Tag Archives: drama

Allowed to be Angry

In full swing I have been pissed at Kylie, and rather than possibly projecting my inner child onto her, I’m not allowing guilt to conflict with my ability to utilize my anger as a tool for boundary setting. I made it absolutely clear that if she’s comfortable trashing the kitchen floor so everyone has to jump over the trash spewing out of the bin because it’s not Sunday night, then from now on she has no problem committing to cleaning the bathroom on certain days since she’s been exploiting and taking advantage of me for months by not lifting a finger and doing shit. 

Because Ben was in on this conversation, he at least came downstairs and threw out what was on the floor, and agreed to wipe down counter tops, sweep floors, and will bring the trash out whatever day Kylie is not doing it and needs to be done, but he’s going in for spinal tap surgery today and will be gone for a week. 

Thankfully Alex and Destiny have been helping me through this, and agree her level of immaturity is through the roof. Last I knew destiny and Kylie were still friends since we all worked at great bay, but twice in a row that destiny was at my house, Kylie ignored her. Destiny was unloading all the racism she and her boyfriend have to deal with since trump was elected, and to be treated with such disrespect was awful! She pried to pass it off as “I’m too old for this drama”, but it lingered 24 hours later. My guess is Kylie insisted on picking sides between Sarah P, and Destiny rather than allowing their conflict to be their own, and picked sides. They were still friends when Kylie and I were friends, and destiny has a conversation from a few months ago and everything was fine. I don’t get it, but that was a super shitty thing Kylie did. 

Kylie also came home yesterday morning talking about how she got into an accident and wasn’t sure if she’d need a rental to get by, but as the story unfolded for each person she told (since she insisted on talking in the kitchen instead of her bedroom), the story subtlety changed until her mom showed up. It went from a vehicle spinning off and side swiping her to rear ending her. When I finally saw her car for myself there were 3 scratches and no dents in her bumper at all, nor anything on the side. Seriously, maybe I’m just getting too old for this level of drama too, but this is just crap. >.>’ 

Alex and I got some serious girl time in last night with tacos and tequila, and we’re rotating Tuesday nights. We were talking about how awesome it is we ended up being being friends, and got a serious amount of laughs and political discussion in. I needed it.


Dropping Tears of Rage to the Floor

My dream starts off in a dim cafeteria that only has small windows towards the top of the double story ceiling to provide any light; I’m volunteering through hannaford by servicing people in need when I hear a familiar voice “I wanna see carol, I miss her so much.” I’d recognize that pouty voice anywhere since I served her for almost 3 years as her team leader. I come rushing around the corner and give becky a huge hug and begin cry my eyes out with her on her shoulder, saying I’m sorry over and over again. Danielle, my supervisor at hannafords, looks on fondly.

Later I run into my former boss Sarah, and ask her how I can help out. She hands me a box of gift cards to be stocked from local stores and restaurants, mostly from outback steak house. I dropped the box as I’m walking away and they all spread across the floor; the box is no longer usable. I organize the cards in piles and pick them back up, and drop them again, but they remain mostly in the piles I put them in. I put them away and look to the back of the room… That’s when I see her… Gina. She now drops something and I go over to help her pick it up. She doesnt know I’m here and doesn’t make eye contact, so in my generosity there’s a spiteful “fuck you I’m nice” element. “Kill them with kindness” comes to mind.

“Oh im so glad you guys are here. The work you all do is wonderful; you guys should come work for us” she says with a faux simper.

“Sorry, but I already did that once before, and I’ll never do it again.”

She finally looks at me and I’m beaming at her. She’s stunned, and I continue on holding on to my power and a slow simmering rage towards her to exert my dominance, tell her how much I love my job now, and how much it’s a shame that I’ll never work for such a terrible employer again. Gina struggles to find a snarky comment, and I leave before she gets the chance.

This time I’ve given a clothing donation to take care of,  but to my horror my dirty shirt and 2 pairs of underwear are among them! I’m trying desperately to conceal them by wrapping them up in a bundle, but they keep falling out and the stack gets bigger and heavier. Gina walks by and snarks “you should be more careful next time” with a smirk on her face. I ignore her and make it sound as if I can’t hear her. I brush it off and pick myself back up, not wanting to be phased.

