Just a rant

     I miss you. As much as you say you miss me. You keep asking me to come visit you on the other side of the country. I don't think that is ever going to happen, and I'm trying to come to terms with the unhappy fact that I may never see you again.

     You want me to take time off work, pay airfare and stay with you in a home that is going to make me physically sick because I am allergic to your multiple pets. And then there is your roommate who, although I love them as much as you, is enough to make a saint swear. I've offered to get a hotel in the large city an hour from your home, but you tell me that is too far for you to come to see me. You offer to get me a room at a hotel in your town that is so small you don't even have a pharmacy. I'd have nothing to do except gamble at the casinos where you spend so much of your leisure time.

     I have asked you several times to come visit me. But you say you can't. I don't understand why not. You don't have a job to take time off from. You could visit other relatives and friends other than just me.

     I feel like I just don't matter to you as much as you say. I don't know what to do with this unsettling thought.

The annual holiday melt-down

     But really... I feel like I have this immense weight on my shoulders. No matter what I do, it never seems to get lighter. I do everything I can, but as soon as I think I've got things under control, someone dumps a fresh pile of rocks on top of me. Now, I don't know how to handle what's going on. I struggle so often, not only to be a responsible adult, but also to be a good and supportive friend to those around me.
     Now I find out that I don't just feel taken advantage of. I have been handed proof and an admission that I am. I have a friend that needed some financial help for a while. All I asked was that this person be honest about certain things that were going on. Tonight, I got incontrovertible proof that this person has been lying to me. They promised me that something was going to happen, when they knew the whole time that it wasn't. When I asked direct questions about it, they lied to my face.
     I try and try. I feel like I'm supporting my friends, but I'm not getting the same support in return. I don't know what to do anymore....

     I feel totally overwhelmed right now. I got the call from Human Resources that I've been waiting for, and I'm starting on the twilight shift on April Fool's Day. I can't wait to have a "normal" schedule again! I miss being able to have social contact during the week, and it's hard to manage cramming everything into Friday and Saturday... Which actually meant all my socialization was happening on Saturdays, because everyone else works on Fridays. But I'm still struggling with the ongoing pain in my legs and back. It has mostly settled into the arthritic aches I'm used to, but there's still the muscle pain that I can't quite explain. Plus, the ongoing drama that comes with living in a house named WTF...
     I'm still mad at the mated pair of roomies, and am waiting to see if they make good on the offer to help pay Unemployed Roomie bills this month. But I'm not holding my breath. I'm making nice, because I can't bring myself to tell them where I want them to go. And I certainly can't afford to pick up their share of the bills as well! They seem to think that I've gotten over my temper-tantrum, but the truth is, I still feel like my opinions don't count to them, and I can't seem to make them understand how that makes me feel.
     Gods... I can't seem to catch a break. If I'm not juggling someone's hurt feelings and neediness, I have my own massive breakdown. I'm hoping to see my doctor when I have my next vacation from work. I need to deal with my yo-yo-ing health. I need to figure out why I can't seem to feel "right" anymore. 
     I feel like I do nothing but rant and whine on this blog. I keep trying to find positive things to talk about, but right now, I don't feel very positive. Instead, I feel like I'm in a sand-pit. No matter how much I try to climb out, the walls just crumble and I fall back to the bottom again. I suppose it's at least good that I know things have to change. I'm not trapped in the soul-crushing depression that I used to feel. 
     And...here come the panic attacks again. I'm going to put on some music and force the roommates to put up with my singing. Then, I will curl up with my comfy blankets and sleep until I'm not tired anymore...

Okay... WHO STOLE MY SPOONS!

