Rantings of Lost One

I'm not proud of what I'm about to write and it hurts me to write it but I guess I need to get this out of me.

I've been thinking a lot about how I want my life to be and what I want it to be and who I want to be. Hell, I've been thinking about this my whole life but what I keep coming back to is I don't know if I could ever be the person I feel I truly am as long as my parents are alive. I don't want them dead or anything to happen to them. The mere thought of that scares me tremendously and even brings me close to tears because of how real a possibility it is at this point. But I keep thinking about who I am when I'm not bogged down with my depression and anxiety and I don't think my parents would like me very much.

My mom already doesn't like choices I make. She's hated some of my friends, though I realize now some of it is her racist, bigoted mind.She has never been supportive of my friends even if they were white. Then she would complain about them not being jewish, though she let up on that years ago. The reason she let up on the religious aspect was because I, more or less, denounced Judaism. I was a teenager and I had a horrible experience with Hebrew school and never felt connected to the religion. I didn't like how women were treated and I can go on about that but I think I'll leave that for another day. I turned to the pagan religions and eastern religions. I wasn't practicing them but I was studying them. I had always been drawn to things such as candles, crystals and incense. I had believed in magic and dreams. Things happened to me that seemed impossible so I went looking for answers. I know I hurt my parents, particularly my mom. I wouldn't get an inkling of how much until my brother's wedding several years later, once again a different story. Funny thing about that is I find as I get older I have embraced more of my jewish roots. I still haven't gone back to synagogue but I define myself as jewish with pagan influences. I believe in a higher power and everything and I also know that regardless of the religion of the man I one day marry, my kids will be educated in the religion, as well as my hubby's if he's not jewish. I think I needed to find my way back to my roots my way and with some extra goodies but that doesn't matter to my mom. I could become orthodox and she would find fault in it.

My mom hated my school performance. I got a little screwed with the education system. I ended up with some horrible teachers. That doesn't excuse my very large role in the damage I caused but a little bit was on the public school system. The rest on my being ill and also trying to rebel without resorting to drugs and sex. She wouldn't even acknowledge something was wrong with me until I more or less flunked out of college. Even after that not much changed, she just backed off but let me see the disapproval with her silence.

I could go on for hours about my mom. She's done a number on me. I realize some of her behavior comes from her growing up poor so she measures success in monetary gains as well as she's a teacher so education is vital. She grew up in a confusing religious environment but was always drawn to Judaism so it must have killed her that I turned away. ***Side note - because of my complaints about women's roles in the religion my mom started to educate herself more on that and has since taken a positive stand regarding the women of the Torah. It was one of the few good things that came out of this.*** I also suspect my mom has an anxiety disorder and is prone to bouts of depression so she blames herself for my failures. But the truth of the matter is she resents me for things I said as a child and have since tried to make up for. She doesn't like that I am not particular about sexual orientation, race, religion, political affiliation, etc, when it comes to people I will talk to, become friends with or possibly date. She resents that my father put me first at a time I really needed him and did not back her in my relationship with B. She resents that my father and I can actually talk about things and it made us closer. We don't have a lot in common superficially. We like some of the same stuff but my dad and I like a lot more. I get that I have hurt her deeply. But she's hurt me and worse, I needed a mother.

I know I'm almost 30 and I'm still boohooing about how "mommy didn't love me enough" and blah, blah, blah. I'm trying to get past it but the biggest problems are I still live with my parents and it's an apartment and I still have an illness that is not under control. I've tried to adjust how I deal with my mom but it's so hard. I can't talk to her because the second there is any difference of opinion she clams up. Nothing penetrates and it's like beating a brick wall with a steel one behind it. Nothing works so I try to live my life but her silence is deafening. She represses everything until it builds up and she explodes. Then she starts bringing up everything ever done wrong to her and it's a horrible cycle. She's a master manipulator and can twist anything around. If it's not her way then it is wrong. I don't know how to live with that and still be a happy adult. I've been trying and no luck. I've spent my life trying to please her but also please myself and it doesn't work. I wish I could sacrifice my integrity to make her happy but I can't, won't and don't even think it would help. I think I could be doing everything she wanted and it still wouldn't be enough.

