One More Day

I keep trying to decide where I want to go with this blog. Trying to see if I can use it but be "anonymous" so I can dig a little deeper. Sometimes I write things in my own personal journal that I am sure others would benefit from. Or at least benefit in the fact that, you are not alone.

I know we hear that over and over, but no matter how many people try and tell us these words, they are in the end, just words. Things will get worse before they get better. And then when they just get worse they tell us, it could be worse. You could be [insert situation here which seems worse than yours]. But in all honesty, they don't know.

They don't know how you are feeling at the moment. How broken inside you are and how the world is falling apart around you because, you may have just stubbed your toe on... and you could have been barefoot. No, this is not the whole reason you are crumpled on the floor in tears. And when you hit a knot in your tangled hair that you just can't get out? That's not the reason why you're sitting there thinking the world would be a better place without you.

They are just openings to break. Things build up through out the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months... Even years. And then, you drop a fork while you are trying to put dishes away...

Your life is over. You may as well end it right there because you are not good enough, you are worthless. You can't even put a fucking fork away correctly. Friends and family? What good are you...

Harsh, I know, but this is what it is all about. The tears, the screaming, the holes in your bathroom wall... Tearing out your hair because you dropped a fork.

Well I am here to tell you the truth. There are people out there that go through this every day, just like you... But in no way do they know and feel exactly how you feel... You are alone in your own mind.

Everyone handles things differently and what we have to do is reach out to these other people and learn from their coping skills. What do they do? What number do they count to? What mantra do they have? What ritual? And who do they call if anyone...

If you are like me, you won't call. No matter how many times people tell you to call. You won't. You don't want to be a bother and you know they have more important things to do other than offer you sympathy. Sympathy over what? That fork? How do you explain that to someone...

You can't.

You just have to hope you get through the night and put your car back in drive and make your way over the bridge you've been sitting at the bottom at for the last 15-20 minutes and try again tomorrow.

I'm here to tell you that it's just one more day to get through.

That's all you have.

One more day.

What Do We Work For?

It's those moments that you sit at work surfing the internet (against the rules) when you start wondering, how the FUCK did I get here? Is this really what I want to do? Or is this just another wave I have to take onto the shore of the island of happiness...

I love working with the animals. I love interacting with clients... But I never wanted this before. I wasn't that little girl running around with a fake stethoscope saying "I want to be a veterinarian and save the lives of animals!!!" I don't think I ever really had that moment of, "I want to be a..." Life just always went where it went. I was built and groomed to work as a kid. Mom was an entertainer (and before you think stripper... She was on a kid's TV show). My Dad was a hard working/mechanic/farm hand/roof fixing/welder/all-around guy. He did everything. Any time either of them were offered a job, no matter what it was, they took it. Well... If I didn't get either of their good looks, I sure got their work ethic.

Which is probably why I failed in school. I mean I made it out with maybe a 2.3 or 2.6 GPA and a B.A. in Psychology which means absolutely nothing. But I did graduate. That's what matters right? Why do I still feel like I haven't completed a single thing. Made an ounce of difference in my life or for anyone else? It's like I'm completely stuck in limbo all the time.

The one thing this job has taught me though is that work is not lifestyle. Or at least a healthy one. I wish I figured this out a long time ago... For once I really don't want to put work in front of anything else. I'm done dropping every opportunity to live to get a couple more hours on the paycheck. What's the point in working so hard that you can't enjoy exactly what you're working for. I want to enjoy my dog, and on top of it all... I want to enjoy my horse. That is why I work. I work to eat, I work to clothe myself, I work to put gas in my car... But it shouldn't be to put gas in my car to go to work. It should be to put gas in my car to live my life and enjoy it.

If I don't take anything else from this job other than trying to deal with people who are on a continuous power trip, it's that I need to enjoy my life.

End Rant.

What It's About

So I'm still trying to figure out what exactly I want to use this blog for but I don't exactly just want to get rid of it either.

I wanted to go over things that I do after college... But it's been 5+ years now and well... All I do is work and take care of the horses and the dog and cat. Then more work, but isn't that what the adult world is all about?

What about dieting? A lot of people do that already, but I've finally hit a bump in the road where this whole binge-eating has gotten a little ridiculous. I mean, what have I eaten since I got home... Hmm...

A small bowl of Cheerios... a giant PB&J sandwich (I mean giant)... 2 blueberry eggo waffles... and a plateful of pasta that I stuffed in my face. Before that? A coffee... And for lunch? Taco Bell. For breakfast? A cinnamon bun and another coffee... At least I drank water at work, and a few too many pieces of chocolate... with caramel and peanut butter.

Where is the girl from a few summers ago who was fit as a fiddle and felt awesome about herself all the time. Non-existent now. My show clothes don't fit... My regular clothes don't fit. My scrub pants are starting to fall down off that big donut around the middle because there's nothing to hold them up.

 There's always tomorrow right? I can make it up by then? There's always time. I feel like I said that heading into the winter. It's getting myself started that's the issue. I miss running. I miss going to the gym. I have to get that back. I mean yeah, it wasn't all too healthy the way I dropped the weight in the past but I want to do it right this time. I need to learn how to cook and what I should and shouldn't eat. It's fighting the urge for a quick fix just to get me started. But I can't do it that way... I just have to wake up one morning and finally be sick of this. Oh wait... That's been the last few months. Every morning.

As always... Maybe tomorrow.

