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Feb. 28th, 2010

belly dancer


Ridiculously tired. Yesterday was day 3 of the 30 Day Shred and Jillian is a sadistic HOAR. I hurt all over, and that is compounding my grumpiness from lack of sleep. Mama has started to move into her house which means when I got here Friday night, in place of my queen sized bed (which is now at the other house), there is a double. Fine, except the dog takes up most of the bed even though he's maybe 20 lbs tops. I don't understand how this is possible, but, for the last two nights between the dog in the bed, the sun in the window, and the puppies downstairs I haven't slept more than 4 hours both nights. I'm drained totally. I need to go to church, but, I really just want to go upstairs and crawl in bed and sleep. I'm so tired. I can take a nap when I get home I guess, and I very well may...if I stay awake for the next hour to even leave. I'm supposed to be greeting though because my mother is in charge of all that and one of her greeters can't do it today.

Damn it. I'm gonna go curl up for half an hour.

Feb. 27th, 2010

belly dancer

(no subject)

I will not be vindictive and report JC to his probation officer...I will not...I will not...I will not. Maybe. Motherfucker would deserve it though.

Feb. 23rd, 2010

belly dancer

well, that's different.

I went to talk to a counselor yesterday, psychologist rather and got a super fun diagnosis of bipolar with generalized anxiety disorder as a secondary and also OCP (obsessive compulsive personality...which isn't really all that bad, it just means I'm pretty damn anal)and likely adult ADD. Of course duh, I've had ADD since I was a wee little thing but I always found a way to manage it by pissing my teachers off doing 5 things at once and still being able to answer the question when they asked.

I don't necessarily disagree with Bipolar. I do disagree about it being type I, which would imply that I actually had fits of mania, which I don't. I have cycles of major depression with a "mania" that consists of feeling just slightly better than normal and then periods of 'okayness" in between them. I will protest that diagnosis when I go and talk to the counselor again next week (boy it's handy being able to look up my own medical records in our system). She also made a suggestion for a specific type of vitamin (off record since she's not supposed to give medication advice) for me to try and take and see if helps some. I have thirty days until my medication evaluation. If taking the vitamin gets things under control, then I will ask not to be put on anything other than a mild antidepressant and something for anxiety. There is no way in hell I'm letting these people drug me.

In other news, fifth_dimension and I ordered these three Jillian Michaels DVDs that I'm pretty sure are going to make us hate our lives. Shit shit. But I'm excited. I have to get a DVD player so I don't have to watch it on my laptop as it would make it quite hard. Exercising always makes me feel better though when I am able to motivate myself enough to do it. Again, that is part of the depression piece but hey...I know what this thing is now and I ain't scared of no brain chemicals.

Listen up body--you don't control me. I control you. Get it? Got it? Good. I'm not going to let this thing beat me. The last few years have been getting increasingly bad but no more. I am going to feel normal again. I'm determined.

Feb. 13th, 2010

belly dancer

scratch that

Well hell. Here we are, a month and a half later. Would you like to know what I accomplished on my list of things I was going to do? None of it. This is why I don't make resolutions because I fail epically at keeping them.

Anyway. Nothing really exciting has happened. I had a Desperate Housewives moment where I decided to seduce the fella that was painting my mother's house. That lasted for about three weeks before he got back together with an ex girlfriend. No skin off my nose though, really. I knew that was destined for failure from the start, most notably because he had no interest in stopping his drug use, particularly the pill popping. Weed I can deal with. That's just so common it's hard to really even call it a drug. I won't stand by though while someone pops oxys and xanaxs though. I'm just not that kind of girl.

I read my first book of the year, finally. At least one that was fiction and not spiritual-based. It was The Iron King by Julie Kagawa. Young adult romance, which I'm sure some of you are going to go "Oh GAWD the cheese" but it was really freakin' fantastic. Seriously. The woman can throw down a setting like no other. Also, I am a total sucker for faerie fiction. Guh. It was really fab. Then Lauren and I discovered that it was only released on Feb 1???? What??? The next book in the series isn't coming out until August. Woe! On the up side though, it has made me want to seriously start writing again. I really think that YA fiction is going to be my forte because my writing is just too light and funny most of the time to do anything worth adult fiction--at least that they would think so. Besides, young readers have way more imagination these days. I don't want to be the next Dan Brown, y'all. That's not my goal. I want to write fun fiction that people enjoy reading that will make them want to read my next book. That is my primary goal. To create interesting, dynamic characters that a young reader can relate to and give them something to dream about beyond their mundane life.

Also: dancing. I really want to start dancing more again. I need to get back down to my "fighting weight" which really wasn't all that small anyway, just under the 200 mark so that I feel comfortable putting on a hip scarf and shakin' my ass. I wish there were a larger belly dancing contingency here in Clarksville. I don't really want to drive to Nashville for classes, especially since they are during the week and hello, I'm working that effed up shift. Weekends are more for performances and showcases. I need to break out the DVDs I have and some youtube and get myself inspired again. Rachel Brice is a goddess among women. That membership at the YMCA needs to happen because I need to work on the Michelle Obama arms and Brice abs if I want to be a dancer like *that*.

Anyway, this is getting rambly so I think I'm done for the night. I really should try to write more. Journaling is cathartic.

Oct. 20th, 2009

belly dancer

moving on

Moving out of the house within the next 2-4 weeks. Being on my own alone will be interesting. It will be hard, but I will make it work. More importantly, when the little love nest over here breaks up (and it will, oh believe me it will), then I have already told my landlord that I want MY damn house back. Then again, I don't want to have to mow the grass. In any event, that's where I am. There was a lot of yelling and crying and fighting this morning. Mostly from me. She just sort of sat there like she wasn't hearing anything at all, or like she doesn't give a fuck that I've wasted the last year of my life being jerked around after she threw away the first year we spent together back in February. So...here's to a new chapter, and a new life. On to bigger and better things.