So who am I? I am someone who likes to be silly, playful, sexy but not slutty, artsy but not totally out there, smart. I like to have debates about ideas and events and all things ranging big or small. Don't care if we disagree, it's the debate that's fun. I'm competitive and driven. Honest and blunt, almost to a point it's harmful. Logical but also dreamy. I'm very emotional and sensitive. I have so much love in my heart that I have to lock it away or it might just explode out of me. I'm selfish but will go out of my way to help those I care about. I like having things but don't really need them. I'm very spiritual but not comfortable with the idea of only one religion has it right. I think all paths lead to the higher power. Politically I'm fairly in the middle with a few steps to the left. Strong supporter of women's rights and minority rights and feel "All we need is Love" and it'll help with world problems. Not fix them but definitely help. I think music is the key to everyone's heart and soul and when you find that piece that moves & affects you then you are connected to the universe and everyone & everything. I like to dance. I love to sing. It's the only thing that always brings me some kind of peace even if it's an angry song. I have a head for business and directing but it's all raw stuffs. Needs training. I'm determined and stubborn and messy. I like to express my feelings and not bottle them up though that's all I seem to do. I can enjoy children's toys not because I'm a child as my brother likes to say but because I get the simple joy one gets from them. It's sense memory as well as watching my nephew and feeling his joy of the toys. I can watch a sunset or a butterfly or even a worm and marvel at it. I love books and words and what they can spark within one's own imagination. I daydream and compose melodies in my head. I'm a good person with strong ethics and morals and values. Family is vital to me. So are friends.

Having said all that...why can't my mother love me for me? Why is it so hard for her to see me? I know I am bogged down with all my problems. I can't even start listing my faults. I'd be here all night. The reason I said what I did in the beginning of this blog is because I can't show all of these parts of myself because of how I feel I am constantly being judged. It's not all in my head. It might be exaggerated by it but I am not delusional. I wish I was. I hate it. I hate it because I want my parents around for a long time and I want to be close to them but I also would like to be me. I am so tired of acting all the time. I admit there is a part of me scared to perform because I fear what my parents will say if they see me in a different kind of role. I haven't even talked about my dad but he is guilty of this too. Quick story - I got my makeup professionally done for my prom. My dad looked at me and told me he didn't know if he liked it because I looked different. A friend of mine from college saw pictures of what I looked like in high school and then the prom pictures and said the prom pictures looked more like how I looked today. My dad has problems seeing me too. I'm so tired of feeling and being judged. I just want to live my life as my life and not what others think it should be. I refuse to keep going on like this. I'm too old. I know I need to grow up. It's just really hard with some of these circumstances.

I've been wondering if I should even write about what I'm thinking. I don't profess to be particularly smart. I certainly don't know everything and I feel I might be out of my depth writing about this. But this has been on my mind and I am tired of it coming to haunt me at random times.

    I've been thinking a lot about bigotry. If any of my previous posts have been read then, gentle readers, you know that I was in an interracial relationship for almost two years. Not that it matters much but I am white and he was black. For anyone who might get offended, I'm only using white and black because I might refer to skin tone a bit and I'm nervous enough. If I have to keep writing African American and Caucasian I might just stop.

    Anyway, I met B when I was working retail. The very first time I saw him he made me stop and go "Whoa." I don't know what it was but he was a hottie and there was something about him that got my attention. He told me he had a girlfriend and I gave up any thoughts of him. A few months later he was single. Things progressed. About a month into our "courtship" I knew I needed to talk to my parents. I spoke to my dad first and he told me that he wasn't thrilled but if B made me happy he would support me. He also told me not to inform my mom until I was sure this was something serious. Shortly after that conversation I knew it was serious. I had to prepare for telling my mom.

    Anyone who knows my mom, I mean really knows her, knows she can be a very difficult woman to talk to. She does not like to hear anything that is in conflict with her version of things. She and I have been at odds with one another most of my life. It's not that we don't love each other, it's that we are very much alike but also very different and constantly butting heads. I've lived my life trying to make her happy while being truthful to myself with very little success. I knew she would not be happy with me. I knew that and because of that knowledge I didn't know how to tell her. I would've loved to sit down with her and tell her how I met this great guy who treats me well, is funny and kind and smart and talented. But I knew it would cause a feeling of pulling the rug out from under her when I got to the main point. So, in a gesture that was extremely blunt and to the point and almost definitely mishandled, when we were alone in the apartment, I told her I needed to tell her something and blurted out,"I'm dating a black guy." That was the start of a very stressful, heartbreaking, sorrowful next couple of years.

    My mom tried to forbid me to see him. She tried to play the guilt card and tell me how grandma (her mom) would be so disappointed in me. She told me how it was ok to be coworkers and acquaintances with people of different races but not to date them. She told my dad that she was ok with my brother marrying outside of our religion and not once did this ever happen to her before but she couldn't get the image of me having sex with B out of her head. She wondered how much did I hate myself and how low was my self esteem that I felt I needed to go "black?"I swear I was living in a really bad family drama on the former WB or CW network. It was that bad. She wouldn't talk to me. I found out she stopped talking to her friends because what would they think if they knew? She went from being a sometimes insomniac to being a full fledged insomniac. I know she cried herself to sleep. She also lost a bunch of weight. Though in hindsight, while not the best way to go about it, it was healthy for her. She more or less disowned me. I was hospitalized with meningitis and she told my dad that she would not come to the hospital if B was there. I'm sick and she cares more about seeing my boyfriend than taking care of her daughter.