     I live every day of my life with arthritis and anxiety. These are invisible illnesses that cause me pain and stress on a regular basis. I spend my energy dealing with this, keeping a smile on my face, and doing my best not to complain about it. Most days, it is easy. Sometimes, it's harder. On my occasional bad days, I can usually fight my through what I must, but tire easily. Anyone who suffers with an invisible illness understands these days of "spoon shortage."
     But this past weekend was something I have no words for. I have been dealing with a lot of stress at home, as I've explained in the last few posts. I knew it was getting to me but I had no idea how bad. I got home from work on Friday morning, looking forward to a fun weekend, including a St Patrick's Day party at the house of some friends. I was going to start my weekend off with a bit of exercise by staying on the bus until it reached a church where I went to daycare as a child, and walking back home. It's not a very stressful walk, and I need the exercise. But while waiting for the bus, my back started hurting. During the ride, my legs started to ache. So I decided that the long walk was not for me that morning.
     I got home and barely made it up to my room. I took some Motrin, crawled into bed, and turned on the TV. I spent the next two days there. It hurt so much, just to walk to the bathroom! Taking a shower was an exercise in willpower. It was bad enough that I had to cancel my plans to go to the party. I see some of my friends less than once a month, and this was the first time I'd see some of them in even longer. But I was held hostage by a body that just would not cooperate. 
     I slept most of the weekend. When Cortez brought home a friend I wanted to meet, I had to insist that person be brought up to my bedroom, because I couldn't even go downstairs to be polite. Knowing that it was still a necessity, I felt awful that I was basically ignoring the normal rules of etiquette. And after everybody left to go to the party, I was asleep again. I didn't even have the energy to play on the computer...
     I went to work last night, thinking that the pain had finally gone away. But, I was wrong. I felt great leaving the house, but standing at the bus stop for ten minutes, my back was in screaming pain again. The leg ache started up about two hours into my shift. I'm back home, and back in bed again. I've tried every over-the-counter painkiller I have. Nothing is taking the edge off this. I'm ready to pull the blankets over my head, and it's not even nine a.m. 
     It looks like I'll be going to bed early again. I hope this gets better soon. I may work night shift, but a doctor's appointment still will mean I'd have to take time off work that I can't afford at this point in time. It looks like only time will tell...

I thought this was a family

     I'm going to regret posting this, but it's how I'm feeling right now.
     So, Mort isn't working right now. The reason is irrelevant to this conversation. But he is no longer getting a paycheck, and doesn't have any savings. That means someone else has to pay his bills until he is getting paid again. Naturally, I passed this information on to the other roommates, and the response I have gotten from the mated pair is effectively "It's not our problem." Meaning that Cortez and I are left having to eat the entirety of Mort's bills between the two of us.
     Don't get me wrong. I make enough money that as long as I have help, I can cover Mort. It just can't do it and be able to afford any kind of pleasurable activities. No more fur meets. No more Sunday morning breakfast at the local cafe. No more anything except work, paying bills, and sleep. And Cortez has said that he'll only support Mort for a month, which means if the job search takes too long, I'll be having to tap my savings to cover that difference. Then it goes from an inconvenience to a hardship.
     It's funny. When the mated pair had money difficulties, they had no problem asking Mort & I both to help them out, but when Mort needs help... *crickets* When they asked me for help, I gave it without thought. When Cortez is short on his bills, I cover him till he has the money. Now Mort needs help, and my only thought was "How do we want to handle this as a household." And I hear that it should be his boyfriend's responsibility, or he should call his parents for money. What would happen if, gods forbid, I lost my job? Or if I just wasn't able to shoulder this latest burden? After all the times I've commented that I thought this household was functioning as a family, after all the dinners I've made for everyone out of my own pocket, I don't get it. And then, I comment that the stress of having to be the only one responsible for everything, but I'm still brushed off by this attitude.
     This next month is going to make some very difficult decisions for me. It's going to affect my relationships with several friends. It's going to determine how I continue to spend my limited social time. I know I'm not going to be easy to be around while I go through this... It's too much like what I went through when supporting the ex-spouse. I don't like having my entire social life being making my friends come to my house. I need to go out and do things!
     And now I've stressed myself into another anxiety attack. Lovely. Time to post this and go back to crochet. Playing with yarn makes me concentrate on something that makes me happy and relaxed. I need to focus on that for a while...

Confused by his reactions...

     It's funny... You say she was a better match for you than I. You loved her more than me. But all I ever heard is how miserable she made you. You'd beg me to convince her to stay with you, and you did for all the things I begged you to do for years...
     I left you, and there were weeks of you crying how miserable and lonely you were. You couldn't wait for me to change my mind and go back to someone who used me up. She left, and you're singing from the rooftops about how happy you are without her.
     Our marriage's death began when you couldn't forgive me for something I almost did, but didn't. You couldn't be quicker to forgive her repeatedly.
     Did you truly love her more? Or was she just the one that made you see how trapped and hurt I was by you? I will never be your wife again, but you know that my love for you will never die. I hated seeing you suffer like that, either time. But just now, I wonder if you truly know what it is to love someone. Or do you only know your own need?

