Pointless 

            This week has been full of emotions. I wish I could say good ones but life has taught me other wise. And with my feet not letting me run just makes me more depressed. 

             Monday wasn’t too bad. I don’t remember anything out of the ordinary happening that day. All except Jose, Human Resources substitute, told me that they need my I-9 form (employment eligibility). I haven’t received anything from immigration. I called them Wednesday, asking what’s going on. I guess they are backed up. I also couldn’t get an extension. So basically tomorrow my permit expires. I won’t be illegal though since my application is submitted, I just can’t work. 

Which is just as horrible. No work no money. And with my mom having cancer and all it’s just all so stressful. 

            I gave my receipts that I got from immigration to Jose as proof that I wasn’t lying that I did everything and now am just waiting for the card in the mail. So he said he would run that through the HR manager and see if I could still work. He never called me back. So I don’t really know if I should show up on Monday. It would be embarrassing to just go and then be asked to leave. 

            The drive home from work yesterday was very emotional. I couldn’t hold in my tears. Thinking of how we were going to go on in life. How unfair life is. Cancer, no job, no money, then what the fuck am I suppose to do? Once I got home I cleared my tears and walked in the door like nothing had happened. Told my mom that I really didn’t know what was going on, if they would let me work or not. 

             Later in the evening our landlord and his wife came over and talked about our situation. He said we wouldn’t have to pay next months rent. That helps a lot. 

            Still, no call from Jose. I’m starting to think he just doesn’t know how to tell me that I can’t go back. I understand though. 

             I hate life. I really do. I wish I could be more positive and look on the bright side or beyond some things but it’s so fucking hard. I look both ways and all I see is pain. Why? It’s getting really tiring. Even talking about it, writing about it, doesn’t even help. It’s pointless. Everything is pointless. 

            Elizabeth group messaged Jennifer and I on Snapchat. Something about best friends day. Jennifer suggested we go to her house and hang out. Seeing as I haven’t seen her in  four months I couldn’t. I really wish they knew what was going on, and even if they didn’t at least pretend that they care. I miss them. 

            Now I have no clue what we will do to survive. How will we pay bills? How will we buy food? How will I take my mom for her surgery, and chemo treatments? How will we pay rent? How will we ever get by? 

Just Might Let Go

           I am so stressed. I fear for my future. It’s hard to say what will become of me in the next weeks. I feel like i am going crazy. Multiple times I have found myself zoned out just, thinking.

           Questions flood my mind, like, how will we eat? How will we pay our bills? How will we pay the rent? Will we even have a place to live? How will we move on? Can we? Can I?

           I can now confirm that my back pain is do to stress. Every time I find myself thinking about things my back turns out to feel worse. I can’t think straight at work . I have been making more and more mistakes as the days go by. I have been known for not making any, now I don’t know how to explain them all. I just can’t focus. Sleep is getting harder to do. I can’t fall asleep easy and when I wake up I lie in bed paralyzed by what I have to get up to. Every day is darker than the past.

           I don’t know what else to do to get my mind off all my problems. Reading and watching TV does not help. Listening to music only clouds my thoughts but doesn’t fix them. Expressing my feelings and talking to someone wont help, all they will tell me is to ‘hang in there and wait ’till it gets better.’ But its funny, because I know it wont. It can’t. They don’t know me. They are not in my situation. How can they possibly say that it will get better? How can they possibly know?

They don’t.

           I don’t think I have ever been so close to the end of my rope. Or, maybe I have, but this time I feel that I just might let go.

I just wish everything would just stop.

The Big C

Journal,

     I don’t know what to feel or how. I know exactly how I should feel, sad. Maybe a little devastated. I should be on the floor hysterically crying asking “why?” Instead I feel a hole. Dark and cold. My brain scans all the possible answers to the why. I feel regret. I feel anger towards the time I have wasted. The precious moments I wasted doing things that were so worthless and now see that those moments I could have been there. I could have had more time. 

     I did cry. I can not put up a front and say I didn’t, that would make me heartless. I cried in private. To myself. I have to be strong.

“We have to be strong, we are going to be strong.” 

      My mom said when I came home. I knew she was getting check ups after check ups at the doctors. It never hit me until today. Yes, I always knew the possibility. But never assumed it to be true. Never imagined that the story would actually be played out this way. 

     We said we would be strong. But we know we are only humans. There is only so much we can take. 

      I ask myself why her? She is my everything. She has been a father, mother, friend, my conscience, and much more to me. She has such a big heart. She has done no harm to me. She hasn’t hurt anyone, made no enemies. She’s the reason I am what I am. Every kind and loving part my soul I have learned from her. She has taught me so much about caring and being a good person. 

     I’m not scared of death. I have never been. Death is death. Perhaps it’s because I have never seen it up close. I could die tomorrow and I wouldn’t blink twice. But her? I can’t picture that. What would my days be waking up with out seeing her face? How would I feel to come home and not have our afternoon talks ? What would I be when I can’t call her to ask her something? When I need her opinion? What will I turn into once I relized she’s not there to hold me when I’m hurt? To comfort me when I’m doubting? Who will guide me through this tough life? How will I be able to go on? What will be the purpose of life then? Of trying to stay alive? What will I live for? 