Aug. 12th, 2009

belly dancer

oh hell no

Fuck that last post. Fuck the person I was trying so hard to better myself for. She broke up with me. Again. And once more? I am devastated. FML.

Aug. 9th, 2009

belly dancer


Y'all, I'm an idiot. I can't believe it took me until almost 25 to realize this plain and simple truth in life: I control my own happiness. For my whole life I've lived for other people doing things to make them happy and content and I never really bothered doing it for myself. Even now, in the midst of another rough patch between me and Ashley (Oh, I never mentioned we got back together in April, did I? Well, we did.) which is mostly my fault all I can do is ask "What can I do to fix this? How can I make you happy" and the answer has been there all along. My depression is what drives her away--how sad, negative, and generally miserable I am. So what can I do to fix it and make her happy? Duh. I need to make myself happy. How can I expect to give anyone a level of fulfillment and happiness when I can't find it in myself? That's silly. If I'm sad and depressed all the time, how could anyone be happy around me? It's like a black hole.

So here is my stand: I'm going to start taking care of myself. Not that I will stop taking care of others, because I do enjoy it, but there are things where I'm going to let them fend for themselves instead of trying to do for everyone. I'm going to stop worrying about how other people perceive me or my actions--not to say that I will be careless or inconsiderate, but I will not let the opinions of others remain the be-all and end-all of what I do. I will give myself permission to do things that make me happy regardless of what I think I owe to other people. So the laundry might not get done one day because I went to the gym--Who cares? It is just not that serious and I would rather do the laundry on my days off and make sure that I give myself time to take care of myself during the week. Which brings me to the job: I'm either going to quit or cut back to part time. It's too stressful for me right now to do this. The kids are too hard and it's killing my sanity. I am definitely cut out for office work. Being a receptionist or a secretary or personal assistant would be ideal. I'm good at that, it allows me to manage things the way I want them done, and I'm not worried that I'll ruin someone's life. Sure, I may still get cursed out from time to time, but I imagine it will be less frequent--and at the very least then I can file a harassment lawsuit for a hostile work environment if it's not my customers doing it. If it is? Who cares because I probably won't see them again anyway. I'm going to go to grad school not this August, but next. I'm not sure yet for what. I may start in the spring if I can. Perhaps Industrial/Organizational psychology, maybe Health and Human Performance with a concentration in public and community health or even health service administration, maybe even a master's in professional studies, which is sort of the liberal arts degree of the MA/MS programs.

Basically it comes down to this: If I want to save my relationship and my sanity I have to actually save myself instead of continuously throwing myself on the ground to make sure that everyone else's needs are met. The self-sacrificing martyrdom doesn't get me anywhere and in the end, it only makes me and everyone else unhappy who has to deal with me. So the moral of the story, kids is you do you, and for the first time I'm finally going to let me do me.

Feb. 17th, 2009

woe cake, who made this??

in the end it doesn't even matter

Ashley and I broke up.

I am destroyed, devastated, shattered...and many other adjectives to describe heartbroken.

Don't know if I'll be back to the LJ scene for a while. Love you all.

Jan. 14th, 2009

belly dancer

on the subject of getting healthy

You would think that doing all these wonderful things to your body to make you healthier would be this energy-filled ride of goodness that went from feeling great because you're eating all the right things right on over to the endorphin highs from working out. Well--it's not. You stress over calories and fat (and carbs if you're not me. I'm not even messing with that shit yet). You're paying out the ass for fresh fruits and vegetables at the grocery store. You get up early and bust your ass at the gym...and then you work a full time (or more) job on top of all of it. Losing weight feels like a damned full time job all by itself. *sigh* 20 lbs down though since October--only 70 more to go?

Dec. 26th, 2008

belly dancer

D-E-D dead.

I am so exhausted and sleep deprived I can't even begin to explain. Tuesday I worked the 4-12 shift, which is all fine and normal...except that the toilet did some weird back flow thing at work and my shiftworker and I were skipping around in two inches of standing water while the alarms kept going off because water went down through the ceiling and into the fire alarm box. That was great fun. Didn't leave until 3 a.m. Came home, dinked around, sleep. I got up for good around 3 p.m. after getting up on and off that morning. Fine. I didn't have to go back to work until midnight anyway. I was hoping to catch a nap around 9 or 10...but no such luck. Went to work at midnight. Literally from the time I walked in the door at 11:45 p.m. until noon today did I cook Christmas dinner for the girls, their families, and staff at the group home. I clocked out just before 3 p.m. That's 15 hours, my dears--and I was awake for over 24 hours. So I came home and took about an hour nap, maybe it was two. Got up again so that I wouldn't sleep all afternoon/evening and then stay up all night because lo, I have to go back to work at 8 am for a double shift until midnight. So I stay up until about 9 and go to sleep...then...one of my coworkers fucking CALLS ME at midnight to ask who is working overnight. It's not me, so why are you calling? omfg?? So here I am...three hours of sleep, well, five I guess in the last 36 hours and I have to get up in four hours to go and work a 16 hour day. Again. At least my paycheck will be bangin' provided I make it through. I've already started getting tremors and nausea from lack of sleep (wtf, srsly? I'm only 24 I should be able to stay up all night for at least another six years). I try to sleep now.

P.S. I hope y'all had a great Christmas for those who celebrated. ♥

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