It's 5:30 in the morning, and the dog is sick. He keeps dry heaving, and not doing anything when I take him outside. I'm assuming it's because he's constipated. But that's not the reason I'm writing, only the condition in which I'm doing so. No, I'm writing because I'm finding myself in a position I far too often experienced while in the middle of my last relationship. I'm left awake, and feeling slightly ill from running on only a few hours of sleep, and from having this nasty wrenching in my gut telling me that I have done something wrong when for the life of me I can't think what the hell it might have been. And what kills is the fact that I find myself feeling that way a fucking lot lately.

     I'm married now. That fact alone puts me in new waters. But another fact puts me there, too. In just about any other relationship, I would have run for the hills at the slightest scent of trouble. But here I am, trying for the life of me to work through the tangled web of emotions, because this time... I want it to work out. I don't want to be left running for the hills only to start over again on the other side.

     But the simple, or rather complicated, fact of the matter is... I have no idea how the fuck I feel. Tiff is always angry, at one thing or another. Or maybe she isn't, and I just percieve it wrong. But the fact remains that there is always a charge about the air that says, "Danger." And I don't know if it's just me or not... and there is always something else. When things should be calm and relaxed, there is always something to stress the situation. Money, dishes, trash, laundry, the animals... I always feel like I'm not doing enough, or something, and it's driving me fucking mad because when I do do something, it's never right.

     I'm not making enough money. I know this, and I can't work any harder. I've put in a few applications elsewhere, but nothing so far. That fact alone is stressful. I do not want to get into the job hunt again. I spent every fucking day in Washington stressing over the fact that I didn't have a job, and that I couldn't fucking find one despite my efforts. Just filling out an application fills me with a horrible sense of depression and anger I can't even rationalize. Added on top of that is the constant reminder from Tiff that it's not fucking enough. And I am SICK of hearing it. And every time she says it, she says it like I'm some kind of fucking idiot who doesn't quite understand the fact that we don't have enough money. I do understand. I DO. The simple fact of the matter is that I can't fucking change it, and I'm really sick of hearing about how I need to and hearing about how I should go about it.

     Things seem like shit, but they really aren't. We are getting by just fine. We're not able to live in monetary comfort the way we'd both like, but we are getting by. We're getting by well enough to pay all the bills, and buy a couch. And were it not for the fact that we blow money on random shit, we wouldn't be struggling at all.

     But it's still not enough. Or at least that's how it feels. Tiff wants money to get by and to blow. I'd like that, too. But the difference here is that she's laying a great deal of stress on having that money, and laying the sole responsibility for it on me. And it's pissing me off. I've spent the past 22 years in a stressful situation. I really do not fucking want to have to cope with another one when it really is not a requirement for my survival. Our ways of dealing with financial... whatever... is totally different. Right now, I would be happy with what we have. It's more than I've had in 10 years. We get by, there's food on the table, and a little extra to blow here and there. We blow more than we ought to, but even if we didn't, we would have it. But Tiff stresses about it constantly, and then stresses me about it... and I know that's just the way she is, but I am really fucking tired of it. I would love if we had the money to blow without having to worry constantly, but that is just not where we are right now.

     And as much as I hate myself for even feeling this way, I really wish Tiff would just fucking accept what we have, and be happy with it until things can work themselves out. Because of the way things are, she's constantly pushing me to find another job, to get more hours, to move on to new things, but I don't fucking WANT to. THIS IS NEW. I am SICK of doing as I'm fucking told. And that's the way it is! With everything, it's do as Tiff says. And I HATE that I feel that way, but I fucking do, and try as I have, I can't fucking help that fact. I tried, I really did, but no matter how much I tried to shove that aside and say to myself that I didn't feel that way, I do. I feel like I've married a parental figure, and that I have to do as I'm told or I'm a horrible naughty child who has to face the wrath of an angry authority figure. And I am Fucking Sick of it. Sick of feeling that way, sick of being in any kind of position that makes me even think such things. I'm just fucking tired. And it's not even the fact that she is how she is, it's the trying not to be stressed and trying to be good enough and to not feel so fucking unhappy all the time. I hate it. I love Tiff, I know I do, and the whole root of my problem isn't even her. It's me. The way I feel, or the way I shouldn't feel, or the way I think I'm supposed to feel... I'm unhappy because I'm unhappy. I don't think I should be, but because I am, I hate myself, and the whole situation. And the problem is that I don't know why I'm unhappy. Sometimes I'm fine. When Tiff is smiling or we're talking or something, but when things go quiet or there's tension in the air... which is almost all the time... I just can't stop wanting to crawl in bed and cry.