     Why am I making myself the victim ? Maybe I’m overreacting. Fuck you, if you think that’s the case. She’s my mother and if she’s gone nothing can replace her. Nothing can replace the way her voice sounds. Nothing will replace the way she knows how to make me feel better. Nothing will replace her love. 

     She can’t leave us yet. She won’t. We will get through this, I promise. 

3/15/2015

My Little Red Friend

We have problem Journal,

      We’ll two if you want to be technical. Cold sores. I have had this problem since I was in the first grade so don’t go making any funny or dirty jokes (or both). A cold sore is a bunch of (motherfucking) blisters bunched up together (to ruin your life just by sitting) on your lip that are more than noticeable. It tingles on your lips but you know if you scratch even the slightest that (bitch of a) blister will only grow.
a1ffee6b850f776005c320dd3b3c19d5
      It had to come at the worst of times. No, I’m not meeting anyone new and no, I’m not doing anything special. But then again, who sits around thinking, “oh hey, I haven’t had a cold sore in a while, I think its about time.”

      I put medication on it to try to heal it as fast as I can. I had to go to work regardless. Even though it was pretty noticeable no one said anything! Honestly, that was really surprising. Some of my coworkers are extremely outspoken and have an opinion about every single little thing, yet no one said anything about the volcanic eruptions going on in the corner of my mouth.
fcf157401d4d4a40e6ba37824be7f1ec895537f6979100aac62b433da746f850
      I’m pretty sure everyone noticed, and maybe it was uncomfortable that they say something? That’s possible. (even though they aren’t really that nice, if at all). Maybe when it heals they’ll ask what happened to my little red friend. How embarrassing.

      Anyway, before I finish Journal, I wanted to also inform you something about my “friends”. I posted something on social media (like I do). Later that night they spammed the group messages with memes and pics about missing each other and what not. One of them sent a pic of her new cat. I asked if it was hers, and she replied with yes, obviously. She got it a month ago. I new but i was acting.

      After I stopped replying so did they. I hate how I have to keep them connected. Why do I have to be the center of our friendship? I cant right now, I’m not strong enough. They don’t even have the balls to demand to know what the fuck is going on in my life but yet they want to send funny pics and laugh. Well fuck them, right? Maybe I’m to harsh but that’s how I feel and I cant change my feelings because that’s what they are, feelings.
3/8/2017

If You Didn’t Ask It’s Because You Didn’t Want To Know

I’m pissed off Journal,

      Well, not as much as I was a couple of hours ago. I posted a story on Snapchat yesterday (that was rather depressing) I hadn’t posted anything in over two months. My two “best friends” both saw it and messaged me. One (Jen) said, “you’re not in this alone.”  The other (Eli) said, “we’ve been texting you but glad to see you’re ok.” To both of them I replied “I know” which led to Jen not responding and Eli messaging back, sorry for bugging you I’ll leave you alone. 

      Now, I’m not in a good place but it’s not that bad. But what if it was? What if I was on the verge of leaving this life and they acted this way? All bitter and sassy? I can’t think that, that would only contribute to me taking one of the worst decisions in life, death. Like everyone else I have my good days as well as my bad days, but the difference is sometimes my bad days are really bad.

      Lets try some common sense. If you have a friend that you know is going through some shit, per say. Like money or health problems or even both (because life’s a bitch). Lets say they have social anxiety and have a hard time expressing their emotions. They always smile because they don’t want to bring attention to themselves and their problems. They don’t want to bring anyone down. Everything seems fine but they seem very distant. What would you do?

      I don’t know if it’s just me, but I would try to help that person. Listen to them. At first yes they’d say that everything is fine. They would possibly ignore me. But that doesn’t mean I would stop trying. I hate it when people ask me “how are you?” and once I say that everything is fine the conversation goes on but we both know that it’s not. I’m not sure if its pride or timidness but I wont come out and say that I’m hurting, or not ok. My brain thinks if you didn’t ask it’s because you didn’t want to know.

      Maybe its a wrong way to think. Maybe I have the fault in all this. Maybe I’m the one who should be apologizing. But my brain isn’t wired like that. All I think is, why haven’t my friends tried harder? Why haven’t they called me until I answered? If they don’t see me posting on social media why don’t they ask whats going on? Haven’t we known each other long enough to be worried for each other? All I get is empty words and no actions. Is our friendship over?

      While they’re out going to museums, movies, and concerts, I’m home sitting wondering how they have the courage to be within so many people. I wish I was more social. Social like them. I remember when I would run my mouth to people. I wouldn’t shut up. But that was only a part of my life, it has come and gone. It was like a small role in the movie that is my life that I played so well but that scene has ended. I have always been shy, timid, quite, antisocial. I keep to myself. I’m scared of human contact, may that be physical, emotional, or even mental. I live in a shell.

      Why don’t they understand that I’m not the type of person that when a problem arises, I wont run towards them for support. I hide and think. Think and think. Overthink. The only way I will open up is if I’m asked. And there’s nothing I can do to help that. And I hate it. Because then they think that I don’t want to tell them anything. They start to think that I don’t need their help or support. That’s possibly how they feel right now. But I have no clue how to make amends. I just wish they tried harder. Because I can’t anymore.
1fcb965d2957a07a623586f9310dc51d20651369_hq


2/27/2017