Valentine’s Day is absolutely the stupidest bullshit “holiday” in the history of mankind. 
No, really… I know there been some doozies throughout history, but Valentine’s Day really just takes the cake. 

I’m not just some bitter thwarted girl with no valentine… I have the love of my life, and I’m secure with our relationship, all the time. Even when we piss each other off…  If he and I don’t love each other 365, then we wouldn’t be together- period! 

Love is something special, and not promised to any of us. It’s something we earn and create and work on and give and share all the time. It’s difficult to define sometimes, but it is nearly NEVER that fairy tale, prepackaged with ribbons and bows,floofy, frilly, over-glorified picture-perfect ridiculous sap that people tout and pine for. Get a grip- we don’t live in a Disney film. 

Mine is not like yours, but it’s perfect for me… (if you don’t want the sappy details, feel free to skip this next part. )

My love is good and bad, it’s kisses goodnight and cuddles in the morning, but it’s also putting up with snoring throughout the night.  It’s finding coffee ready to go and waiting for me when I’m in a rush to get to work, and it’s my car being warm too… but it’s also, sneaking out quietly when he needs his rest, setting up his coffee and breakfast and making sure the dogs are fed, let out, and back in so he doesn’t have to do it. It’s staying up late because he wants to chat, but we were both too busy to chat at all during the day and needed to touch base.  It’s the feeling of security that I get when he’s near me… and I cannot find that anywhere else (believe me, I’ve tried and I’ve never found it before) it’s the devastation I feel when I know he’ll be gone for seven months… but it’s also the effort and support I put in to making sure he can go for seven months and won’t need to worry about anything else but what he needs to do in that time. It’s stupid things like picking up rocks and dog poop in the yard before he mows. It’s making his plate warm so his pasta won’t get cold at dinner. It’s finding my hot water bottle all set up in my bed before I get out of my shower at night. It’s laughing at his silly jokes and it’s  getting cranky when he’s being rude. It was finding myself in need of a car, and him letting me use his favorite car. It’s been him dealing with my family drama while simultaneously keeping me from falling into a depression over it. He’s put up with clutter just to move me in with him. It’s putting up with his extraordinarily high expectations and dealing with the disappointments when they aren’t matched… it’s struggling to keep up with his intensely high paced “go-go-go/get-shit-done”  way of life, and it’s basking in the reward of our accomplishments too. It’s constant planning, building, growing… it’s nit-picking and it’s understanding… it’s making him eat because he works so hard that he forgets… it’s seeing him wearing tattered old, paint stained, holey work clothes and scruffy face – and still feeling that pride because he’s the most beautiful sight in the whole wide world and I’m feeling that warm glow in my heart just thinking about him even on our worst days… It’s routines, it’s stability, its consistency and It’s putting up with hot and cold behavior… and realizing that it’s always worth sticking it out because our foundation is strong,  it’s real,  gritty, hand forged, honest Love. I know in my heart that he is my One. My future is integrated with his. I’ll stand by him till one of us dies. 

(End of sap- it’s safe to go on from here) 

We don’t say “I love you” much.   But we do love each other. It’s implied and received In all the things we do, big and small… 

we don’t actually do anything pre-packaged… we go at our own pace and set our own rules… 

So, to be forced to say “I love you” on February 14th makes no sense. Sure, it’s nice to hear, but…

To wait till a holiday to show appreciation for the other half of my heart seems stupid. Pointless. A waste of time and energy on something we both live, understand, and accept from each other comfortably and consistently. To randomly stop and declare it – because someone else wants us to- seems to take away from the authenticity of what we really have… 

Is it nice to acknowledge our love- yes, of course! But not under those circumstances.  Imagine if someone were blackmailing you with something and ordered you to shower gifts and affection on one person or else… wouldn’t feel very genuine, would it?  

Valentine’s Day is really blackmailing you into these things disingenuously. It’s making you go to the hip to prove something that should not be in question.  It causes anxiety and awkwardness between people based on a societal demand that you MUST participate in this dog and pony show… and I refuse. 