    It went on like this for over a year. We went through ups and downs regarding how we treated each other. We got to a point where she was polite and would even address me if I hadn't been over B's home for awhile. When I slept over she wouldn't talk to me for days. This all came to a crescendo the weekend of my birthday. B had been working crazy hours and never got the weekend off. The weekend of my birthday he did. I had just quit my job and wanted to celebrate. We made plans to go away for 5 days. Then I found out Passover was that week and my mom was preparing a seder. There was no way I could not go. We had been getting along and I was terrified of ruining it. I told my dad and asked him what to do. He told me to tell her but I just didn't want to ruin this for her. I took the cowardly way out. We had the seder and it was very nice. The next morning I woke up before she did and left her a note. I said I didn't want to ruin last night but I had made plans and I wouldn't be around for the next few days. ***Please note what I am about to write is what my mother said. I will not be repeating it after I write this.*** I was driving with B when my mom got the note and called me. I knew it was her. She left a message. She said, "Why won't you pick up? Too afraid of what I might say? Big surprise. I hope you have fun with your n****r. Because that's what he is, a n****r. Thanks for ruining Passover." There was a little more but that's more or less what she said. The n-word lines are the actual quotes.

    I swear this was the most disgusting voicemail I have ever received. I was shocked. I didn't know what to think. At the same time I wasn't surprised. She had not called B that before but I knew it was on her lips. I had been waiting for this. I went on with my weekend but it was tainted. I had planned on going home early that Sunday, which was also my birthday. After getting that message I never wanted to go home again. I eventually did and when I got home I was sat down and told we needed to talk. My mom tried to kick me out. She thought B would come in steal stuff. She thought about having the locks changed and only giving my one of the keys so I could never get in without someone being home. Hell, she thought I would steal stuff or cause destruction or various other things. This was the hardest conversation of my life. It is also one of my proudest moments because I countered everything she was saying without resorting to screaming or cursing. I called her a bigot several times but I never went for the jugular like she was trying to do. My dad even said to me later that his heart was breaking listening to all this and he was torn between the two of us but he had never been prouder of me. The gist of this horrible conversation was I get to stay but B was never to set foot in my home. I was never to try and arrange a "surprise" meeting. She was never EVER to meet him.

I also want to add in conversations prior to this one my mom had told me I can be with a Hispanic man as long as he wasn't dark. I was betraying my heritage and if I were to ever get pregnant she would only be involved if it was to take me to an abortion clinic. This is what I got to deal with.

    Terms were agreed to. I honestly think she tried to kick me out as a way to make sure she would never meet him. I don't think she really planned on my leaving. I wish I had been able to. This tore away at the family. My poor dad had to put up with so much. Of everything that happened what I hate the most is how in the middle my dad was. It was so unfair. He had actually met B and liked him. Same with my brother and sister in law. No problems with him. None of my cousins cared. My aunt was concerned and my uncle was a little more with my mom but he was willing to accept it if I was happy. My mom accused me of tearing the family apart but it was really her and her unwillingness to budge. Hell, she told one family friend who she thought would side with her and she didn't. She didn't care and in fact, was very supportive of me when I saw her and introduced her to B. I was honestly in hell.

    The relationship eventually ended. Part of it was my mother. Part of it was our immaturity. I wanted to grow up. B wanted to implode. We had no money, lived with our parents, couldn't move, couldn't breathe. As much as I loved him, I know now this was the right thing to do. At the time, I was a wreck. I was shattered. B had given me a promise ring. I loved that ring. I gave it back to him when we broke up and I missed it. I felt naked without it around my neck. I gave him back almost everything he gave me. I couldn't stop crying. I started writing again because the pain was so big and I knew from previous experiences I needed to get it out of me or things would get really bad. My mom did one of the nicest things for me that she has ever done. She said nothing to me. She left me completely alone. I wanted my mother so badly and I couldn't go to her and she did the only thing she could that was good and never said a word about it. Now we don't ever talk about it. It's like it never happened. She's been a lot nicer to me in many ways. In others she hasn't changed a bit. Life goes on.

    Now for the twist. This is not your typical "white girl meets black guy, they fall in love and the families disapprove" kind of story. B's family really liked me. His dad even said to me that "B was his son and I could be his daughter." His dad intimidated me but he was still really nice to me. No, the real twist is my mom is Puerto Rican. My father is Eastern European. When they got together my dad's family treated my mom and her family like shit. Comments were made about skin color, they were treated like trash, my mom was forbade from going into my father's parents' house.  The list goes on. It was horrible. As soon as my brother and I knew about this we stopped going over there. My father's parents were terrible people. We tried to have relations with them but they treated my father like dirt and my mom worse than dirt. My mom suffered the same kind of disgusting bigotry she put me through. She refused to acknowledge this when it was brought to her attention repeatedly.

    I guess this brings me to my original thinkings. I apologize for all the exposition but I need you to understand where I'm coming from. Plus I've never told the story in this much detail before. I needed to get this out. I don't know if I am going to be able to convey what I'm thinking but I am going to try.

