Unmoored

Hello, friends. Ever since my most recent Three Line Tales response post, I’ve been thinking a lot. About… well, everything. About my future. Specifically, what I thought my future would be like by now. Cute house with a big yard, two kids, married, a good career doing something I love, maybe even a dog. Hell, I at least thought I’d have my license by now. Sadly, that is not the case. None of it is.

Strap in for yet another pity party, folks.

I’ve written a lot in the past about all of the what if questions that plague me on a daily basis, and although I always advise others to not dwell on past mistakes and decisions, I’ve always had a hard time taking my own advice. On pretty much everything. Don’t get me wrong, given the opportunity, I’d never travel back in time to change anything, because the outcome would be completely uncertain. I may never meet my fiance, or have my son. Hell, I could die. Who really knows?

I definitely don’t. The Butterfly Effect and all that.

I wouldn’t change anything, but there are so many things I wish I had done differently. Things I kick myself over every day. I wish I hadn’t taken so many people in my life for granted, specifically, my mom. I wish I had opened up to her more, and tried harder to keep the lines of communication open after I left home. I wish I had focused on school more. I wish I had focused more on myself, and what I needed in my life, instead of trying to please everyone around me. I wish I hadn’t pushed everyone in my life away to pursuit a brand new life with a boy I had never even met in person. I wish I had gone to one of the many universities that I had been accepted to, and not left the country with said boy to go to a school that I never wanted to go to. I wish I had saved more money from the numerous, dead-end jobs, so that I could pay off my debts that I still owe to said school. I wish I had been smarter about life in general.

Mostly, I just wish I had gotten to know myself better. I spent so much time and energy worrying about everything and everyone in my life, and trying to run from my problems, that I lost myself. While other kids around me were branching out, deciding what path they wanted to take in their future to better themselves and start their lives in the real world, I was running around in virtual, fantasy worlds. Sure, I applied to schools, and I got into them. But I had no plan. Even when I thought I had a plan, it was bullshit.

Everything about me was bullshit.

I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know what I wanted. And now, I still don’t know who I am. I don’t know my strengths and weaknesses. I still don’t know what I want. I don’t even know how to take the steps to figure out what I want. I don’t know anything.

And now, as a 27 year old woman with no college degree, no real training of any kind, no connections, no money, no friends, and no particular set of skills, I feel lost. Completely and utterly lost. And I am barely keeping it together. Whenever anything feels like it is even remotely close to being within my grasp, it slips away. One step forward, ten steps back. Now, I feel like I am just floating through life, stuck frozen in time, even though I am getting older. I’m getting older at al what feels like an alarming rate, but I stay stuck in one place, watching everyone I know fly past me, collecting more achievements and successes than I could ever even dream of having for myself.

I feel like a failure. Every day. Like I’m nothing.

I hate feeling like this, and I hate that I’ve been feeling like this for as long as I have. I especially hate knowing that it is completely my fault that I’m in this dark place.

I don’t know what to do anymore.

Jan
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Unmoored

Three Line Tales: Pulse

tltweek67
Warm bodies vibrate against one another, bathed in the brilliance of fluorescent stage lights.
Our hearts pulse as one, guided by the rhythm.
Our voices are lost, drowned in a sea of chaos and harmony.
.
.
.
.
.
.
My weekly response for Sonya’s Three Line Tales (Week 67) writing challenge. Photo by Paulette Wooten via Unsplash.

#3LineTales

Dream Journal 5/9/17 | Scavengers

[Hello, friends! For those of you who don’t know, my horrible neighbors from across the hall have finally moved out! Our landlord asked us to keep an eye on them, because they owed several months of rent, and they figured they would try to skip out on it. Well, they were right. My neighbors moved out in secret, under the cloak of darkness, during a time they knew I’d be unable to reach the landlord. But I did let them know, and they are officially gone! Finally! It has been several weeks since they moved out, and Kyle and I noticed that they left several pieces of furniture, and other items in the apartment. Our landlord has yet to come by to clean out the place, and I have been anxiously awaiting the day, so that I can get a peek, and maybe a score. I’ve been having dreams about it, you guys. I had another one last night, and it was pretty crazy. Here we go!]

I was standing in the hallway of my building, talking to our maintenance guy, Rocky. He was finally coming to clean out our neighbors apartment, and I asked him nervously if I could take a look inside to see if we wanted anything, since it would all be getting thrown out. He laughed, and told me he was more than happy to let me take a look, because otherwise he was going to have to hire an army of movers. I opened the door to the apartment across the hall, and my jaw dropped. The place was immense. And still fully furnished.

The apartment seemed to stretch on and on, and I could stairs leading both upstairs and down, even though our apartment was only one story. There were couches, chairs, tables, candles and lights, and decorative objects everywhere, making the apartment look more like a cluttered furniture store than an apartment that people lived in. Some pieces were old and damaged, while others seemed to be brand new, and high end.

