Dear Catie, I’m starting my new beginning before the new year. #becauseican

So, allow me to apologize and thank you at the same time, my darling Kettle.

I apologize, because I have been rotten the past few months. I’ve been hurting in my own way, and that made me more bitter than I care to admit – but will anyway because admitting my feelings is more healthy than pretending they didn’t happen at all. I sincerely thought this would be my new life, this not caring, being sassy, and bitter thing.

But, it was not meant to be. And, while I was doing it all, and writing out in my darkest moments, I truly appreciate you for responding with haste, with compassion, and with humor. You and I speak on a level that is secret to our own nature, our own way. It’s a language people can see and hear and understand, but they may not fully comprehend the depth. You reached me. And I thank you so much for it. I’m surprised you didn’t just:

 

 

I mean, I would have taken it.

 

Anyhow, let’s move on to the new things.

 

I thought up a few new ideas for a book. Two are in this world. They’re fiction, but it’s like, modern day. 2014. You know. Another is in another world, made up, very steampunk meets victorian.

I moved in to my new apartment. Tomorrow, my father moves out of his house and stops sleeping at my apartment – and Elijah and I will be completely and totally alone. I love my father, and this isn’t a jest at him or the old, “I’m so glad to kick my parents out” joke. I am seriously thankful for the opportunity to be in my own home. My own. Just me (and Elijah). And more so, that I can magically afford it somehow, like a grown ass responsible and independent woman that don’t need no man. Huzzah.

I’m also kind of thankful that Dad’s gone because I could not get the man to cook healthy. I mean, come on. I am trying to lose weight. Stop making potato-cheese-bacon melt casserole, jeeze.

I also no longer have to deal with toll roads. Hallelujah. It takes me 20 minutes to get to work, even from Dallas, because every time I drive the highway is against traffic rather than with, and thus I don’t have roadblocks. I’m sure they will periodically happen. I’m not daft, but it’s a much better situation.

Oh, by the way, I am in the center of everything. I love the city, and have always wanted to live here. I’ve lived in suburbs, but this is my first in the actual city where sirens are a daily occurrence sort of deal. I love it. There’s 3 malls around the corner, a million bookstores on my block and my walmart is two stories tall. (Three stories with the Sams Club attached. Oh yeah.)

I read an article the other day about people who want to travel to go on their ‘soul-searching’ journey – and the author was like, “Quit coming to my country looking for your peace. We are not for you tourists pleasure. We do not magically fix you. You fix you. You will not be ‘fixed’ unless our mind and heart and soul are in the right frame. If you have to come here to ‘get away’, fine, but do not assume we are miracle workers. You can do this at home. Just find a place inside to sit and ‘get away’ and find yourself. It’s frightening, but cheaper!”

My apartment has become this. Granted, I pay for it monthly, but I’m on my own. My own rules. My own decisions. My own life. I am so thankful.

I know that this may be backwards, but after many disagreements and arguments with my cousin who is very devout in Christian faith, I have decided to take the label off of my faith. I believe there is a God. I believe whatever this God is is fair and just and lovely and fascinating and has to exist because this world, nay, universe is too much for chance. I believe in paying respects. I believe in thanking each part and piece of nature and our natural world for it’s existence. For thanking calm as it washes over me. For thanking worry as it reminds me that I care about something so much to be anxious over it. But I will no longer call myself of Christian faith. It was the hardest decision I’ve made recently, and one that broke me down to tears. It’s a long story, but it has been brought to my attention that my way of life was hardly anything to do with Christianity, and if that is the case, then fuck it. 

I’ll do good and be a good person because I am a good person.

I love you so much.  I may write smaller pieces here and there because there’s more I want to write to you but have momentarily forgotten. I love you. I love you. I love ou.

I appreciate you. I see you. Thank you.

Miranda

 

 

 

 

P.S. I got a text from my mom as I was closing this and my mom announces, “No breast cancer!! Just cysts!” Yeeeeehaw!

 

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Dear Catie, S. O. S.

Everyone’s gone.

 

I have never felt so incredibly alone since I was a teenager.

 

You (understandably) left games / even Skype. That was the beginning.

 

Everyone else seemed to follow suit. Zach left the Skype group. Adam got busy with school. Frank went AWOL. Melisha is busy doing stuff in her life. God, I miss all of them. So much. Holidays are upon us, so I’m sure that has something to do with it, but this has been going on for the past two to three months. People just.. trickling away.

