Take a Chance on Me

Every so often I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. I wonder why I’m still single, I wonder why I haven’t completely dropped all the weight I’ve been working so hard to lose, I wonder if I’m on the right track, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, I just wonder about so many things.

I have been trying to read my Bible more and pray more, it’s gotten a lot better, it I wonder if I’m doing enough.

I have this compulsive need to fix everything and I don’t always know how or if I do, I don’t have the money.

There was a job that I was really interested in and 100% could have done, but they don’t think I have enough experience. The unfortunate part is I know that I would have done a fantastic job. And if they would have just given me a chance to learn, perfect my craft, and show them what I can do i know they wouldn’t have been disappointed.

I hate that no one can see how great I truly am.

Better yet, I have that no one is willing to see how great I truly am.

I don’t want to be alone forever. I don’t want to have to be constantly finding a job that pays more. I want something that will cover my expenses and my parents expenses easily.

I’m fortunate to have so much and I don’t take it for granted. Not one bit.

I’m a Villain

Do you ever feel like you’re the villain in your own story? Not just metaphorically, but actually.

Today, I realized that I’m a complete asshole. I’m a bitch. I’m a terrible person and an even worse daughter.

Today, I made my father cry. It was subtle, but it was there.

I didn’t realize that what I was saying actually affected him until he came to me and said so.

What’s wrong with me?

How can one person be so cruel? I thought I was jokingly speaking to him, but apparently not.

Here’s the story:

He asked what happened to the Rumchata that was on the counter? And I said, ‘well you drank it all. It’s gone. What do you mean?’ I said it with the same attitude I’ve had towards him for most of my life (which I know is a problem). He said he didn’t drink it all and I just kept saying he did, like he drank the Fireball and all the other drinks I bought. And I walked away and left him standing there.

For context, we’ve had this or a similar exchange before. But this one was different.

He came to my workstation with tears in his eyes and said something along the lines of, ‘Even if I did drink it, it was only a small small sip. I can’t have that?’ then he walked away.

Of course, I immediately got up and went to him and gave him a hug, which to be honest I don’t remember the last time I did that. Granted, we’re not a hugging family like that. But still, I hugged him and apologized and told him I loved him and he told me a story of his childhood.

I honestly hate that I am this way. I feel like I know the underlying reasons for it, but it still sucks that I can’t bring myself to change. We’re not getting any younger and time is just constant flying by and I am wasting it by being the way I am.

I am a terrible person and daughter. I know that. I’ve known that. But, I haven’t acknowledged really. Maybe now in doing so, I can learn to change.

Alex.

Fear vs. Fantasy

I have a problem

It’s a pretty big one, considering the ramifications. I know I’ve probably said this before, but I think that for the longest time I have always wanted something bad to happen. Not really, but really. I think I just kept fantasizing it. A LOT. Perhaps, too much.

I kept thinking the worst possible thing. Always. And a part of me, albeit a small part wanted it to come true. Like an accident or a something. I don’t think I wanted the bad thing to necessarily happen. I think I just wanted to see how I would react to the bad thing itself, if that makes sense?

I wanted to get sick to see how strong I would be as a result.

I wanted to be put in bad situations to see if I could find my way out of them.

I wanted bad things to happen so I could be my own savior.

But now that some have come true and I wasn’t strong enough. I want a do over to prove that I still can rescue myself.

Changes

I feel like I am being changed by the people in my environment and I don’t know if I like it. I don’t know if it’s a positive change. I just know that it’s not me.

For example, I just recently bought a straight wig, one because I have always wanted it and two the opportunity presented itself when I was in the wig shop with my co-worker. Don’t get me wrong, the hair looks amazing, and I look amazing and I feel good wearing it (sometimes). But, the reactions that I received from it just made me feel like my natural hair and my natural self isn’t enough. I love my hair in an afro, and yeah at times I could style it a bit more but I love big, curly, and unruly hair. But now I feel like I should wear my hair differently because others like it better. Because it makes me better?

Example #2. We get car rentals for this project and usually I don’t care what car I get as long as it’s a car, right? However, my co-workers are bougie people and they feel that they need to have the best of the best wherever they go. So currently two of them are driving Range Rovers, mainly because they’ve been renting cars longer than me and they have the upgrade privileges, but also because they’re bougie. However one of my other coworkers is driving a regular car and I feel like I should have just listened to her when she said to get whatever car I wanted. When the time came for me to pick up my car yesterday they asked if I wanted a Nissan Maxima or if I wanted a Chrysler 300 (which was the first car I had, that my bougie coworkers swooned over) and I chose the Chrysler because I wanted to impress my co-workers. I’ve regretted that decision since I’ve driven off the lot, because I should have picked the other car, not only to try something new but because it’s still a nice car regardless of name. And it would have been my choice to get it. I know it sounds like a stupid thing to complain about or take issue with, but the problem is that I feel like I’m not doing things for me but for others. And I don’t like it.

I don’t want to be anyone other than who I am. And if I do change I want it to be because I am growing up, not because I am conforming or changing to who other people expect me to become.

I’ve always maintained that I didn’t care what other people thought of me (for the most part), but now I feel like I am constantly on display and being judged by everyone around me and I just need to do whatever I can to measure up to them.