In the next row I hear someone say “oh look, it’s carol Simpson! Oh, never mind, you’re too tall! Ha ha ha” when I look I see Ellen had said that to Bee in gest as a way of making fun of me. “Oh fuck you” I scream at the top of my lungs, but no one hears me or cares in a room crawling with people. I storm off and try to center myself.

I’m outside and near a body of water I think, but before me buried in sand is a bunch of stones – onyx, hemetite, jasper, sun stone, moon stone… And these are all mine! They’re from my bedroom! My brother Jim is nearby, and where he’s stolen from me before I furiously storm up and confront him. “DID YOU TAKE MY STONES” I screm at full force. Jim can’t take ownership of what he’s done, and mom and big Jim are now standing to my left. “Just tell her you did it” mom says, since jims face is now twisted with embarrassment and guilt. He says he did, and I launch into a speech asking him why he feels it’s okay to treat me like shit and disrespecting me through my belongings, but most importantly those are healing stones, and he tried to sabotage my ability to heal in stealing them.

Just then my mother snarks “ironic isn’t it; now you know how I feel.” She was referring to when I was 14 I had stolen from her, but when I tried to explain to her that was different cause little jim is now an adult, big Jim (his dad) steps in and says something, but I don’t remember what it was. I know I threw my hand up in a “stop” gesture, and told him I didn’t give a shit what someone as abusive and negligent as him has to say; what I do know is that I was seething with rage.

Suddenly there’s a restaurant dining room connected too the home kitchen I’m standing in, and I’m screaming at mom and Jim, but they don’t care and disregard me as crazy and irrational with a whole restaurant of people judging me silently and taking my moms side. I felt like telling people off in that moment and defending myself as not crazy, but I chose to ignore them instead, pretending the kitchen is a barrier that keeps me safe from the crowd of diners. Little Jim never apologized, and I don’t recover all my stones from the beach; there was one in particular that has gone missing and I start contemplating making Jim pay me back or just buy me a new one.

Family Drama and the Best Man

Im in Boston or some other huge city trying to avoid my grandparents, Angie, Ashley, and Danny; I have no prob running into Ryan. I seem to recall being in a mall at first, but then it transitions into the city. Architecture and landscaping looks familiar only to me because I’ve been here before in my dreams, but it doesn’t exist in real life. It’s always when I run away from people or am trying to catch up too then I end up here. I remember giving Ryan a hug in the mall and trying to catch up to him while Angie and grandma are combative and present a faux grandur in their confrontation towards me. Ashley and grandpa are paired up together as information exploiters and drama creators; I hold my head high around them with my own air of pride and conceit, but it’s the defense I use so they can’t get me down. 
At some point the dream transitions and I end up being a backseat observer, following the events that unfold before me with no real attachment to the storyline, much like an extra cast in a movie to walk down the street. I remember this guy named Christian watching me dance at the mall (now watch me whip, now watch me nae nae), and he invites me to this wedding as part of a dance party. I love weddings, so sure, I follow him…it turns out Christian was the best man and had to give a speech, but once we’re at the wedding everyone begins to wonder where the bride is. Someone finally receives a text, and the bride decided she’s not showing up. She fled the country and she’s not coming back. The husband, fearing how this not only reflects on him, but worried about the guests who’d all showed up at their own expense for this moment, decided that it is a party and should remain that way, but before people start to enjoy themselves, the best man must now give an impromptu speech at the grooms request in light of circumstances, in order to comfort people and talk about how amazing groom is. It turns out Christian is terrified of public speeches with major anxiety, and now that the events have changed, he has no speech to read off, and he’s in the spot light. He couldn’t get beyond 2 words before choking over himself..

“Uh… I..”

