Vertigo in the Midst of a Hurricane

I have a friend who means so much to me that it kills me to see him suffer. After a series of irrational and pointless arguments I'm sad to admit I've been a part of cuz it certainly wasn't a one-sided argument, I began opening my eyes to what the problem is. I don't mean to come off pretentious, despite the pretentious aura, but it's not me. When others are angry, while external forces play a role, it's deeply rooted in the angered individual.

Anger only survives in us when an imbalance and susceptibility for it is present within us. When I stopped reacting and stopped taking offense to the attacks, my perception expanded. I saw what was beyond the surface. I stopped being a part of the problem long enough to see it's not necessary to defend myself because when I do, I give power to the toxic energy and that only makes me susceptible to reciprocate.

I've been struggling in my own way with this. I've yo-yoed through a series of feelings and positions. I empathize for his suffering cuz despite my vehement position that it's self-inflicted, pain is still pain and knows no discrimination. I remember suffering the way he is. I haven't forgotten how difficult it is to let go, to feel helpless, drowning in what felt like the cause and source of my happiness, frustration, resentment, and anger, unable to separate myself from every negative energy I could possibly be linked to and even more harder in some ways continue to proceed with all that weight and burden. I didn't know how to stop. Slowing down and taking a break was perceived as a form of weakness. Even though I desperately needed a break, I refused to allow myself of such a thing. And in some ways it was even harder that I could keep going this way cuz it was discouraging. If I can keep going like this and nothing seemed to change around me, my environment, my life, my actions, my surroundings, my annoyances, people, then how can it ever get any better?

And if I never thought it could get better, I didn't want to put in the work towards improvement I didn't believe I'd ever meet. So I self-destructively sustained and perpetuated the problem, which not only changed nothing but exacerbated existing issues, as well as invite new burdens into my life. I paradoxically both knew and didn't know that I did everything I could to suspend myself in the state I was in, but I manifested even more damage into my life cuz the intensity of my rage was so powerful and subliminal that I was attracting more of it. With my own limited awareness, as well as the input of others, I was aware of my unhelpfulness and uncooperation in the matter. But I also didn't see what was going on, and that's why I was like that.

I still don't know how I got past it. I've read of the struggle and of how things got better when it was overcome, but there never seems to be much detail in the how-to. The transition between Hell to better is invisible. I went through it. I wrote about it. I still write about it. And yet I can't string together the transition, the thread that led me out of that darkness.

If anything, surviving it makes me susceptible to being intolerant to my friend's difficulty especially since it is self-inflicted! My friend's much like me a nervous person prone to stress if he's not careful. But I don't react the way he does under fire. He's asked me more than once how I've learned to not struggle the way he does. I'm sure I frustrated him with my answer which was that I couldn't really tell him. Each situation is unique and we're different people. Even if I could explain how I overcame it, it wouldn't help him. That's what I told him. The details beyond this sentence were thoughts in my mind that I kept to myself. This is something he needs to deal with internally. My source of knowledge would merely be external references for him, an insubstantial measure. The answer I gave him was a calculated one, however honest it was. But my thought to his question was that I grew up and stopped reacting like an adolescent.

You're pissed cuz you have fines. You earned them when you turned on a no u-turn sign, drove past a red light, exceeded the speed limit, parked where you weren't supposed to, or neglected to move your car when you should have. By saving at most 3 minutes (and that's a generous time line), you got a ticket cuz you turned when you shouldn't, an easily avoidable act. You take the same route weekly and are familiar with the neighborhoods you drive through. These are conscientious choices on your part. And it's not like he was running late and had any reason or motivation to rush.

You get caught, while others get away with it. It's true, that's unfair. I'm not disagreeing with that. So then what? You wanna keep focusing on how it's fucking unfair or do you want to make YOUR situation better by making the necessary and easy adjustments? If you know what you're doing wrong and how that's the cause of your problem but continue to do it, then you're responsible for it. Other people are on the road just like you. Other people take the same route to work just like you. But not everyone is getting fined just like you cuz their actions are different from yours.

Instead of recognizing and accepting where the fault lies, which means he has to face his own self-criticism cuz he's unable to examine things objectively and without judgment, he blames the government and meter maids. Sure, our system's flawed. Meter maids want you to screw up, and our system is created in a way that our government profits from our mistakes rather than investing in responsible drivers. The citizens are the ones at a disadvantage at the end. But that still doesn't change how you're creating the problem for yourself as a conscientious driver knowledgeable of the law and rules.

There's no flaw in my logic, and he knows it whether I express it or not. It's obvious! That also adds to his frustration cuz HE keeps fucking up. He's upset with himself. And it's understandable. But nothing will get better if nothing changes. Knowing this he still continues to sabotage himself and then he finds himself over burdened and desperate to unload.

Sometimes you just wanna lash out cuz when you're filled with negativity, it has to be released. No matter how irrational a person's being, it's important to give them room to boil over so they can normalize. But there's a fine line between releasing the hostility and allowing it room to grow by feeding into it every time you express it. This has been building inside of him for a solid year now. A fucking year of bitching by an adult who sets his behavior up for this exact consequence. Seeing how his complaints and repercussions are the same, he's aware of the mistakes that it causes. So WHAT...THE....FUCK....

Things have gotten so bad for him that everything's an escalation from what it actually is. He let things get out of hand, and he's struggling to resume control. As a result, minor details enrage him as if it's 500% percent worse than it actually is. He's ashamed of his reaction and blames others for it cuz he believes it's triggered by the actions of others. So not only does he get livid when something he considers unacceptable occurs, but he's raging with anger whenever there's a disagreement and by disagreement I mean even minor, minor details. It's frightening how emotionally hostile he gets over matters that are so dismissive.

