I was bad

I didn’t go to belly-dancing on Monday.  2 reasons.  1, I needed the money that would have been the class entrance fee for gas.  The ‘extra’ money in my paycheck went to Christmas presents.  I’m okay with that, I just really need to start paying more attention to this kind of stuff.  On the upside, yes my savings ticker did go up by the required amount so my goal is still (mostly) on track. …I’m beginning to understand why I never do anything with my life.  I’m very much an ‘in the now’ person and while I like planning for the future, I’m apparently not very good at getting from point A to point B.  Second reason, well, depression.  I wanted to go, I said I’d go, then time to go to class came and I just couldn’t get myself in the car to go.  Afterwards I found out about #1 and was a little relieved I didn’t go after all.

My fatass also hasn’t gone to the gym like I kept saying I would.  I pay $30/month to go to the gym once a month…that’s pathetic.  I could have gone tonight, hell I could still go but instead I’d rather lay in bed and read, which is what I spent my evening doing actually.  Eventually here I need to sleep because I will be helping with the cooking.  Maybe I’ll drag myself to the gym tomorrow after feeling like a complete pig from eating all that food.  Maybe I’ll find my floor again and start doing my at-home workouts again too.  My resistance bands are gathering dust at this rate.  I really am the world’s worst mover.

"Damn, damn, damn, what I’d do to have you here." ~Wish you were here, Avril Lavigne

This song (among others) have been on my rotation for a while on Spotify (btw, Spotify is great, you should google that).

The holidays are approaching and it’s…I don’t know if it’s helping or hurting but it’s…making me move.  A little bit but movement is still movement right?

Helpful: I am being reminded of how far I’ve come on my own two feet.  Reminded how many blessings I do have.  Reminded that the spirit of the season is of love shared.

Hurtful:  How far I am from where I want to be, where I planned to be.  How far I have to go to get anywhere.  He-who-shall-not-be-named (as my aunt deemed him haha) is supposedly coming home at some point in December/January.  I may have to deal with that rather than just continuing to try and piece my life back together.  I don’t know how I feel about it.  I don’t know if I want a confrontation, if I want him to grovel and beg to come back, what I’d do if he did beg, if I want to just ignore him…wondering if I’ll have any of those options, if I’ll even know that he’s back. 

I’m still crying almost every night.  I’m still so lonely and still so hurt that I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes.

And my dreams are not helping.

I keep dreaming about a guy.  The last several nights there is this man in my dreams who does all the right things, says the right things, he’s not perfect, he screws up but he’s so...right somehow.  It feels right in my dreams.  And I always end up with a ring on my finger.  Not an engagement ring, just a simple promise ring with an emerald in it.  The emerald isn’t important, the importance is the reason for the emerald.  There is a poem that I love and that I often think of when I’m trying to stay positive.

GREEN IS THE COLOR OF HOPE

Green is the color of hope,
once someone told me;
esperanza, she said, in the quick
tongue of her youth.

Today I clothe myself in green–
her verde of lambent Springs,
an honest forest green,
shades of shamrock, moss, the sea in storm–
all green, from head to foot;
and for a modest bit of fancy, jade.

Today I see you again.
We shall speak of our old attachment,
seated formally in shade beneath green trees.
And I shall watch your eyes–
green, I remember–
for some small sign.  Today I dress in hope.

I own quite a few shades of green (sadly not a lot of green jewelry although now I’m rethinking that deficiency) in my wardrobe, mostly t-shirts and a few hoodies.  I think I’m going to invest in more.  Well, I’m sure you can see where the emerald came from but the thing is, until these dreams I’d never liked emeralds (I still don’t really), they’ve always been my mom’s ‘jewel’, it’s her birth stone and I’ve never really liked it.  But he looked at me when I asked him "Why an emerald?" and said it was because he wanted there to always be hope in our relationship, the he wanted me to have hope in him, in us, to believe in our relationship.  He quoted that poem to me which was apparently him quoting it back to me from a previous point in our friendship.