     I can't even tell if the things that bother me are things worth being bothered over, and because of that, I don't say anything, and then it just festers. I'm sick of how she tells me to stop when she thinks I'm doing something annoying. I'm sick of how she asks me who I am or when Marcy is coming back when I do something she finds obnoxious or out of the ordinary. I'm sick of how she looks at me like I'm immature and stupid and annoying. I'm just fucking sick. I hate feeling like some kind of obnoxious failure because she doesn't like me the way I am. She doesn't like my habits, the way my thoughts process, the way I speak randomly about random shit, or the fact that I want to have fun. I spent most of my life not having fun and not being myself because I was trapped, and now I'm free of that trap, only to find myself in a different kind of trap. It upsets me that I have to ask permission to do things. That I have to ask permission to have a drink of alcohol. That I have to endure the disapproving air when I have energy drinks or anything else she doesn't approve of. I am willing to compromise because that's what keeps a relationship together... but I feel like I'm the only one fucking bending here. I can get her to compromise on small things, but anything that would change her... I don't even ask for. And I don't want to because I don't want her to have to change. And I sure as hell don't want to have to change either, but I feel like I have to. I feel like I have to sit quiet and contrite lest I bother her in some unforeseen way. I feel... oppressed. Stifled. I don't know. I feel guilty for even feeling that way. But I do.

     And I'm sick of how she talks to me like I'm some kind of idiot child. Like earlier when I asked what we should do with Tilla, if we should just go back to bed or not. And she got this look on her face and this tone in her voice like I was some kind of fucking idiot, and said that she'd only been asleep for two and a half hours, that she was sick and burning up, and that she was going back to bed, and didn't give a shit what I did. Like it's somehow my fucking fault that Tilla got sick, and that she doesn't feel good and hadn't been asleep long. I hadn't been asleep long either. I fell asleep only a few minutes before she came in. And that's only this one instance. She talks to me like that all the fucking time. It doesn't even matter what about, she gets that same tone in her voice, and that same look on her face like I'm just a fucking idiot that needs everything explained real slow... and I'm sick of it. No. I'm more than sick of it. I want it to stop. Everytime she fucking talks to me that way, I want to tell her to go to hell, and I want to leave.

     And I'm really really sick of hearing my mom being ripped apart. I know she should leave my dad. I know she can be a doormat sometimes. I know she should get Talia checked out. She's far from perfect. But I don't care. She's my mother, and I love her despite it all, and I am really fucking tired of hearing how she's a horrible mother and an idiot for not leaving my dad, and I'm also sick of hearing how she can't be trusted and is unreliable. NOBODY can say that shit about her. I do not want to hear it anymore. Sharon isn't exactly the shining example of motherhood either, and she, too, continues to live with her idiot of a husband. But I don't fucking talk shit about her even though she has to have her daughter pay so she can see her, or fit her husband's time-frame allowance to do so.

     I'm sick of all the bullshit. I want it to stop. Because I am really fucking sick of feeling like shit all the time. I hate that when everything is boiled down, all I can feel is unhappy. And I hate that I can't tell whether the unhappiness is because of the financial bullshit, because of Tiff or Me, or medical depression... or if maybe it's because we just don't fit. And what troubles me most is that I can't always rule that last one out. Sometimes I can say beyond any shadow of a doubt that we are meant to be, but at other times... I just don't know. I don't know how any two people can bother each other so much, and still be meant to be. I'm obviously too... fly-away... immature... I don't know. And she's too rigid, and serious, and bossy. On one hand, we should be perfect. Her groundedness to my flight... but as it stands, I feel suffocated and she finds me annoying and childish.

