or at what point, which leaves it wide open for interpretation on exactly how or why we got to this place in history or the present place in the universe.

Did we come with a purpose? I believe so. Once being to discover the fact that just being here makes our journey complete. We fundamentally have made it by making ourselves. We came. We saw. We each individually have essentially conquered the obstacles of creation by mutually not only choosing to co-exist but at the same time to create the same reality we all choose to collectively perceive and view as real or life if you will.  That fact, in and of itself makes us all God, or a portion of ‘God’ or a ‘soul’ on the outside, all jointly looking in on this world we have created and living out through human existence.

Many over the course of this dynamic perception have  tried to explain this phenomenon. Some use science to get closer to the answer. Some simply trust in the unknown God/deity they choose to represent the beginning. Other pure and simple refuse to acknowledge that question at all, which leads them not searching for an answer. In fact the large majority of today’s population have been satisfied with just living that they have no desire to wonder how their life came into being in the first place. They have become complacent. The are satisfied with a big bang, or a creation, but when it comes down to it, humans are afraid to dig deeper. Since when you try to truly uncover further into the origins of not only the world, but yourself, it will leave you looking starkly at one thing and one thing only.

No matter which theory you align yourself with, we all started at the same place. All at the same time. When I say ‘we’ I don’t mean on the surface level of the life ‘we’ live as you read this. I dive deep into us as a humanity and a universal perception.

The creation of this reality had to start in A moment. Where we all collectively branched out on our own journeys to create at will. Maybe we went from one to a million in an instant big bang style. Maybe ‘we’ collectively planned our futures and our memories and agreed we would just agreed to have thoughts and memories that extended so far back to create a reality and at the count of three wake up one morning go on our way. Maybe ‘we’ split in two and then four and then eight etc, like a baby in the womb. Maybe, we did all of the above, and agreed to each carry a different version of the conception deep in our thoughts hidden in so many lifetimes. This would help us to never return to the loneliness of being one together, since we knew we would never allow our views to change once spread so vast and becoming so hardened.

But once spread out and functioning as a world as we are now, what if two or more individual humans began to think as one again on such a level that they shared this kind of information? What would it do to the origins of the entire perception of the world? It could destroy it. It could destroy the original ‘creation’ that came from thinking independently. The separation and joy and individuality that came from the creation, that allowance to have different thought processes and different opinions that would have never occurred had we all remained as one, would be wiped out. We would return to that being of oneness.

So the fact that from the source and the beginning there are differences should bring the most joy as well as enlightenment. Joy to know the source of this world had knowledge to discover it must become different in order to expand and create eventual life. And enlightenment to acknowledge that you are a byproduct of that source.

This empowering knowledge lends to the discovery that along the way our thoughts at one point in the past were connected. Before we became so focused on the perception of this tangible reality, we were all connected and intermingled not as humans, but as souls, or thoughts. So if we did it before, lived as one in a bodyless haven, why should we limit ourselves to the possibility of creating this reality or perception we see every day, and focus instead on uncreating or returning to that for our souls.

I’m not suggesting it will happen overnight, as many indiscretions have been made against each other or each soul or thought process throughout this creation process since our infinite decision long ago to part ways. It will take many conscious repairs to mend bonds that were broken along the way, but can be made easier with the knowledge that we are all the source and the beginning, and therefore we all originally had intentions of creating a reality. Did we know exactly how it would turn out? No because we gave each other the freedom to create and be individuals. But with the brokenness, we may not feel like it on the surface, but our souls are longing for healing.

We are all longing to come back home to ourselves as one. Where we all began.

 

-Macklemore / These Days-

 

Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely Is This The Feeling I Need To Walk With?

So I’ve been living here in Kelowna for 7 months. Plenty of time to get nice and settled and make  massive amounts of new friends and join plenty of clubs, classes,  activities what have you.

As much as I feel at home in my house, and actually enjoy the town as a whole, basically because of the views, I’m not really thrilled with the choice I made to move, since it’s been leading me to some weird… stuff.

It’s a catch 22 at the moment. My kids are overall so much happier, and because of that, I am confident that I made the right decision in relocating. Their school is superb and they have made good friends. The daycare is crap, but there really aren’t too many other options for someone in my position to change that right now so it will have to do. I find the school incorporates so many more activities into the children’s day which is something I just don’t have the energy to do. They’ve had people in to teach them about inline skating, parkour, indigenous people, petting zoo tours, gone ice skating, hiking in the mountains, tobogganing, and have swimming planned for the upcoming weeks. That’s for both Little E and Z’s classes, getting to do all those things within the last few months of school. I feel like it helps lift the burden off of me feeling like I need to get out often with the kids to give them those experiences when they are having them at school and enjoying them with friends.

