So this is Christmas... I don't remember right after that. Anyways I hope that everyone is having an enjoyable night/day whatever. No matter where you are or who you are with. I hope the best for you during this holiday season and in the year to come. I noted on the Facebook page that I would explain what "matching my socks" means to me. Well, it all started when I read a meme that suggested the reader date a girl who doesn't where matching socks.
I don't know exactly when stopped caring about my socks matching. I always did my best to make sure they coordinated with my outfit. Most of the time it worked. I don't like wearing white socks with all black. I grew up coordinating my outfits from a yearly age. My shoes, my socks, shirt, let's just say everything. Yep. I liked things organized and in a particular place. I liked knowing where stuff was. But, if you ask my mom, she'd let you know I still lost things and she still had to help me find them. Or, more correctly, make me look again. I still have that problem. I could be looking dead at something and not see it. I think it's psychological, maybe. Maybe too much stress or something. I was an only child, but I had a lot to deal with. I think being the only child of a single parent has it's own stresses let alone everything else that was going on. I didn't talk much about my life with my mom. She knew who my best friends were. She knew who my teachers were. She took care of me and we did things together, I just didn't want to worry her or something. The point is I created my own independence. I was protective of her and took care of her and myself. She did mommy things. I was just naturally that way. That can be good, it can be bad. She tells me a story of me picking up something off the floor while she was cooking. She kept things clean, including me. She told me she had a doctor tell her I was the cleanest baby he'd ever seen. I even wore cloth diapers. My grandmothers taught me how to clean, but my mom was the one who helped me most. My school desks, lockers, bedroom all organized and in order, my life
seemed to be in order. There was routine and family experiences I wish we all still enjoyed. But then there was the other side, my personal life. The things in this blog and things not in this blog.
Now, back to matching my socks. Lately, my life has taken a turn, well, let's say it's going in a way I did not expect. I wasn't ready for the responsibility of being an adult or being on my own. I learned some things growing up, but it's like I forgot or something. I was a child. I don't know exactly when things stopped being organized. I believe it happened not too long ago. After leaving the church, I was conflicted and confused. I was losing my faith in God and really not sure what to feel or think. I came back home after living in another city and helping to plant a church there. I worked a lot, yet was broke. Gave a lot of my time and money to the church and the other members. Anyways, I lived with other single female members in a roommate situation that was okay. When I moved back home, I finally was able to move into my own place. Got my furnishings from an auction and got help moving in. Held a house warming. Had no visitors after all that. I still enjoyed my space. My family and friends got me great gifts. The apartment people were nice. It was nice and quiet. I was adjusting. Then, being the nice, loving, sucker I could be, I invited my troubled "best friend" to come to town and live with me. Well I hadn't been there long and still had my lease to live out. So, she slept on the couch and I was able to borrow a bed for me to sleep in my room. I took care of her while she looked for work. I helped her get a job and she drove my car. We drove her home at least once a month in the new to me car I'd gotten when I moved back, for a year, until her family moved here. Over 600 miles a month, not including driving in the metro. We finally moved into a two bedroom. Somewhere I was finding my own way, she let me know she felt I we were growing a part. I don't remember what happened, but she got her friends that did more of what she did at home. I had friends, but they are now her friends, she's not my friend. Her family and mine got close, we are not close anymore. Her animals tore up my beautiful furniture, etc. they left fleas behind. I was so angry and the guys I was coming across were not like the ones in the church. My life was about to spiral. I had decided I didn't believe in God anymore. I moved out of that apartment after waking up to a single lamp coming on in the middle of the night by itself. I was going to live with another roommate, a family member
whom I also deemed one of my best friends.
I was rejected by one guy after another, whether I liked them, or they decided I wasn't worth the struggle or something. I tried to take care of my home and believe that someone would actually hold to their end of the bargin. Things don't always go as plan. I got tired of cleaning up after people who really didn't give a shit about me or what was going on in my life. They just wanted to party and sleep and make a mess. I won't go into everything. But I stopped cleaning up after them. Didn't keep food, because I didn't want them eating all my food. I didn't have a lot. Somewhere I got snobby and thought at least that I had more money and that was good, but I really didn't. I don't know where that came from. Then in hit my room and bathroom. I went to school and had more stress and a disaster area occurred. My heart was broken. I hated everything and everyone and did not know God anymore. I did believe again. I was being pulled from every direction. Paying for stuff for others when I was on medical leave of absence, when my mother had to help me. Going to my "best friends" wedding when I didn't even know her anymore. So I left. I did okay there for a while, until I started to feel unwanted, and that same "best friend" and her husband no longer had any respect for me left. Again heartbroken and lost, I started fighting everything I knew. I tried to get my work life in order and got in trouble the day of my review for staying late and cleaning and getting mad because I was in trouble. It kept me from getting the raise I deserved. Things were strange there. The devil was working in my household. I took my anger out on my bird, which I'd never done before on any animal and never plan to do again. That apartment was my favorite. It stayed good until the last 2 weeks before I moved back home. My birdy was already at my grandmothers and I missed her. I didn't realize I was so depressed because I really didn't want to come back. I wasn't ready. I started messing up at work and not taking care of myself. I wasn't winning. There were forces at work I couldn't control, but they don't deserve the attention.
Today, I realize that when things are going bad now, everything goes bad. When I'm involved with things I don't want to be involved my heart is broken, I am stressed and everything is a hot mess. It got so bad this time I stopped seeing it and being able to do something about it. I stopped caring about what other people think, I stopped matching my socks. I even bought mismatched socks that coordinated. I've pretended a long time to be carefree. But after my accident, I can't handle the anxiety any more. The stress is too much. I am scared. Scared for a lot of reasons of a lot of things. But, after going to wore with at least one mouse, I started to see. The papers, the dirt on the floor, the dishes in the sink, the boxes waiting to be unpacked. Despite my limitations something had to be done. I am the only one who can do it. I had someone, who I thought was a friend, just stop talking to me in the midst of things. I'm tired of losing, of having my heart broken. I wanted to be married 19 years ago with kids within 3 years of that. I've given a lot of myself to others. I stopped writing and I wanted to start again, so here I am. Trying once again to get my shit together. I don't even cuss. But that's about it. My health is worse now, both physically and mentally. I am so broke and I don't want ask for anything more than what I am getting. Nobody buys anything that I am trying to sell, no matter where the donation is going. I don't even want to continue with my "Stop the Cycle of Violence and Neglect" campaign. I stopped going to my survivors group even for the short time I tried to drive again. I feel better in the house, getting things organized. Here I can control the chaos. I try to control what I do, I'm still healing and can not afford physical therapy. I had neck surgery. I don't like getting too personal on here, but I just had to get it out. I can't help my mom like she needs me to and I don't know what else to do outside of what I am doing already. I just pray this blog helps others. So, merry christmas. I'm not even going to check this over. Much love.
I'm am not a licensed