I don’t like it, at all.

I Slipped

On Friday night. I was home. Alone. I watched Sharp objects.

I drank Deep Eddy’s Lemon vodka.

I broke a glass.

& then I used it to cut myself.

I had no reason to do it. It was honestly just the perfect storm, because I’ve been really wanting to break a glass and see what it would feel like to do so and to potentially use it. But, I didn’t feel anything. I saw the blood, but I didn’t feel the pain. It just felt like it was something to do.

It was also the first time I cut anywhere other than my wrist. But, I wanted the lines to be longer, so I cut the length of my thigh.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. And I’m afraid to tell me friend that I failed, because I don’t want to let them down.

Continue reading “I Slipped”

Childlike

I feel like a child.

I feel like the person who hasn’t grown up.

I feel like a failure.

I feel like a nothing.

I feel nothing.

I feel like I am not who I want to be.

I feel like I am not who I am supposed to be.

I feel like I am not who I want/ed to be.

I feel like…

I don’t know.

I just don’t feel like me.

Grow the fuck up Alex.

Be better than this.

Be better.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Is there anything even wrong with me?

Why can’t I get passed this?

Why am I like this?

Why can’t I be normal?

What is happening to me?

Why is this happening to me?

Fuck.

Birthdays & Reflections

Yesterday was my birthday. I am now officially 27 years of age.

Alright , enough with the formalities. This calendar past year has been without a doubt one of the greatest years I have had ever. My past birthday year started off with a rocky start since my family was in a car accident about a week before my birthday and my mom broke her back and my sister torn her Achilles tendon and developed a blood clot shortly after. But since then, my other sister got married. My brother has a fiance and a daughter. And I received my first training role. Oh and I’ve been to seven countries. And I have about $2300 left of personal credit card debt.

Like I said, this past year was amazing. It has been a whirlwind of emotions and a series of ups and down, mainly up and I am so lucky, well blessed to have been afforded all of the opportunities that I have over the past year.

With that being said, about a month ago after losing my last position, I slowly entered into a depression. I guess that’s what it’s called when the things that usually bring you joy, no longer do. I would say that I was in my funk for about three weeks with the last week being the most difficult. I finally truly snapped out of it on Saturday when I took a trip to visit my friend in Michigan.

But, before then I wasn’t happy and I honestly wasn’t see a way out of it. I was miserable and I didn’t know why. And then I got mad at myself for being so miserable because I have so many things that other people do not.

I figured that I was being ungrateful or that I was being selfish because things weren’t going my way. But, the truth is/was I was physically or mentally, whatever the case may be, unable to be “happy”. I wasn’t able to snap out of it like I usually did. Even my aunt noticed that there was something wrong with me. That was the first time EVER that I couldn’t mask how I was feeling enough to make it through even the simplest of interactions.

I started this post a week ago. My birthday was November 6th. In that past week, I started to feel significantly better. Things were/are starting to look up and I started to feel like myself again. Slowly, but surely. But then Wednesday hit and something stopped. I stopped getting better. I stopped seeing the good. I stopped being patient with myself, I stopped talking to my friends. I just stopped.

I think it’s all related to job stress. I am waiting to hear back from a position that I really want and the wait is what’s killing me, because I feel like I have to wait even longer because they are on the west coast and are up three hours after me. There also the stress that I was supposed to have worked two days this week with a family I babysit for but the dad canceled on me. That wouldn’t have been that big of an issue, but I turned down ANOTHER family because of this family and he cancels. Finally, I think it just all came crashing down on me because this week I had to borrow from my savings again. Not just my regular savings, but the savings that you hide away and forget is there savings. It’s been two months since my last paycheck and I am getting worried. Again.

I thought my life would be different by now. I thought that I would in a relationship, have a great career, own my own home. You know the normal things that people aspire to have in their late twenties. And don’t get me wrong on the outside looking in, I seem to have it all. I get to travel, for free, I only work half of the year, I have little to no debt, I’m healthy. What more could person ask for, right?

Genuine happiness on a daily basis for starters. 

Choices

I’ve recently come to the conclusion that the reason why it’s affected me so much wasn’t the act itself, but the fact that my choice was taken away.

I know you’re probably thinking to yourself, “Well of course, I could have told you that from the beginning.” but no. You couldn’t have. Because you weren’t there. And you didn’t know the whole story.

It took another physical, not sexual, encounter for me to realize that indeed I wasn’t hurt by him sexually (well I was, but I wasn’t). I was hurt by the fact that things progressed too far too fast and I wasn’t in control of anything. It was all about him and his needs and not once did he realize that I was terrified. Not once did he ask if I was okay. Not once.

Yes, I made the choice to go back to his room, but he made the choice to not listen to me when I spoke.

I was afraid to admit that before the incident I enjoyed our foreplay because maybe that would mean that I wanted it, I didn’t. Let me be very clear, I did not. He was a great kisser and he was hot, and we had fun, but everything that happened after, I did not want. I’ve come to terms with being okay with the first incident, maybe, not really.

But, the sex. No. I did not want. I wasn’t ready and he knew that. He took advantage of me and he took the choice away from me.

He raped me of my choice.