 

Aside from Skype, I don’t roleplay anymore. I’m not in that crowd. The new crowd I met in [vox]  is too new for me to vent to. You know how that is. We’re friends, but not friends. Not yet. And my facebook ‘friends’ have dwindled due to divorce.

 

Was it something I said? Was it something I did? What the hell do I do?

 

I have been a great friend to everyone else who went through something hard, something difficult. I have stuck by. I have tried hard to console, to confront, to comfort them in their times of need.

 

I’m crying right now because.. Dammit, I am going through one of the hardest things in the world. Me. It’s my turn. Someone fucking take care of me. Someone fucking tell me it’s going to be okay. Someone fucking reply when I say a fucking greeting, even if it’s just to tell me ‘Hi, sorry I’m busy doing X I’ll talk to you when I can!”

 

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t curse at you. I’m not going it at you, really. Please know that. I’m just.. venting.

 

Help. Anyone. Please.

 

S.O.S.

Miranda

Dear Catie, It’s Nobody’s Business, But Here’s My Last Six Months In Gifs. (Featuring Emma Stone and the cast of Easy A)

 I mean, not really. I’m figuring it out for the most part and I’m pretty proud of how far I’ve come thus far in the journey. But, still. Here’s a quick series of gifs that explain how I feel, despite feeling all of this and having select few people who know little or nothing about me ask me how I’m doing, because… Let’s face it. They’re not doing it out of my best interest. They want the scoop, the dish, and the gold medal of being a friend ‘whose shoulder I can cry on, if I want to.’ Thanks.

When I made the decision to separate, and told close-to-me people. Thanks for the vote of confidence that I have an idea of what my life is like, and what it isn’t.

Which brought this on:

The gold-trophy-award-friend who gives me a shoulder to cry on to win said award (and gossip):

When I go on a date (since our separation):

I mean, dang. How do you really feel about me and my life decisions?

Because I’m tired of hearing this:

One thing I’ve learned about people who are divorced (and those who end up as single parents like myself), is to not be so judgmental. It’d be great if others did the same for me, you know, if you wanna be friends that is.:

So now, on my days off (Sundays), this is me… By myself… Being awesome:

And finally:

Love you, Catie. I’ll end with this:

Dear Catie, I’m grasping at straws. (Warning: Rage)

Okay, real talk. Just so you know, Catie, I am not yelling at you, and as a disclaimer to you and our religious readers, I am not trying to ‘diss’ on any of you, or your Gods. In fact, the world would be fantastic if we could all just agree to love each other because that’s what we’re supposed to freaking do, but I digress. Actually, I digress a lot in this post. Ugh.

 

These are the things that I feel or know:

  • I know that we are not alone in this universe or else-wise. There is so much untouched and undiscovered that we can’t be the only aliens alive.
  • Despite attempting to see the other side of things, I cannot in my heart or sound mind assume that everything is for nothing, and that the creation of it all wasn’t the work of some greater power, some fantastic God or Goddess, a high power – if you will.
  • Things in my life have happened that are so miraculous or coincidental that I have a hard time second-guessing them as proof of either karma or divine intervention.

What I would like to believe:

  • That God exists. One God. A solo, single god. Be it that all the religions are just talking about the same god under different names or one or the other is wrong and it’s actually this guy not the other. I’d like to believe that one exists.
  • That whomever this God is, he is merciful. That he realizes not everyone at all times is going to be on point all the time – or even the majority of the time. That he won’t belittle them or show them the door just because – as humans – we continue to fail.
  • That God truly does forgive, and doesn’t hold the grudges of the things you’ve begged forgiveness for.
  • That God saves. That his son really did die on the cross so that you could make those mistakes.
  • That the bible isn’t just a string of great moral stories fabricated by man to explain the things around them that they didn’t understand, and also to grant us a great sense of morals to follow by so we don’t all kill each other like morons.

Believe me, fellow readers who are of a religion, that I am in no way trying to bash your religion. I am not trying to cause doubt in your minds. I am not trying to shit all over Jesus. What I am trying to say is there are things that I know and have cemented in my mind, body, and spirit and then… there are things that I just really wish I felt the same about. But the honest truth is, I have a hard time, a really hard time, with just about everything in the ‘What I would like to believe’ section. I don’t want to doubt it. I don’t want to disbelieve what millions upon millions of other Christians so readily believe and have gone past the trials of not believing. I do.