My family here in town has been good too. We’ve gotten together a few times for dinner or going out for walks and visits. My uncle even took the kids for supper last Saturday then to an arcade just to give me a break for a few hours.

It was weird. I didn’t know what to do with myself while they were gone since to be honest normally I would go to sleep but I had to stay up wait for them to get dropped off back home. So of course all I could do was think about how lame my life had become when it’s completely obsessed with taking care of my children. So here I am. Home alone at night for the first time since we moved here 7 months ago, and I had nothing to do. It was pathetic.

I had no friends to call.

No hobbies to turn to.

Nothing off the top of my head that would be fun for me to do.

So I made myself supper and then spent close to an hour trying to find something to watch on prime video since I had recently cancelled Netflix to save money. Then once I finally decided on a show, ended up just scrolling through Instagram while the show played until the kids came home around 9.

It was the most pathetic night off ever. Don’t worry you can judge me, I know it was bad.

And all the thoughts I was trying to avoid all night was how lame and lazy it was. How lame I was. How I’d been living here 7 months and hadn’t made any friends that I could call and chat with. How I’d been here this long and I am still so alone. Which of course moved into how I should stop having conversations with myself because I refuse to think I’m crazy. Since my kids already have one parent with mental health issues, they don’t need a second locked up in the psych ward. So keep it together C. Don’t become like E.

But to be honest…

How does a person know if they are not crazy? (This is where my alone thoughts take me lately… this and where did the universe start, which isn’t any more helpful) Sure I function in my day-to-day life perfectly fine. I get my kids up and out the door to school on time. I perform all my duties at work without any issue. I’m 100% aware of what’s going on around me…. I think. But that’s the issue. What if I’m missing out on something, and I’m not aware of it. How would I know?

I think about that a lot. Do people with mental health issues know they have them? Or to put it simply and very politically incorrectly, do crazy people know they are crazy?

Especially someone in my position. I don’t have any friends to talk to, or to tell me I”m acting differently lately, so how would I know?

Because to be frank, I feel crazy sometimes. I feel like there is stuff going on in my mind that I cannot stop or understand or explain, and that I did not put there. But how do I know if that’s normal or not normal? How can I explain if this is how it’s supposed to be, and something everyone is probably experiencing, or if I’m the one-off? Because some of the thoughts are so far out there, it’s not something you can bring up in casual conversation with someone new you meet at the coffee shop (not that that ever happens anyways). But I want to have deep conversation about deep things that I have going through my mind and thoughts, but to be honest, I’m worried and scared that if I shared them with your average joe, they’d give me the side eye and maybe call me in to have a welfare check done on my kids. I’d never harm my kids. Trust me. I’m doing everything I can to be the best mother I can. But it’s something deeper and more powerful than that that I’m trying to overcome and I don’t know how. I don’t think anyone knows how. SO who is there to talk to if it’s an issue no one has dealt with before?

Yes it’s most likely all the spare time that is leading me to this pattern of thought, but is it  good or bad? Am I discovering something that’s never been discovered before? Or am I going crazy and I just have no one around to tell me.

I guess no one will know. Since its indescribable. And if I can’t describe my problem, no one can understand it, let alone solve it. Not even me.

You see my problem.

Definitely too much alone time to come up with this problem in the first place.

But it makes you think.


-Backstreet Boys / Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely-

Callin It Quits Now Baby I’m A Wreck

2019.

Here I am.

Taken me a while to…. not necessarily find the time to do this recap of the last year of my life, but more specifically find the desire to share what I’ve accomplished and overcome as well as my shortcomings in 2018.

So where to start.

I guess the most obvious place would be the easiest.

I moved. I uprooted my family and moved 900 plus kilometres away to resettle once again, for hopefully the last time. So far I’ve enjoyed the new place. The house specifically I’m not a fan of, but the city is good and the lifestyle is good. The kids have made good friends and are enjoying it here. So I count that as a win.