Wall art
Washing the dishes
Opening the blinds

He has this green wall shelf decoration. It's a huge box with boxes within it. It's decorative. You can place stuff on it, whatever you'd like really. It was temporarily sitting below the kitchen island when he first received it. They're both a shade of green and the color complimented each other well. I said I liked where it was placed. I know that wasn't meant to be there or will be there permanently, but I was just commenting on the unique placement. I'm weird. I like weird stuff. I mean, who puts a large boxy wall shelf below a kitchen island in the hallway area sitting on top of a carpet? Yes, it's odd and would be very misplaced. But is it so severe that it should be the cause of yelling and being condescending and rude and disrespectful? Fuck no!

I swear all I said is I like where you put it. He said it's not going to stay there, that it's supposed to be on the wall. I said I know, but I like where it is. It's different. He repeated himself and now in retrospect he expressed it with frustration and a mild tinge of hostility that it's supposed to be on the wall. I still said I liked it cuz it's unique.

It's as if he got upset cuz my belief was a disruption against what's supposed to be, and he has so little tolerance for things that aren't the way they're supposed to be cuz he's unhappy with his life and how he feels it's not the way it's supposed to be. I wish I had that epiphany while the argument was taking place. I would've invested far less energy into it. Since the conversation was so harmless in my eyes, I didn't realize the hostility that rose from what I poured into, my thoughts... I mean who would've thought it would lead to its ultimate destination?

So after I said it's unique, he yelled at me that it was stupid. What about a coffee table on the wall and an upside down couch? That's unique. It's different. And no one's doing it. Then he reminds me that no one does it cuz it's not supposed to be like that and it's stupid! Over reaction much? That should've been my response. That's it. I shouldn't have bothered to take offense over something so trivial and stupid. But I did. I got upset. I was hurt. I mean really devastated not by the words but the emotional hostility, disrespectful, and rudeness that carried those other powerless words.

A culmination of reactions like those made me face the undeniable reality that it's a lot less about me and more about him. I really doubt I was responsible for his actions cuz perhaps I was being rude, condescending, and disrespectful in some way outside of that brief conversation that stirred a hostility in him that could no longer be contained. And even if I did, he invented the walled coffee table and upside couch cuz a pointless, irrelevant hypothetical situation was able to so easily anger him. How is that on me?

He admitted to me that his friend pisses him off cuz he wakes up in the afternoon. He said it judgmentally about how he's unproductive and gets nothing done cuz the morning is when people should wake up. He and his friend aren't in business together. He's not losing profit. It's not interfering with them hanging out. When they're together, they enjoy each other's company. His friend's sleep pattern isn't disrupting his sleep pattern. He's in such a heightened state of anger, hostility, and criticism that he's conditioned to effortlessly identify things he disapproves of and lashes out at it relentlessly, even when those things have no direct impact on his life.

When his DVD player didn't operate correctly, he literally had a meltdown. I mean, screaming, the heavy panting breathing, and just flipping out. It was freaky. Not being able to find parking was so stressful for him that he began sweating profusely, he got clammy, and it got so bad that he got vertigo and incredibly pale and weak. His hands looked lifeless and he had little energy to move his arms. He could barely keep his eyes open. When he forced them open, they opened very slowly and his eyelids looked like they were weighing down heavily.

His actions leave me unsympathetic and pitiless towards him. But when it manifests into physical concerns, I worry. I mean, I really worry. Since I can emotionally detach myself and have learned to not get contaminated by his negativity, I have no desire to abandon him. He stressed himself out so badly that he got a fever and he recovered surprisingly quickly. A full day of resting made a world of difference. But he got angry when I asked him if he wanted to sleep on his bed.

I know some people take offense to stuff like that however well-intentioned it is cuz they perceive it as condescending or treating someone as weak. If I show that I care about you and you take it negatively, that's not my fault. With that said, I ask cuz I want my friends to feel better. If such a question will only exacerbate the situation, I'll keep my mouth shut. I can care about someone in silence. But in this case he wasn't mad at me; he was mad at what it represented, that he's sick. His anger didn't last, though, as he could barely stand. I accompanied him on a two hour ride which should've totaled to four hours but actually lasted six hours cuz I was afraid that his fever would relapse. He was barely able to keep his head straight just hours before.

I can't tell someone like him to not go for a drive. It'll only anger the rebellion, which is likely to weaken him. I had to ask him to take me to Robeks as a favor to me when I wanted him to get some nourishment. He admitted to me that it helped and gave him a boost of energy. He said it was easier to move. If you could barely keep your fucking head up and your body feels weak, why the fuck would you be behind the wheel?

I'm glad he's safe, and I don't regret ensuring that. Every so often, I told him I wanted to stop and pee. He would get annoyed, but each time I felt like his focus was shifting was when I made these requests and it always ended with him saying I made a good judgment. It's frightening to think of what could've happened if I wasn't there cuz I've seen him struggle going up three flights of stairs. He'd walk like a drunk person and be completely sober. But I'd rather he not be like this.

I'd rather he return to the positive and happy person he used to be. I wish he'd face the difficulty he's trying so hard to ignore as a way to overcome it. I wish he'd stop focusing on small details and see the big picture cuz it takes time even after realizing the big picture to shift our moods that have solidified in negativity. I wish he'd stop being a victim to fixed beliefs that productivity should dominate and step away from engaging in inefficient tasks and meditate where he used to. I wish every time he has an opportunity to get upset and complain about the cause, he chooses to do somethign else, anything else. Listen to good music. Think up three positive things to say. It sounds cheesy, but he has to change his habits.

