When your family doesn’t want to see you

I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster that has mainly had stomach churning dips that are never ending. There’s been a move, my husband’s surgery, my husband still jobless two years later, and my brother getting engaged. I feel like I can’t fully exhale because something else is just looming to punch me in my stomach for good measure if I try to catch my breath.

There has been a plan to visit my family that got dashed because it was my idea when to see them because I could get cheap plane tickets. Now, I’m staying in the city so that I can explore it for the first time ever while they can either decide to see me, or not see me. Yesterday both my mother and my father told me to cancel my hotel, plane tickets, because what was the point of my trip? It’s a lot of money to waste on sightseeing and that they didn’t want me to come.

My emotions that were well tied up for awhile broke at the seams. I was angry, hurt, sad, and told them that my original plan was to see them and this was my last chance to do it. With my husband being out of a job for so long and his 401K officially used up my plan is to pick up every weekend to make the most money I can. This is my last chance to travel until a time I just can’t see right now. But, since they didn’t plan for me to come and this was my idea I have had them attack my plan time and time again. 

My mind teeter-totters on the edge of just doing what they say, yet my stubbornness fights against it. I have this weekend and two days off for this trip and I won’t get put on the schedule at the last second. And I want this trip for myself. I need it as a break from the relentless working and stressing loop I keep falling deeper down. But, unfortunately, I end up doubting myself as my family tries to get me to disengage from this vacation. It’s a negative feedback loop that keeps getting fed every time I talk to them.

I think I need this for my own sanity to travel and enjoy a city I love and coincidentally came from.

Countdown to our Separation

I’m not as excited about this month as I could be, but I guess I can at least be happy he and I our still together, even if he’s gone every week. Every time he’s gone for his one job I try to deal with it as best as I can. I then think about how at the end of this month we won’t be together. He will move away, and I’ll still be working at my job moved back in with my parents.

And, for someone who was apprehensive about moving in because of the prospect of paying him rent I don’t even care that I’m saving money moving back in with my folks.  I just want to be with him and I’ve come to love us living together and to depend on him to be there. Sometimes I ask myself how can I make these months before our wedding where we are separated before I move down.

The answer is … I don’t know how I’m going to make it. I’ve asked myself many times if this is the right decision. If I could modify my plan and just move with him at the end of February. I’ve thought it over and over again, replaying it in my head, and I’m absolutely torn.

I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to depend on someone as much as I do with the fiancée. I’m a one woman show, and it took me a long time to work through my trust issues to finally give myself completely over to him. To depend on him to be there for me when I needed it, and to let him take care of me when I’m exhausted and tired. I like to go into hermit crab mode when something is bothering me or when I’m hurt because I don’t like anyone to see it. I’ve learned it from my family, but have slowly re-learned to let the man do things for me if I need his help or even just let him put me to bed when I’m exhausted.

I don’t like the clock counting down and I wish I could stop it so I didn’t have to face being separated from him.

It’s hard to find but great to keep

I felt like the biggest idiot ever today. Why? Because I forgot about our meeting that we had for our massage department and the manager told me that she missed me at the meeting. And, I totally forgot that it was today, early in the morning, and just came in today like there was no meeting. I absolutely hate disappointing people and it goes for double that when it comes to my professional life.

I did share with that same manager, who is the owner of the place, what has been going on lately.

You know, with my mom having skin cancer and I started to tear up and kept the tears in my eyeballs. My voice broke though as I was telling her and I told her that I’d let her know as we found out more but I might have to take off a Monday if we can’t schedule it on a Thursday.

Which she said, Sarah, of course you can have the time off to be with your mom in the surgery if it falls on your work day. Which kind of helped me to feel better that I don’t have to stress whether they may or may not be able to give me the time off to be with her. My father is the dope, and ditto for my brother, I tend to know how to handle hospital situations and I’m a very good patient caretaker. Plus, my brother is so much farther than us, and has a new job, so it’d be difficult for him.

It’s just good to have my manager understand what I’m being put through (some of it, not the whole moving and everything, that’s a new level of stress, a different one I won’t be talking about) and that she will let me have the time off if I need it.

Hormones are a dangerous thing

Hormones make you want to crawl into a hole...

I have the cutest, sweetest, client who comes to see me and she used to see me more often but their financial fund kind of dried up. She’s just one of those people who you meet and you’re kind of like “You can’t be for real… I never knew someone like you could exist!” Just as sweet as marshmallow fluff,  and so we’ve gotten to know a little about each other over time. She’s one of those few clients I discuss a little of my life with her, and she does the same with me. The last time I was really concerned about her because she came in my room and started crying, and it truly did kind of break my heart.