Something a Little Different

So it's been a long time since I've posted to this blog and honestly, I can't remember what "inusitatus" even meant and where it came from. I was in high school and it was for a media class. Just basic rants about classes and nothing truly interesting... Except for prom. Oh prom. Do we all remember our senior prom? I definitely do. *sigh*

Well since then, Prout is long gone and so is my 5 years at URI, ending with a BA in Psychology. Oh joy! What to do with that? After job searching and hating, I've finally ended up at an animal hospital close to home and my 3 months is coming up. Never thought I'd be so afraid of a 3-Month Review... At least my degree still comes in handy!

The story is, I want to try and use this blog to review... life, love, experiences in general. I'm trying to live a little more so I want to check out bars, restaurants, places to hang out... Other than the beach. I'm not a beach person. I mean, it's a start for a blog. We'll see where this goes.

Life, Love, Food, and Beer!

Retreat

Today's my retreat, but I wanted to post anyway. This past weekend was absolutely amazing. I think these past few months have been the best months of my life. I can't even put them into words. Spending time with my best friends. Going to Anime Boston with my posse. Prom. Yes, Memorial Day was somewhat of a let down. But that was my fault. Now the end of the year is almost up and people are rushing to get things done. I'm just going to let everything fall into place. Yes, I'm behind in some classes, but who isn't? It will work out. I trust in myself. Thanks for making it the best school year guys! I love you all. You know who you are.

-f.A.r.I.s

Yay! New Post!

I have a couple of things to post about today:

1) Prom

Fan-f*n-tastic! It was probably one of the best nights of my life. If I could've shared it with anyone, it would have been the people I shared it with that night. Yeah, my little group coming from the house were late, but we made it didn't we? I actually felt good and everyone looked gorgeous! Everyone! Even the guys were gorgeous. My date thought everyone was going to be absolutely pissed at him that he made us late, but it was fine. He actually connected and was welcomed by, I think, just about everybody he met there. It was great!

After party, yes, we were tired, but it was great. Apples to Apples vs. Labrynth? Eh! Both at the same time! Definately have to post some pictures.

Thanks guys for the best night ever.

2) Barbaro

Unfortunately, I missed both races and being an owner of an ex-racehorse, I'm a little disappointed in myself. When I heard that Barbaro, a young colt bred from USA's La Villa Rouge and Dynaformer, had won the Kentucky Derby I was, in Dave language, pumped! I guess in a way it's favoritism because his lines go all the way back to Native Dancer, the Grey Ghost, who is also seen in my own horse's blood lines, but still. I had heard he was considered an underdog. Who doesn't love an underdog?

Monday was the first time I had heard news about the Preakness. My father had told me that a horse had broken his leg. It was not until yesterday morning driving to school when a friend told me that Barbaro had broken through the gate early and had shattered his right-rear ankle. It took 27 screws a hours of work to put the colt's ankle back together. He wasn't able to start therapy till yesterday.

I was shocked when I heard about this. This kid, if you excuse my personification, is an athlete! Thoroughbreds usually only race for a few years. If they're lucky, 'till they're six. They are bred and built to run and have an amazing lung capacity. The majority of thoroughbreds are runners. That's their job. Racehorse or not. Whenever I hear of a horse who broke through the gate too early, or was kicked, or flipped over the rail, it's upsetting. Only some of them, like Barbaro, survive a break like that. Some injured racehorses get lucky, like my horse and another up at the barn I'm at. My horse was taken out of the races because he had bowed his right tendon by groomer's mistake. His leg was wrapped incorrectly and that ruined his racing "career". I say "career" because, he wouldn't have stayed on the track very long...He was really bad at it. Anyway! I've lost where I was going with this...ONWARDS!

Back to Barbaro. In a split second, a young colt's life was falling in the air. His owners are doing everything possible for him to get better. If he makes it, which is most likely, it just so happens that for career earnings, he has made $2,302,200. 7 starts, 6 wins. Amazing huh? When he heals, he'll be looking forward to lounging in an open green field waiting people to pay him to be the sire or their mare's foal. What a life!

What.It's.Done.For.Me

Don't you hate the feeling you get when you think you've let an entire group of people down? Even if it's not a big deal or you're told that it's fine and no one will think less of you, you still feel horrible and feel like you're a let down. God, it's so obnoxious.

I was going to talk about what I've gotten out of creative writing. I was going to say how it has changed me for the worse. I was going to say that ever since I was told that I have no self-confidence, I haven't been able to find the confidence that I had before. I said less in class. I didn't bother typing anything that had to do with our daily discussions. But this is really what I have gotten out of creative writing:

I have found that yeah, my self-confidence meter is almost at zero, but that's me. No matter what people say, I'll always be Maddy. Okay, I lied. My self-confidence meter is not at zero. When I'm out with my friends, I'm not timid or afraid to speak my opinion. I do degrade myself time and time again, but it helps me realize that I'm normal. Everyone does it! Oh jeez, I'm following a trend. What a let down! (I hope you realize that statement is definately sarcastic). I'm not saying that people who are timid and shy don't have any self-confidence. Not trying to say that at all.

Then I thought, what if I'm faking the comfort I have in myself? What if my wacky, crazy side is just a cover up to make people think that I just, don't care what people think of me and that I have all the confidence in the world. But why would I do that? I asked a few people out of school and out of my normal "gang" what they thought about me and my self-confidence. They said I have more confidence than I allow myself to think I have.

It had finally dawned on me today.

What creative writing class has done for me.
How creative writing class has changed me.

It has made me realize my confidence is exactly whatever the hell I make it to be. I have more confidence in some things than others and I just focus on what other people see my confidence as. Whether it be in my own work, memorizing lines for a play and reciting in front of "professionals", or just walking around with a bunch of friends.

My confidence is what I make of it, not what I let others to tell me it is.

This is EXACTLY what creative writing has done for me.

(I love how music affects your writing.)

-f.A.r.I.s
C.p.S