Being negative has become a conscious, subconscious, and unconscious habit. It's become a toxic lifestyle. To change it, he has to actively engage in positive thinking. His brain probably hasn't released happy chemicals in so long that he has to alert them and entertain them before they become operational again.

I wish he would realize how important he is and make himself a priority. Yes, the clutter in his apartment is stressing him out but if twenty minutes of trying to clean it up leaves him angry for six hours, then he needs to take a break rather than try and push through it. It may not seem productive to go to the beach for a day and do nothing cuz he'll have nothing measurable to show for it, but sometimes the most valuable things are immeasurable. I wish he would realize that.

I won't abandon him right now as long as I can stay positive through all of this, but I don't want to have to be disciplined and focused to stay anchored. I'd much rather be doing something else rather than babysitting an adult from himself. I know he didn't ask for me to turn him into my responsibility and I know it sounds incredibly condescending. But I'm not exaggerating when I say he could drive off and get into a car accident. Something has to change cuz if it doesn't, I won't be here. Right now he's continuing down a road deeper and much darker. I won't be able to stay above the negativity for much longer and when I run out of breath, I'm going to go on survival mode and he'll be alienated. I care about him, but I refuse to go down with the ship.

Being Thrown off the Path

The retention problem I have with employment is actually really ridiculous. It's rivaling my attendance in school. Getting my ass kicked so badly that I can't move in foster care and group homes, then life threatening allergies. It's always one thing or another. It's so frustrating. I'm frustrated even expressing this, and that's why I hide these circumstances from everyone.

It's not that these things aren't a big deal. But when it keeps happening after a while, regardless of the reasons, however legitimate they may be, at the end it's still me who's failing to deliver or follow through. On an intuitive level, it's easy to assess that it's because I'm not meant to be where I am. But it's ridiculous how such barriers keep building up around me. What the Hell else am I supposed to do? I resented the fact that school wasn't for me. Not because I particularly enjoyed sitting inside a boxed classroom where everything's structured and institutionalized, but it's the normal thing to do. I know, I know I'm not normal. And do I really honestly want to be? No, but I hate getting bitch slapped cuz I'd like to participate in the society I'm a part of. However I must admit that my life became much better when I embraced what works for me and not the standardized perception. Dropping out of school is one of the best things I've done for myself, but I have nothing to show for it.

I could care less about not showing it to others who would disapprove. I'm unhappy with this result. If I'm not in school, I feel like my time should be spent elsewhere and there should be some form of evidence, some progress. I see none. As for work, I can't just stop working!

I hate this feeling where I'm adamant about something but surrounded by signs that question my position. Am I really not intelligent? Someone tells me go make 2 copies. When I walk away, I immediately forget how many copies I'm supposed to print. This happens with so many different things! I can't even hold down a job that I could've and have done during my pre-teen years!

It's no wonder with that kind of performance that I can't hold down a job. There are so many jobs where I've sensed the demise and not in a self-fulfilling prophecy sort of way but in a the universe was trying to prevent it from even occurring sort of way. I interview at a place where the freeway is shut down and I have to be picked up to attend the interview!!!! W...T...F...!!!!! Obviously barriers existed. So many stories like that permeate me. This is the first job where I actually sensed I'll last, although it wasn't a very secure and strong feeling. I don't know how I could've gotten this one wrong.

Why am I constantly thrown off the path like this? It seems like every time I do the wrong thing, the universe fights fire with fire and I get knocked on my ass. Yes, maybe it's coincidental that I just got sick but my life is a series of coincidental unfortunate circumstances. I'm so tired of whining about it. But if I'm to report about my life, that's what it is.

I hate people who sit there and play the victim. That's why I keep on going. But it's as if because I keep on trucking, more bullshit tries to weigh me down, each time heavier than before. I'm becoming weaker, less stubborn, and less determined. But I have no idea what else I'm supposed to do. I don't want to just breakdown and cry. I need a fucking job. I have my health to be concerned about with finances I don't have. What am I going to do? Life's a bitch! And all I want is a fucking break!

I don't want short-lived breaks that offer temporary financial solutions that leave me feeling devastated and inferior. I'd like some divine intervention and guidance towards exactly what it is I should be fucking doing! I'm not even sure I believe in all of that, but I believe everything has energy. I'd like that energy to expose and really direct to the best path where I won't falter every few fucking months! I'd like a God damn change! And a good one!

A Weekend Turned Week Hellish Nightmare

***For anyone I referred to this entry cuz I want a quick and effective way to explain why I was hospitalized can choose to skip certain parts of this entry and begin reading when the asterisks ******* begin.

All of my weekend plans consistently fell apart. It's as though this tragic event was inevitable and the universe was trying to keep me unoccupied for when it occurs. Initially I believed a Vegas trip was going to happen this weekend. But my friend didn't see my response until Friday evening or technically midnight of Saturday when he complained I can't believe I'm waiting for you to be let into someone's place when I should be in Vegas but everyone cancelled at the last minute. He proceeds to share that he tried to recruit others, but it was too last minute. When I reveal to him that I said I wanted to go, he frantically checks his text messages. Ironically the two of us were available to hang out cuz we didn't go to Vegas when we wanted to go all along.... =_____= Although it was certainly a good thing I wasn't there this weekend, I must admit considering the turn of events.

I was also invited to a huge party quite a ways away from the city, accessible enough but provides an adequate amount of distance from modern society to escape into nature, a community that lives as closely to a conventionally society free organization. They were having a huge gathering with food (mostly vegetarians and vegan menus as many of them abhor animal protein), music (since that area seems to draw some of the most musically talented souls), artists, travelers, gardeners, and so many other types of interesting people as well as other indulgences such as hot tubs, nearby hiking trails, and even hot springs!!! How I would've loved to have gone, but again it was best considering the circumstance it didn't happen.... Sigh.

