Ok not to be Ok.

A long time ago I had a dear friend tell me that I could help people with all the sh*t I had been through. I laughed her off at the time, but now–looking back, some days I feel like all the sh*t I went through might need to be put to good use, so something good actually comes out of it.

I’ve been working the last couple years on getting my mental health under control and part of that is now tackling topics I didn’t want to deal with and couldn’t deal with a long time ago.

We bought our first house and moved in last month. So we’ve been unpacking some stuff. Today I was unpacking a box that had my mom’s scrapbook of my little sister’s life–today was an exhausting day in itself, but this was kind of the cherry on top.

The last few months I’ve been using “I am 30… do it/change it/etc…” to get myself to start making the changes I need to. Like, my life could be halfway or a third of the way (or somewhere in between) over and I am finding areas where I have pain or I am not happy with something. I don’t want to live like that any more. So, I’ve been working on making changes.

After my sister passed, I push a lot of stuff down and did a lot of faking because people don’t know how to handle grief. It’s ugly and messy and awkward. After one too many comments, I stuffed it all down for a while–people who hurt me, lied to me, etc. I tried my best to ignore it and I couldn’t bring myself to tell them how it felt or what it sounded like. I had lost my two best friends–there’s no manual on how to deal with that.

May be an image of 2 people and text that says 'Don t be afraid of losing people. Be afraid of losing yoursel By trying to please everyone.'

But–I am 30. Not thirty, flirty, and thriving. But, I am 30, tired, and done faking. I’ve told myself this a lot, but Demi Lovato’s song has basically been my theme song since it came out it’s Ok not to be Ok. My mental health is improving. I have more good days than bad now. But, it’s 100% okay to not be okay–whether it’s with something someone said or did. It’s okay to just be tired and unable to do anything.

As I am finally realizing that being me is best for me and my family, I am letting go of a lot of things and trying to be the big kid now and address other things that kind of “haunt me”. It’s not fun–whoever said adulting was–nope. lol.

The irony of this was I originally found a post saying to write a book about something that pisses you off, well, I figured I’d write one about all the things that happen after an accident that people shouldn’t do. But, I actually stopped halfway through this post and sent a few messages.

One to a friend who meant good, but I didn’t understand it at the time.

One to a friend who told me “an accident is called an accident for a reason because that’s what it was–an accident”. Reminding me, many times, that I didn’t want them to die. I didn’t purposefully cause it. But, those words have always stuck with me–14 years later and those words help push me through the grief. Yes, 14 years later, you still grieve–and sometimes it hurts just as bad as that day.

And the last one… the one that probably took everything in my soul to do. One that I’ve wanted to send for a really long time and finally did. I messaged my friend’s mom. When my friend passed, his friends blamed me. I remember MySpace (yeah–those days) being plastered with comments about how horrible of a person I was. Rumors of me being on drugs, speeding, or alcohol. Anything that put guilt on me. I was the driver. At the time, I figured anyone who could blame me didn’t know me or love me. I’ve grown to understand why people needed to do this though–when something bad happens, we try our best to make sense. Sometimes that’s putting the blame on someone–during that time, it was me. But, my friend’s mom–the night of the accident, she hugged me, never blamed me, and was more forgiving towards me that I could be myself. Unfortunately, because his friends were not, at 16 years old, I walked out of his funeral. I remember going to the movie theater with a friend and her family and just crying in the darkness.

It’s funny cause I started this thinking I’ll do what that post said and write a chapter at a time–but, it’s more like, I’ll heal one post at a time.

Yeah–30 years old, 14 years later–still healing. It never stops, my friends. Always healing, always changing, always learning, always growing. We never stop.

Overthinkers Unite! Mental dump.

I’ve worked Friday and Saturday night through the morning… so, Friday night I started at 10:30pm and left Saturday morning at 6:30am. I went back at 9:30pm Saturday night and left Sunday morning at 5:30am. I just got home from working 4.5 hours. 

But, back to why I was goi to write this… so, Saturday night, working in silence,  brain began to wander around.