I’ve been trying to think of the reasons why I can’t wrap  my head around them just yet, and a lot of it has to do with:

  • Guilt / Shame of my life and some the choices I have made. (I’ve made some really good ones, but… we all stumble.)
  • Pressure of very strict religious environments and their lack of acceptance of pretty much anything I’ve ever felt needed some mercy and understanding.
  • People I know directly who are so devout and mean well, but truly, they just push and push and do not understand that they are driving a wedge between myself and wanting to talk to them about anything other than the weather – which, by the way didn’t you know, is a gift from God for those of us who haven’t royally screwed up today/this week/this month/this year.

I’m being catty. I don’t want to be catty, but I’m about to explode. I felt like I almost had a grasp on God, and having a relationship with him, and screw anyone else and all the organized religion that everyone wanted to push on me, and the communities that scrutinized me, and forget them because I had a God that was forgiving and loved me despite my flaws and was working in my heart in the most beautiful ways.

But wait, I’m doing it wrong. He’s merciful… if you deserve it. He forgives you… if you really try to change. He loves you… if you love him back. You can have him… if you change absolutely all of your ways and shed off any sin you currently practice.

Weird. It sounds like he’s becoming a human being instead of an Almighty God. But wait, this wasn’t his doing. This is some of his followers. This is humans, talking about him. This is humans talking about him to me.

Slowly, I began to realize that nothing makes me want to give up religion altogether and stop struggling to believe… more than the people who follow him.

I. Absolutely. Love and Adore. The people who make me feel this way, and it breaks my heart. I also recognize that I, myself, am giving them the permission to get under my skin and grind my gears with their pressure. It is not their fault I am being pushed away, not really. I am within my own power and right to not give them that chance, to not let them in. So I haven’t been. When religion comes up, I bottle up and bow out. When something is said I don’t agree with, I give up even wanting to argue the issue — especially on social medias, where everyone is a winner as long as someone agrees with you. 

I wish I knew others who felt about Him the same way I do – without the bullshit of condemning me and all of that shaming, guilting. We all get it, okay? Just because my sins are on the surface and yours are well hidden doesn’t make you any different from me. People make it so hard to love God with all of their damn nit-picking and rules and … I could rant for days on this agitating experience.

I’m ranting.

I’m sorry.

At the end of the day, I want so badly to believe in God. The same God that every other Christian believes in, rejoices in, and prays to. I want Him to love me so badly because I get that I am not perfect, and never will be, and that’s why He completes me. I want Him to wrap His arms around me and sing to me in the car when He plays that special song just for me – because He knows that’s how I hear Him best – and He knows that because He is God. When I think of Him alone, I am content and peaceful and feel like I can do this.

I’ll let you know how it goes, but I wanted to be open and honest about my feelings. Hopefully, in time, I’ll have posts about how great life is with Him in my life, but today is not that day. Today is a day of great struggle, as now I’m fighting against myself and the world.

Wish me luck,

Mojo

 

Dear Catie, I have to Let It Go.

(See how I tried to make a joke because this depression and reality is too much for me to take?)

There are very few things in life that I don’t want to talk about on my (or this) blog. There are very few things that I won’t put in to words because I like honesty and I like expressing pain and happiness when it comes. I seldom care if it’s humiliating for others to read and what they will think because it’s already out there, off my chest, out of this tight cage where I keep all things hidden. However, there are still a few things that I just can’t talk about.

The worst of all about this is that it’s the one thing I want to talk about the most, but I know it would cause too much harm to anyone it is about (including myself). Thus, I have to be as vague as possible.

My biggest pet peeve in the entire universe of pet peeves is people who are given ample opportunity to fix or have a solution to a conflict they complain about, yet they don’t take it. It bugs me to no end when the universe is working in such a way that all they have to do is to take a step forward, but they continue to stay in the past.

I don’t know why this is my biggest pet peeve. I don’t know if this is some allusion to myself and hating myself because I am just like them, or if it’s because they are truly the most annoying and difficult people in the world because their step could be the next big thing. If they would just take that step, it could influence the world so much around them, and the world wouldn’t be such a shitty place to them or others… But alas.. They won’t take it.

I find myself hoping they will take it every time. I build up expectations and standards for everyone who ever needs to take that step, and I get so pissed off when they don’t do it. Genuine anger. That’s my anger, my problem. And I have to learn to let… that.. go.

That’s what’s holding me back. I literally have to

let it go.. 