Then I was invited to another gathering, which frankly carried less appeal but it would've been easiest to get to and I hadn't seen a few of them in quite some time. If it were any other day, I would've been more open to going. I'm just not sure if I was up to the task when I knew I'd rather be somewhere else, not that I wouldn't have enjoyed myself. As if it matters now... They're great people, but they're more friends of friends I get along well with. The reason they wanted me there was cuz it was going to be a huge celebration. One of the guy's girlfriend got pregnant and they'll be moving out of the country at the end of the month. That's quite newsworthy. It's unfortunate I wasn't there to share in the joy. But I had my own life changing experience set in motion for me that I had to answer to...

I contemplated whether I wanted to indulge my entire medical diagnosis on a public forum and decided to because I plan on writing detailed reviews identifying negligent practitioners who played a role in such a preventable outcome on my other blogs linked to this one, so full disclosure would be required.

*****BEGIN READING NOW TO FIND OUT ABOUT HOSPITALIZATION*******

I was with a guy I had an allergic reaction to, an experience I never had before i.e., vaginal discharge. I went to see the gynecologist, Dr. Frances Teng, MD who practices in Pasadena, CA. As many doctors do, I was given a series of antibiotics that never seemed to work. It also took quite some time to notice the correlation of the cause - sexual interaction. Note, I've always been diligent about getting tested for AIDS/HIV, syphillis, chlamydia, gonorrhea, and other common STDs. And again since the reaction took some time to form and because I was experiencing other stress in my life such as getting illegally but intrusively evicted from my apartment complex by my landlord while her husband was stalking me, my job being in jeopardy, and being a victim in a car accident only for the asshole to flee and continually harass me even after the incident, it was plausible to believe my gynecologist's assessment that it was a reaction to stress. But the symptoms never seemed to subside and persisted despite my diligent use of the antibiotics.

Eventually I stopped wasting my time and money on a treatment that was clearly not working since I'm not trying to develop antibiotic resistant cells which I'm sure by now I have already developed. What's worse is the doctor had the audacity to tell me that the discharge must be excess and no longer be a sign of an existing infection or perhaps when I wash myself, I'm flushing water in there and it's causing an irritation. =______= I've always been hygienic especially down there, and no I don't douche because I'm educated enough to know that contrary to popular belief, it can do more harm than good by killing off good bacteria. If you do an adequate job cleaning yourself, you don't have to flush your system of beneficial bacteria to be odor free.

Also I've been having fevers when I menstruate which is a classic symptom of an infection. However, I was told repeatedly that no infection has been detected and I was perceived as being agoraphobic. What's the point of being alarming when everyone thinks I'm crying wolf and nothing is treated? So I proceeded with my life and somehow a year has passed by me. Time is so elusive and has a way of passing us by incredibly quickly!

I wouldn't be surprised and expect anyone reading this to wonder why in the Hell I would let a year go by. But honestly what else am I supposed to do? I've been to several clinics and three different gynecologists. It's not like I didn't put in the effort. I was just running out of resources. I was also sharing this very private matter with a few trusted friends, too. Unfortunately my incident is far too common, but it's not information people understandably publicize. It's this unawareness that leads to hospitalization of something that should be preventable!

I'm no longer involved with the guy I had a reaction to and there's still even some question about whether it was him I was allergic to because of my symptoms. He has no STD's and has been involved with other women since me, and no one else seems to have this reaction. I feel so special... =_____= My symptoms have subsided temporarily and then resurfaced.

In fact, the two days before I became hospitalized which was on Sunday, I did have some heavy discharge I've never experienced before. But long before that, I developed a sharp and persistent pain on my left lower pelvic/abdomen area and my back left area which eventually spread to my right side, but the pain wasn't as intense, although sometimes it would be. Overall, my left side was far more excruciating in pain. It's amazing what the body adapts to. Since I have such a low tolerance for pain, I can't just whine about every sensation. It distorts my perception. I assumed I was being overly dramatic and ignored it until I eventually adapted to it. It certainly wasn't my preferred choice, but what else was I supposed to do? I took all the measures I possibly could by consulting medical practitioners that specialize in this field only to be assured nothing is wrong. I refused to breakdown about it as life passed me by.

How frightening is it that my body was trying to communicate with me that something is wrong only to go ignored by experts trained in this field? The pain was so paralyzing and debilitating that it woke me up from my sleep and I fell off the bed, unable to move. My entire lower stomach area was completely clenched, and I could do or feel nothing but be delirious from the torment. I knew action had to be taken, but I also intuitively and adamantly knew the answer wasn't to go to the Emergency Room because they wouldn't be equipped to handle this situation. They'd go based on statistics and waste their time testing me for food and other stomach related ailments, but I knew, I just knew it had something to do with the vaginal discharge I've been having.

This is an unpleasant thing to read, I know, but it's nothing compared to going through it. And I strongly urge anyone who's still reading this to continue since you've read so much already, and you my experience is unfortunately a common outcome for many sufferers. You might as well armor yourself with this knowledge, so if you ever come across anyone who goes through what I went through, you'll be able to offer some sort of insight. My friend advised me to not go to the ER as I had suspected but to go to an urgent care clinic which another friend had recommended me to. I went to Pacific Alliance Medical Center in Chinatown Los Angeles, CA.

I promise you it's one of the best kept secrets. Because it's a smaller institution, the staff isn't overwhelmed and are able to assist the patients being admitted. They're also caring and demonstrate human compassion, qualities I believed no longer existed in emergency situations and had accepted long ago. I arrived in noticeable pain, hunched over and unable to stand straight, so they rushed someone to get a wheelchair for me which made a world of difference.