When she told me why, it really broke and then tore my heart still beating onto the ground.

She and her husband are trying to have a baby. But, unfortunately, it’s not as easy as it is sounds. She has the same thing that I have: Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I was diagnosed with it just when I was a teenager, I’ve been on birth control pills ever since. It’s where there are a ring of cysts encircling the ovaries. When they found out about it I had a cyst the size of my ovary, or bigger, that I continued to have for 2 years. Being put on birth control pills was rough, I went through different brands that made me physically sick and the patch which made me want to scratch my skin off and like it was burning my skin at the same time. I’ve gone off birth control (of course, before dating anyone) with no success. I can’t be regulated without it, I’ve tried and failed.

My client tried to get pregnant the natural way, but had to resort to hormone injections. And, they were just making it too much for her to handle that day. It makes you feel pregnant with all of the side effects and just really is like, what I would think, being dosed with steroids.

I want her to get pregnant so badly. I know she wants it so terribly, and I find it so heartbreaking. She’s only a client of mine, but since the last time I saw her I was worrying about her. She was so funny when she came in, she said she was craving Mexican food and Mexican music. She told me she thought maybe, possibly, she might just be pregnant. And I want her to be. I wish I could make it happen because you can see it in her face, and even feel it in her body she has been working so hard to make this work. My client would be such a wonderful mother since she is so sweet, and I could see her spoiling her little boy/girl like crazy.

My client even asked me, since she was really thinking maybe, possibly, she might be pregnant if the massage might hurt it. If I was early in my career I would scared to do it, because I don’t want to do anything to mess it up. But, massage can be done in any period of the pregnancy, and I’ve had tons of experience doing it from the first, second, and third trimester. We talked about her family this time, and her husband’s family, who she loves, is going to drive up from god knows where to get bring her craving for Mexican food home to her.

It’s such a fine line to tread… I want to ask her if she is pregnant the next time I see her, but I will be so heartbroken again if it’s not true. I’m going to let her take the initiative, she knows I’m so rooting for her. If she comes back and says she’s pregnant, I don’t care if I’m in a Spa, I am going to leap for joy, make a ruckus, and I’m hugging her. It would definitely make my day to find that out! I feel like she’s meant to be a mother, and she’d make a wonderful one.

‘Skinny’ is a dirty word?

This or That? I'll take That.

I want it. The girls at work want it, my managers wants it, my clients want to have it. Acquire it, become it, transform themselves into it. They eat kosher hotdogs with no bun, self-made salads at home, don’t even eat a lunch but a little bit of crackers and hummus and that’s good. They talk about how stressed they are, then say on the plus side that since they are stressed in may make them lose a few pounds. So, of course, this is a definite plus. I look at them, and they are beautiful. Certain body parts they have I envy, or like my friend I met with on Sunday, she is like gorgeous. But, totally denies it.

I do too. I want that. I’ve wanted that since I went from a tiny little girl, tall, leggy, skinny, and I hit puberty and became… this. Which means I got curves, ballooned out, was the first to get a chest in my class, and went from around 100 pounds, or less, to 190 or so. But, luckily, I got the height to cover it and the extra stuff gets placed in places I don’t mind (like the chest, my butt) but I still have places I do mind, which is say, my thighs. 

I’ve always been told to lose weight. I’ve always been told since I changed from that tall little lanky girl to what I am now what a transformation it was. My mother was a big pusher for it, my father, my brother, everyone. I felt I wasn’t right, if I just lost those pounds maybe I’d acquire perfection. Maybe I’d come across the guy of my dreams then, he’d take a look at me, see how skinny I was and how I shed what I was, and just say, “Wow.”

But, it didn’t happen like that. He had lost a ton of weight, I hadn’t, he looked at me and said “Wow” because I’m guessing my personality just shined. I was feeling super sassy with a chocolate martini in my hand and the moment I looked at him I knew I wanted him. Yet, I also knew I didn’t want to date. So, I was mean to him, and he didn’t give up. Now, he’s having a struggle with the weight issue and wanting it off, and it being difficult. I don’t know how to help him with it, besides saying I love him, and I’m here for him. To tell you the truth I’m not even sure what to do about my obsession with weight that I try to quench.