     I don't know... all I know is that things have to change. I really want them to change. I want everything to work out, and I want to be happy. I want to be with the person I fell in love with. But I want to be with that person more than just every now and then. I'm sick of every little thing getting in the way; putting stress on the relationship, and making who we are... or who we were before... just disappear, engulfed in the stress of the moment. Swallowed up in the silence.

     Whatever. I'm done. It's 8am now, and my thoughts have pretty much melted together into one great big blob of gray. I'm not even sure if this little rant makes any sense as it ran from one thing into the next. I can't think anymore. So I'm going to bed.

     Yep, hi. As every one has no doubt noticed, I suck at updating now. It seems like a bad thing, but I've found it's actually a very good thing. Less updates mean that I have less to bitch about which, by proxy, means that life is finally starting to work out the way I want it to. It's truly ironic the way it worked out, too. Right now I'm battling the highest weight I've ever been at, and yet... I can't really remember a time in my life that even begins to compair with the happiness and contentment that I have now.

     The irony doesn't end there, though. I used to think that to find happiness, you had to surround yourself in wonderful things that made it that way. But actually, I got this way by cutting away everything that ever made me unhappy. Stagnant friendships with people I didn't really like, family members who, while greatly loved, brought more stress than happiness, habits, attitudes, everything. I cut all of it away, and got with the one person who didn't cause me a whole lot of stress, and then every thing else just sort of fell into place. I got a job, I'm going to go to school, TJ is going to school, we have our own house that's clean, and we're getting married. We're both finally free of our emotional tormentors, and life just looks fucking awesome.

    Not to mention! We're both off of our meds now. It wasn't medically recommended, but we went off anyway, and now we both seem to be functioning better than ever. I mean, I, a schizoid with serious social anxiety, just got a job as a god damn server, and I'm not panicking over it. I'm actually excited! I think the universe was telling us something. Things just were not going the way we wanted for the longest time there, and the reason being, I think, is because we wanted them to work out without getting rid of the problems in our lives. And then the very instant we got rid of them, *poof*, every thing starts going our way. Her aunt left, and the very next day I got a job. I had been looking before that (not very hard, but still looking), and nothing even remotely promising turned up.

     And to make things better, my eating disorder has come back in full swing. I don't really have to think about losing weight to lose it. I'm down 5 pounds in three days. Much to my amazement because I was still eating. Not much, but I was. And last night I had a ton of soup, and even some ice cream. Low carb ice cream, but still ice cream. But I got up, and I'd lost 2 pounds. And now that I'm working, the weight will fall off like a stripper's clothes! All that walking around, and being around so much food... I won't have an appetite for it.

     But yeah, it's almost 10am now, and TJ is supposed to be getting up so we can go get my work pants and shoes, and then drop by a friend's so we can pay him and his boytoy the $200 we owe them. We bought a bed from them for $200, paid off half, and they also loaned us $100 so I could get my GED. It's awesome, the bed we bought, mattress included, costs about $1400. It's really nice. But he gave it to us for $200.

     Anyway! Thinspo and then I'm off.

Thinspo

Happy happy day!

     Life... fucking ROCKS! Is that not an insanely peculiar thing for me to be saying, or what? TJ's aunt is GONE. Okay, nearly gone. She's coming back on the 4th to get her shit, and put it in storage. She's decided she hates us. Apparently we're abusive to our animals, and we've been living off of her gravy train. In other words she's upset that because she has responsibilities, she can't buy a thousand dollars worth of useless shit every week. She had like $200 worth of bills to pay every month, and she couldn't even manage that. And the reason she says we abuse the animals is because she took several hundred dollars in advances, leaving us without the money to buy dog food. So for two days he was eating cat food. Which when he was little, he used to refuse dog food, and steal the cat's food. But apparently because we were forced to feed him cat food for two days, because of her, we're abusive.

     But anyway! Another reason it rocks... I got a job! I'm working at the Italian Bistro by Walmart. I start on Monday. It's kind of pathetic really, I'll be making minimum wage, but we'll still have more money than we would with her idiot of an aunt who should be making more. But because she keeps blowing the money on stupid shit, and because her wages are being garnished, we were struggling and fighting just to get by.