I was given a cat scan rather quickly and they noticed a lot of cloudiness around my appendix, so the physician on site deduced it was either a ruptured appendix or an appendicitis. As with many physicians who go purely based on statistics, he was in all honestly rather narrow-minded. He was polite but ignored a huge chunk of valuable information I provided. I said I had pelvic pain and he pressed into the left pelvic area and listened to me as I described my vaginal discharge and said but that's completely unrelated. (You'll read how that's untrue before the end of this piece). I emphasized pain on my left side, and he kept bringing the attention back to my right side! He persisted if I had pain on my right side, and I agreed. But I said I also have pain on my left side. Then he asks if I have more pain on the right side, as though he's trying to fit my symptoms to match his diagnosis. It doesn't work that way!

Okay, so this hidden gem has flaws, but give me one medical facility in the United States that isn't laced with faults. He insisted I go into surgery, even though we had no idea which of the two it could be - a ruptured appendix or an appendicitis. Appendix related pain begins from the upper body and travels lower. I was exhibiting the exact opposite pain direction. So after some insistence, I was told I can have an enema which is when fluid is inserted into the rectum to get a clearer idea of what's going on around the appendix. The liquid would offer a color contrast, and it was through this painful, MISERABLE but valuable experiment that a ruptured appendix was ruled out. Then I was given a consultation with the surgeon who I immensely respect. I believe his name is Dr. Alfredo Jose.

Dr. Jose was immediately doubtful that I required surgery for appendix, which was such a relief for me cuz it's frightening how common it is for the appendix is removed even when there's no justification for one. And by that I mean they can't prove there's anything wrong with the appendix. I understand time is of the essence, but perhaps if less time and priority was spent on action i.e., surgery and more time developed the analytical and intuitive mind, unnecessary and uncostly procedures would be greatly eliminated and everyone's focus will go into treating what's actually going on with patients, rather than distracting tasks! Dr. Jose requested a pelvic sonogram, and it was discovered that I have an inflamed left ovary caused by either a ruptured cyst or an absess. The cause is still unknown. I also had an inflamed appendix. This led to a diagnosis of Pelvic Inflammatory Disease.

Pelvic Inflammatory Disease is a curable disease where inflammation occurs on the pelvic and spread to other organs. And this is why it was such a bitch to diagnose me! It's primary causes are an ectopic pregnancy or two common STDs, gonorrhea or chlamydia of which I have none. Although I did have an ectopic pregnancy scare. An ectopic pregnancy is when a pregnancy occurs outside of the uterus and inside of the fallopian tube. Because of its location, you can be tested negative for pregnancy when you are in fact pregnant, and a fetus can't survive in the fallopian tube. So it dies and ruptures inside of a woman causing unbearable pain. Now moving on to the STD.

You'll have to forgive me while I go on a rant but a valuable one, I promise! Did you know in 10% of STD positive cases, it'll show up negative if you're on antibiotics??? WTF!!!! You know how many people are on antibiotics? And exactly how much antibiotics in the system masks the STD? What about residual antibiotics? Cuz it does stay in the system for a while. Not to mention chicken uses antibiotics. And what about accutane and other acne treating medications? It's startling to think of how many people could be walking around with STD's and have no idea cuz this fact isn't being shared! Too many people are negligent about being tested as it is and rely on condoms as a safe source of protection. Now I find out that even tests aren't reliable, and this information is kept secret! How outraged I feel! In my personal case, I'm diligent about being tested, so I know I wasn't on antibiotics but still! Either way you look at it, it's a lose lose situation. I don't have STD's or an ectopic pregnancy, and my symptoms go ignored. Had I have had an STD, it could have been masked by my diet? Am I over exaggerating? Who knows! Since there's so much discretion about antibiotics masking STD's! It's just 10%, but what alarms me is the fact that this detail goes unexpressed!

The only thing they really knew for sure was that issues on my left ovary and appendix. I was given a culture test to see if it could be any other type of bacteria, but the tests came back negative. The doctor basically said we have no idea what she has, so treat her for everything under the sun including bacteria infections that won't show up on test results. ***Oh and I'm sorry I failed to mention that the first thing that was checked was my white blood cell count which was highly elevated at 18%. A normal person's white blood cell count is 5-10%. So there was undeniably an infection going on. But what that infection was went unidentified.

All this time I've been going to the doctor, and they never checked my white blood cell count. Had they have done that, they would've known something was the matter, that it wasn't merely excess water. Last time I checked, water was clear... -_____- At least now I know what should be examined, although I'm hoping future incidences such as these don't occur again. I'm not sure if gynecologists are even equipped to examine white blood cell counts. So if you know anyone who's suffering unidentifiable excruciating pain that's sharp, persistent, and long-term, please go to the closest Urgent Care and request your white blood cell count to be inspected.

I was put on seven different heavy antibiotics, demerol, a pain reducing medication, and an anti-nausea medicine, zofrane. All of these were through an IV. I could still feel everything with demerol, so then they switched me to morphine. If any of you know me, you know I'm tiny. But guess what? They gave it to me one evening and I was up on the phone with a friend until 6 am. He said we could talk for as long as I wanted until I fell asleep. We actually got off the phone cuz he had to go to work. My mom was surprised by how lucid I was. If I didn't move, I didn't feel much pain. But if I readjusted myself even slightly on the bed, all that pain came rushing back to me and was such a shock to my system.

