| Wednesday, May 31, 2006 |
| Heal Over |
It isn't very difficult to see why
You are the way you are
Doesn't take a genius to realise
That sometimes life is hard
It's gonna take time
But you'll just have to wait
You're gonna be fine
But in the meantime
Come over here lady
Let me wipe your tears away
Come a little nearer baby
Coz you'll heal over
Heal over
Heal over someday
And I don't wanna hear you tell yourself
That these feelings are in the past
You know it doesn't mean they're off the shelf
Because pain's built to last
Everybody sails alone
But we can travel side by side
Even if you fail
You know that no one really minds
Come over here lady
Don't hold on but don't let go
I know it's so hard
You've got to try to trust yourself
I know it's so hard, so hard
Come over here lady
Let me wipe your tears away
Come a little nearer baby
Coz you'll heal over, heal over, heal over someday
This song is how I feel at the present moment. Enjoy. See ya'll when I get back. |
posted by The Devil @ 7:11 AM  |
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| Monday, May 22, 2006 |
| uh oh.......BIG time..... |
Uhm.....
I lost it.
BIG TIME.
I'm so sorry, Randy.
Please, forgive me!
I lost the diamond off of my ring. Yes, the shiny sparkly pretty heart off of my Valentine's gift, has been lost. I searched frantically through the dirt and dust and dead spiders at the gym. I looked on the carpet, and on the stairs. On the gravel where I parked. Everywhere. I couldn't believe it. I called RC to let him know I lost the diamond. I called my insurance and they'll cover it without me paying a deductable, but still. That was the one he picked out for me. I doubt they'll replace it. But maybe they'll give me money for it, so that we can replace it. I don't know how claims work or what I have to do exactly. I just asked, and they said as long as we have the receipt and the paper stuff on it, I can put in a claim. Which is good! But I still feel awful.
I was supposed to meet up TG and her blogger friends, but Gabe wanted to act like a bad ass on Saturday and pissed me off. I hate changing my plans for him, but I refuse to have a kid act like a fool in public. Especially in front of people who have never met me. I know 3 year olds will act well.....like 3 year olds. But my son is usually pretty well behaved. But he had been getting on my nerves all day. And not to put them off, but I had a lot of stuff to get done.
We are almost (and I will use almost very, very loosely) done unpacking and putting our massive amounts of stuff away. And on Wednesday we'll get our stuff for our bedroom. So, I am really happy that we got nice stuff. Hopefully everything comes in good condition and that we get everything in. |
| posted by The Devil @ 9:05 AM |
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| Wednesday, May 17, 2006 |
| Letter Game |
This is how it works: Comment on this entry and I will give you a letter. Write ten words beginning with that letter in your journal, including an explanation of what the word means to you and why, and then pass out letters to those who want to play along.
My letter is "U"...so here I go!
- Uniform: I wear a uniform. Do I wear it proudly? Probably not. But anyway I just thought I would start with that. I mean after all, that is why I came into the Army. It was all because of the damn green uniform!
- Uterus: Carrier of life. The magical place inside of me that carries beautiful children like my son. Without this I wouldn't have been able to have my rowdy boy! I have one, guys don't. Enough said.
- Unconditional: The type of love I want and give to those around me. I want to be able to live this life knowing I at least gave everyone around unconditional love. Why? Because we all deserve it. It is the type of love that binds parents and children. It is the love that I get from RC.
- Unfinished: I feel like this most of the time. I feel like I have paused my life while still living it. I know I have a very high potential to be something wonderful someday, I am just not there yet. I am nowhere near being done. I am still in the crock pot of life, cooking away to a end up a tasty meal that even Nicole Ritchie can refuse. Hee hee hee......
- Uncle: My Tio Gustavo. He is by far my absolute most favorite uncle. He helped my mother when I was just a baby and she first immigrated to Texas. He has always been like a doting father to me, and has my upmost respect for being a hardworking citizen and for teaching me the value of family.
- Ugly: Because I am. And I feel like it today. So yeah, fuck you.
- United States (of America!): It's my home. And it's the place where I will always want to be. Yes, the politics are fucked up. Yes, there are so many things backwards in this country. But damn it, I am so proud to be an American and to be able to say I served in this country's Army. I may not agree with a lot of the crazy people out there, but it's a wonderful place. Where we have that right to voice our opinions.
- Uncertain: I am uncertain about a lot of things. Who I will be. Where I will be. What I want to do when I get there. Who I will be with (hopefully RC!). If I will end up being a good mother. If I will stay in the Army. If I will get out. If I will go to school. So much up in the air about my life, right now.
- Ulcer: Because I will eventually get one from worrying about all my ugliness, my uncertainty, and my unfinishedness. Damn it!
- Uncluttered: I hate clutter. But it's taking over my life. Once I get my house in order I will have my beautiful uncluttered life. Well, maybe not so much. After all there is beauty in chaos.
- Uggs: Yes, I am the (not so) proud owner of some these. I fell for the trend 2 years ago, and I still have them. I can't bring myself to throw them out. Why?? Because they cost me over $200, and I refuse to throw anything that expesive out. Oh yeah, and they're so damn comfortable!