    My mom brought to my attention something. Silent racism. I know it's been around forever but I never saw it as clearly as I did with my mom. I grew up in a predominantly asian area. My oldest friend is Chinese. I went to school with every ethnicity you can find. This has never been a problem. Racism is stupid and wrong. But looking more closely I notice how growing up my mom and even my dad would sometimes make bigoted comments. My mom hated how I was friends with more Asians and African Americans than Caucasians when I was little. Truth was I just got along better with them. The white girls I knew, I was friends with them but they were bitches. They were super cliquey and and I always felt like an outsider. It doesn't help that I really was a little bit different because I lived in a different neighborhood than everyone else and my dad taught at my school. I never discriminated. That's all it was.

    I look back and I see the changes that started to happen around middle school. In elementary school no one cared but in middle school divides started happening. Cliques formed based on gender and race as well as neighborhoods or interests but the big difference was with race. That's when I noticed Asians with Asians, whites with whites, blacks with blacks and so forth. How did this happen? What happened to just hanging out with people who had similar interests? I'm not saying these cliques didn't but they were also now more exclusive. I hated this. I won't even go into the nightmare that was high school. But this is where it starts.

    This is what I've noticed. Many people, myself included, make stupid comments, believe stereotypes or just ignore the other races. It didn't used to be this way but I recently discovered that I am much more likely to cross the street if the person walking towards me is not white. I would, however, like to point out that  I am a very nervous, anxious and suspicious  person who usually crosses the street if anyone is walking towards me. I just don't like it.  But the fact remains that I do something that is unfair to everyone. I'm a little bit bigoted. I don't like knowing this about myself but at least now I can do something to change it.

    This is what I'm trying to get at. I truly believe we are all a little bit racist or bigoted. We might not know it or mean to be but it's very hard not to be when we are inundated with images and stories that perpetuate the stereotypes. I do not understand why it was ruled the white old men know what's best for everyone. I do not understand why there are not more African American and Hispanic leaders and CEOs in our country. I don't understand any of it. Religion, race, gender.....why does it matter? We should all be respectful of each other because we are human beings. I believe everyone has a right to exists. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying criminals, thieves, murderers and whatnot should be allowed to run rampant but I am saying that the country suffers from a silent disease. Why are there so many people trying so hard to keep people who are different from them down? Poverty stricken areas should be getting more aid and money. There should be people working day in and day out trying to fix those areas. I know there are many people who try but it's not enough. They need help. Why hasn't New Orleans been rebuilt? Why do so many people still live in trailers out there? Explain to me why more money isn't being fed into our educational systems? Why is healthcare such a bitch to get? Why can't homosexuals marry? Why can't two people who love each other and wish to spend their lives together not get married or be granted the same kinds of rights other married people get? I just don't get it.

    Sometimes all it takes is small steps from everyone. I worked as a door to door saleswoman for about a month. I was awful at it and hated it. I remember one story I was told. One of the women told us that when we were going to different businesses to make sure we hit them all. Don't not go into one based on how the person looks because she had an experience where there was a Middle Eastern owner and he looked very stern and mean and she didn't think he would even talked to her. She skipped him and did the rest of her territory and decided at the last minute to go and try him. He turned out to be a very nice man, they talked for awhile and then she made a sale. Of course she could've just made the story up to get us motivated but that's not the point. The point is we are all judged by appearances and we shouldn't be. No one knows what kind of person you're dealing with until you talk to them. So why do we do this? Are we just walking around oblivious to our actions? If that's the case then we need to wake the fuck up. We've let too much go by being oblivious. It's time to take some kind of step towards true equality and true acceptance of everyone. Even if it's just saying hello to someone you normally see but for some reason avoid. One step. It makes a difference even if you can't see it. It makes a difference.

    This is not all I want to say but I think I've gone on long enough. I've been trying to compose this for some time but I was too afraid to try. I lost a lot of really good material by ignoring my thoughts. I'll probably write more about this at some point. As I learn more I'll share more. If I've offended anyone, I'm sorry. This is just my opinion. If you want to comment feel free but please don't flame. I'm open to debate but not ridicule or name calling or anything that's not constructive. If you've read this far, thank you. It took a lot for me to write this and I appreciate it. Good night

   

i have one other story i feel i need to share. i have had lousy luck with men. there have been two very defining relationships, one sort of defining, and a bunch of small oddities. i've actually had better luck with the booty call than the real thing. i've also had a couple of non-dangerous stalkers. these are the guys who stalked me online or on the phone until i had to block them and they went away.