To make matters worse, I began developing an allergic reaction to one of the medications, but we still aren't sure which one. My right hand developed bug bite looking things, but I kept my mouth shut cuz it could've been actual bug bites. However over time, my right hand began to swell. So they switched my anti-nausea medication to reglin. (Not sure if I have the correct spelling there). It could've been demerol, but I was already off of it. I went longer than I would've liked without anti-nausea medication cuz they were waiting for the pharmacy to supply it only to discover that the manufacturer hasn't made the IV version yet. During this time, I also had a really low blood pressure of 70/40. A normal person's blood pressure is 120/80, so they took me off of the morphine. Therefore I could feel all the pain and the nausea. In fact, I threw up which also became problematic because they decided to give me my anti-nausea medication in large tablet form except I was throwing everything up. Oh and the IV on top of my left hand was incredibly sore and the fluid wasn't pushing through the way it should've. So then they swapped it to my right side and the same thing happened.

It forced me to eat food, rather than receive it intravenously. Also when my blood pressure dropped, they replaced my saline solution with supplements that would increase my blood pressure. It was accelerated into my body, two bags quickly which really hurt and was very cold. I was already feeling chilly cuz I had a fever. I had one, it broke, had one again, this occurred three times during my four day stay. My white blood cell dropped to 13% which was a good sign that the infection was reducing and then my fever spikes, reflecting that my body is fighting an infection.... Great, just effing great.

Anyways I was told I could leave if I can keep my food down which was necessary since IV's were no longer working, and they weren't letting me leave without elevated potassium levels. Pfft! I felt horrible but finally I've been released, so I can share my story! :) But my life is never that simple, is it?

My job was a temp assignment, so they ended my assignment early since I was hospitalized... So I've been hospitalized and therefore terminated for it. Now I'm left with a HUGE bill to pay and no income. Great, just great.

Work Health

Unless you're wealthy, financially dependent on someone else, or one of the rare individuals who find ways to sustain a living independent of making an income, work is a requirement for most adults. And unfortunately most of us are unhappy about where we work, who we work for, our co-workers, the mistreatment, how much we get paid, etc. Being unsatisfied in the workplace is such a normality, and yet complaints are viewed as if they have no place in an environment where many people are miserable. Why is that? Listening to complaints can become intolerable, but for people to act like it's inappropriate confuses me. People complaining about complaint worthy topics is logical and a human reaction.

Yet because unpleasant work places are the normality, complaints can be shocking. People consider it to be too ordinary to complain about. Unless it's shocking or unbelievable in some way, complaints are seen as forms of ingratitude. While that's always a possibility, what I dislike is how dismissive many of us are to unfair and unhappy work environments. Obviously we can't just resign because there's something we don't like, but too much of us fail to realize what an impact work has on our emotional well-being. And that jeopardizes our health and that can effect us physically, too.

Keep in mind that most of us work 8 hour day shifts. That's 40 hours a week. Some people are too exhausted and go to sleep when they get home. Activities are limited to requirements such as eating and running errands. Some people spend their remaining time complaining about how horrible work was, so time is still being stolen even during after hours because of work. Of course if we choose to spend time complaining about it, that's on us. Whether we choose to occupy our time in that way or not doesn't change the fact that some people are tempted to do just that. For parents, work might be the only place where they get to be themselves. They talk to their co-workers, have lunch, and it's their world. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have jobs they absolutely love, but it certainly shouldn't be a source of stress so extreme that it harms your health.

I've been exposed to unbelievable work environments and experiences. I've been working since I was twelve. I worked as a maid for a crack motel. I was picking up stray needles, witnessing attacks on some days gave me insight on what time it was, and trashy and shady activities were expected. It was alarming when it wasn't going on. I worked at a Walgreens where I've had a gun pointed at my head, cops arrived after a fight broke out between a customer and me after she tipped the ladder I was on, I've been attacked and rescued by the pharmacist who also happened to be a bounty hunter. I was sixteen working for a foster care agency where a baby was thrown on my lap. I was so traumatized by that, even more so than the other experiences I've listed. I've dealt with emotionally-challenged individuals where part of my responsibilities included managing and maintaining a civil environment if I were to ever get my work done. When someone was unhappy about a five minute tardiness, the cops would be summoned. Food products contained ingredients that could be harmful for diabetics and were scheduled to be on the market at Whole Foods under false pretenses. Money was being mishandled. Employees were being exploited. Even mainstream businesses worked in harmful environments at call centers where emloyees were coughing so severely that broken ribs were taking place and yet not going to work or being late by as little as a minute three times led to termination. I've worked in the food business. I've done catering, bartending, and party promos. So being hit on, violent circumstances, and hostile customers occurred regularly enough that it was no longer shocking for me. All true stories.

Of course, I've never worked at sweat shops and been paid less than a dollar an hour. There are always worse circumstances. But my point is that I've had insanely intolerable experiences, and yet people found my complaints to be unfounded because others put up with it. How I handled these work conditions were dependent largely on my perception and emotional state.

I worked at a call center where I'd clock in later than I was scheduled for because my computer wouldn't boot up properly. I was advised to arrive to work 15-20 minutes before my assigned time. I was uncooperative and refused to make such a compromise. It's unfair to expect me to arrive to work early when I'm not being paid for it due to the company's fault. So instead I complained, complained, complained. I let the IT department know every morning that I couldn't get my computer up long before I even got to my desk. I vocalized this to several managers and senior accounts to make terminating my employment into a discouraging course of action despite their policy.