I ran back into my own apartment to get Kyle, and the two of us began roaming through the vacant apartment. At one point, I turned to see Kyle heading back toward our apartment, arms filled with dining chairs, and a large mirror. I grabbed a large, colorful ottoman, and a few really cool vases filled with decorative branches and fairy lights, and moved them to our place. I let Kyle continue to grab more pieces, and decided to explore the large, mysterious apartment. I found that it had at least 6 bedrooms, as well as some smaller, completely empty rooms, that looked straight out of a horror movie. In the basement, I found a large, above ground pool, completely filled with water, as well as a bunch of tiki torches and an entire patio set, which I left, because we didn’t have room. The setup was really pretty, though.

I also discovered an attic, which was filled with nothing but brand new kids toys, furniture, and clothing. Sandboxes, swings, cars, dolls, kids furniture, bedding, and virtually everything else you can think of. I called Kyle up to the attic, and told him to grab several items, including a cool twin bed frame, some bedding, and a weird caterpillar blanket thing.

Back on the main floor, I made my way to the back of the apartment. All of the rooms I passed seemed to be empty, but I could see a light on in the last room. The walls of the room were glass windows, and I could see a young woman sleeping in the stylish, fully furnished room. I walked in and shook her shoulder, and she awake angrily, immediately demanding that I leave. I explained the situation to her, and told her that everyone was gone, and she told me that they had just been there that morning. I told her no one had come or gone from the apartment in weeks, and she became confused about what day it was. I started grabbing the decorative pillows from off the bed, and she tried to wrestle them from my arms. I told her that none of the stuff belonged to her anymore, and she got angry and stormed out.

I took the pillows, along with a pretty lamp that I found in the hallway, back to my apartment, which was now filled with various furniture and other items. Kyle was in the process of putting a large, wooden dinging table and chairs in our kitchen, and I could see the young woman from before arguing with the maintenance guy outside our window. I started rearranging some of the decorative items in our living room.

I vaguely remember going back and looking through a closet filled with women’s clothing after that.

And then I woke up.

Thanks for reading, friends!

Jan

Re: The Sandman’s Q&A #3

Hello, friends! The Sandman is back with yet another fun, little Q&A, and I thought I’d make this a thing, and go for round 3! You know me, I love answering questions that give my brain a little workout. The more random, the better! Feel free to answer the questions yourself and send them his way, or write up your own post and use a pingback!

1) What was your very first alcoholic drink? Did you enjoy it?
I honestly can’t remember when my first drink was. I do remember having time sips of beer when I was much too little to have it (I’m talking still in the single digit age range), but I don’t really count those. I guess I didn’t start actually drinking until I was 14 or so years old, courtesy of my father, who was just a fantastic influence on me (sarcasm). He was in jail for the majority of my life, and that’s around the time he came out for a substantial amount of time, and it was how we bonded, or something. If he wasn’t asking me to get high with him, he was offering to run to the gas station to get me booze. I only ever took him up on the latter. Like I said, real great influence.

4a799ae1-0584-4753-9459-ffd138149f3d_1.a0e951acf9245a2b6d9f28318d9eb62aI also had a boyfriend at the time, and we would stay at my dad’s apartment until really late at night on the weekends, drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonades, which was my absolute favorite, and watching rated R movies. A few times, my dad even offered to let us watch porn, and said he’d leave us alone. Yeah, that offer was too weird to accept, but we did have some pretty epic makeout sessions. My mom would pick me up, and if it wasn’t obvious by my stumbling into the car that I was a bit tipsy, she would smell it on me, and immediately get angry. It was a weird time in my life.

My dad ended up going back to jail shortly after, which was really no surprise, and I didn’t really start drinking again until college, where vodka and Mountain Dew, vodka cranberry, and Amaretto Stone Sour were my drinks of choice. Crucify me if you want, but I’ll also mention that I hate beer. Any beer. Always have. Ugh.

I’ll also mention that I haven’t had a drink in nearly 4 years!

2) Who introduced you to WordPress? Why did you first open an account or get involved?
I feel like I have always had a WordPress account. I have zero idea when my first one was. As far back as I can remember, maybe starting in middle school, I always had to have some sort of online journal/diary to vent my frustrations. I’ve used MySpace, Open Diary/Teen Open Diary, Blogger, and WordPress. That I can remember. I create and delete like a madwoman. I’ve used them for blogging, poetry, short stories, surveys, erotica… you name it. I also had a WordPress site for my podcast, Something Suggestive, up until April 2013. This is the longest running blog I have ever owned, and I’m hoping to keep the momentum going for at least another year. That’s a goal, right?

3) When was the first time you had sex?
Oh, boy. Um. Hmm… I wish I could remember. It’s a complicated question, for so many reasons. Let’s just keep it simple. The first time that I actually count as real sex was when I was 14. I had my first serious boyfriend, who was a year older than me, and our first time was in his bedroom after school one day, when we were supposed to be watching his younger brother. We just sat him in front of the TV, and ran downstairs for a quickie. No awkwardness, no hesitation, no weirdness afterward. It was pretty easy.

