So I had another blog on blurty.com, but didn’t find that was something I enjoyed using. I wanted something with more options and more control. I see a lot of people are using WordPress so this may be my new home. 
So this is the new home of my new blog. Tried out blogger.com but didn’t care for it so much. I’ve also tried many others. It seems I’m searching for that right place to just be real, open and confront my demons, release my fears to overcome and be that of so much more. That I think is the heart of my blog searching. So far, by the set up anyway, I like the way this site looks. It’s easy, lots of nice layouts and edit options. So we’ll give it a shot. I would love to just settle on a blog so I’m able to have started and finnished at something or at some point.
I’ve got a ton of shit to do around the house. Haven’t been to work in 2 days after having been off for 2 days prior to the 1 full shift I worked in between the days. :S Going back tomorrow and having a “chat” with the supervisor in title of our team. The boss hasn’t really led on to any dissapointment. They know I’ve been insanely ill. But it also seems to now be dwelling in my head. I’ve lost so much interest in the thought of getting up everyday and walking out that front door into such a big world where I feel so out of place. It’s a struggle to keep a job for very long. I’m always making excuses as to why I’ve left. I’ve never really been fired or let go. Just the whole routene of either not showing up again or telling them I’ve quit. Most of my life since I was 16, I’ve been working in call centres and places in familiarity. It’s a dead end scene. But it has some of the things I enjoy. Such as using the computer, data entry, and all thats related in that sorta field. But I hate the repition of it, I hate the boredom of it and the nonsense that goes on in most related fields of employment. But where can I look for something else? Something thats consistent, something that I’ll enjoy, and something that I can one day live on my own with. That’s going to support me, and see my through my bills and living. It seems impossible to find. Although I make little to no attempt in really putting out the effort to look. I’m to imprisoned in myself to get out there and look or apply myself as I feel I’ll not succeed and it will be a waste and failure. Something I guess I should be used to but haven’t fully come to complete terms with. But Ahhh! I need something. I need to DO something or I’m going to sink. 2 years sobre of crystal meth and life seems to be complicating itself so much more. I sometimes long for that false direction meth gave in terms of searching myself and finding what I wanted. No, with my raw emotions and exposed reality I’ve felt I no longer have anything left to offer. To search, to whatever. I’ve given up trying to be something better. Trying to look for something else and really working towards that “real” thing in life you can somewhat rely on.
I’ve lucked out in terms of my living arrangements. It was possed to be that I move out October 1st on my own. I was slowly preparing, but not really focosing on what needed to be done so I’d be ready. Well, by the time I came round to having an available damage deposit (which was about a week or so ago!) there was nothing out there that was going to be good for me. I’m a complicated person. Once, I was able to raise myself, and do what needed to be done to make sure I was somewhat happy and getting what I needed. At the age of 10, I was moved away from all the family I knew. My mom wanted a “change” and so we up and moved it to a small town in BC. We had some family there – whom I’ve never met before, but only heard of through conversations. In BC, the family there were all born again Christian and very into their faith. They led my mom into the whole Christianity background and offered her the chance to “accept Jesus into her heart” which she did. I that same day followed as I didn’t want to be singled out or miss anything. So that meant church on sundays and learning to live a good “christian life” … ya right! My mom and I lived in a small cramped 2 bedrm apartment/bungalo. She worked 2 full time jobs so that she was able to bring home phone and pay to have the roof kept over our heads. It was a hard time, and I at a delicate age was mostly left to myself to have gone to school, come home, do homework (which i hardly ever did) , maintain most of the house work and further, making supper for myself to eat. I got into endless amounts of trouble and was “disruptive” in school. So 4 years it, my mom was sick and tired and missed her family and the support she had raising a child without a father. Back to Manitoba we went. At 13-14 we moved into a much better apartment. 