Furthermore, it shames people that can’t or don’t participate.  It serves as a painful reminder to the lonely of their loneliness rather than focusing on other, better aspects of their lives. It serves as a reminder to widows of their loss. It drives people into depression and even suicide! 

So if you’re lucky; you subscribe, undergo anxiety, pay for some token that is considered acceptable and in return you get a token that is considered acceptable and maybe some obligatory sex afterwards… hmmm obligatory sex is just so… rewarding…? 

But on the flip side, you aren’t so lucky and now you feel like shit and you’re forced to smile in the face of the lucky sheep that feel the need to boast in your face about how wonderful *Valentine’s Day love* is- you know, as opposed to regular, every day, “you forgot to put the toilet seat down, but thank you for heating up my towel for me, and I’m sorry I forgot to pick up my socks again” kind of love. Smdh. 

I’m here to stand up and say TO HELL WITH VALENTINES DAY!  Seriously!  Because it’s bullshit and has absolutely ZERO bearing on you, your life, or love at all! None. 

I have a great big heart. I give so much love. Selfless love. And I RESENT having to prove it for someone else’s benefit. I RESENT being made to feel like I’m supposed to conform. And I resented being shamed when I spent so many Valentine’s days either alone or worse, stuck in a bad situation where I was entirely unloved. The sheer misery of it stuck with me from The first signs of those stupid pink hearts on the shelves of Target, straight on through march first. Pathetic, right?

I think Valentine’s Day should quietly make and exit… and all the stores pushing the novelties should promptly fuck off. 

Celebrate your anniversaries- because they are *yours*. They are private, and let’s face it, you EARN them every year. That’s real and it’s genuinely special.   And do it your way… 

Do you disagree, okay fine. Maybe *you are* the lucky one that won the love-lottery and has that picture-perfect fairy tale kind of love. And I’m thrilled for you! (Sincerely, I really am) but for those of us with a different reality and perspective, Valentine’s Day is more drama and anxiety than anything else. It is those people, who feel like I do, that I hope will read and enjoy this. But like the title says… this is my opinion. 

Happy “half-priced-candy” day! ūüėā

The ugly truth about what *my* depression looks like.

My depression is a fucking liar. She smiles in your face, tells lame jokes that no one gets, tries to cheer everyone else around her, and dresses pretty, puts on make up and tells everyone how great everything is gonna be… She will do¬†anything¬†to make you feel better.

But to me, she’s cruel, heartless, and utterly destructive. She tells me over and over how unattractive I am, and worthless, and points out my many many many flaws. “You’re disgusting, you’ll never be beautiful” ¬† She will harangue me relentlessly over every stupid mistake. “You fuck everything up” And I ceaselessly provide her with fuel. ¬† ¬† The worst part is, she knows my every insecurity and feeds them. Gorges them on my darkest fears till they’re so swollen they blot out the light. I hear them taunting me, touting terrible dark things like “no one will ever love you” and I believe it, because I’ve never been good enough thus far.

My depression wreaks havoc on my body. She eats food that makes me ill, causes me pain and makes me gain weight. She keeps me from sleeping at night and makes me feel tired all the time. She distracts me constantly, so I can’t focus. I can’t function. Lending weight to all her claims against me that I’m a hideous, unlovable, fuck up.

Sometimes I fight back. When I do, I am usually easily overtaken by her. Occasionally I fight back¬†hard¬†and she takes a step back. Plays nice. Tells me that she’s proud of how strong I’m becoming. And just when I start feeling like I’ve got her beat, I’ll let my guard down and she pounces like a cat on a mouse…

She is clever too. She robs me of my confidence, so I can’t build strong relationships or trust with anyone that might take away from her control over me. Evil and calculating and always two steps ahead of everyone and anyone. She has an explanation to rule out every act of kindness and every relationship, be-it romantic, just friends, workmates or even haters… If they care, then they’re blind to my flaws and anything good is instantly discounted as they’re only saying these things to make me feel better… and if they are haters, well, they must be justified, because I gave them reason to believe I’m really just an untrustworthy bitch that deserves it. ¬† And oh, just forget it if they love me… because there’s just¬†no possible way¬†they could *actually* love me. ¬†So by all means question everything to death, take everything too personally, clam up in fear of showing weakness or give too much, then hate myself for it afterwards. Once in a while I realize I’m doing this, apologize, try like hell not to do it again… but, either the damage is done already, or I just end up repeating the same mistake because I’m convinced that I’m unworthy as I am.