     But now that I have a job, we'll have enough money to get married here really soon! We have it set for June 3rd. It'll be a piece of cake to have enough by then. We get a $250 rebate from SSI next month, and then a paycheck or two will cover the rest. We've also picked our rings. For the ceremony, we're going to do two plain bands. I'm getting an inscription in mine, and then on our first anniversary, we've picked some absolutely gorgeous rings. Those are waiting until the anniversary because to get them both will cost about $5,000. $3,000 of which we'll get from taxes.

     But yeah!! I need to wrap this up, we have a tornado and a some really bad storms and shit coming through. So I'll post some pics of the rings, and then I'm off!

Mine

TJ's

My Band
"Come What May," is going to be engraved inside.

 

TJ's Band

Currently If You're Not the One By Daniel Bedingfield If You're Not the One see related

If you're not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?

     Long time no update, eh? I'm not particularly great at remaining consistent. Anyway! TJ and I have set two dates! The first being for our wedding, and the second for the reception. They'll be separate for several reasons. The wedding is set for June 6th. We'll be driving up to Iowa to do the legal ceremony, then next year, on April 16th (our current anniversary), we'll have the reception so that my mom has time to save up so she can come down. And eventually, we're going to do the whole big wedding thing... just not until we have a good amount of money (and time with personal trainers) under our belts lol.

     We've also settled on a surname! After much debate... she wanted her father's name (or my maiden name, which I loathe), and I was deadset on having my grandpa's last name. But we realized that neither of us would bend on those, so we settled on something we both could live with: Widows. It's one of her family names.

     We've told pretty much everyone... except her aunt lol. But TJ's mom let it slip to her aunt, and her aunt is pissed because we still haven't told her. And so far, no one but TJ's mom knows that we're actually getting married this year in June. Everyone thinks we're not tying to the knot until next year. And oh, the look will be so priceless when her aunt finds out. Because we don't intend to tell her until after the fact. She'll die of shock. She still thinks she can pull us apart. Lmfao, she actually keeps suggesting that I sleep in the basement in her bed instead of sleeping in mine and TJ's bed.

     We've decided on a new strategy to get rid of her. And so far, it's worked wonders. See, TJ's aunt (who we will be referring to here as Lauren) is extremely anti-intimacy. No sex, no affection, none of that nonsense. And if anyone so much as mentions it, she fumes and throws a hissy fit. Probably because she hasn't been laid in over 40 years. But yeah! She has a tendency to come in our room in the morning. So we're not going to wear anything to bed. She also has a tendency to snoop. So we put mine and TJ's *ahem* "little friends" in the clear nightstand on TJ's side of the bed. And the lube out in the open on my own nightstand. And the box the lube came in? Well, let's just say it's going to conveniently find it's way into the basement where her aunt sleeps...

     We've also changed the answering machine to say that you've reached mine and TJ's residence (as opposed to TJ's and Lauren's residence). So basically, we're playing by Lauren's rules. We're pressing her buttons, and driving her away so that when she leaves, it will have been by her own choosing. And it's working. She's already said that she doesn't feel like she lives here; like she's just a visitor. However, it won't have fully worked until she decides she hates us, and never wants to speak to us again. Which can happen one of two ways. One, she decides for herself that she hates us, or two, she becomes so passive aggressive and vile that we can tell her that we're sick of her bullshit, and tell her that she's not allowed to call anymore. At which point, she'll hate us so much for that alone that she won't bother us anymore. Either way, I'll derive great satisfaction from the whole fiasco.

     Anyway, onto another note! I've finally decided what I want to go to school for! And I'm starting in Fall. I'll be taking the Automotive Technology course at WATC. It's a year long program, there are tons of job openings for it, it pays better than any of the CNA, Nursing, or Technician jobs you can get at the hospital ($17 an hour vs. $9-13 an hour), and most importantly, I love it. And plus, it's a very useful skill to have in day to day life. I've also decided what car I'm getting lmfao. It'll be at least a couple years before I have, it but God damn it, I'm set on having it. Here's a link. Inferno Red Dodge Challenger. Same color, too. They start at $22,000. Which won't be that hard to make payments on once I've finished school. I want black rally stripes on mine though. And I intend to get it fully loaded with a manual transmission, too. Which bumps it up to just under $40,000.