My main objection wasn't the arrival time but the principal behind it. I was difficult from the beginning and although my position warranted some validity, the extent I took to at that time wasn't. Over time, though, it became evident that this company did deserve some expression of disapproval. The ceiling above my desk was so dirty that people were coughing like crazy. One of my co-workers had a chronic cough so severe that he couldn't sleep lying down. Others had to have surgery for their carpal tunnel. The company had no ethics and we were employed to lie to customers about matters we knew wouldn't be resolved. So we essentially were getting paid to be mistreated on both sides and experienced injuries as a result of it. Our job security became compromised when someone declines to pay for a co-workers birthday when we've never even met the person if this co-worker was well liked by a supervisor.

Although these things aren't fair, it's also very common. So many people tolerate it. I believe in the power of manifestation, and I'm actually really good at it. I believe everything has energy and when I really want something, I get it. However the instant gratifications aren't nearly as rewarding as waiting for something more valuable based on a set of high standards.

I've been trying to manifest a job that suits my needs and desires better. I refer to it as employment with purpose. Over time each job I've held has less and less of the drama. I'm not be reprimanded for wearing an outfit considered to be too revealing (a long skirt with a slit slightly above my knee) by a supervisor who's dress was so low that when she was talking to me I could see the color of her nipples... I don't have a manager who squeezes in between me and my co-worker because we're talking with disruptions from her like she's my best friend in a baby voice only to be told that I need to return to work when she knows I just started my lunch break.

Sometimes I could sense that if I developed a relationship outside of a professional one with my supervisors that my job would be secure, but I find myself unable to fabricate such bonds. If anything it strengthens my professional personality. I believe that if I do my job well and I'm not disruptive, my job should be secure. When I'm able to connect with my co-workers and supervisors on a personal level it's because I can sense the fairness they possess.

This current assignment I'm on surrounds me with people who are professional and mature. They aren't monitoring my performance, so they can scrutinize it. They're focused on themselves and prioritize fairly. I don't have to worry that small talk with a co-worker will lead to a manager accusing me of being selfish for occupying someone's time when I was the one being approached. There's none of that bullshit.

It's a temp to hire position. I'm assigned here until April. If they're happy with my performance, I'll be asked to stay indefinitely. I do my job well, but I'm not spectacular at it. As a reception I do exactly what I'm asked and demonstrate intelligence and observation when necessary. But I'm certainly not being talked about because my phone voice is out of this world. I don't know if I'm being too critical or not, but maybe I won't be asked to stay beyond tax season. I do believe it's possible. I can do my job well and I don't cost an arm and leg to employ. However they don't seem to need anyone outside of the busy season. I guess time will reveal my place here.

Working in this environment has made me realize how conditioned I've become to a toxic mentality. If I staple papers too soon and all I need to do is remove it, I sense an involuntary panic that I'm getting fired. Dramatic much? I'm finally getting a taste of what it's like to be in a breathable work environment.

It's opening my eyes to how damaging my train of that is. I experiened a shooting pain down my spine when I panicked about the most asinine detail. That sort of thing was so common that I used to never give it atention. It no longer shocked my body. Now I feel like my body's screaming at me every time I unnecessarily stress it out. It's refreshing and an educational experience.

This job is easy to do, and it gives me a lot of free time. I feel like I need to take advantage of it. If I don't, the universe might sabotage my place here because when I get too comfortable and it becomes a liability, the universe tries to set me back on track. I love to write, so I have to create a system where I can write at work. I already have projects I started, so I need to send myself copies of them. That way I can continue them here.

For so long I've wanted to find work in an office that was slow paced enough to allow me to focus on my writing and other priorities. But now that I have that chance, I have no idea how to take advantage of the time I have since it's all new for me. So I better figure it out because if this job does turn out to be temporary, I want to make it count by making progress on some of my writing projects. This still remains true even if it becomes long-term.

Stupid iPad!!!

I wrote a ton of inspiring entries on my iPad when I didn't have access to my laptop. I tried to copy and paste it, but it didn't work and I deleted a ton of writing. :( I wish I would have been able to share it on here because in a long time, they're inspiring and positive writing. I guess the jist of it is that I've been bonding a lot more with my adoptive mom. I don't have the greatest relationship with my biological family and it's my adoptive family that I truly consider family. But I always kept them at a distant.

My mom and brother have always been welcoming especially my mom, and I've always feared being just another welcomed member in their life when what I really want is a family. There's also a fear of being rejected the way I've been by my biological mom that I think has been stirring inside of me. They're two different people, but fear has a way of being irrational. After seeing this guy I'm involved with connecting with his family on a regular basis, it made me miss my own.

I'm grateful in a way he'll never know and also for the best mother advice I could've received. With matters to the heart, she reminded me to let things form organically. I really like the way the word organically is used there. She gave me a lot of great advice, but that one stuck out the most because it's so foreign to who I am.

I've also been hesitant about facing her because I have no idea what I want to do with my life, and it's discouraging. I don't want to face another mom and feel inadequate. These feelings were never a result of how she made me feel but what I was concerned about. Overcoming them was important because as it turns out, she gave me wonderful advice. I wrote down a list of 10 things I love to do and 10 things I'm good at. I was also directed to www.cacareerzone.org to not only get a profile of jobs within my interests but also detail into what my expenses are in my area. It's so refreshing to get some productive suggestions.

Too many job profiles are just that, profiles. Impersonal and vague. I'm often the one people seek out at EDD offices for advice. That's not cool. There are trained professionals, and I'm being recruited to revise resumes? O_o I've even been offered a job placement specialist position, but the location even by car is two hours away. I don't drive and have no desire to move. The increase in salary will actually be a financial downgrade with the required expenses that'll add on like a car, etc. Plus I'm not interested in that. I'm looking forward to the insights I receive.

Sabotage, Go Away!

