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? 

A Letter To Myself

            I wrote myself a letter because I felt that no one really understands me except myself. I try to communicate, but the only person who actually listens is myslef. I have waited for help from others but it hasn’t arrived, I guess, the only person I can expect help from is, myself. 



Dear Pedro, 

            I can see what you are going through. I can almost feel it. You left social media. Deleted Facebook. Never post on Snapchat and have grown distant with your friends. They must not understand, but I do. I see how every morning it’s hard for you to get up. To face another day with problems. It seems like you can’t get a break. Don’t give up. 

            I understand you have no money. You can barely afford to keep the fridge stocked up for your family. How do people expect you to go out? And have fun? When you could use that money to pay bills and buy food. Survive. No one sees that, but I do. Don’t give up. 

          When I ask if everything is ok, you always say yes. But I know that’s not true. I ask again, surprised you look at me and tell me the truth. No one has asked you twice. No one asks for the truth. They only want to hear “ok” and “fine” to get on with their lives. But I care. I want to know. I can’t fix it, but I can lend my support. If you don’t want to talk we can just sit in silence. I know how sometimes you want to be alone, but not feel alone. Don’t give up. 

            I can see how sometimes you can’t even cry because you see no use in that, you just want it all to stop. But wait, think about your family. Your mother and brother. You have to stay and look after them. Who else will? Don’t give up. 

            I know that your mom has cancer. I’m sorry. Life has treated you very unfairly. Your going to lose your job due to a work permit that has yet to arrive. I know, life is hard. Don’t give up. 

            With all the problems you have, I won’t ask you to come and have fun. I know you can’t. I know that when you go out all you think about is your problems. The how’s? And the why’s? Don’t give up. 

            You can’t focus on anything else. So then I’ll ask you what you want to do. What will help? I’ll give you a warm hug just so you know I feel your pain. I’ll tell you it will get better. That it will be ok. You will respond in a negative way. Saying how it’s not, and I don’t understand. But I do, so I’ll say, “even if it doesn’t, I’ll be there by your side.” That will put a smile on your pale face, no one has ever said that to you before. Don’t give up. 

            I know each day gets harder. I know each hour drags on by. I know every minute is excruciating. I know every second air seems to get thinner and it’s difficult to breathe. Don’t give up. 

            I know how many times you have thought about it. Don’t do it. I know it seems like the only way out. Don’t do it. I know the reasons why you would want to. Don’t do it. Don’t give up. 

Even though you want to do it really bad, and sometimes you are on the edge, hanging on for dear life, and you might think that there is no turning back, I plead and beg you, just don’t give up

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.

Why?

Dear Journal, 

          I am, in yet, another conundrum. But as I lay here in bed writing this, I wonder, is it of my own doing? Or am I one of those people that has such a big heart that can only find blame in ones self and not others? Would a person with a big heart say that? 

          Why do I say this? Well, one of my friends sent me a Snapchat the other day. I ignored it because I just couldn’t face to open up a conversation after we hadn’t spoken in months. And also, or should I say mainly? I was some what mad. Maybe a little irritated that this person would try to start a conversation after this long, by means of a social media. Why not text and say hey, I miss you how you been? Or possibly I was wondering how your doing. A freaking call would have been nice! But no, there was no call, no text, just a simple picture that erased after four seconds never to see the light of day again. So, of course, I did not respond. 

           Today she sent a video. You you think it was heart warming? Maybe some words of motivation? No. I noticed that at the same time I got the snap she and her husband were out and about with they’re dog and she put it on her “story”. Must have been a video about that. I did not open it and I have yet to. I don’t want to. Right now I’m in a shitty place in my life that I can barley bare day by day. And you have the audacity to send me cute snaps and videos of you having the time of your life? Excuse me but, what the fuck? That’s not what you do to a friend. Oh your sad? Oh, life isn’t treating you well? That’s to bad, but look at my cute dog playing in the sand on the beach by the hotel we booked for the weekend because we just had extra money around and we didn’t know what else to do with it. Ok maybe that’s an extreme exaggeration, but that’s what I feel. Unfortunately that’s how my brain is wired to think. 

          Then on the whole other side of the coin I blame myself fully. I don’t diserve friends like that. I know that they care. They are the best, they are good.  I stood them up because I didn’t have enough money to buy chips and didn’t have the balls to tell them. (Then again, anxiety). Every time they reached out I pushed hem away. (Then again, they didn’t actually try). 

          We all may have a little to do in all this but deep down I just have so many things to yell at them. I just need to get it all out of my system. To ask them questions. Beg them for explanations. 

          Why didn’t you notice I was falling apart? Why didn’t you see how much I was struggling? Didn’t you see how my smiles turned into frowns? Why didn’t you notice how unhappy I was feeling? Why didn’t you sympathize when I said things weren’t going so good? Why didn’t you ask if everything was actually ok when I said it was? Why did you wave evey forced smile when you knew there was more behind it? Why didn’t you care? Why didn’t you try harder? Why did you stop trying? 

Why?


4/25/2017

Acting “Normal”

Dear Journal,

     I feel like no one cares. It’s not that they don’t care it’s that they don’t know. Part of me thinks, if they don’t know how can they care. But then again I can’t scream out to the world for them to know. 

     I have been meaning to tell one of my cowrkers. She has gone trough the same thing with her mom. I feel like if anyone can understand what I feel it would be her. But then again, I don’t want to cause her any angst. I don’t want to worry her. She may have some advice, but I can never find the right time to tell her. And it’s not something you can just bring up in abnormal convo like, “hey, my mom had breast cancer.” 

      I reminded my boss about tomorrow and he said it was fine. He said he was “sorry” again. But when he said it he didn’t look at me but at his work. I don’t ask for much from him I know. But maybe he could look me in the eyes when he wants to show his simphathy. Maybe that’s just his way? 

     There are people I wouldn’t like to find out. Some piel just like the way you suffer. Or the little fact that they are doing better than you. I’m not sure. What ever it may be this is turning out to be harder than I original had in mind. 

     Anyway, back to my lunch. Back to acting normal