     But yeah... it's been a rather annoying past couple months. After I decided what I was going to school for, everyone started on my case about how that's a bad choice. About how it doesn't pay the bills, and about how I'll hate it. The thing is, no one takes into consideration one important factoid that separates me from them. I'm a fucking lesbian! And I have no kids! Nor any plans or desire to change either fact! $17+ an hour for a fucking lesbian is more than enough to live comfortably. Not to mention the fact that my fiance, and soon to be wife, has her heart set on a career that pays twice what I'd be making. So even if my career choice did turn out to be a flop, we'd still be more than okay! Shit. TJ could easily get a job on the skills she already has in her chosen field without going to school, and she'd still get damn good pay. She's a fucking computer genius. Every single person we know runs to her for all their computer needs. She's restored and fixed countless systems for free. If she were a professional, she'd make hundreds off of just one of those restorations. And that's just the basic shit.

     *sigh* And of course, we've been dealing with the various patronizing elders in our lives. Sometimes I hate being a Capricorn... we have, between the two of us, maybe two friends our own age. Everyone else is old enough to have conceived us both. And that's great in a lot of ways. They're (usually) more mature and less aggravating to deal with. But then you put two young "kids" together who want to get married, and suddenly all those so called friends are looking at each other with knowing glances; all thinking the same thing. "They're making a mistake," "It won't last a year," "Aww, how cute, puppy love," "They'll crack as soon as they realize the responsibilities involved," and of course, "They aren't thinking straight, they're young and in the heat of the moment." What they don't realize is that we already have all the responsibilities of a married couple. We practically are married in everything except paper. And we've already lasted longer than a year. We also have the annoying and sometimes borish chore of being Capricorns on our side. We haven't rushed into anything. Everything we've done and are going to do has been carefully planned out, and thought through so thoroughly that it would make normal people rip their hair out. We planned my move down here for over a year. We plan, down to the last penny, how everything is spent. We plan what we're going to do for the month before the month gets here.We've been planning, discussing, and analyzing the possibility of marriage since day one. If we were any less spontaneous and reckless, we'd be clumps of dirt.

     Now, don't get me wrong. There's plenty of spark, and spontaneity, but we're not fucking idiots. Annoying as it is to hear it, we are Capricorns. And Capricorns age backwards. It won't be until we're well aged that we start acting like a couple of stupid kids. We haven't yet reached our partying age, and when we get there, we'll have the luxury of many years of stability and a good horde of cash to spend having the fun that ruins a lot of young people's lives. Work and then play might sound boring to a lot of people, but work and then play tends to equal more to play with. And to be quite honest, I'd rather make all my stupid decisions that could fuck up my life once most of said life has been put behind me. The last thing I want is to be a 22 year old pregnant alcoholic, whose addicted to God only knows what kind of drugs, with the thrilling prospect of 18+ years of miserable single parenthood ahead of me. Or worse, 18+ years of parenthood with a piece of shit husband that I never even liked in the first place, but had no choice but to marry because I couldn't keep my legs shut. In other words, I don't want to be my ex-girlfriend or one of my cousins. Nah. I'd rather live my life right first, and then fuck it up later.

     But yeah, anyway. I got my scholarship for the Y here in Wichita. Which kicks ass because the YMCA here has everything from an indoor track to run on to a bunch of water parks to choose from. The gym equipment is insane, there are multiple gyms, personal trainers, several fitness classes ranging from karate to dance, several olympic size pools for laps, fun pools to just fuck around in, and of course all the sporty shit like tennis, basketball, racquet ball, volleyball, etc. And all of it, except the personal trainer, is included in membership. And to sign up for special programs, I get 80% off the regular rates. And they even have onsite physicians to monitor bloodwork and everything else, as well as a nutritionist to give you a diet plan to go with your exercise plan. Like I'd ever use the nutritionist, but that's cool anyway. I can't wait to get started.

     TJ and I have put aside a fund. Everytime we feel the urge to spend money to go out and binge or whatever, we take the money, and put it aside for the wedding. We're also printing off a bunch of thinspo to put all over our fridge. And most of our exercise equipment is in the livingroom so we can use it when we watch TV. I've also stopped taking my antidepressants...