It started because I was outside smoking–yeah, go ahead and judge, I haven’t quit yet–and when it’s early in the morning, pitch black, and no one else around, well my brain turns to crime shows. If I were to die today, would I be ready–would I have said everything I needed to?

From that came the following thoughts–and they are as deep as they were last night because I am tired and ready to just get this out of my head and be done with it all for now, while I decide what to do…

So, first thought–I left a job last year because I couldn’t handle the environment. One girl always had something to say about everything, usually negative, and a friend of mine would always get dragged into teasing me too. It resulted in all my energy gone, home after work crying, and not able to enjoy my time with my kiddos. So, I quit. I loved the job, but couldn’t do it emotionally. Well, fast forward and that girl left–I reapplied when my new job fell apart and didn’t get rehired, after they said I could always come back. I took it personally, but did a lot of the f#%* them attitude and eventually found a different job and accepted it because they were willing to let me start right away. I also got to pick my hours. 😜

Any way–so, when I worked with the negative girl, we got called into the office a lot and because of things (for the most part) I was not involved in at all. It hurt and I was not willing to be treated that way. 

I have thought about writing them a letter telling them how much I enjoyed the work, to congratulate them on their growth (business wise), and to thank them for my time there, while also explaining that this girl ruined my time there–but, would it really be worth it? What good would it do? They didn’t fight for me while I was there and I feel like I would be seeking validation that I am awesome and I am trying to have a f#** you I am awesome no matter what you think attitude. Writing them a letter, I feel like would be I would be handing them my heart and saying I need you to want me there–I don’t need them to. I just need to be okay with me. I have a new job I enjoy and I am decent at and I get to see my kids. I haven’t cried there once.

Another thing I thought of–I’ve been having issues with my family lately and holding onto these things and I think I finally figured out why. It’s not them, it’s the way I have approached the situation. The situation doesn’t really matter, but I got butt hurt because of my mom and sister and tried to cut off basically all communication because my husband and I felt like, once again, no one really gave a shit about us. We were just a buoy along for the ride, wherever they went. Well, we had a mental F that and did our own thing. 

When we moved here, I tried to repair the relationship with my sister, didn’t work. We didn’t ever see them and living with them, with our three kids, didn’t work. They went their way and we went ours. Didn’t see them until my mom moved out here. 

Here we are still and they’ve all moved away–again. Then we get asked to move and although I would love to move closer to my sister and have my kids cousins closer–I don’t want to. We have started to establish a life here–after 3.5 years. I’ve actually thought about returning to my hometown because no one would come see us–told spite, but I am allowed to think these things. 

But see, my hurt comes from the fact that I don’t feel the same love–and never have–from them and I got from my little sister. I have tried to build relationships with my sisters since my little sister passed, because I miss that kind of relationship, but it hasn’t worked. It won’t work. They aren’t her and they never will be. She and I went through so much, while my sister went through their stuff together.

She was the one that sat on my lap and told me that she and God still loved me, even when my insecure 16 year old ass told some nude pictures and sent them to random guys because I wasn’t okay with me. I was not okay with the fact that my sisters dated a dozen guys (each) in two years, had tons of guy friend and I couldn’t even get one to be my friend. My dad told me I looked like a boy. I was too skinny for my sister, hit puberty and was getting “too fat” for my mom. It wasn’t until I got sick with my oldest and lost 60+ lbs that I was told I looked good… yeah. Sorry, side tracked.

But, she was there for everything. I had zero secrets from her. And me trying to make a relationship like that happen with them-it’s not gonna. My sisters are their own person and I won’t ever connect with them in that same way.

So, for now–we’ll be here. Away from family, as usual. And we’ll go see them when we can–which is hardly ever, as it costs upwards of $2-3k to fly 5 people almost anywhere. 

I don’t know… just a lot goes on in my head late at night-or when it’s quiet and I am alone.

I am sure there’s more, but for now, there’s my brain. My inner most thoughts. 

And now it’s time for a beer, ice cream, shower, and sleep. Maybe even some Posh pampering. 😜