January 15, 2025

“A thousand people I could be for you and you hate the fucking lot…”

I’m in one of those moods where I would love to write something deeply emotional and profound. What that would look like I have no clue. Truly there is and are no original thoughts anymore. Especially coming from me. I only ever seem to regurgitate thoughts from the greats, just not as dazzling.

My self flagellation isn’t very attractive, but I’m also in a headspace where I want to push everyone away. It happens whenever I get a whiff of perceived slights. This has been occurring with more frequency lately. I imagine it is due to my depression over charlie’s passing. My threshold of resilience has significantly lowered. I just don’t have the energy to persevere. So, I fall to my tired tropes of isolation. Only in it do I find solace. Well, that or I realize how ridiculous I’m acting and I can emerge mildly humbled.

I’ve decided that I want to shrink my social circle. I just don’t have the capacity to maintain relationships. My heart aches every day in very subtle ways. Only today did it occur to me. Without my husband I just feel hollow. I feel lost. Apathetic. Indifferent.

I’ve just realized that I don’t really mean anything to anyone, other than what I can give them. Then I just feel like all I do is disappoint them with what I can.

January 13, 2025

An Experience Either Way…

Sometimes (like most people I’m sure) I hate myself. Honestly, it’s a revolving door of things I dislike but today it is “what past trauma has done to me.” When I was younger I used to be a very giving person. My parents taught me to give more than I received. What we did not anticipate is that people are selfish users. It’s funny now that we all learned a valuable lesson at different stages of our lives. Yet we responded the same way. We over-corrected and thus became suspicious of everyone.

My solo cruise is coming up at the end of this month and I grow ever more uneasy. It’s terrifying just thinking of traveling “internationally” alone. So many scenarios run through my head… Primarily around getting kidnapped. (Not like I’m that easy to snatch…) Other ones include getting lost or left behind by the cruise line. From these fears I’m starting to panic and think of people I could take with me as a safety net. I’m already paying for the second person anyway… I might as well. What stops me is that the WHOLE POINT is to do something by myself. Which I’ve never done before.

I can’t take my BF because he has to work and is saving his vacation time for our cruise in July. I don’t want to take my brother because I am so weirdly co-dependent that it would make things worse. Plus, sometimes I get the feeling that my BF thinks that I’m going to run off with him and leave him behind. (That’s his own childhood trauma talking though.) So, neither is a viable option.

One of the leading contenders (in my head) is this young guy I have coined as “black jack,” because he’s 21 years old. (I’m super clever, right?) His real name is Ryan but I have 2 others in my circle and so saving “seconds” from having to explain which one I’m referring to, I gave him a cutesy little name.

I have mentioned it to him in passing but… I started to get paranoid that this youngun was just befriending me to use me for this trip. Granted… I brought it up to him… and he hasn’t given me any cause to think that at all. It’s just my own intense past trauma.

In addition, I didn’t want my BF to think that I was replacing him or using this trip as a way of getting closer to Blackjack. That’s not even in the orbit of the sphere of possibility. I’m not like that. I can control my feelings from getting attached or fall for someone. What I don’t have the power to do is keep someone else from feeling a certain way. If I took him, would he “fall for me?” I don’t want to hurt someone and he’s so young that I absolutely would. That is, if they’re real emotions and not tied to what I can offer him: “stability.”

Past experience has made me so jaded. I’m leery of people who are just being my friend to get something from me. My husband and I were suckers… We had a roommate use us to pay for his fucking rent and cell phone. We did it because we thought he was our friend but he peaced the fuck out and didn’t bother to tell us he was done until we had wasted buckets of money.

This fear and my own fear of being alone have made me so paranoid and uneasy. This whole trip is meant to be fun, yet here I sit dreading the entire experience. (Watch… I’ll just sit in my room the whole time.)

January 8, 2025

Same Historic Events, Different Generation

Since Zuck decided to join the Nazi party, I have ditched both facebook and instagram. I have zero interest in participating in that nonsense. This boot licking Magat shit has truly been something to behold. The way every rich piece of shit has kissed the ring since he was elected is astonishing, but weirdly unsurprising. Of course they have… they need more money to add to their Everest of cash.

Unattaching myself from social media accomplishes two-fold, it makes it where I no longer will participate in the bullshit while simultaneously protecting my fragile world view.

