Yesterday I met with the nice lady at the Department of Rehabilitation and we got things moving. She put in a referral for me with Foster’s, who will put me through the ringer in a few weeks to help find out just what I would be good at. It’s 5 full days of testing, interviews, questions… To check out every aspect of my work ethic, abilities, stamina, and beyond. I’m excited, but I also terrified because Omg what if I curl up and die midway through the testing?
But I’m trying not to dwell on that. In a couple weeks, it’ll happen, and it’s going to hopefully go smoothly.
She also gave me a few leads to follow up on on my own. One is the aerospace program at AVC and I also going to look into what it takes to become a professional piercer.
After that, I went by my therapist’s office to sign some papers, and I agreed to become a member of the advisory committee for the Department of Mental Health. Eek! If it’s too much for me or I hate it, I can always drop out, and it’s only once a month.
Tonight, after everyone was asleep, I took a shower. And while I was in there, I realized showering is recently a much more complex affair then it was two months ago. I have antibacterial soap to cleanse my numerous new piercings. I have facial cleanser to wash away the day’s makeup. I have body wash for the rest of my skin. I have an expensive tar shampoo to wash my hair and soothe my scalp. And after I get out, I have a fancy, delicious smelling coconut oil conditioner to work into my hair to make it smooth and shiny and soft. And that’s not even counting if I’m shaving – then there’s soap and razors. Maybe baby oil to rub over my skin afterwards.
Makeup. The day’s makeup. I went literally years without a touch of it on my face and now I’m wearing it almost every day because I feel beautiful with it on. My new piercings. 6 total in the last ten weeks because they make me feel pretty with more planned.
I’ve purchased jewelry that I’m actually wearing. I signed up for Ipsy. I bought nail polish twice in recent weeks and I’ve done my nails 3 times in the last week. My hair is currently in curling rods in the hopes of having fabulous cascading curls tomorrow when I wake up.
My next body mod will be a small tattoo that will be a reminder that I have value and I am worthy of so many things – love, good health, friendship, family, good things in my life. This is a thing I have a problem with and I often forget but I’m working on it with my therapist and all these things above are signs of progress. I feel good about myself for the first time in at least 6 years. I feel WORTHY of self – care for the first time in longer than I can remember.
Depression is a mother fucking bitch. You lose track of what’s important (yourself) and you stop believing in your WORTH. Even with medication, my environment was still a big determiner of how I felt about myself. Getting away from my ex was the best thing I could have done for myself and I only regret not doing it sooner.
I woke up Thursday and I was excited. I was going to call Adam, the piercer I was going to use, make an appointment, and get my nipples pierced.
But I wasn’t able to reach Adam so I called the shop. They told me he was out of the country until the 9th. Annoying because he never mentioned this to me when we were supposedly making plans to pierce me.
I ended up calling around and going to the piercer at Hottie Body instead. Stephanie was fast, gentle, and professional.
She had me lie down on the table and pull my shirt and bra up. Then as she prepped me, she told me everything she was doing. I was so nervous I was literally kind of numb.
She cleaned my nipple, and told me to take a deep breath. Right as I was about to exhale, she did the piercing, and slipped in the bar. I yelled “shit fuck ow!” but then it was over.
She moved around to my other side, repeated the process, and it was done before I could really process it. I was more prepared for the pain the second time, so I just kind of whimpered “owie” on that one.
But it’s done and today, I’m sore, but its not awful. And the whole thing was actually less painful than I was expecting it to be.
Now I just have to wait for them to heal.
I’m not really angry anymore, but I am contemplating unfriending Mattie on Facebook, and his mom too. My curiosity got the better of me, and I went trolling back to his posts when he announced our breakup. There was rather a lot of shit talking, which amounted to me being a crazy bitch, a terrible cook (his mother agreed on this even though she’s never eaten my cooking?), and there were comments about how at least I wouldn’t be trying to poison him any longer. Granted, I said some things here, but I did not post things like that where he was likely to see them nor did I encourage my friends to badmouth him. I asked him on Saturday for space- and he hasn’t respected that at all so far because he’s still sending me messages and chattering away at me just like nothing had happened. He’s refusing to respect my “no” and that’s not okay.
At the urging of a friend, I joined FetLife, which is a rather interesting place. Basically its Facebook for fetistists/kinksters. Creating my profile was interesting, as has been browsing the site in general. I found a few people I know right off, which honestly, while nice, was not a surprise. Some of the people I found I’m quite fond of, while others… well, I won’t be communicating with them there, either. But such is social networking, right?
I think I’ve lost a few pounds over these last few weeks, though not because I was trying. If I’ve been out of the house, I’ve eaten once per day, and at home, maybe twice, and half the time its been salad. I just don’t have an appetite most days. Am I depressed? I’m honestly not sure. On the surface I feel pretty good- I’m free of the confines of the unhappiness of my last relationship, and I can do what I want now. I can focus on making myself happy, instead of someone who can’t be happy no matter what I did. I’m free to branch out, meet new people, pursue what I like, and say no to what I don’t. But at the same time, I’m unhappy at having to have had to move back to my mom’s. This is not my home. I honestly don’t know where home is at this point and I feel somewhat unmoored.