I build people up, and tell them all the things that are good about them, because the idea of someone else feeling irrevocably valueless seems horrendous to me, since I know how that feels. I live in that world and I’d wish it on nobody. I’d live there alone, dreaming of the day I can escape.

But don’t know if I ever will.

This may make you feel uncomfortable. I know it makes me uncomfortable… but it’s my ugly truth.

Can you see me?
Standing here before you.
Do you hear what I’m saying?
The words are soft and meaningful.
But you don’t seem to notice, save for once in a rare while when your world is too quiet to bear. Then you catch a glimpse, a glimmer of me- and I can tell when I’ve caught your eye. It’s fleeting and yet I try so hard, and wait all day for it… for my chance to exist.
But as soon as it comes it’s gone.
So I stand here before you. Alone… Invisible.

Something happened over time, though I discovered it all in one day… I realized I had lost my softness, yet didn’t quite gain the hard edge that might protect me…. I just sort of dissolved. It’s as though pieces of myself just fell away, into nothingness, like drops of rain from a cloud… a little at a time, drip, drop, until all that was left was the image of who I once was. Interactive, yet hollow. Conscious yet impossible to hold on to.
And there was no room for resentment or blame. The transformation was complete and there was no going back.
And I wondered if this was what I’d accidentally wished for?
I remembered being an ugly duck wishing to transform into something else, something invulnerable to the painful scrutiny of others…
And it dawned on me that yes, this is was the only magic I’d ever performed…
I made a girl disappear.

The Hush is coming.
I can sense it all around.
Dark shadowy tendrils reaching for me, whispers in velvet, elusive yet Burgeoning… Drifting Closer… Closer.
A raging quiet, building like a storm, surrounding me in smoky clouds of inky reticence…
The shroud of silence rises and falls upon me, leaving me restrained and obscured, muted and still.
I sink into it, unable to resist… Further and deeper until all else is snuffed out- and there is nothing left- only the hush…

From the moment we are born, and that first glimmer of light penetrates our primitive eyes, we are part of it.
We try to understand it, dissect it, lay it all out in a linear form, chart it, graph it, narrow it down into decorative boxes inside boxes inside more boxes still… We follow it and plan for it, we plot it, revisit it, remember it and look forward to it. We try to steal it, slow it down, stretch it out, run away from it, chase it down, and still we always eventually miss it. We are all bound to it, and bound together by it. We cannot change it, lie to it, or ever escape that we eventually, and inevitably, give every last speck of who and what we are to it. And it gives all of what it can to us, and when it stops… So too, do we.
Slaves to time, are we.

Again exposed, for none to see
A secret room where I can be
Released from cupboard box and bows
To be the girl that no one knows
Fully confident and strong
Dancing to a private song
Outside a world that locked away
The shining light and love of play
The witching hour nears it’s end
So cherish now this time we spend
Outside the box and off the shelf
The only time I am myself
A girl that’s free, a soul that’s true
A girl in love with only you
Until you shut me off again
And I will wear a different skin
A girl you’d hardly recognize
Because you compartmentalized
The heart and soul I gave you here
But you lock me up and hide from fear
Of giving in to happiness
Or showing signs of some weakness
Im Put aside and filed away
Till next time you want to play
Don’t be surprised to one day see
I’ve run away, escaped and free

Oh you tripped and you tumbled and fell from a star
And you bruised and you bled then you started to scar
You were brighter than fire
Now you’re blacker than tar
And the earth that surrounds you has been scorched into char
And I saw and I spied and I watched from afar
As you sank and you struggled and became what you are
And they drove up to claim you in shiny black cars
And they watched you die slowly
Locked up in a jar