Last night watching Tiktoks I found myself panicked about the state of the world. Once again I am reminded how insignificant I am and how little control I have over my own existence. To combat this I have decided to narrow down the media I consume. I need to put myself into a position where I am informed but not so filled with anxiety that I am slowly lose my mind. It’s a genuinely fine line to walk because, let’s face it, I am crazy.

The one aspect of this “purge” (for lack of a better word) that upsets me is that I did it after Charlie’s passing. He so wanted me to unplug and not let my thoughts be consumed by that which I had zero control over. He begged me. I just refused. It is one of my many regrets. The thought of not staying “on top of everything” was too upsetting for me. As if knowing that the missile was coming would somehow save me when it’s detonation was imminent and there would be no way for me to get out of the blast zone. Y’know what I mean?

Burying my head in the sand isn’t going to stop the world and the “powers that be” from doing what they can and will do. All I can do is respond to that which is before me. Until I encounter it, it is none of my concern.

My sister-in-law asked me on election night if I genuinely thought we would turn into Nazi Germany and… I hesitated to answer. I don’t know. I just don’t. However we are told repeatedly that history repeats itself. If you’re gifted with pattern recognition you will see that there are so many similarities between then and now that you’d have to be the optimist of optimists to not believe where we are headed.

January 2, 2025

A Ghost Ship Sails Into 2025

I can’t let a New Year arrive and not do my usual post… I’m almost certain I’ve done one every Jan 1st since I started my first ever blog on Xanga. Granted, I am a little late by doing it on the 2nd. I was otherwise preoccupied yesterday as I was adhering to the restrictions of the “Cline – Hensley Christmas Truce of 2005.” I am proud to say that peace has been maintained for another year.

Before I go any further I must warn you that this is going to be sad. I don’t mean it to be. Nor am I trying to garner sympathy. I am just sharing my experiences within the wake of loss and grief. Just know I am fine. I am powering through. There is no hint or whiff of self-harm anywhere in my body. Were you to have metaphysical powers to examine me, all you would find is the comfort and acceptance I have for my own mortality. So, fear not dear reader!

There was an urge to write this last night before the day passed, but I couldn’t be bothered. At home all I have is my phone and, if I am feeling the energy to do so, I can lug my huge laptop into the living room where I balance it on my sweaty thighs to do my writing. Neither of those really spoke to me. Therefore I decided to wait until I was sitting in the office at my PC to quickly write this out. (I’m on commission. It’s fine.) And here it is:

I have no hope for this year. None. I do not think that it will be bad, which it most likely will, but I also do not think it will be good. I think we’re all going to collectively have another parade of lessons we better be prepared for, which I am certain no one is. If Covid taught me anything it is that society has an unhealthy amount of willful ignorance and stubbornness.

As I look into the stretch of another year spinning through the Milky Way, I lack any ambition or drive to complete anything. Most people have “Travel more” or “be more kind.” On the other hand, I just want to exist. I see no sense in trying to set up some ambitious goal I will most likely break. No grand pronouncement on some digital platform is going to force me into adhering to it. The fact of the matter is, I don’t care. I don’t see any hope or joy on the horizon, even when there is very much “joy” within sight.

I have a bunch of fun vacations planned throughout the year, but they pale in comparison to the fact that my job is only getting worse. Whether unintentionally or by design is yet to be seen. I’ve given my “boss” a year deadline and if Trump doesn’t magically turn the world into a wealth making machine “for everyone” then I’m fucked. So, in short, I’m fucked.

Do not despair, dear reader. I am not giving up without putting in the last bits of gusto I have left. I promised my husband I would complete my education to achieve the next step in my career. He had wanted me to do this while he was still alive, however caring for him at his whims and doing the courses would have genuinely driven me insane. I told him I was going to put a pin in that, but I promised, promised him that I would complete it once he was gone. It’s been over six months and I have at least purchased the required courses. They sit, unopened in my on-line school “library.” All I have to do is, well, do them. Once those are completed I take the required proctored exams for each one, apply to the state office, (if approved) take the ultimate exam for licensing and then pay the fee. So. No need to get overwhelmed. One thing at a time…

Some would say this is a New Year’s resolution but it isn’t. It’s baggage from a previous engagement. Again I am not in control of my own choices. I am bound to promises from long ago. Which is fine, not a complaint. More just another example that our lives don’t seem to belong to us, but rather to outside forces that tear at us from opposing sides.

I enter 2025 with no hope or promise, just apathy. I am an empty vessel. This may turn out to be a good thing. It leaves me at the ready for new experiences and opportunities. Ultimately this current state of existence protects me from the stress and anguish that is absolutely coming.