Question Of The Day

When presented with possibility of death, we often start to see all that we are missing or afraid of not doing before that impending date. Like what does it matter of things I acquire in life? I can’t take them with me. What of all the photos I snap to capture memories? I won’t be able to hold onto those forever. What of the experiences, and the imprint I feel obligated to leave on the world before I go?

What is your meaning? Your purpose?

A lot of us may still be figuring it out; I know I am.

Time Traveler Story Concept

I’m a pessimist. I don’t believe in happily ever afters or “magic.” Maybe it was the harsh wake-up call of my upbringing that shook off this innocence of believing

I once had, or maybe growing up does that to you. “Wear this necklace Ari, and one day when you really need us… it will guide you to where you need to be.”
My grandmother said this as she gently clasped a silver chain at the nape of my neck, and nestled comfortably right where my collarbones met was a music note.
I haven’t taken it off since. That was 9 years ago.

Music is my safe space. My first love I guess you might say.
I don’t date and I definitely don’t like the social scene required to meet the heathens of my age range.
I have my friends, family, books, and then I have music.
Music keeps me company and takes me back in time to where nothing has ever been wrong.
No tears, no scars, no bad memories… just me and those lyrics.
My friends say I’m going to be a famous songwriter one day… that my words are magic.
I don’t believe in magic; I just want to spend all day with the music.
My grandparents wanted me to be a writer, they said it was my calling, that my talent was beyond all else.
Now that they are gone I feel a lot more lost than I thought I would be, but I want to keep my promise to them… to follow my dreams.
I touch the music note that rests against my skin, and it feels warm against my palm.
“Guide me to where I’m meant to be.” I whisper to myself as I walk to my bedroom window.

It’s snowing now, as it should be, since it’s December.
I’ve come to despise this month, with all it’s cheer and Christmas nuisance.
When they both passed within days of one another; I just couldn’t handle it anymore.
I had to leave Pennsylvania and go back home to Georgia and see my family to deal with my problems.
It wasn’t right, losing both of them before they could see me graduate college with a degree in English.
It took me a long time before I was ok with even saying I was ok.
I’m not quite sure I ever lost that “unsure” feeling.
I miss them, and I’d give anything to see them again, even for a day.
I turn away from the window, wishing time would either reverse or speed up.
Wishing this whole month would just be obliterated off the calender completely.

Bloom

It wasn’t that I wasn’t flattered by the flattery

I just knew it was fleeting… temporary

A bee never stays on one flower for long

He sees me now as a beautiful bloom

Just like a bee, he’ll move on as I lose my petals and begin to wither

What to do, what to do

I’ve tried everything with my roommate… I’ll call her “Jan” for the sake of her privacy.

Jan is a BIG pile of forgetful laziness. Or she just doesn’t care and doesn’t want to help out; I often think it’s a combo of both.

Jan likes to get the mail but leave the trash bin at the end of the driveway, it’s LITERALLY less than 7 steps away from the mailbox. Like come on. Jan also likes to get stuff out of drawers and not close them, never take the trash out (to the point it literally overflows if I wait on her) she won’t sweep the kitchen, clean her bathroom, wipe down counters or the area she eats on, and heck; I don’t think she cleans her room, it reeks every time she opens the door.

All in all this makes Jan sound like a slob hey? I try not to use that word because it is so ugly sounding, but perhaps it’s true.

Yes; I’ve asked her to do things, little things. When we talk she promises to get better about cleaning and behold! She will, for like a day, and barely… she cleans the bathroom sink (not the entire bathroom) and then she’s done. She will consistently do her dishes but they will stack up and stink first before she does them. I’ve tried being looser, calmer, more laid back to not let it get to me, but I’m not wired in such a way for messiness to not bother me. Heck, it got so heated with snippy notes and attitudes my aunt (our landlord) had to mediate between us and she STILL hasn’t changed. I basically took all the heat when the blame really landed on her.

Oh, and the excuses… her work schedule, like we all don’t have aches and pains and tough days. Am I right? She recently started anxiety medication and uses that as a shield for her lack of responsibility too, citing mental health difficulties and “I’m having very tough times right now.” Again, aren’t we all? As one who suffers from more than one mental health ailment; I get it, but with her, how do you know for sure what is truth and what is manipulation?