It’s just never-ending that even when I lose weight, and I do good, and I’ve made a change in my life for the better to watch what I eat and be more aware… it’s not enough. I’ve lost about 15-20 pounds depending on the day and have kept it off for months and months. Sometimes I want to push myself past that. There was a moment in my life where I had lost 40-50 pounds, and was at the skinniest I had been since when I was that lanky little girl. Even with all that weight lost (mainly by not eating) I was still only a size 10-12.

Losing all that weight was because I was incredibly depressed, for many reasons: death, not being able to get anywhere in my life, an abusive boyfriend, which was the first one I ever had too, on top of so many other things. I didn’t have the will to eat. It was kind of rough, I was a shell of the person who I knew I was.

I love my girls at work, and they are beautiful. Some of them are just drop dead gorgeous, and totally skinny. But, even the skinny ones want to be even more skinny. They think they are fat. And I tell them, you are so pretty, and what are you saying you are fat/need to lose weight/aren’t right right now? And they kind of blow me off when I tell them they are just as pretty as can be.

Of course, in the same sense, like when I was told I was pretty yesterday after I had make-up put on me I basically told them to bug off. I even said that without make-up, no one says anything, never compliments me, nothing, but with it on? You guys all flock to me and think I’m just the cat’s meow. One gal even said I was ‘sassier’ with make-up on. I don’t even know how that happens, except probably I felt a little annoyed that I never get any attention when I’m ‘normal’ Sarah being told I’m pretty, only when I’m ‘made-up’ Sarah. Plus, I’m too lazy to put on make-up, I’m just too lazy, and it’s not me.

It’s an up-hill battle. I’ve even tried working out every day of the week for 2-3 hours at once and I lost like… 3-5 lbs. Ridiculous! But, once I changed how I eat, what I eat, and became a little more careful, and stopped exercising like a mad woman, I lost the 15 lbs. I just don’t understand how this works sometimes, and I’m like my girls at work. The grass is always greener on the size smaller pants.

When you’re exhausted and you just can’t hide it

Sarah, are you tired? Oh, no, of course not! I just got something in my eye...

I just love it when a manager calls me out on how tired I look. I think every time they do that it puts an extra 10 years on me. And, when the man calls me out on being so tired looking, it adds on another 20 years. So, luckily, both these times are rare because I hide how I’m feeling so well, except these rare occurrences.

And, whenever someone suggests that I should be giving out free chair massages I wish I could stomp on their toe. Or toes. Or whatever will give them the sort of pain chair massages give me because they are much more painful at 10-15 minutes of doing it than a regular table massage at 30, 60, 0r 90 minutes. I can use my body and oils to massage, doing a chair massage is just me squeezing my hands for all that time and hyper extending my wrist.

You dingbat, you. Damn people and their stupid ideas, how about they try and do some little chair massages and see how great they are feeling afterwards. Oh, what’s that? Not feeling great at all and your hands hurt? Exactly my point.

At least I’m somewhat busy tomorrow. Sometimes, it’s just better to keep me in my dark massage cave.

My better half makes my home complete

He’s finally coming home, tonight, which this week feels like it’s moved so slow since the moment he left. And, like I said, he is used to living alone and has been alone for a long time before he met me. I’ve always been with the folks or with people and it definitely is quite a different feeling when you are in an apartment and there is no one else in it with you. It doesn’t feel quite the same, it feels empty, but also not as complete. Home is where the heart is and my heart is with the man, and so it’s been quite a disconnected feeling having him gone.

I even got the apartment somewhat ‘prepped’ for him. I know that one of the things we do is to get our Starbucks water cups ready from the tap and he likes a lot of ice in his cup, me, not so much. My teeth tend to be sensitive and he likes everything cold, so I got his empty cup, filled it up with all ice, and then put some water in it. I set it inside of the room with the Queen bed so he’ll have it ready.

I also ended up writing a little note and putting it on his bed… telling him how much I missed him. Plus, the get well card I got for him and I to send to his Step-Dad since he just got out of the hospital and broke his ankle by falling off of a ladder. I swear, his Step-Dad does way too much handiwork around the house and should take it a lot more easy, but he wouldn’t listen to me, the man, or anyone else. He likes to do what makes him happy, and fixing things definitely is a big hobby of his.