4) What has been your worst fashion disaster?
This question implies that I have some sort of fashion expertise. Well, I don’t. I’m a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Always have been, always will be. Sometimes I switch it up with a cute cardigan, or a cold-shoulder shirt, or even a cute dress for family holiday events, but I usually keep it pretty casual.

af933bca87801fea6a095073ed84c5a7With that being said, one thing did come immediately to mind when I read this question… my 6th and 7th grade school pictures. I wish I could show you, but thankfully, I don’t have any physical pictures of that catastrophe. Let’s just say, I wore the exact same baby blue and red fake jersey-style t-shirt for both years on picture day, and completed the look with a horrible haircut, bad smile, and a red, paisley bandana on my head that had NO business being there. Ugh. I wish I had a time machine…

Well, that’s it for now! Thank you for reading, friends!

If you want to see more, or want to check out the questions for yourself, you can check out all of my answers to past Sandman Q&A posts here.

Jan

Re: The Sandman’s Q&A #2

Hello, friends! For those who don’t remember, several months ago, a fellow blogger posted a short Q&A on his blog, and invited others to join him in answering. I decided to participate, and you can read my answers here. Well, The Sandman is at it again with a second Q&A! So, I thought I would shake off these stormy weather blues, and do a bit of writing today, since things are pretty chill in my house today. You can read the questions, and my answers, below!

#1) Describe one moment from your youth that is impenetrably seared into your memory.

Honestly, my memory is pretty fuzzy when it comes to things that happened in my childhood. I’m not entirely sure why. I am able to recall certain things in vivid detail, but for the most part, there are huge gaps in my memory, where I can’t remember a damn thing. High school was particularly traumatic for me, and many of it is a blur. Middle school is basically the same story, but slightly less severe. Maybe I just didn’t care enough to retain the memories. Who knows?

There are two memories in my life that often pop into my head, presenting as vivid, flashbulb memories. The first, and possibly the earliest memory of my life, is of the backseat windows of the first car my mom ever had with me. One of the back windows had two parts, and the back part was shaped like a shark fin, and had little black dots on it. I remember looking out this window as a baby. My mom said she got rid of that car before my first birthday, and that there is no way I could have remembered it. But I do.

The second memory is from middle school. When I was in the sixth grade, I had a crush on a boy in my class, named Billy. He had an older brother, who was in the eighth grade at the time, and I liked him, too. However, neither had any interest in a relationship with me, friendship or otherwise, and were often cruel to me, teasing me, and spreading rumors about me. I had a pretty thick skin back then, and it didn’t bother me much.

Until the final dance of the school year.

I showed up alone, but immediately met up with a few friends of mine, who reassured me with urgency that everything was going to be okay. I was confused. Long story short, Billy and his brother had created a fake AIM (AOL Instant Messenger) profile, using my name, and faked a ridiculous conversation between “me” and themselves. Then, after fabricating numerous embarrassing confessions, they printed out copies of the conversation, and plastered them all over the walls of the cafeteria, where the dance was being held.

I was furious. I confronted the duo, who were sitting in the back of the cafeteria with friends, too cool to participate in the dance, while my friends took down the posters. I made it very clear that I was not embarrassed, and that I felt sorry for them for being pathetic and immature enough to put so much effort into trying to humiliate a girl they supposedly had no interest in. I got my point across. I remember telling a chaperone, who was probably a parent, and not a teacher, and they said they couldn’t do anything about it. And that was it. We took down the posters, we danced, and we moved on. I got over it. After that night, the boys never bothered me again.

#2) Would you be upset if a long-term partner confessed that s/he’d committed a serious crime before you met? How do you think it would affect your relationship?

Honestly, it would depend on the crime. There are many unforgivable crimes. Was it assault? Burglary? Rape? Murder?Did they go to prison, or is this a deep, dark secret? Have they turned their life around for the better? Everyone makes mistakes, and does stupid things in their lifetime, especially when they are young and stupid. I can forgive things like assault (assuming it was justified in some way, and not some sort of hate crime), certain kinds of theft, certain drug offenses, traffic violations, etc. I am a pretty forgiving person, as long as they have changed for the better, and treat me well.

However, there are things that I can not forgive. There are some crimes that are committed by people, often more than once, and it defines what kind of person they are. A lot of times, they don’t change. I won’t go into detail, but whatever you’re thinking that I’m talking about, you’re probably right. Sometimes, there are no excuses, and no coming back from something. If I discovered something horrible in their past (and chances are, they probably didn’t go to prison for it if we’re in a relationship, meaning it was a secret), I would confront them. I would hear them out. But in the end, I probably would not stay in the relationship. And, depending on the seriousness of the crime, I may even turn them in.

Well, there are my answers to The Sandman’s Q&A #2. I invite you all to answer these questions for yourselves, either in the comments, or as a pingback post. Thanks for reading, friends!

Jan