I lost 50 pounds and then regained 25. So obviously that’s not exciting for anyone who’s interested in getting more fit and not as fat, but it is what it is. And since I can’t hide 25 pounds I might as well just say it like it is, and what it is is crappy. I did start the year with a water fast and lost the 4-5 pounds that I gained over the holidays at my parents but now I’m just back to my plus 25. And really just couldn’t care at this point. No ones looking at my body but me and I’m used to it so it’s not at the top of my priority list right now.

I reached over 1600 followers on this blog, for which I’m really thankful for. I don’t right often now because my minds in a messed up place but I try and keep it real and hope that y’all can appreciate that the way I’m thankful you take you time to read about my life. It still blows my mind that anyone would be interested in someone else’s story, but it helps me continue to write knowing there’s a few of you out there who find it interesting enough.

I turned 31. All alone without leaving my house or blowing out a candle or opening a gift and realized birthdays are a sham.

I finally got divorced. Again all alone, but it was a somewhat momentous occasion for me as it had been years in the making and when it finally came it was a weight off. I won sole custody (duh) and it’s just good to know that won’t drag on forever.

I stopped fucking around. To most of you that’s not a big deal, but for me, who used guys and let guys use me, it’s phenomenal. I haven’t had sex in too long and see none on the horizons but I’m somewhat ok with that. It just wasn’t as valuable to me as it used to be, and no longer brought me any joy whatsoever. So I stopped messing around. It’s like a double edged sword, but I think it’s best for me, both for now and probably long term.

I realized I don’t really like my job. I mean it’s fine and all, but definitely not something I’ll want to do long term. I’ve been doing some soul searching as to what steps I could take and what direction I want to take my life, but my dilemma right now is that I can’t feasibly get an entry level job in the genre I’m considering that’s anything close to what I make now. So I’ll just wait it out right now.

Other than that…. I’m still the same old C.

Divorced, overweight, mom of two. Working only to pay the bills, and chilling at night alone.

Do I have goals for the upcoming year? Not in particular. I know me. I know when I set goals, I never achieve them, I have no self discipline to follow through. But if I end up just doing something in the spur of the moment, then damn I’m so proud of myself instead of being disappointed for not doing something.

2018 in the bag. Whatever that means.

2019…. I’m not looking forward to you, but to be honest I’m not looking forward to anything these days.

-Subflower/ Post Malone & Swae Lee-

I Find Myself Longing For Change And In The Bad Times I Fear Myself

Monday I had a friend over and I got so drunk. Something I’ve done less than a handful of times in my entire life. Drinking is really not something I find desirable shall we say. Anyways, life has been stressing me out more than normal and so I just let it all go. Nothing crazy happened that night but I mention it only so that when I say I missed two calls from the prison, you’ll understand why. It’s because I was so drunk I spent the night caressing the porcelain throne as opposed to watching for calls lol.

I remember being slightly upset when I saw the missed calls on my phone but it was right when I started to feel sick and the nauseated feeling definitely outweighed the sorrow of missing a phone conversation.

Which brings us to Wednesday, when I’m at work. AT WORK!!! And the COMPANY PHONE RINGS, and its the prison number. At work, on the company phone. Not even my own personal cell phone number anymore. This time, it was a female prisoner calling from somewhere in the country (I can’t remember now but I know I recognized the name of the city at the time of the call) but it was registering as the same number that calls my phone. I guess all the prisons use the same outgoing number? I’m not sure. Either way, I answered the call. Apparently it was some girl looking for her aunt. She asked if I was Anne. Nope I’m not. Then she asked if I was someone else (can’t remember I was so in shock, like literally what in the world was going on) so I said no. And she said she was looking for her aunt and I said sorry I can’t help and basically hung up. I was at work and this was just getting crazy now. Then I just let out one of those shocked laugh/chuckle things which led my co-worker to ask what happened, so I explained what happened.

So my boss A storms around the corner ‘that’s not funny’ ‘this has to stop’ Insinuating that I’ve arranged this somehow, or I have power over when the phone rings. Look I’m at work doing my job answering the phone YOU told me to answer. But he just kept going on and on about how if ‘they’re tracking me, and now know where I work, and are calling me here, then they are probably tracking him and my co-worker and it puts everyone in danger’. Etc.