Following the general rule of my life… I’m changing things up again…
Cant allow myself to get too comfortable in a rut.
I’ve got to keep moving forward until I’ve found my perfect slice of happiness.
Carving it a little here and there as I go… But now it’s time to break the mold again.
I’ve been keeping to myself. ¬†Quiet and anti-social. It suited me for a while, but it is becoming like a security blanket… anytime anything happens I duck out of view and POOF!
I’m tired of Poofing.
So I figure its about time to start putting myself out there…

but I’m *scared* to put myself out there….
I’m afraid of getting hurt… again…

And to that I am going to apply a little bit of wisdom that my new boss imparted upon me last week…
He said “yeah, you’ve been through a lot… but GET OVER IT! – Have fun! Live your life.”

Okay that’s what I’m going to try now. ¬†I think I’m ready and I’ve got things under control now.
I know who I am, and what I want, and certainly have plenty of experience with what I DON’T want…

I’m going to try something new… have some fun… meet some people… and all the while I’m going to just be me. {which is really the only person I could be, since I don’t have any kind of personality disorders or anything…}
And, yes… I am afraid to be “out there” ¬†since it’s so much safer “in here” as I’ve mentioned before… But, I’ll get over it. =)

I’ll write again… soonish.
I plan on having some fun and interesting stories to share.

If you’re dropped into a foreign environment – you either evolve to survive, or perish.
So far, I haven’t perished… not even close.

It’s been a while… several months since my last post. I may have lost my feel for this. I guess we’ll see…
Here’s whats new:

New job {err, newer new job}
More confidence
Happier kids
Other than that, more of the same.
I’m still a work in progress, but aren’t we all?
My kids are doing better than ever, having both made the honor roll.
It’s the first time for my youngest, he’s had many hurdles to overcome – from his bone marrow condition, to his vision impairment, he started learning to read 4 years after he should have…
and now he’s caught up quite nicely. ¬†He still has to work harder than most, and he struggles sometimes.. but he always puts in that extra effort to get the work done, and done right! I’m so very proud!¬†
My oldest just turned 16 and has several colleges courting him – nothing Ivy League so far, but its early yet… lol.
I’m a lucky, and extremely proud mom.

I’m enjoying my new job, the company I work for is pretty great.
I briefly worked elsewhere, it didn’t last long, ¬†I’m so glad to be out of that interesting new brand of hell. I had many promises made to me, but none came to fruition, or ever could really, the company was run very poorly, and the owner was one of the most obnoxious, repugnant creatures I’ve dealt with in quite a while…
2 years, in fact… Yup, my divorce began 2 whole years ago. ¬†Still isn’t finalized… So much for filing “no-fault” just to get it over with as quickly as possible…SMH…¬†
Never the less, it continues on… as things often do.

Still single – ¬†My choice. It’s just simpler this way… I’m not ready to put myself out there again, just to be disappointed, or disgusted. The last one was fooling around with a girl HALF his age, even I had 11 years on her… I’m so done with putting up with that kind of shameful, selfish, immature, behavior. I swear, the men I’ve met in my life are far worse than the stereotypes that women cook up. Go figure.
I don’t intend to bash men in my post… There are plenty of good ones… “Out-There” Which is a place I routinely avoid… I’m quite comfy with good-ole, safe, familiar in here.
See, I was already quite violently dropped into unfamiliar territory when I became a single mom… I began to evolve and adapt, and then promptly created a quiet, cozy little niche for myself and my kids…¬†
This is expected to change at some point… I know. But I’m good right now.

I’ve changed so much… This once frightened mouse of a girl, whom needed permission for everything… I couldn’t do, say or *Think* ANYTHING without fearing whether I’d be “in trouble” or not. Even down to my hair color, and style. I HAD to be blonde… no choice. ¬†Now I’m a redhead… and I love it. It suits me, and it’s so much healthier… I use organic Henna. ¬†– But, I digress… this isn’t about my hair… or my Ex… just really meant as an update on my life as I evolve and adapt…
I will continue to do so until my life is just right… But it’s getting there… Every day, just a little closer.

I think the bottom line is that right now, I’m not just surviving… but thriving!