And I don’t know how. It is the hardest thing in the world for me right now. I have been in a depressed rut for over a week. I literally wake up and struggle to get out of bed even though I’ve slept already for 12 hours. I have skipped Tuesday –  Thursday classes just this week because I can’t decide if it’s worth it in the grand scheme of things. It won’t change the person I love, and it won’t make them be proud of me.. And if disappointment is what I get from them the most, it’s still an emotion, right? It’s still something?

I am trying desperately not to eat because I feel like it’s only counter-productive with what I want to do with my weightless. Yet, after not eating, I end up binge-ing out…which is counter-productive to my weightless. Dum dum dum. And everything around me just seems so dull.. even though I have reason to celebrate. Up until this week, I was doing fantastic in school. I have a new job opportunity at work which is actually fantastic. It will provide full-time hours and benefits. I’ve never had either (officially). Oh, and vacation time. Health insurance. (Also never had before). I am at a gym that is just about costing us nothing every month. They just announced in April that they will be expanding – which includes child care. I will pay $10 a month for a 24-Hr gym with child care. There are a lot of good things going on lately, but because I can’t let this one thing go.. Even if I realize that I have to let it go.. I can’t enjoy any of it.

I sit here in a pool of depression because letting go of this one thing, means letting go of the people I’ve cared most about, the people I’ve hoped the most about would change so that things could be easier between us. I hope that it wouldn’t have to be so hard anymore. I have to let it go because I’ve become that person that all I have to do is take one step and it’s fixed. But because I refuse to take that step, I have expectations and standards of them, the people I care so much for, but they will never meet them because my expectations are not their own… And they may never be. And thus, I’ve become the problem.

I’m causing the problem between us. I want too much, and when I get disappointed – no, when my world gets shattered… That’s it. Why live anymore? I don’t want to hide the fact that last week, I almost did it. I almost left the world, but… Something in me told me to call someone. Message someone. Do anything. There are people who care about you right at this very second who are available to take your plea of help. They love you, and won’t see it as a burden. They just want you safe and alive and to hear that you’ll be okay.

It is the hardest thing and most depressing thing in the world to be the very thing you cannot stand. I’m also taking a group-therapy session that is going to cut me open a lot more and make me realize my denials and hopefully in the end, recover from it. After the first week of answering questions, that’s when I made this realization. I also realized if I continued with this study, I am going to be opening every wound that I’ve tried so hard to hide in order to be a normal functioning member of society. I am going to get back on medication, even though I’ve hid from it because I want so much to be just like everyone else and to not be over emotional in the negative ways that I am.. But even when I did hide everything, I still had outbursts of anger, manic depression, and fits of rage that almost split me in to another persona that I began to call Her. I would watch Her do all of these awful things because I didn’t want to admit that I was making myself worse, and that it was me that I could no longer stop in it’s path… I think Her is gone, now, though. I admitted that it was me who was the monster, and not she. I think that destroyed her.. But it also destroyed me. I was not getting better, and I was not hiding it very well. And everyone close to me was beginning to notice.

So I guess I’ve been lying so much that now I realize I’m going to need to take the medication again, and just like you, I know it’s the biggest pain in the ass to find a doctor under your insurance, to make sure you can pay the ungodly amounts for the psychiatrist, the prescriptions, AND the expensive counseling. And you have to try all the damn medications, and the one that works best for you, and to do that you have to be on them for a couple of damn months and possible feel WORSE than you were before, and then when you change you have to wait another few damn months to get off the effects of whatever it used to be, in order to feel what might come.

And then you have to find time in the middle of everything else in your life to go to the damn things, to sit in the appointment rooms waiting for your appointment which started two hours ago to finally call you in so you can be in and out — and late for work, or class, or picking up your kid. Thank God school will be done in May 15th. My only goal is to reach it.

I feel you Catie. I really do. The line that scared me the most of your last blog post was that you were going to fight this if it kills you, and I don’t want to end on that note because lately that thought has been way too close for comfort and all I want to do is get help. I know it will be a pain in the dick to get there, but if I hadn’t buried it so much, I might be there by now and that much closer to being as ‘normal’ as I can be while drugged. I’ve been trying to take the cowardice and easy way out for so long, and it’s caught up. I can’t anymore. I can’t. I’ve got to go and take it… Otherwise, I may never be able to truly let go. Really let go.

So… Good luck to both of us.
Miranda