a couple of weeks ago i got a message on my myspace page. i only use it sporadically. i have one friend who only uses it so i talk to her through it. anyway, i got this message and it said "hi, it's dave. long time no talk. how are you?" i checked out his page and saw we went to the same high school, same year and everything. i couldn't make out his pic but i figured i'd give it shot and responded. it turned out he was the first of my non-dangerous stalkers. he's the one who set precedent. it's been over a decade since i spoke to him and my friend who does talk to him occasionally swore he was different. i thought i'd see what he had to say. have i mentioned being lonely? we start corresponding and i have to admit, it creeped me out. i had told him i might terminate our talking at any time if i felt uncomfortable. this went on for about a week and a half. he kept bombarding me with questions and wanted me to call him and made horrible jokes about what happened between us. it was all very surreal. i decided to put an end to this.

so here's the weirdness. it wasn't even that this guy, who i haven't spoken to since junior high, was talking to me, no, it was the fact that about a day or two before i wrote the email telling this guy i can't talk to him anymore my recent ex finally decided after a year to go back on AIM. my heart dropped and i got a little obsessive for a bit but i'm better now. then top it off, the day i wrote the goodbye email, just as i'm finishing up, my last ex, the other big one, decides again to talk to me. so for one day i had my first stalker and my two big ex's online at the same time. it was quite eerie.

i admit i feel a little bad about the stalker. he hasn't tried to talk to me since, even though i did try to give him an opportunity to tone everything down and try to be normal. he chose staying away. i think it's for the best. my recent ex has not tried to contact me, which i am grateful for and i have deleted him from my buddy list. the other ex i'm not sure what to do with. he keeps popping up. it was a bad crazy relationship. both of us were incredibly messed up. he ended up going down a more destructive path but seems to be on a good road to recovery. me, i'm stuck but we all know that. this guy hurt me really badly. but a funny thing happened earlier this year. for the first time ever, i honestly was wondering how he was and hoping he was doing ok. i don't wish pain and suffering on most people. or i try not to wish it on any but this guy i had wished pain. we dated almost 9 years ago but our relationship went on for several years in some twisted capacity. i'm still damaged by what he put me through but i think i'm at a more forgiving place now. it's pretty much the only reason why i'm going to try and see what he wants and if it's too much or too weird than i have the strength to tell him goodbye (again) but maybe i can make a friend out of this. i don't think i could ever hang out with him but a penpal isn't horrible. who knows?

anyway, that's my odd boy story. even when i am literally doing nothing and nowhere near anybody, drama comes and finds me.

so i had a job interview last week. it was a customer service position. it's something i am definitely qualified for. they told me they wanted to move fast on this and i would know by the end of the week. well, it's now a week later so i'm going to assume i did not get the job. i'm rather pissed about. it might have been simply because i said i had to give my current job 2 weeks notice but it could also have been my getting kinda nervous during the interview. i know my anxiety kicked in and the funny thing is i'm really good with customers i don't have to interact with on a daily basis but when i interview i go to pieces. i am so angry about this. for all i know i could get a call in a few days or something offering me the job but i doubt it. i really wanted this one. i hate how much my anxiety gets in the way of my life. i feel like a broken record but it's the same crap all over again. i get a little better and then something gets in the way of my moving forward. whether it's my hurting my heel and not being able to exercise or it's my writing a decent cover letter, landing the interview and then blowing it due to nerves or anything else in between. it's this never ending cycle and i am SICK OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i am at my wits end. i want to go home but i can't make a move without a job. i want a job but every stinking time i try to write my letter of interest i mess up or it's weak or something else.....blah, blah, blah. it's the same damn story over and over again and i want a change. i want this cycle broken. i am so tired of feeling this hopeless and lost and confused and i do NOT want to spend the rest of my life sponging off of my relatives and not being able to live. i want a life. i want friends. i want love. i want to be happy. i do NOT want to feel this awful and disgusting and hate myself as much as i do. i got up and moved today. it was only for about 20 minutes but it was something. i really want to lose the weight. my skin has been getting worse and even though i just got new glasses, my right eye is not working as well as it should be. i'm going to have to get an eye patch to strengthen the eye. i know there are people out there with lives much worse than mine. at times i wish i had a better disease. one that was more obvious and demanded treatment instead of this insidious disease that lurks about and just eats away at me until i am left almost a shell of myself. i said in a previous post i wanted to talk about things on my mind not related to this but guess what? fear gets in the way. how can i talk about the issues closest to my heart when i can't bring myself to go and learn about them due to some inane fear? i can't. i want to perform. i do. it's in my blood. except a therapist once told me that the reason i have no energy or ability to perform was because i'm doing it all the time. she's not wrong. i am a great actress. most people are surprised to hear how screwed up i really am. i seem more self composed than i really am. side note - i think i might be leaning more towards music because i can think of nothing that would make me happier than to be on a stage singing and yet, i am too scared to go to classes. i am too scared to apply to jobs that might give me a chance to earn money so i can afford classes. i'm too scared to do anything and i have to deal with this without any kinds of support. i feel like i'm going mad or i'm going to explode and i can't do either. i look at my nephew and i want so badly to be someone he can be proud of. right now he just loves me but eventually he'll see me as more than his aunt and i want him to see a person who is doing something with her life. i want to see me as someone doing something with her life. i don't want to hurt myself anymore. i don't want to be so scared anymore. i know some fear is natural but not like this. i should not be afraid of going outside. i should not be afraid to place a phone call. i should not be afraid to open my mouth and say what's on my mind. i don't know what to do anymore. i'm so tired of being so alone. i'm so tired.

