There is so much I want to say. But there is a danger to cracking the airtight seal that keeps all of my words safe inside of me. I might unleash an ocean of emotion that drowns everyone who dares to listen.
a very sweet, kind lady bought my lunch today in New West.
The restaurant was very busy and I told her to go ahead of me in the take-out line because she was on her work break and I had the whole day off.
She then paid for my order and left before I had a chance to thank her.
Thank you, thank you!!
You're an incredible, generous person.
I'll be sure to pay it forward.
I used to want them, but I’ve had depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember. It’s difficult for me to take care of myself. I’ve realized this year that I may never be a fit parent, and have decided to let that dream go.
I know this very pretentious guy who himself plays very poor jazz/blues guitar who constantly puts down guitarists I admire like Stevie Ray Vaughn and Eric Clapton, both of whom he called “hacks”.
Yeah, I won’t be discussing music with this snob anytime soon.
I have addictions and mental health in my family...and because the family member chooses not to seek professional help (drug and alcohol counselling, mental health assessment), I need to re-explain every year to this family member why it's best to not visit, depending on the mental state they get it and sometimes don't. It's strange I sometimes share with people this and some not, and people don't get it; why I choose not to be subjected to yelling, mania and watching someone binge and drink and numb over the holidays. I honestly wish someone would invite me to their dinner, I think because I appear high functioning, and share my story like 'I'm handling it', they don't know that it would still be nice to be taken in and invited to a peaceful meal where no one is upset. Volunteering might be the best way to be with people and not be alone, but remember the holidays are not easy for everyone, if someone says 'I'm not sure what I'm doing for Christmas' and you know you've got a dinner planned and plenty of food, just invite them, even if they don't accept just say they are welcome anytime to stop by. And yeah, I could plan my own meal and invite people, but I don't know people who have a similar 'let's do our own Christmas away from crazy, dysfunctional families'.
... if I am being abused. I work in a Church, and they say it is volunteer work, but from what I can tell, they simply recruit vulnerable adults like myself and get us to work for free. If we start asking questions about unionization or labor law, they act like we are mentally ill because "God says we are to serve." But the priests are paid and all the staff are paid.
I have had friends tell me I am being abused and that I should at least be paid wages. I decided to look it up in the bible, and it says
"Do not oppress a hired hand who is poor and needy, whether he is a brother or a foreigner residing in one of your towns. 15You are to pay his wages each day before sunset, because he is poor and depends on them. Otherwise he may cry out to the LORD against you, and you will be guilty of sin. " (Deuteronomy 24:14-15)
But they also think Jesus "freed" them from the law, now all they have to do is "love, love, love."
I looked at the Employment Standards Act, and it does not say Churches are exempt. So, Confessions, I submit it to you humble jurors, am I being abused? Should I go to Employment Standards?
Seeing all these people camped out in the streets, I feel like I’m one bad decision or run of bad luck away from ending up there too. I used to be scared of monsters and axe murderers, now my largest fear is of what I see these unfortunate people suffering through everyday.
Just realized I asked someone to give me complete, unconditional devotion no matter what I did; to fulfill my needs for attention without getting anything in return (if I do, they might take me for granted); make me their sole focus and not even look at anyone else (but I can flirt anytime 'cause I'm allowed) ; to be less than me in everything so I can shine; and to do all these things without expecting anything in return (I don't like the pressure). They get no attention, compliments, kind gestures, visits, calls, or equal attention for things like holidays and birthdays, again because if they do they'll take me for granted so I need to keep them on their toes (I have to stay in control).
For the first time ever, I thought, "how would I feel if someone asked ME to do all this with zero return?". I got mad. "Why, whoever asked me to do this is completely selfish. They certainly do not deserve to get the kind of attention like that. Why, I'd have to be terrible to do this for anyone, and unrealistic to think that expecting this is fair or right." I know...I made the connection for the first time. Like a tiny voice inside said "oh...yeah" and I woke up.
I wrote that response down and have it on a post-it note at my phone at work, and also have a pop-up note on my cell every time I use it, both with this response in bold letters. These remind me every time I ever have rediculous, brutally unrealistic expectations on anyone I claim to love, and get filled with rage when I don't get whatever I want. You gotta put gas in that tank if you want your car to go anywhere. I don't know why I didn't get this before, it just occurred to me lately.
For longest time tried to deny feeling guilty masturbating but now I feel almost suicidal afterward. My catholic morality is working alive and well which is not a bad thing I guess. Its a good thing.
Yesterday my bus was rerouted, so I ended up being 30 minutes late for work. I was irritated, anxious, and tired. Some days my commitment to public transit feels like navigating a battlefield -- mostly inside my head -- the smells, the people, the uncertainty!
Halfway through my bus ride, a young boy with an Elmer Fudd hat boarded the bus, balancing all these tiny Christmas cupcakes. He sat down and pulled out his phone. The judgmental part of me was like -- this kid has a phone already!? But then I caught a glimpse of the background image on his phone -- a pet cat. That ended up being the best part of my day. I try to hold onto these moments when city life feels too complex and noisy to bear. I frequently forget that there's a kid with an Elmer Fudd hat, a beloved pet, and a tray of cupcakes in all of us. I try to imagine some version of that kid in everyone I see on the bus. It seems to help.