I don’t know if it’s my subconscious or the Ptb trying to tell me not to give up, trying to make me remember why I was willing to fall in love in the first place.  But truthfully, it’s far too little, much too late.  I don’t know if I really want hope anymore.  I seem to only ever get hurt when I get my hopes up.  So what good is hope in this situation?  What go

od is it to hold out hope that I’ll get that partner, that love that is worth risking for?  I’ve asked the universe all my life to give me that sort of love, to give me a partner who’d be strong and gentle, sweet and fierce and make him mine.  I’ve never gotten it.  I’ve had to watch undeserving skanks get it handed to them without working for it, without earning the right to it, without going through even a quarter of the heartache I’ve suffered for it.  They just have it fall in their laps and that’s insult to injury.  And I watch deserving people settle for far less than they deserve because they are so desperate to be happy and in love and they get tired of holding out hope for ‘something more’ from love.

So no, Universe, I’m not listening to you, I’m not going to give in and hope that maybe things will be different.  Fuck you and fuck (romantic) love.  Keep it because the (romantic) love you bring into my life isn’t worth having.  It isn’t worth all of the fucking scars I already have to bear on my poor battered and broken heart.  And yes, a broken heart does keep beating, but it hurts like fucking hell so you wish you were dead instead.

Tomorrow I will bring that damned desk over here and set up my crafting corner.  I’ll be so damned glad when classes are over.  Not because I am tired of classes but I’m tired of spending all of my days off focusing what little energy I have on homework and tests.  I do nothing on my days off because what little desire or drive I manage to dredge up against the depression has to be funneled into my classes just to keep from failing…and I may still fail calculus because I can’t find the energy to give a shit about it!  It’s killing me.  I love school, I love learning, I love go to class.  Or I used to, I should.  I always have but I just don’t have it in me now.  

Tomorrow the desk.  Sunday, maybe, getting back to the things that make me happy (depending on how far I get on the test between now and then, yes I have a take-home test for over the holiday ‘break’).  My goal (along with saving money) is to make my own bodice for the trip to NC next year.  I have lots of patterns and fabric and even the boning and grommets.  It’s just a matter of setting up my crafting corner and setting myself to work.  I think I’ll start on scrap fabric (still cute-ish scrap fabric so that I won’t consider a total waste if I do a decent job on the first one) before I work up to a truly faire-worthy one to match my garb.  I think I’ll also work on more jewelry.  My next thing I think will be a ‘pirate/gypsy’ kind of belt. I’ll post pictures another time of what I’m aiming for because it’s hard to explain (I’ve tried).

I’m also kind of excited because Kay came home for the holiday and I haven’t seen her since September.  It’ll be nice to get to spend some time with her hopefully tomorrow afternoon after all the family festivities.  Her beau came up too but I’m okay with that, the guy has proven himself in my eyes to be a keeper and I’m happy for her.  I truly hope it lasts.

Okay, rambling, 5am and I NEED to sleep at least a few hours before things get into full gear for the day.

Did I mention my only day off next week is Sunday?  Because yeah, I might be kind of tired by next weekend.

Did I also mention that apparently the bar has decided that karaoke is not working with their plans anymore so this Friday is the last night for it?  Yeah, Kel has to figure out where he’s going to go next with the karaoke/dj thing now and I don’t think he’s got anything lined up so it may be a while between my excursion into public now.  After Friday, without karaoke, my next trip out into public is watched the WWE payperview at Gradys Dec. 18.  Kid you not.  Well maybe not totally true, I’m trying to go to a big ice skating trip to Richmond with some of the girls but (as usual) finances are a pivotal factor in that so it will depend on my paycheck the day before.

See, this is why I say, life kicks me when I’m down and why I just might as well stay on the fucking floor.  It’s minor shit but it was MY shit, it was MY outlet, my chance to get out of the house and away from my stress for a few hours a week.  Now it’s gone…

Story of my life.