Tag Archives: Emotion

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.


Ebb & Flow: The Emotional Tide


The surface is starting to break… white roars from the ocean that would normally soothe start to produce anxiety within me… these are my tides. These are my oceans. These are my emotions. Something is stirring inside me…. this isn’t just sadness… this is anger. I wanted one without the other….

Why the fuck did my therapist need to be away when I’m breaking the next level of my journey…

Why the fuck do I not have anyone to talk too…

Why the fuck do I feel like I want to go home but yet I’m sitting in my bed…

I need to nurture myself…

I need to nurture my tears…

No… I don’t need to tame the ocean… do I become it?

Its amazing how one person can fear the ocean while another idolizes and embraces it… the ocean of self.

I hate myself.

I love the ocean.

Even within myself I am entirely cryptic when I’m not even trying…

So close, yet so far…..

I hate my life

Please forgive the stero-typical teenage drama-feasting title, but I have been plagued by anxiety, stress, depression, and tears, and I was hoping it was PMS but it’s not. It’s life. I can’t stand it.

1) I hate being a single mother

Let me make it known that I don’t hate being a mom. I love my son, and he means the world to me; what I hate is raising an autistic child by myself. Every time something comes up that even remotely looks like enjoying life comes up, I have to deny it because I have to place needs before wants. My ex on the other hand, even though he has many solid good points about him, is a selfish a-hole. I get jealous every time I hear that he got to go out and have fun with friends at late night concerts or go hiking up a mountain… I don’t get to do any of that. I hate being jealous. It’s not fair that I should have to take the full load of raising our son and he gets off scott free. There’s a new job I want to apply for thats $50k a year, more than enough to get me off the food stamps and live, but my ability to accept it hangs in the balance thanks to the time I have to spend driving to daycare in time to pick up my son before paying a late fee, picking up the babysitter, dropping them off at my house, and then drive an hour to concord to do my masters degree. As it stands I wouldn’t need to pay for a second babysitter if my ex would step up to the plate and help when I’m in school. His excuse is work hours, but he can adjust his schedule to make it work, but he doesn’t want too because he wants to spend time with his friends at their houses having fun when I can’t do the same. Shit, I cant even invite them over because of my crazy next door neighbor I keep calling the police on. All I wan’t is a little support for school, and a little freedom in order to take better care of myself. Is this so unrealistic? Is this too much to ask for? That reminds me…

2) The pressure from school is weighing on me

It turns out that in order for financial aid to bill my course with federal loans, I have no choice but to maintain at minimum a B- average or else I pay the term out of pocket, and can’t move forward until that bill is paid. I am literally fucked if I don’t do well. 😦 How am I supposed to do that if I accept a job that’s full time? By the same token…

3) I can’t afford to live right now

I received my notice saying my lease wont be renewed after 8 years of being here, thanks to a check bouncing in June and late payments…. of course they’re late, I don’t make enough money; but don’t tell the state that. Apparently I make enough to be able to lose food stamps by $20 if I go back to working a 30 hour work week. I work 24 now and can only put food on the table for 2 weeks out of the month…. in exchange I live disconnect notice to disconnect notice between the electric and my phone bill. I have to be sure I don’t go anywhere beyond work or else I don’t have enough gas to last me the week, and now Concord for schooling is another $30 a week on top of that. I’m lucky I didn’t have a late fee for my sons daycare expenses since I was short $20 and payed it last second. I’m always $200 a month behind bills in general, and if I work extra hours then my son looses social security and I lose state help, which puts me in an even worse situation. The guidelines for poverty are so outdated! I have to keep myself low income just to survive because my income is just barely on the standard line of income, but just enough to cripple us if I don’t!

Bills scare the shit out of me now. I get an anxiety attack just looking at my bank statement. Shit, I’m supposed to move Nov. 30th, and I can’t come up with a security deposit, just first months rent. What am I supposed to do? If I get an eviction notice, I can get help from the town with security deposit, but my credit score gets fucked, and I get sued for skipping one months rent just to save up for it, and then my chances of my doctorate get fucked and my interest goes up! That and they don’t want to give me my security deposit for the place I live now….

I hate it! I hate my life! I’m so ready to give up and I’m so sick of crying. I want something that resembles a life…. fun…. peace…. happiness… love that isn’t one sided…. This shouldn’t be too much to ask for.