A few weeks ago I made some friends at a bar that I had been at. Two of them were visiting from San Francisco and the other one lived somewhere in Queens. They were walking me back to the World Trade Center so I could catch my train. Along the way I noticed that the guy from Queens had held back from the rest of us. He starred at the wreckage of the World Trade Center and for no apparent reason stripped off his shirt and started crying like I had never seen a man cry. One of the guys from San Francisco told me that his uncle had died in the bombings and this was the first time he had been back to the site. His grief, so potent, made me realize that what he had done was exactly what I had been doing for the past six years.

See, when September 11th had happened I was a senior in college. I was also an RA and I took my job really seriously. I had been woken up by a rude call from my then boyfriend to turn on the news. I watched in horror as I saw the plane crash into the World Trade Center. Realizing that some of my residents could have relatives in the New York area, I went downstairs to see if there was anything I could do to help. What I witnessed from that point on was more than I had ever thought possible. A night before I had been almost a mother or at least a sister to my residents. I saw them through their break ups, was a shoulder for them to cry on, and persuaded them to forgive each other when the worst happened. But that morning I suddenly felt like I had become the enemy. Reports had already surfaced that Al-Qaeda were responsible for the attacks. Members of the Al-Qaeda were brown in skin tone, as was I. (I still am.) And for the first time in my life I was privy to discouraging words and sentences, such as "I guess only white people can use the airports now." and "I guess it's time for the US to stop letting immigrants into the country." I was so fueled with fury and sadness by these words that I sought the only refuge I knew of on campus, our multicultural center. I received counseling from the administrators over there and I learned how to keep silent among all the verbal abuse that slowly dissipated after a few weeks. But the memory of hearing those words from my classmates and my resident’s mouths stayed with me throughout the rest of the semester. I felt unsafe in my home for the first time.

I decided it was time for me to find a new home. It was only March and the seniors in my class had not yet begun to question their future except in mental unformed imaging of what they would like to be. I, too, was probably on that same track had it not been for September 11th. I suddenly didn't care what I became...all that mattered was I became it outside of the US. I got a job in Salzburg, Austria as a Resident Counselor and left the country to which I had been born.

Five years went by and I continued to jump from country to country; from Austria I moved to Slovakia, from Slovakia I moved to Italy, from Italy I moved to England, and from England I moved to India. All in the attempt to run away from what Americans had become; I almost felt September 11th had given due reason for Americans to become racist, as if they needed an excuse. Finally my parents couldn't stand me jumping around anymore and told me that the time had come for me move back. I moved back to the US, pretty much kicking and screaming. Acquired a job in New York and moved to the center of what had been my dilemma for the past five years.

And now I'm here. On September 11th for the first time since the event occurred. My office is right next to where the World Trade Center had once stood. As I walked towards office this morning, I heard the names of the victims being read out over the loud speaker. Names like "Carrie Cartwright" and "Juan Fernandez" were all jumbled together. Not all of the names had Anglo-Saxon origins. In fact, quite a few of them had Hispanic themes and even sub-continental and Middle Eastern flavors to them. Upon hearing those names a vivid vision imploded in my head of a fire consuming a large group of many colored people. Men and women of various ethnic backgrounds had died that day...and here I was lamenting the words that had been spoken to me out of anger and pain.

Anger is a universal theme among human beings, expressed in various ways, the majority of them detrimental to the furthering of civilization. Yet, I've never believe in Anger as being a cardinal emotion. I've always thought of anger as a band-aid; only covering up the actual emotion of pain and sadness, underneath. As is with most things in the Universe, sadness has an opposite, happiness. People have analyzed September 11th from so many viewpoints that it has almost lost its meaning. Always focusing on what could stop a future incident, I feel, may keep us struggling and as they say "fighting fire with fire". But if the universe has opposites, then wouldn't fighting fire be better served with water? So wouldn't sadness be better combated with happiness?

These words, though, most will be perceived as naive and silly, ring true to me. But in my head I see what I did by running away from other people’s anger as no worse than those that said those words to me. I wasn't brave enough to face the anger, to realize it was pain, and be able to show others how to substitute that anger for happiness. Each person that died on September 11th was a human being, filled with every human emotion possible. Sadness...and happiness. Happiness has it allies in kindness and forgiving. And even the worst human being in that building that died that day, had at some point showed kindness to someone else.