2 bedroom, I felt independence and began to look for further trouble there. It came to the point where I was not trusted on my own as my many then “suicide” attempts which I guess now I see as more cries for attention… my grandparents took me in. That itself meant I was being even further away from my mom. She was never your typical mom. but I loved her none the less and wish she would stop for 2 seconds and see her daughter is still there. So that made me rebel a lot as a teen. I began high school still living with my grandparents, and seeing as naieve they were in this “day and age” … i thought i could get away with murder. Which I kind of did for quite the length of time. I began hanging around “ravers” and was soon invited to my first rave. I felt for the first time really wanted and accepted. These people were always happy and always looked on to another day. At the rave I discovered so many different ways of life. So many bad broken souls and others such lifting spirits. I was aware of the drugs being passed around, and given me easily persuaded and addictive personality, I took my first offer of xtc. After a couple times doing it, I didn’t like it. I thought I wouldn’t like drugs ever for that matter. Wrong. The next drug my friend introduced to me was crystal meth. I fell in love instantly with its overdriving will to just be. To expose yourself in ways you never could. I was open with people, having fun, “happy.”… I started more and more into it, spending maybe 10-20 / wk. As the years went by and my mother still had very little to do with me, busy working or was with a “new bf” … I found myself in this drug. I felt the comfort and acceptance in it. The “love” I never knew existed. It got so bad at my grandparents with me up for 2 weeks at a time, spending my part time earnings of $300-400 on meth and not going to school. They kicked me out. More neglect in my perspective. So I moved in with my friend Gaby, her father and her two younger siblings. Worse move ever! I got worse. Conning people into giving me money, always late on the $150 rent I owed her dad for letting me stay there. It came to the point I’d go hide in her closet (our room was shared) when her brother and sister were there so I could go do some lines and be high for another couple of days. So needless to say it didn’t turn out. I manipulated Gaby into coming with me to move into this house where it’s residents were aimed towards helping people get clean and right in their life. So on to the next living arrangement. I liked it seeing as I didn’t have to work or pay rent. I could just “chill” and relax in my daily life as I struggled to keep my head on my shoulders with pain stretching across every aspect of my being. I started school again. Then things got bad with Gaby as lies came tumbling fourth and my manipulation of our friendship was in full exposure.So like everyone else… she left. I was alone. I didn’t really know these people as I was living in a dream world where nothing else mattered or existed other then keeping those who’ve let me in their lives, in tow. That was how I knew how to keep people in my life I guess. So before this entry turns into a novel … things didn’t work out at the house. I quickly saw old friends again and snuck out of the house and was no longer aloud back in. For months after that I spent my time sleeping at my friends house and his gf. I slept on their couch in their 1 bedrm flat in a high rise. I loved it there. However, both my friends were DJ’s and always up partying, drinking, and doing blow. I wasn’t into the drinking and had since never been drunk. As for blow, it was never my thing. Got you high for an hour or so before you crash and want to end it all. The meth at least lasted awhile before the next line was needed. I called my mom. She was living with a new boyfriend she met at work. She didnt’ want me to come bvack in living with her but I had no choice. So in all of this, the main root of it all is that I’ve never fully been on my own. Moving out on my own is going to be one of the biggest challanges I of 24 years of age need to face. Sad isn’t it? I know it. So now I’m still with my mom and her now husband and my step father. They’ve been married now for about 4 years I think. I lived with them still when I decided to kick the nasty bitch in the face and get off the meth. That was 2 years ago. And today, my mom was looking to rent a 1 bedrm in the complex we are in now and for me to have originally moved out somewhere on my own. The person who lives in teh 1bedrm they were up on taking got denied. So… they’re moving into a 2 bedrm and has asked if I’d wanted to stay another couple of months or at least until after winter. So thats a good thing right? I hope so. I just gotta really get my act together and learn to smarten up. Grow up. I’m still stuck at being that 15 year old and discovering what I then thought was life. Now I’m tossed into a place where I haven’t been in almost 7-8 years and I’m left to adjust to the way life is really lived and enjoyed. It’s been an adventure, that I can tell ya! I kinda think I already did, but theres a million journeys I have blotted in my head and I hope this blog can allow me to let it all flow out. I’m held captive in my own mind, imprisoning such dark thoughts that leave me to feeling so alone, out of place and out of tocuh with reality. I still really don’t know who the hell I am. I’m 24! I should have my life put together and be doing something with purpose. At least thats what my mom has drilled into me from the get go. At 18 she drilled it into me I was supossed to have been this or that and have turned out to be this or that. So stupid.
Tis is life.
Well, the dishes won’t wash themselves, the laundry won’t was themselves nither will they fold themselves and I can’t wash my hair without ending my first outburst. Although nobody rarely reads these things, it’s a comfort I can just type away everything thats on the inside and not feel judged, ridaculed or…. out of place!