The Dream of Arrests


I was driving down a road somewhere going 7 miles per hour over the speed limit…. mind you, you can legally go 5 over so I saw it as being 2 mph over the legal limit. Anyway, I see the blues flash and pull over to the right side of the lane. Two other cop cars are pulled over to the left directly across from me on the other side of the road. I huff and roll my eyes as I bend towards the passenger compartment to pull out my papers and my licence. He comes up to the car with his light flashing in my car (it was night time), and asks for licence and registration. I hand him both, and happen to notice there are two badges of two guys clipped to the right side of his uniform. Upon closer inspection, I recognized the one on the top. “Hey, that’s my brother! Why is his picture on a badge?” The cop looks up at me, bent over to make himself level to me, and gives a rather proudfull but uncomfortable smirk. “Oh, yeah? What’s his name?” “J**** S******”. He beams a smile at me and says “I’ll be right back.” I get very uncomfortable, and get out of the car. I follow him to one of the cop cars across the street where he’s typing up something on a laptop and analyzing papers. “Now wait a minute – whats this all about? Why do you have a picture of my brother? He’s done nothing wrong; he’s no criminal!” In my heart I feared he may be in trouble for theft or something, but the officer pulls out a ton of random pictures of my brother in party glasses and goof mardi gras wigs, making a fool out of himself for the sake of getting and giving a laugh…. the thought “eccentric as always” wistfully passes through my mind. The cop says “He’s been seen going around the fox run mall and a few other stores dressed like this. We think it’s highly suspicious.” Seriously? They’re going on a hunch? >.>’ If dressing like a goof-ball some new level of profiling? “Look, I know my brother is a little eccentric” I press, “but that alone doesn’t make him a criminal. He likes a good laugh and thinks it’s hilarious…. that’s all.” The cop gives a cocky chuckle and complements it with kind of a “uh-huh” response. He asks where my brother lives, and I tell him he’s living with me and give the address. He punches that into the computer, turns his head, and beams a full smile at me while handing me back my papers. “You’re free to go. Have a good night.” I’m left in shock and disbelief. He let me off without a ticket, and in exchange, I inadvertently helped him out in a case against my brother that I knew would amount to nothing. I get back in the car and drive off pissantly, spitting a verbal fire of hate towards the cops. I particularly remember calling them “pigs” once I was off and the stereo was playing. I call my brother when I am some distance away, and the dream fades out.

Beware the Fatties

For the first time ever I went on a 5k run. More than that, I ran at a hefty 240 pounds. The weight I lost 2 years ago slowly crept up on me, and now I’m fighting the same weight loss battle. More than that however, I had a break through moment running in that race.

I did 3.1 miles in 54 minutes, and I didn’t come in last. The reason? There was a mother with her 7 year old daughter with her behind me. The mother was thin, and I’m pretty sure if not for the daughter, I would have been last. In truth, I feel like I came in last place despite being technically second to last. It doesn’t matter though.

In truth, I am first and foremost PROUD of myself for running/walking in that race on the 1st. It was on my bucket list and I got it done, despite wishing it would end quicker. Second, I do want to participate in some sort of fitness/fun community, whether it be runners, bicyclers, hikers, or something else. I REALLY want fitness to be part of my lifestyle, and it was with that statement that I had my breakthrough.

I’ve ALWAYS wanted to do amazing fitness based activities like hike Mount Washington or go rock climbing, but I look at myself and think “I can’t. I’m too fat.” As far as rock climbing goes that’s probably realistic…. but a 5K or hiking? A 5K or any race of any kind was also in the “I can’t do it-too fat” list. My break through wasn’t my “I did it” moment, but my ability to realize how society conformed my identity as “a fat person”. I’ve recently been an avid believer in stating “I have fat” versus “I am fat”, whereas saying “I am fat” co-insides with my identity, but I didn’t know how it played on my identity… until just then. I allowed society to dictate what I can or cannot do as a fat person, thereby feeling even more helpless. More than once I’ve received hate letters from anti-fat people with images of Dr. Phil saying “You’re Fat. Don’t sugar coat the truth cause you’ll eat that too”, as well as anti-bbw images spreading hate for people with fat. Its amazing how discrimination for people with fat is rising, but in my moment of clarity when I realized all this negativity became a part of who I was, I finally said “no more”. My “I can’t do it” mentality was driven by how others dictated me based on my weight.

My goal or New Year Resolution is not to “loose weight”; I’ve been saying that for years and it got my very little, despite my best efforts. My goal this year is to enjoy life, and for me, that includes fitness based activities that I can have fun with. I wan’t to have fun and be who I am deep down inside. I love hiking, I’ve always wanted to rock climb, I want to run, I want to bicycle through the mountains and take pictures… I want to do a lot of these awesome fitness based activities, and all this time I allowed myself to be dragged down and say “I cant”. In truth, I can, and this time it’s about shedding a few internal layers of pain, and growing from the inside out, without the dictation of what others have to say.

Since the race, I’ve made time to hit the gym every day at 5am before work, and go to bed early for it. Because I have a car now and don’t walk everywhere, I realized how much my muscles have deteriorated because of it over the course of 2 months. I use to be able to do 40 minutes on the machines, and now I can do 20. For now, the objective is to increase my time by 5 minutes every week, so in the next few days, I’m gonna stick to 25 minutes, then 30 the week after, and so on till I hit an hour. I want to have fun and live life this year. I want to experience the joy that comes with it. I feel renewed in my objective and delighted with my direction. Naturally the weight will come off, but its not about the weight at it’s core, its about life and fun.

Sorry, but I just had to share…

Yep, that's me!
Yep, that’s me!