I could hear his thoughts. Christian wanted to say he thought the groom was amazing, but couldn’t. He didn’t know where to start, he didn’t know how to begin it. I’m in the audience hearing his thoughts, hearing what he cannot say, when suddenly something goes horribly wrong. No longer is he figuritey choking on his own words, he’s now doing it in real life. He turns a deep blood red color, collapses on stage, and dies in front of everyone to the horror of the groom. We find out later Christian died from a drug overdose combined with the single glass of alcohol he had consumed at the wedding. It was purely by accident, and the drug was ecstasy, meant to be used as some form of elation to counter the anxiety he was anticipating before going on stage…

Strangely enough, I felt sad for Christian, and it never occurred to me to feel bad for the groom until hindsight kicked in from writing this dream… The groom lost so much more, but all I could feel was sadness for the best man. 



For the past two days I’ve had so much to say… so much I want to say. The problem was A) I get a whole blog typed and it doesn’t save before it gets lost (thanks wordpress) or I just didn’t have the time.

Yesterday I was so mad…. so mad. The controlling fragment of my ex reared it’s ugly head, and sadly I pulled the trigger in the middle of my anxiety attack. I must remember that one bubble of text on an Iphone can equate to three on his, but I neglected to mention that part. Ever since my birthday all the insecurities he instilled into me have decided to flow upstream through my veins and manifest itself in troubling ways.

I never felt good enough for him.
I always felt inadequate.
Since the beginning he was ashamed of me…
I wish I had had the strength to leave him sooner.

The problem is, you take narcissistic personality disorder (which now no longer exists as of the new DSM) and mix it with someone who has codependency problems, low self-esteem, abandonment issues, culturally abandoned the lifestyle one was brought up in, and is 18, and an entire storm of manipulation occurs. If only the sex hadn’t been so damn good… and that was the problem, especially since he was my first. After years of exploring someone so intimately sex no longer is an act – it’s a craft. Kissing? It’s an art; it’s expressive in both giving and taking. When the physical meets the metaphysical your world shifts on it’s axis.

*sigh* I’ve spent two years hating him and keeping him at a distance through antagonistic measures as a preventative means to ensure he doesn’t get too close…. the problem is I was lying because it wasn’t who I was. I hated acting so bitter and betraying my innermost self, but it felt extremely necessary…. life dependent even. I still want him to have no part in my life, and I don’t want to know what goes on in his…. it infuriates me, and brings up even more garbage from our not-too-distant life. I’ve had a chance to sit and think so hard for two years… once I was ready…. to objectively consider my part, as well as his in the relationship. I know my faults, and I know his (more so because he lacks the ability to look within himself). Everything he does is always circling around his ego. He doesn’t seem to understand empathy, and runs on an entirely selfish modality – I in fact am so much the opposite I have a hard time putting on the breaks so I don’t end up hurting myself…. and that’s where the crux began. When a relationship stops becoming selfless and starts becoming selfish, it fails. Our problem was a lack of mutual reciprocity; I was always give…. he was always take. I was too young, too foolish, too innocent, and too inexperienced to tackle the big dogs…. but I did, and lost in a way that has scarred me for life.

I’ll never forget feeling that way… wanting to die… running to the hospital begging for anti-depressants because I wanted to kill myself. Instead I got 3 anti-anxiety pills under the table from the hospital and never took them. They’re still sitting in my bathroom, though now expired. After all the shit I endured for months prior too, wanting to keep us together after cheating multiple times over and telling everyone I cheated on him instead, I find out that he invited his man/woman lover over to my house to have sex on my bed while I was out getting my psychology degree, desperate to find a way to keep us all together. This was the tipping point. I never wanted to see him again, and I was never the same person again. Thank god “it” said he/she was tipsy and didn’t come over…. more revolting was my son was home, and we share the same bedroom… my bed is in there. There were two major fears I had with my ex and our child… A) He would bring him over to his house where all the fuck-up’s live, and B) He would invite a woman over when I was in school. He did exactly both.

Two months of trauma ensued thereafter once I finally shut the door on him for good, and the silence began. Symptoms that could only be diagnosed as PTSD kicked in, and once the intensity of it all left (and my sanity slowly returned from my mental breakdown) I was left with, and am still left with, and anxiety disorder. I have a panic attack nearly everyday. I regret everyday not leaving him when I had the chance many many years ago. I hate myself for loving him.