I’m like don’t flatter yourself buddy. Trust me. No one has any interest in you. But good to know your a little bitch who lives in fear. But instead of feed his fear, I did my best to calm him down and explain it was a misdial and it was a girl from a different prison and she was looking for her aunt and all I did was answer the call so he backed off. For the moment. But then throughout the day he used our inter-office messaging system and it kept popping up on my computer…

‘Any more calls like that and you must report them to me immediately’

‘The likelihood of those calls being unrelated are highly unlikely’

I just kept thinking dude just back off and let me do my work. Right now, your causing more of a disturbance and threat to my peace than those calls ever did. I’m sorry you search out fear and panic, but I’m just going to move on and forget about it. If something happens then I’ll deal with it then. But for now, I’ve got enough REAL junk in my life that I’m not gonna create delusional shit in my mind.

So. Lol. Anyone else have ‘random’ prison calls at work and home?

-Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper / Shallow-

So Please Help Them With Your Youth, They Seek The Truth Before They Can Die.

So it’s here.

That’s time of the day when the kids have gone to sleep and the lunches are packed and the house is clean because I spent all day vacuuming (I even did between/under the couch cushions) and mopping and scrubbing. All three loads of laundry are clean and folded and even put away. The dishes are washed and drying. We even went for groceries that are now all put away nicely. The kids are sleeping on freshly washed bedding with freshly washed bodies and freshly brushed teeth.

And then it hits me. In the silence as I stand in my bedroom. The thing I’ve been avoiding for forever.

There’s nothing left to do.

There’s nothing left to try and preoccupy my mind and keep it busy to pretend like I’m not constantly thinking about what I’m unfortunately thinking about.

The emptiness is literally all around and I’m engulfed in silence.

I never thought my life would get to this point. To this completely and utterly alone point. Where there’s nothing left to distract me. There’s no way to even pretend I’m in the most lonely place in the world.

I’m in my mind. Alone.

And I hate it.

It happens every night even I get undressed and ready for bed alone. When the house is in total silence except for the few familiar sounds I make. But that’s it. There’s no music blaring in fear of waking the kids. I don’t sit in the living room and watch tv because that seems like a couples thing. I put the kids to bed, clean up, and then I go to my room. I own this whole house, but I find myself stretched out on my bed, even now, writing this post from my phone. Sure the office is a few rooms away with a fully functional computer and a nice chair etc, but it feels uncomfortable. Not in the soft squishy sense. But uncomfortable in the fact that it’s not what I’m used to.

I’m a creature of habit. And my habit is to be safe, and warm. Not venture out in the dark alone. So when my kids are asleep… I’m here. On my bed. Endlessly scrolling instagram hopefully for its stupid entertainment. Listening to music, needing it to fill my void. Watching pointless things on Netflix.

But its in that moment before I get ‘settled’ on the bed, that the hopelessness finds me. Each night getting worse. The feeling or ‘why even bother’ ‘how pathetic can I get’ ‘look at how sad your life is’ ‘your not going anywhere C’ ‘this is your story’ ‘no ones going to even remember who you were… and rightfully so’ …. that I just hate myself.

I wish a million times over that I could’ve done so many thing differently to have never ended up where I am. I think of what could’ve been had I not have done this or that. Or instead pursued this opportunity or that option when it was offered. But instead… I stayed in my confining comfort zone. And I’m left with this.

This ‘life’ that is nothing of a life at all. Its a routine that I have to complete everyday and nothing more. It’s a struggle and a burdensome weight that I carry only with the hope that my kids will maybe possibly discover something more fulfilling than I have. But then I realize I’m doing nothing to help foster any dreams they may have.

I stifle any individuality they may show by my strict rules and discipline all in an attempt to keep my routine as easy as possible for myself. I don’t allow them freedom to express or explore… ever basically. I have no extra funds to encourage trying new extra curricular activities. Instead I’ve come to the understanding just now while writing this, that my entire reasoning is counterproductive. I want the best for them but provide none of the opportunities to achieve that. I’m to exhausted by the end of my day to even play a god damn board game with them.

So I shovel them off to bed to rest myself, and then hate being alone.

You know what? I just don’t even have a decent enough train of thought to reason this one out. Facts seem pretty clear: I’m a ridiculous mom.

I say I want to be a good mom. And on the surface I invest a lot of time and energy into the things that would paint that picture. But when it comes down to it, my kids are getting a pretty shitty end of that stick.

I guess this is what I get for thinking to much in bed at night.

A shitty stick 😕

-Crosby, Stills & Nash/Teach Your Children-