I saw my psychologist yesterday and I requested a refill on my Klonopin Rx. I still have several left, but I like having it just in case. I took one every night the week we broke up, but haven’t touched them since. And I’ve been working off of the same 30 tablets for over a year so its not like I just take them all the time.
Today I was supposed to meet with County Mental Health’s Employment Specialist, but I cancelled and rescheduled my appointment for after the first. I messed up my finances pretty badly this month and I don’t have gas money to make trips I absolutely don’t have to into town. I sold some stuff at the beginning of the month, and I had less expenses, but between paying off some small debts and eating in town a lot, I managed to overspend for the month and now I’m counting pennies until next month’s money comes in. Next month will be better though. I just need to track my spending better and stick to my budget. I can do this.
I also saw Princess yesterday and we hung out for a little while. It was nice to see her and nicer to see she’d gotten rid of her husband. Seems to be a lot of that going around. She’s looking fabulous though and the kids- OMG! The girl is 14 now and beautiful, and the oldest boy is 6 foot and trying to learn to play guitar. I was like damn it. I feel so old seeing them as closer to adulthood then babyhood.
I did get most of my stuff tucked away into the spare room, so I can say most of my belongings have been put up. There’s still a few things laying around the house, but its still progress made. And my mom is making an effort (finally) to clean up the rest of the house. She’s sent me into town with 4 kitchen trash bags full of stuff to be donated, and thrown away a bunch more. Of course there’s still a ton to go through but any progress is good. I still need to get her to take in the old electronics to the drop off and that would clear out a lot of space in the house. But baby steps….
And I got rid of almost half of my yarn! Stuff I wasn’t completely in love with I sold, with a few more still to go. It made a big difference in getting things put away.
I’ve apparently reached the post-break-up ranty/angry stage. Is this a thing? I honestly don’t know.
I’ve been sitting here and all I can think about is all the shit I have dealt with over the last 8 years…. culminated by the fact he couldn’t even tell me the full truth during the “let’s break up” talk.
Did I tell you all what he told me was the reason he wanted to split up? Because his friends say he’s no fun with me around. Ironic because since we’ve split up, he asked me to finish handling the final buyout invoice submission on the security system fiasco (yes, some of you might remember that?), I had to make the phone calls and find a vet who would help us let Lucy go yesterday morning, and after that he asked me to fix the vacuum because it was making a funny noise. My friend said “Oh so he wants to be friends with benefits, where the benefit is you keep handling his shit.”… ironic because he wants to use me now to avoid adulting… when I made him no fun for expecting him to act like an adult.
And now I’m just like why did I stay? If I had friends over and they weren’t his friends/there to amuse him, he was downright rude about them being there. He was volatile- at home he was either sullen and brooding, or flying into rages over the tiniest thing, screaming, yelling, and throwing things. I was afraid to get up to pee half the time it because it might cause a distraction from whatever he was using and make him angry. He threw full blown tantrums in public.
I was expected to keep the house spotless, provide him with meals, and remain silent and unseen except for when called upon. He never lifted a finger to help me with anything because he had a job, so I was being ridiculous to expect him to do anything around the house too.
I spent 8 years with the most strict vanilla sex with no variation and this is me, who needs a little (more than a little?) kink. He couldn’t figure out how to pull hair, spank, and anything other then straight PnV sex in missionary or me on top was out of the question. Foreplay was a foreign language he couldn’t bother to learn. Toys freaked him out and he was upset by the idea I might masturbate. And he was almost always in and done before I was really ready, so I can’t even remember the last time I orgasmed with him. And that dull, soulless sex was maybe once a month… He never once made out with me. Kissing seems to be on his “this is gross” list.
I’m angry now because I let myself become closed off from my friends and I stopped looking after my needs to cater to him even though it was not good for me. I’m angry because I wasted 8 years on a man-child who couldn’t look past his own narcissistic personality to actually treat me with respect and love. I’m angry because a million reasons and I can;t even articulate them. I’m just angry.
In the last few weeks, I’ve thrown away or donated roughly half of my possessions. I took my desk out of my room and got the TV stand from Mattie’s bedroom to take its place. It takes up a lot less room and ofers still more storage then I need. I got my uke stand into my room, with all my ukes and my uke bass on it, save for the little green one that I am giving to Ashley and Rowan on Tuesday. I’m trying to encourage my mom to throw things away, get rid of clutter, and in general clean up the house. I need to look up where the electronics recycling place is so we can take all kinda of stuff in and get rid of it for good- she is basically hoarding broken electronics because she thinks it costs money to dispose of them. Nope. Its free. Just gotta take them in. I’ve listed several of my books for sale that I’m just not going to use. I’m trying to sell about 50 skeins of yarn I’m just not in love with. There’s just so much stuff that I/we don’t need.
I’ve got a super busy week next week and I hope getting out will be good for me. But I’m so tired from holding my shit together and trying to be productive and I miss having a body next to me at night when I’m sleeping. I miss my dog. I miss Mattie. This shit is hard. I know its for the best, but fuck.
My bedroom is almost as good as its going to get. Once the floor is done in the other room, I can put the yarn that’s currently in my closet away, and the stuff on top of the Cedar chest can go into the closet.
Ideally I would also like to find a smaller desk.
I did a lot today in terms of purging things and it felt pretty good.
Things are looking a bit better now. Part off the bed is exposed as is about half the floor.
Next step is to get my dresser in here and put the bags of clothes away.