Fuck…. I have to get ready for work, and I have him to contend with today. This was more therapeutic then I intended, but now the residue is eating me away 😦 Panic attack in 3… 2… 1…

Embracing One Another


I was traveling with a large group of SDA friends, former SDA friends, and random people from SDA academies that I didn’t know. We ended up at this indoor camp retreat – much like natures classroom. The room we’re in is a half-moon shape with boards of wood angled just so to make the curve around half the room. I, Jeff, and Stephanie are up against the wall; I’m lying on this half bed/couch thing facing the entrance in front of me. Stephanie is standing to the left and started chatting away with a few people. Jeff is to my right sitting on the couch. Ryan U. appears through the front door, and I secretly pang a little inside. He was here because of some sort of competitive thing where he and a few friends were doing some boot-camp style competition, and needed a place to crash. Ryan initially sits next to me, and I’m polite and say hi. Soon he’s getting on with Jeff and laughing it up about whatever. I wish his brother was beside me instead.

Well, my mind must have agreed with me, because in walks his brother Jay, and Ryan seems to disappears into thin air. Jay was all too happy to see me (for once.) He sits down beside me on this bed thing and we start to chat. He’s tired from training, and wants to sleep, but a presentation is about to begin. The man in charge switches off the lights and throws on a movie that none of us care to watch. All of us in the room pretty much ignore it, and soon people start to fade out. After a while Jay & I inch our way closer to one another on this bed/couch thing. First were sitting upright, then were sitting with my arm linked in his, then he holds my hand and slouches down, until eventually were laying down snuggled together. The odd thing is – were both happy to finally be in each others embrace. Time slips by slowly, and it feels like an eternity I got to stay curled up with him.

Finally I saw Ryan in a reflection across the room, but his reflection was sitting beside Jay. I pick my head up to look and find him, but he’s not here… kind of like a phantom sighting. I tell Jay Ryan was here, and he picks his head up to scan the room too. We give up because neither of us want to escape one anothers embrace. I realize right then and there I’m dreaming and panic a little, which sends my dreams to a hault, and forces me to wake up and write this down.

No Fun. Not Fair. Fuck. >.>’

*Sigh* I guess my mind is doing this because Peter freaked me out. Jay told me in an email “I’m not a christian anymore,” and I took it that he was no longer going to church. A few times I’ve gone last year, and not once did I see him. The day I decide to go back, Peter tells me he’ll be here next week. Crap. I am shocked that Peter seemed happy to see me.

Varying Elements

This whole thing took place at “Hesser College,” but it was a highschool.

I know Dr. Beemer was my teacher for part of it, and I’m pretty sure we were chatting to the point of bull-shitting around about video games and such, but then he had us do a group activity. What that group activity was I dont remember, but I know that towards the end I started singing rucka rucka ali’s emo like a natzi as I left the classroom and it fell silent. I guess I offended everyone when I sang the first 3 lines of the song. As I sheepishly came back a little later everyone had left except for stephanie who was transitioning to the next class, and that class was in the same room. Beemer was there for a moment gathering the last of his supplies to leave, and he didnt say a word as he walked out the door. I wasn’t in this next class that was about to begin, so I sat on the couch in the same room (why there’s a couch I have no idea.) For some reason me lying on the couch blended with my sleeping ritual, and I was horrified when I realized I was only wearing a skirt that exposed my boobs to the arriving class, only to be covered by a blanket. I ended up finding an alternative outfit on the counter that seemed to be from my clothes, so put it on. That’s when travis from the SDA church came in and said hi to me. It was a little awkward and I wasn’t too thrilled to see him, but whatever. I left the classroom to avoid more people I didn’t want to see; that’s when I ran into Brianna. She was trying to get close and say hi, and I didn’t want her too, so I avoided her as much as I could. Eventually I was backed into an elevator and she stood right in my face smirking and saying hi. -.-’ She was trying to be friendly and I just didn’t want to hear it.  She is too much drama as a human being and even though she’s a great person at heart, she has a tremendous amount of growing up to do. The dream ends with me looking out the glass elevator to see the surrounding landscape. It looked green and serene, for a business park anyway