So there! I finished it! I didn't think it was possible. But I managed to do it. U is a hard letter. I promise to be nicer with ya'll. |
| posted by The Devil @ 1:55 PM |
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| Friday, May 12, 2006 |
| Me. |
I haven't been writing as often for so many different reasons. I am just tired. Of everything it seems like that. I think I have begun what seems like a small depression. We are moving. Everything is not going as planned. I still haven't packed up my apartment. I still haven't finished painting the new place. I am not ready to hand over my son. I am not ready to be 23. I am not in any way ready for a summer that is childless, and full of me time. Yes, I want a break. But not such a long coma from my son. I want to wake up and see his smile everyday. I am already getting teary eyed thinking about it.
Who will demand kisses and hugs on instant? Who will want me to read bedtime stories to him? Who will climb all over me when I just want to lay there? Who will argue back with me with, "But, I love you, Mommy!!"? Who will poop in his diaper and stink up the new place? Who will make me suffer through more child movies? I can answer this. Certainly not Gabe. He will be with my XH in Texas and I will be here. In Maryland. 1600 miles away.
My birthday is next Tuesday. I am upset about it. I didn't think that I would feel like this. I am so much more worn down at my mere 23 than I think most 30 year olds are. I feel wise beyond my years. I think back to my 18th birthday. And to each one after that. I have spent the last 4 birthdays with the same person. My XH. He never made a spectacle of my birthday. It was a reason for him to give me jewelry I wouldn't wear, and take me to restaurants I didn't like. I was the perfect trophy wife. I would abide his every wish. And now, for the first time in four years, I think I will actually miss having someone else tell me how to spend MY birthday. Or what I really wanted on MY birthday.
I don't want gifts or expensive meals. I don't want breakfast in bed. I just want my new house to be all organized, cleaned (painted!), and moved into. I want to spend time with my son. I want to just sleep. I want to just be happy. Why is it so difficult to me? I know that with my birthday, soon enough my son will be reunited with the XH. And with that will come teary phone calls. Depression. And a feeling of uselessness. Of not being worth something.
I haven't decided if I want to do school or find a second job. I will kinda support my XH when Gabe is with him. Since he got screwed on paper work, and some other stuff he asked if I could send him some extra cash. I didn't hesitate as I promised to send him some extra money. Can I afford it, why yes I can. Do I want to. Hell no. My extra money a month goes in savings. For OUR son. So he can have a little nugget when he grows up. I would love to commit to both the job and school. But we have a lot of stuff going on at work, and frankly when I get off I am basically worthless because I am so tired.
This post is just about everything that has been jumbled up in my head. I have a UTI. It is not fun. I feel awful, and I haven been taking out on everyone. I have displaced my anger towards everyone and put it on them. They are not the reason I am mad. Well, not completely. I am mad at myself. For being so selfish. For wanting to be something I shall never be. I hate that I am so jealous. That I am envious of others. I should be happy with myself, but I am not. I don't see the things that RC sees. I feel so.........ugly. Like the anger inside of me has transcended outwardly. Making me disfigured.
Eh, I don't know where I was going with that. I wish I could still write. You know entertaining things. But I can't find the right words. I don't feel it. It feels more like a chore. I am becoming more of a reclusive person. I have yet to make a good circle of friends. And since I don't like burdening people with my issues, I find it difficult for people to find me relatable. Or to feel that they can trust me.
I am weird. And I am sarcastic. I am in the words of my father, too modest and humble. Some people are intimidated by that. I know what I know. I know who I am. I am years apart from the invincible teenager with a craving for expensive drugs, loads of alchohol, and a hearty appetite for self-destruction. I am now a mommy to Gabe. A girlfriend/roommate to RC. I am the one who makes empty threats. The one who gets overwhelmed at most things. The one who over stresses and over analyzes just about everything. The one who would never get to realize her dreams. The one who recognizes her faults and flaws and points them out on a daily basis. I am tiresome. Whimsically drunk on motherhood, my "career", and on love. And best of all I am the eternal perfectionist.
Who can find these things endearing? Who can accept me with everything that I do wrong? Who can just overlook that I am not made in God's image but in my mother's? I am not a fallen angel, just a lost soul looking to be reunited with my loved ones. I write too often in my journal about how I am failing even my son. I leaf through the crinkled pages. The anger, frustration, and heartache written in each word, each curve of the ink spelling out my mania. Describing my depressions. Reading that you'd think I was this very angry, very sheltered housewife. Who didn't know how to love themselves. Who doesn't know how to be happy.
Well, I just wanted to get all this crap out of my head and out of my heart.
Have a nice weekend. I will come back on Wednesday with details from 30 Seconds to Mars and the rest of the moving process. |
| posted by The Devil @ 8:40 AM |
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| About Me |
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Name: The Devil
Home: Somewhere in, Texas, United States
About Me: I'm a young mom, who stresses out far too much.
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| Shoutbox |
"Before you do anything, think. If you do something to try and impress someone, to be loved, accepted or even to get someone's attention, stop and think. So many people are busy trying to create an image, they die in the process."-Salma Hayek |
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