Just my $0.02 on "religious" businesses

     I've been reading a lot of posts on Facebook about religiously affiliated businesses that are fighting the mandate to provide health insurance to all employees. They say it is because they don't believe in allowing employees access to contraceptives and the "morning after" pill. They have the right to believe whatever their religion teaches, but that does not give them the right to tell other businesses how to operate.
     I won't go into the government mandate. That is a separate conversation, that I'm STILL not sure what I think about. BUT, I know how I feel about access to oral contraceptive medication. There were several times in my life where my doctors put me on birth control, not to avoid pregnancy, but because I had other medical conditions that the hormones were necessary to control. I won't lie about enjoying the benefits of birth control a time or two, but there was also the time I had been trying to get pregnant, but my long-term health was more important to me than a chance of becoming a parent. I know there are other women who have to face this choice. Or, like another woman I know, know that pregnancy will likely mean a death sentence. Should they be forced to reject am important part of a committed, relationship when there are other options available?
     I don't think it's fair for these companies to attempt to dictate how their employees should live when they are not at work. This is one of the many reasons I will continue to choose not to spend my money with businesses who clam to be "Christian companies". I won't name who they are, because those who know which stores I mean don't need to be told. And while I don't care for these companies, I respect then enough not to speak poorly of them in a public forum.
     Thank you for listening to my rant. I just got a little frustrated when my Facebook feed was once again full of posts about this...again...

What friends mean to me

     For a few months, I have wanted to write a blog post about friendship. I don't know where to start. There are so many amazing quotes I have found about friendship, ranging from funny to inspirational. I could list a few of those. I could talk about my friends, and what they have meant to me. I could rattle on about definitions and types of friendships. I'm going to try to focus on what it means to me when I call someone friend. Yes, this will be even more incoherent than usual. I quit trying too hard. It's more important that I get my thoughts out than anything else.
     I realize that people use the word "friend" rather freely. It can mean anything from more-than-acquaintance to a person who is as close as family. But if I refer to someone as a Friend, I am referring to the latter. Friends are my family-by-choice. These are the people I try to spend my time with. These are the people I share my deepest feelings with. A Friend is someone whose feelings are as important to me as my own. In college, I defined a friend as being like a hug: warm, comforting, something you can lean on.
     When I was younger, I used to bemoan the fact that I did not have a lot of friends. I wasn't one of the popular kids. Fortunately, I was not alone. And the friends I did have were more dearly valued for it. By not having dozens of people I called friend, I had the time to develop deeper, more meaningful relationships. As I grew to adulthood, I parted company with many of my childhood friends while making new ones. But the people that have been there through the changes in my life... They hold a special place in my heart. Those are the ones who I can reminisce with. They know my crazy moods and how to handle me.
     As I get older, I'm less concerned with having to find new friends. People will come in and out of my life for as long as they need to be there. Some touch that special place in my heart, and I know they will be here for a long time. These Friends are the ones that make me the person I am.
     When a Friend is having trouble, it's my instinct to try to help them. Often, it's just listening to their problems, but I enjoy being able to do anything to make their life more pleasant. I enjoy doing little things to make my Friends smile, from making a surprise Easter basket to making a pot of coffee. When I can, I like giving small knitted stuff to my friends, or take them out to dinner. I will defend my Friends, with everything I have, if they are being wronged. But I don't support blindly. If I know a Friend is wrong, I will tell them. I will try to do so in private if at all possible, but if necessary, I will call a friend out in whatever manner is needed. And I will defend a Friend whenever that is needed, also. Even if they are not around at the time. I don't let people tell un truths about my friends.
     I guess it comes down to me being the kind of friend I want my friends to be toward me: loyal, generous, considerate, honest...As I grow older and less dependent on my family-by-birth, I rely more on those who I have made my family-by-choice, and I strive to be as good, and fair, to them as I can be, because they are that important to me.
     I don't know. I've rattled on about this for about a week. I've lost any ability to be coherent. This is what you get from me when I spend too much time on something. It's the best I can do, the same as I'd give any friend.

Sometimes *I* need the hug

     Congratulations. You have bad days. Your paycheck was short. Your tax return got rejected. You can't pay your bills. 

     Well guess what? I got sent home a lot in the last month. Today's paycheck was $100 short of the usual amount. Last check? Even smaller. 

     But guess what else? I went without luxuries. I paid my bills and bought food. No trips to the State store or the beer distributor for me! And last month, I paid the utilities before anyone had the money to pay for them. I had to wait for everyone to pay me back. Well... Not everyone. One person still owes me for the bills paid in January. So this month, when the bills came due, only one person has paid up. The others? Left me hanging in the wind. Because obviously, I don't want to spend my money on anything. I'm used to doing without. I mean, Roomie C even had the nerve to act surprised that I had the bills hanging on the fridge for over two weeks. Am I really supposed to chase everyone around the house, begging them to pay their bills??