     It's rather interesting actually. I didn't realize how fucking insane I am without them. I am so easily aggravated without them. I have horrible mood swings, happy and chipper one minute, depressed and angry the next. For no reason at all. And yet, I can deal with that better than I could the depression that came much less often with my Celexa. That depression couldn't be accounted for. It just came. This, I can at least say, is normal. It's just the chemicals in my head working themselves into a fit. And! I can live with that. Why? Because I realized something else. The Celexa... it takes away my eating disorder. I binge, and don't feel so bad about it. I can justify being fat. I tell myself I can live with it. That it's okay.

     But when I don't take it, I know that it's not. It's not okay, and I cannot live with it. Now, just buying bad food makes me hate myself. I couldn't understand what had happened. Before I didn't know why I suddenly didn't care quite so much that I was fat. And then I stopped taking them, and the ED came back full force and with the vengeance of a woman scorned. And while I can sit on the couch, and fucking loathe myself with every fiber of my being, so much that I want to just rip out my stomach with my bare hands... it's such an incredible comfort and relief to have it back. And I am willing to deal with the self-loathing, the mood swings, the insomnia, the lack of energy, the OCD, the wanting to kill everyone who rubs me even slightly the wrong way... all of it. Just so I can keep the comfort and motivation of the eating disorder. I don't care about any of it. Just let me starve. Let me binge, purge, and fight with myself over every little morsel of food. Let my weight go through the roof, then drop 15 pounds in a week. Let my heart race, my head spin, and my stomach cramp. I don't care.

Music

If you’re not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?
If you’re not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?
If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call
If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all

I'll never know what the future brings
But I know you're here with me now
We’ll make it through
And I hope you are the one I share my life with

I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand
If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

If I don’t need you then why am I crying on my bed?
If I don’t need you then why does your name resound in my head?
If you’re not for me then why does this distance maim my life?
If you’re not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?

I don’t know why you’re so far away
But I know that this much is true
We’ll make it through
And I hope you are the one I share my life with
And I wish that you could be the one I die with
And I pray in you’re the one I build my home with
I hope I love you all my life

I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand
If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

‘Cause I miss you, body and soul so strong that it takes my breath away
And I breathe you into my heart and pray for the strength to stand today
‘Cause I love you, whether it’s wrong or right
And though I can’t be with you tonight
You know my heart is by your side

I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand
If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am
Is there any way that I could stay in your arms

Thinspo

Anybody home? Nobody home? Good-bye pants!

     So yeah. I'm fasting today. And if I do eat anything it will be low carb. I'm tired of looking at the scale. And tired of my once loose jeans being snug. Not a happy situation. I've been taking vitamins, started on fiber, and I'm going to take tums and laxies here shortly. I'm also going to start a University of Ednos program on Monday. I'm not enrolling though. I'm just gonna do the program because I want to be able to switch around between majors. TJ is also gonna do one with me. It should be fun.

     Anyway, TJ's aunt is going to be home on Saturday. She just left a couple days ago, and she's coming back. I'm not looking forward to it. No, that's an understatement. I'm dreading it with ever fiber of my being. We have no idea how long she's gonna be back. Two days... a week. It doesn't matter. Two hours throws the entire energy of the household out of wack. It's a damn good thing I have several years of dissociation and acting under my belt. I don't think a normal person could pull off acting nice.

     But yeah... we got a car. A '93 Isuzu Rodeo. It kicks ass. The only exterior damage is a little bit of hail damage on the hood that you can't even see unless you're in the cab. The interior is in perfect condition, and it runs beautifully. The only thing wrong with it is a blown headlight. It's a 5 speed with a V6 and 4WD. It's kind of sad, actually. We got a '93 4WD SUV, and it runs smoother and quieter than the piece of shit little Ford her aunt has. And we only paid a fraction of what her aunt paid. $2070 with tax. And we got a pretty sweet deal on insurance, and because it's older, tags are cheaper. And my ticket is paid off so I'll be getting my license here really soon. Or rather, my permit... because I still don't know how to drive a manual well enough to pass the driving test.

     But yeah... onto thinspo and off with me.

Thinspo