LL (the caterpillar) is in his Chrysalis since the last time I saw him. When I left him he was hanging from a ‘J’ position and very still. I went over to the folks to do some laundry and to sleep over, which, of course, that place used to be my home before I moved in with the man. Now, I feel like a stranger in my old room and that twin bed keeps me up all night tossing and turning! On Wednesday I went in to my work to get a facial from one of my little estheticians and I’m also going to be taking her out this Sunday for post-date birthday celebration. I’m thinking I might get her some flowers on Sunday too because I found out she loves them and thought a cute little bouquet might be nice.

She’s one of the few gals who knows about my personal life, and was the first and only person to find out the day when I got engaged. I told her how much I was missing the man and she asked me if we were killing each other yet spending so much time together with me moved in. The thing is, that hasn’t been a problem and I ended up telling her that I couldn’t be happier to come home to him especially after a long, hard day at work. Even though I’m paying for ‘rent’, this now feels like our place and a relationship has to be two people working together. Not one person who takes, takes, and another who gives, gives, and who end up resenting each other in the end. There’s a give and a take, and you need to both work together as a team, even though my mother tells me that she made every man she was in a relationship with pay, and do, everything. She even had my father pay off all of her credit card bills before they got married. I know how that turned out in the end… not well at all.

I told the gal during the facial that I could have all the money in the world, and be miserable, and be alone, or, I could be with the best person I could ask for, be happy, have maybe less money, but find and hold onto the love of my life. She was kind of funny, she said to me, “What got into you? That doesn’t sound like you at all! Did something happen?” Me and her both have this thing about money, we like to keep it, we don’t like to spend it, she’s like my fellow money sister when it comes to how she handles it. But, I just told her it’s me just realizing how great it is to move in and be with the man. Plus, just trying to work through my issues with money, even though I’m not perfect.

And, having him to come home to and just getting a hug from the man, and cuddling up to him when we do watch TV is wonderful. And doing that consistently is even better, plus, just finally not being a gypsy may be a big help too.

A Hot Mess… in so many words

Okay, I’m miserable, a mess, a hot mess, for that matter. I feel unimportant, unwanted, unappreciated, and about every un-word you can find. It’s a serious funk, that not just spans to my time by myself in this apartment just waiting to hear the man’s voice again, but also to my work. I feel like I just don’t matter. And, there isn’t exactly a reason for this. It’s just… trying my darndest to cheer people up while I’m struggling just to get through this time until he comes back home and even when I express that I’m not feeling the hottest, it seems like people don’t care. Which is fine, just dandy, I don’t need someone to give me a lollipop to get me to feel better, but in the same sense it’s just a general feeling of giving so much but receiving so little. Being on the over-burner, I’d guess.

And I know what you’re thinking in regards to my work: You just got a raise, come on!! Yes, I know, obviously I must be well-liked, doing a good job, but now I’m pushing myself even harder to do better, especially in regards to retail, because now I have to push myself further then what I was at before. And, I kinda feel like people do the kick the dog syndrome at me where they take it out on me, are short with me, whatever, and if I’m ever not sunshine on a stick I seem to get a talking to. Which, mind you, can only be counted on one hand when that has happened but that’s enough for me.

Especially when someone seems to be throwing a tantrum about this, that, and that happened every 2 seconds…

I know it’s a good thing that I have at least 2 days as a break before I get murdered again on the weekend. Another good thing is my little guy that I’ve adopted to take care of and who has been keeping me occupied with feeding him and stuff. Meet LL (aka little league) the caterpillar:

Meet LL the real hungry caterpillar!

He’s the last caterpillar that seems to be healthy, very hungry, and that I got from over where my folks live. The man is so cute, he keeps on asking me updates on ‘Junior’ as he likes to call him and telling me to take pictures of him too. I’m glad he understands that his fiancée is crazy and has been into insects since before she could talk. Seriously, I used to grab ants and put them in my plastic clear purse to carry around, which of course killed them but I didn’t know what I was doing back then. I was afraid he’d not want me to have any ‘bugs’ in the house and banish any caterpillars that I have to outside, but luckily, he lets me keep them in their little butterfly cage and doesn’t seem to mind it. Actually, it’s given him ammunition to tease me and he calls me an OM (which stands for Overprotective Mother). Even if I do take care of the caterpillars well, there still was 3 that I took in who died so I’m hoping this last little guy will make it.

Anyways, I know that I matter, but right now, I just don’t feel it.

Home is where you are

Like the buildings in this photo, the feeling of moving can be a daunting task. Suspended out of reach, so large, unmovable, intimidating. I grabbed the last of my stuff today, bought a lot of groceries to fend for myself on my days off, and packed up my car. My mom was talking about what she would do to ‘my’ room… which is no longer mine. My stomach has been in a bit of knots and I’ve tried to remember everything, but to no avail.