If it were my choice; I’d evict her. Technically it is my choice, always has been… but my aunt needs her rent money and unless she leaves I can’t search for someone else to take her place. Plus with me going back to college in a few months; I don’t really have the time nor energy to invest in that project. Eventually I’m just going to snap… and then maybe she’ll leave of her own accord… who knows.

OMG… this was more of a vent post, but I had to get it out!! I am so annoyed! I spend all day dealing with difficult people and then I gotta come home and do it? Heck no!

Short & Sweet

I once was a girl who was afraid of change

Then I hopped into a truck full of luggage and made my way down to Georgia *cue the violins*

Then it got boring for awhile. 13 years to be exact

2020 happened. All hell broke loose

2021 is here. I decided I needed some change

I cut my hair short… it’s cute and red now

I’m going back to college in the summer!

Changes are good for the soul. I feel great

The end

Heart of Stone?

I knew it might take time after she died for me to deal, process, grieve, get a handle on the reality that now the Devil on my shoulder was eternally gone from this Earth… but it’s been over a year and I haven’t. What’s wrong with me? I’m asking all who have lost someone, and maybe selectively a target audience of losing a toxic or abusive parent. IF there are any of you out there.

While therapy remains in motion, and my medications are doing a great job of keeping my mental health stable; I can’t move forward from a loss that I honestly thought wouldn’t impact me in any sort of profound way. It is though. It’s causing mental blocks, affecting my writing (my story is at a complete stand-still) and it feels as if all my emotions are on low volume or mute. Like I don’t cry anymore, even if something triggers me. I plan to ask my psychiatrist about it tomorrow but after months and months on my meds; I’m sure it’s not them. An issue like that usually presents itself early on, not almost a year in.

It’s emotional and mental… like a shutdown cause I’m not dealing with a major issue that’s been sitting on the back burner for too long and now it’s charred beyond recognition. Is my heart made of stone? Because part of me was relieved this demon was finally gone? So I could finally relax and not worry about her showing up one day and us having a battle to the death? Let’s face it, my mother and I in one room would only result in one walking out alive, not both.

She took my childhood from me, my teenage years, and then even my 20’s in a way cause I was so late to the starting gate that finally now in my 30’s I finally feel like I’m not constantly running at the end of the race… maybe somewhere in the middle. She was evil, mean, abusive, and downright manipulative. A true narcissist to the core, and never missed a beat on those death threats when she was really in a mood. So why grieve someone like this? Just because she was a parent to me? So she maybe once upon a time wasn’t terrible for five seconds when I was but a mere infant… not enough.

I want to know why I can’t let it go, why I can’t stop feeling “sad” in some strange way, because generally all I feel is anger and that will take time to go away, if it ever does. If I do feel sad, why can’t I cry? I’ve acknowledged that both my parents are now gone… so what is holding me back? For the life of me I wish I knew what it was and I don’t want to be the girl that ends up being made of stone and can’t ever feel again…

Penny for my Thoughts

Pennies often get cast aside because they are viewed as worthless or just junk to be thrown into a drawer or rattle around in your purse until that fateful day when you might actually need one. This is how my thoughts feel when I try and project one out into the world or to someone I know. This doesn’t apply to all obviously, just in general and to a few that I think don’t always read between the lines.

Like have you ever dropped subtle hints you are in pain, needing help, or wanting them to be there and you feel tossed aside like an old penny? Only to one day be pulled from that junk drawer when they need you or when they finally realize “oh crap, she really was in a bad place” Your interest in this bond may be the same, or the dynamic may have changed when after constantly pulling on that tether you got tired and looked elsewhere for support.

I shouldn’t have to level up to silver dollar to get your attention; I may be a rusty old penny, but last time I checked… pennies are still in circulation. We still count, we still serve a purpose, and we are still important.

As I struggle with feeling unheard and the pains of my non-dealt with issues resurface; I feel as if no one wants to deal with this penny when I’m in “dark mode.” They only like me when I’m shined up. Lesson for the day chickadees and gents… if they can’t stand with you in the darkest times no matter how long and numerous, then don’t let them stand with you in the sunshine.