By watching the guy from Queens’ strip off his shirt and weep, by seeing myself run and come back, by hearing the names of those that died I see that the only thing I can do is ally with the opposite of anger...or happiness. By showing kindness on this day of all days, I will be better serving those that died in the flames. And by forgiving those that said those hurtful words to me I know that those that died in the building didn't die in vain. My journey has leaded me to my conclusions and I only hope that everyone else’s journey leads them to a place of happiness. For we struggle with the everyday living...but we live for each other.

i don't know what say. i hate where i am right now. i feel so out of sorts. the past month has been stupid. i took my job so i could get out of the house and explore and educate myself and take care of myself. instead i've had to drive to new york 3 times. two of which were pointless and a complete waste of my time. so instead i get to be sleep deprived, vitamin and food deprived and so damn angry at how ridiculous this whole situation is. to make things worse i get the balls to apply to a job i really want but because i was having a panic attack while writing the damn cover letter i know i botched it up. i want to call and try to get an interview but i'm having a panic attack as i speak just thinking about it. oh, and to make me feel even better, my ex is online for the first time since we last spoke almost a year ago. i have been doing okay with this but i hadn't realized he was still on my buddy list and seeing his name there cause my heart to just drop in my stomach. i feel like shit right now. and i'm gaining weight again. i have this free ymca membership but i hate how i look so it makes me hesitant to even go. how messed up am i? quite. i have all this stuff burning and swirling around in my and i don't know how to get it out and i want to but i suck at letting it out. i really suck at it. i feel like i slid so far backwards and i don't know where i'm going to find the strength to pull myself up. the only thing i can say i've done right lately is move around my credit debt to i only have to pay off two major cards that have less interest or no interest. that's the big thing. i know it's a good but i really had hoped i'd be back home and working out my mess of a life instead of sitting here wondering when i'm going to get to move and not live in a basement infested with goddamn crickets which oddly enough keep dying but they die without me spraying them and find their way into my room or my bathroom. they seem to really love my bathroom right now. if this was happening during the day it wouldn't be as bad. it would really suck but not be quite as bad. instead i get to deal with this when i'm trying to go right before i go to sleep and my anxiety is getting ready to peak. i think i've mentioned before that the later is gets the more my anxiety goes wonky. i hate this. i hate feeling so out of control and not knowing how to reel it back in. i've been trying to work on it but with all the craziness of the traveling my system is freaking out. i know that's one of the reasons i'm stalling on calling for an interview. i'm terrified she'd say the only time she can see me is this week. i doubt it but i'd really like to get my system a little stable. i think i'm going to try and do some kind of exercise today. my heel is, i think, about 75-85% better. it only hurts sometimes now. very little is making me happy. my nephew makes me happy but that's about it. i'm not even finding a lot of enjoyment out of television these days and i love tv. i'm so scared right now because i don't want to revert to old habits. i don't know what to do. i can put on a brave front but i don't know if i can do this on my own anymore. the more i confront everything or try to get better the farther away it seems. i don't want it to go back to the way it was.

i just need to rant for a sec. i have been job hunting in new york. i want to move back. i am looking for part time monday - thursday. i want to work about 30 hours a week. that way i'll be working but not working for little i can't save any money but with a some extra free time so i can work on getting better. about 2 weeks ago i drove up for an interview with target as i stated in a previous post. having learned from that debacle when macys contacted me i knew what kinds of questions i should ask before coming up. i asked if i could get work with my availability. i asked if it was even a realistic idea. i grilled the person about whether they were looking for seasonal or permanent. she told me i could get my availability. they have a particular position that would work for me. i would be able to get permanent work and i should definitely come up for an interview. so i go up and what happens? that same DAMN thing!!!! i get told weekends are mandatory. i was told everything the woman told me was false. i was also told that starting salary was bare minimum. i had been told by someone who worked at macys that i could get a livable wage. EVERYTHING i was told was a freaking lie!!! needless to say i'm angry. very angry.
to make my week complete, i could have picked up an extra day of work if i hadn't been in new york and when i returned to virginia i decided to take a short nap before going back out to food shop and i slept for maybe 30 minutes and i guess the power blipped but the next thing i know the dog is on the steps and peed all over them!!!! i'm very stressed out and angry and i feel my anxiety level spiking a bit. i wouldn't be so angry about the dog if it was nighttime  or there was a storm or if she scratched at my door but she did nothing and it's bright and sunny out. so i'm gonna go on record and say i'm angry and honestly i feel like tapping into my angry latina new yorker and going nuts for a few minutes. i won't but it would sure be nice if i could. maybe i'll go and get my free trial membership at the y instead. bah

in addition to talking about things when they are on my mind i am also trying to do things that terrify me. they can be big things or small things. it might seems silly to people out there who may one day read this but unless they've dealt with crippling anxiety i don't care if it seems silly. today i did two things that were very hard for me to do. the first is i placed a call with my boss and asked if i could switch the days she had given me off. there is something going on next week that i would really love to do with the kid and while i'd prefer to be working, if i am going to be given a day off i'd rather it be next week. i'm waiting to hear about that.