     And this is after months of me having to clean up after everybody. None of the boys will lift a finger to do anything around this house unless I threaten them. Having a party at CNFH? Sage & Morgain will clean up for it? After the party? Morgain will take care of everything when she gets up in the morning.

     After the St Patrick's party that Roomie C is "throwing" (I've done most of the planning, leg work) I'm seriously considering a moratorium on guests of any sort. If you don't pay monthly rent, floor space can be rented out at $20/night/person. And you will still be expected to clean up after yourself.

     I'm sick of taking care of everyone else. It makes me feel good to know that I've brightened the day/life of the people I live with. But when only one of them ever does anything in return? I'm not appreciated. I'm being taken advantage of. When I see a roommate having a bad day, I try to do something to make it better. A cup of coffee, a snack, a smile, a joke...whatever it takes. Roomie sees me walking around the apartment with tears in my eyes, complaining about how I'm on the ragged edge and feel like I'm about to break, he does nothing. Whatever.

Stupid Hallmark holidays...

     Yep. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. I've done everything I could to avoid it. But the TV keeps shoving it in my face. And my happy friends are talking about their special plans for their partners. I'd really rather not deal with this right now. I don't need my ALONE-ness shoved in my face, when I am having enough trouble dealing with it.

     In some ways, grieving a marriage is harder than mourning a person's death. When a person dies abruptly, you know there is nothing you could have done to change it. Sickness, accident, violence... These are enemies we cannot fight. But apathy, anger, disgust, rejection... These are things we're supposed to be able to overcome. I don't even know why the idea of Valentine's Day even bothers me. I was single for so long, it lost almost all meaning. Then, when I did have somebody, it didn't even matter. He didn't really seem to get the idea. Don't get me wrong. He got it right one year. That would be the time he got me a deep fryer as a gift, and made me a dinner of all my favorite fried foods. But most of the time he didn't even bother. Probably because I was so angry at his thoughtlessness at the last Valentine gift he gave me.

     I had been complaining about having gained more weight than I wanted. My clothes were starting to not fit. So I made a big deal of explaining that I was going to eliminate candy and sugar from my diet, as well as try to include more fruits and vegetables instead of the pasta I usually ate. So when this time of year came around, he brought home three pounds of chocolate. There was one box containing two whole pounds of chocolate covered cherries, and another box holding an assortment of chocolate candies. That I could not eat. That I had said I could not eat. So he set the boxes on the table where we dropped everything as we came in the door, saying he would eat them. I'm still not sure how the three pounds of chocolate ended up buried under a pile of papers, but when I found them about six months later, they were now two boxes of moldy, melted, gross chocolate. Never again did he bother to do anything for me on Valentine's Day. Never made me a dinner. Never bought me a card. Never even mentioned that he knew it was Valentine's.

     So, I don't know why this bothers me. I guess it's that all of this "celebrate love" crap I see everywhere makes me feel like I've failed in some way. Like the failure of my marriage makes me a failure as a woman. I know this is not true, but it doesn't make me feel better.

     My "totally reasonable response" to this? I'm going to go to Payless and buy myself some new shoes. Then I'm going to get myself some chocolates and take myself to lunch. Maybe buy myself a drink. Who knows. Maybe I'll take myself home and see what happens? (just kidding)

Why did I try to be nice? NSFW

     Interesting bit of gossip learned yesterday. Apparently, Blaze is "ok with me leaving him" because I was boring in bed. Funny. If I was so boring, why did he complain that I didn't want to sleep with him more often? And why is it that for the last several months, he refused to sleep with me at all? Oh well. Not my problem. I have a sex life again. And it's certainly not "boring".
     I realize that I was not exactly the most charitable person toward Blaze for the first month or so after leaving him. But since then, I've actually been coming to his defense far more than I ever thought I would. And why? Because I am trying to be a decent person. And here, I learn that he's been busy bad-mouthing me to our friends? And just being an absolute heel.
     I'm done. I'm not going to be nice anymore. I tried inviting him to the furry parties I host. He lost most of his social circle when I left, and I was trying not to exclude him from the social activities of a group we both belong to. But he wouldn't come "because he isn't ready to be social with me". At least that's what he told me. He told another friend that it is because of roomie P. I have a friend who told me he spent hours trying to get her into bed. On the day they first met!
     What a dick! I'm so glad to be rid of him!  </rant>