I forgot about my healthy humus, crackers, bananas that I left at the folks place. I am officially ‘moved in’ with the man. Prepared to pay rent, fend for myself when it comes to food, and start to settle into the role of cohabitation and making this feel like home. But, I know that home is where the man is. He watched me as I rummaged through my stuff, ran back and forth, went in a room, went out, and went back in it with a dazed face. He laughed at me as I scuttled back and forth sometimes ending up in just standing there with a, “what do I do now?” look on my face. Trying to get as much as I can put away, but having too much to tackle in one night. Even though I will try.

He had me lay next to him and slow down for a second. The man hugged me close and said to me, “Welcome home.”

My rollie poly suitcase that I’ve been living out of can be retired. Instead of going back to my folks for some time, his for the weekend, back to my folks for Sunday through Thursday and repeating it over and over, I can start to grow some roots. This is a little different from my up-rooting tendencies so I’m sure this will take some time to get used to. It feels strange. Not bad, just that I don’t think it’s hitting me the transition yet since it’s the first night.

My closet is amazing.It’s like a thing of beauty! With all of my tons of clothes, and everything finally hung up I still have space for more. There are shoe racks, cabinets to put stuff in, and it’s definitely holding up to my stuff being stuffed into it. It looks like a bomb exploded with everything be here and there, out in the open, yet not quite put away. And it’s not even like I have an excuse, I’ve been slowing moving in and putting thing away for around a month or so. But, with the final voyage of moving there are crates stacked up and a mess looking at me.

The man has been telling everyone at his work all week that he is getting a roomie. Which is hilarious, and asking me if I’ve been telling people at my work. We couldn’t be more opposite when it comes to that. He will tell anyone and everything about what’s going on in his life, and people at my work don’t even find out that I’m engaged until 5-6 months afterwards. I tend to be an extremely private person, where no one knows what’s going on with me, and he doesn’t mind sharing stuff with his co-workers or whoever it may be. He’s definitely very trustworthy and I’m… not.

It’ll be strange to have my mom so far away. I know I complain about her, and we go at each other sometimes, but in the end I’ve gotten used to having her so close and it’s gonna be an adjustment.


You raise me up… so I can have more money (hopefully)!

So, the end result of the review, right? Well, first, the beginnings of it. A whole week of me feeling like crap and worrying about what to do about it, what they were going to bring up that I need to do, what I need to push myself further with, etc. I’m an overachiever when it comes to my job, my career, and what I do. I love my career and I’m always pushing myself harder, trying new things, without being asked. It’s cause’ this is what I do when I’m passionate about something, and every time, no matter if I’m hungry, or smelling food through the vents filtering into my room making me rabid hungry, I always try to give my full attention to the massage, what I’m doing, what their body is telling me.

You gotta listen to be able to hear what your client might need. Muscles tell you stuff, you just gotta have your mind a little clear to be able to pay attention to it and not be thinking about what you wanna do, gonna do, and all that stuff which is tempting to think about a lot of things when you just have spa music to listen to. And, of course, it’s tempting to think about things when you have a lot on my mind. Which, is always my problem since I over-analyze and over-think situations all the time.

My review was supposed to come after my lunch. But, I can’t quite eat before a review because I’m too anxious so I waited until afterwards. As we went through the different points, me reading the part, and answering it, I thought more and more this would be another time where I just don’t get a raise. The times I didn’t answer in the ‘always’ category it felt like I was really punished for it. So, next time, say I do it all the time, every time, no matter what, all that.

They asked the whole, “Where do you see yourself in 5 years?” Which, I find a silly question. I don’t even know if I’m going to be living here, or moving to wherever the man moves. I don’t know if we will stay in the apartment we love, or have to find a new one, in a new place, with a new job for me and losing my family. I don’t think I want kids, and have never felt the clock tick for kids. Though, I know the man wants them, the clock is turning backwards and I just wanna be selfish and not have to worry about kids. So, I did a long, “ummmm.” followed by an even longer one as I stalled and eventually said, “Buy a house?”

But, I will let you know the results of the review…

I did get a raise! So, that will definitely help me out. Especially since I’m moving in with the man this week, and he ended up getting a raise too. Which is a definite plus, and I’m looking forward to being in my place and not living out of a suitcase like I have been for a year.