the other thing and most important thing is i discovered a job ad on a website for a place i had once worked at. i left under weird terms. it was a temp job and the person i had been working under....well, she was similar to me and i hadn't realized it at the time so i was always second guessing myself and she pushed me to get angry with how she treated me regardless of how i had been working with her on and off for almost 2 years. she had been very vital to shaping my work persona and it was not all good. when i left i had been ready to leave. i never thought i would go back there and i have been slowly losing contact with people there even though they were really great. anyway, i asked around about the job and was encouraged to apply as well as call the administrative coordinator. i was freaking out about calling her. i knew her but i also knew she had no clue who i was. i was going to stall on calling but i didn't. i had to yell at myself to do something that scared me but i did it. i was right. she had no idea who i was. she just said send a resume. but i don't care. i have to get to a kinko's tomorrow because today i have to write my cover letter but i'll apply. i'm torn on whether or not i really want the job. on one hand it would be full time as opposed to the part time i really want but it would be with people i know and a job i can do and i'd have benefits and a steady paycheck. and truth be told, it doesn't matter to me right now if i get it or not. i'd like but what's more important is i did something that really scared me. i know i sounded like a spaz talking to her but i still did it.

i hate that my anxiety and my depression are such that i have to celebrate things that millions of people do every day without a problem but this is the lot i've been dealt so i'll celebrate every little victory that comes my way. yay me

i've been doing a lot of thinking lately. i realize in order for me to have the kind of life i truly want i am going to have to do things that i am not comfortable with. this is not just the exercising and learning to overcome my depression and anxiety. this is also about becoming responsible and learning about what's happening in the world as well as voicing my opinions about it. it's about having opinions and speaking out because if i say nothing and just get angry about it then i'm not helping. i'm not contributing and nothing gets accomplished. i'm not saying i alone have the power to fix the world. i'm saying everyone should be doing this. we should be talking and contributing in a constructive way. no name calling or bashing other people's points of view. i really feel we as a whole should be talking and finding ways to solve problems even if it's just within our own lives. so in an effort to put my money where my mouth is i am going to try and start talking about things that are on my mind that i don't normally talk about with anyone. i compose reasonably well thought out editorials in my mind but i never put them down. i want to change that. having said that i am willing to discuss any of what i write with anyone as long as it is not nasty. you can disagree with me as much as you want but if you are nasty then forget it. i would also like to add the reason i am not excluding this from public pages is because i want to discuss this stuff with people. i think it's important.

since i am new to this and it is difficult for me to put down these kind of thoughts i might get things wrong. i might not truly say what it is i'm trying to say. if that happens please let me know. just don't be a jerk about it. tell me how i'm wrong. show me. i'm still learning and growing and i am receptive to others. just don't think you can automatically change my opinion if you disagree. but let's start a dialog.

wish me luck people. i'm terrified.

it's been a bit since i wrote. i have something i want to talk about but i still need to compose my thoughts on it so instead i'll mention what's happening with the job.

i got screwed. royally. it turns out the museum hired 4 other people as well as me. not a problem. however we were all talking last week and the woman who was acting manager for the day told me that she found it ridiculous that i wasn't given a full 20 hours as well as one of the other employees. she then went on to exclaim disbelief when i told her about what happened with the money. she proceeded to tell me how cheap the museum is and started telling me about other places i might be able to find work. that didn't leave a good taste in my mouth. on the plus side monday i was pretty much running the store because everyone else was either in meetings or on vacation. that was fun.

so i've been looking. i applied to target in new york because the kiosk said they were looking for daytime cashiers. i drive up yet again to take the interview. fyi the woman who called me to ask me to interview was very rude. i couldn't come in on tuesday and they refuse to give phone interviews. i tried to explain to her that i was between states and trying to move back and she started telling me about how she can't hire me. i had given a start date of about 3 weeks from now. that way i could have time to move back. she was telling me to fill out another app when i move back permanently. i had to outright tell her i can't move back without a job. at that point she said to come in wednesday morning. i had to stop her from hanging up before i found out where i was going. she didn't even give me her name and i was driving back down and forgot. so i drive up. i go in today. i have to wait about 30 minutes before i go in. when i  do the interviewer looks at my app and asks about my availability. since i am on a mission to get my life back together and balanced i put down m-th 8-7. i won't work weekends because i really do need to take care of myself plus i really really want to visit my nephew. i tell her this and she tells me they have nothing for me at this time. they wanted someone with open availability. pissed doesn't even describe how i was feeling. i asked her why'd they even bother calling me in. she was hoping i would change my availability. i told her what happened when i was called. i didn't have the name but i did tell her this is something that should be addressed with anyone who does the calls. i just feel like this was a wasted trip. i'm going to be applying to wherever i can online because i need to keep my low paying job. i hate this so much. the sooner this can be done the sooner i can come home. i really hate this.