I’m ashamed of my recent behavior. I spent the past few years improving myself. I allowed some negativity to seep away and welcomed positive acknowledgements of myself. I can say honestly that I believe I’m an attractive woman. Even with a petite figure, I consider myself sexy. I used to view sexiness as a sign of curves, which I believed I lack. I have smaller curves but small is still something and it fits my figure. Once I began recognizing these qualities in myself and embraced them, I began to both notice and attract others who saw it in me as well.

As I’m typing this out, I’m having an epiphany. I’ve made progress on a superficial level. Outer beauty only goes so far. There’s so much more to me than what the eye can see. In the past few years, I did more than see what was already there. I became a better person.

I've become empathetic, receptive, and able to help people. Others gravitate towards me and open up to me about their struggles. I offer them encouragement and support. I’m perceptive and personalize my approach uniquely to each individual. I realize the value of self-growth and change. Already aware of diversity and individuality, I know not to force my hand. I’m a dominant personality and have excellent people skills, so the truth is I can manipulate and coerce people to make rapid progress and improvements. But it isn’t the end result as much as the journey, the discoveries and lessons you learn along the way that truly matter. Keeping these things in mind, I make a positive difference in peoples’ lives.

It also allows me to be intuitively attuned, which is essential for me. It’s as much a benefit for me as it is for my friends. Altruism is also a new facet I’ve developed. Being intuitive has also made me more understanding, patient, and tolerant. Awareness really brings these qualities out of me. Impatience, I’ve discovered, is a result of imbalance. It’s a side effect. We have difficulty accepting that we can’t control everything. Intolerance comes from ignorance, a lack of understanding, limitation in exposure, and inexperience. Intuition allows me to understand things at a deeper level, making me patient and tolerant. The apparent struggles in my friends make me more considerate, thoughtful, and generous. I’m inspired to offer them some sort of comfort.

Please know that I’m not trying to roll out the I’m perfect carpet, but I want to bring some balance into my life. I’m so quick to criticize myself and yet I refrain from acknowledging positive qualities. I’m not being egotistical, conceited, or vain; I’m being open and honest. And this weekend has been a demonstration of how I need to embrace all of my positive qualities.

When you have low self-esteem, you’re more likely to reject love or any kind of affection. I’m now more receptive to the attention and idea of guys being attracted to me, but on an intimate level, I still keep myself at a distance. Any sign (I interpret) as his disinterest and I become unpleasant. I’m consumed with negativity and transparent self-criticism. I don’t verbalize them, not out of consideration for others, but because I can’t bear facing the idea of being rejected for being inadequate. Yet everything has energy. So what I’m not articulating is still being subliminally released.

The more abstract and intangible something is like feelings, the more fragile I become. Instead of being open, receptive, affectionate, comfortable, and genuine, I act in contradiction to what I want to keep me safe. I’m rigid in what I hear and glue myself to negativity, unwilling to release myself from it or face the possibility that people change their minds. There’s a guy I like who’s become more affectionate and I can feel his feelings for me deepening, but I remember him withdrawaling. This is a relationship guy who had me and began pulling away. I’m only left believing that it’s because he’s not interested anymore.

Something he said could’ve been interpreted in two different ways and of course I concluded and closed it off as the negative one. He was less intimate but wanted to spend more time with me. He became more affectionate and more open but then he all of a sudden withdrew. When we talked about it, he said he wanted to see me but didn’t want to hurt me and slow down because we were leading towards a relationship and he didn't want to move too quickly. I revealed to him that I thought he was losing interest in me and he said, “No, quite the opposite.”

One can argue that he’s beginning to like me and is taking things carefully. The opposing argument is that he’s withdrawaling because he doesn’t want to end up in a relationship with me and doesn’t want to hurt me. When I wanted to talk to him and call him, I didn’t. He usually makes the effort, so I thought his distance was a desire of his and I didn’t want to counter that with my presence. He thought that was nuts and said I should’ve called him.

When we were around each other, he was fairly affectionate but not as much as before. I suppose if I reciprocated, we could’ve reached that level again. Of course, I withdrew. People observed us sarcastically as the picture of happiness. I was unhappy and did everything I could to almost retain that feeling. I gave him some oranges and took only what I needed. He told me to leave one for him at my place, so he can eat it. It was a gesture that he was trying to warm me up to, but I ruthlessly rejected that orange. How insane is that?

I was snappy and my attitude infected him. I’m not excusing my behavior, but this is also around the same time a few of my friends were going through a hard time. I think I was channeling some of their emotions. Instead of detaching myself from them as I usually do, I felt too defeated to put in the effort that’s required to do just that. It affected my well-being, and I took it out on someone who didn’t deserve it. Now I feel like I’m back to square one. I don’t want to give him reasons to not want to be with me, despite what my self-sabotaging actions may suggest.

If every time we get close, I do something to make even the idea of spending time with me appealing, I’ll be securing a no relationship guarantee. That’s honestly not what I want. And how I’ve been behaving isn’t who I am. Of course, how am I supposed to convince him of that? He only knows what he sees. And once the damage is done, it’s done.

I criticized and obliterated my existing positive qualities. As I was developing new ones, it didn’t occur to me that I’ll once again destroy them harshly because that habit is imbedded in me. I thought I was so hard on myself before because I believed what my parents told me. I thought once I believed in myself that my behavior would change, but unfortunately that isn’t so.

Fortunately, however, I’m aware. No matter what happens with him, he’s already proven himself as a friend for life. Even if I ruin my chances at a romantic endeavor, I’ll always have what matters most - our friendship. I see girls being brutal to my friends and eventually it wears on them and they go their separate ways. My friends look back at those toxic experiences kind-heartedly saying that she’s a good person, but she’s too insecure and it was too much for me. No matter how awful they were to them, my friends always saw the good in them. I’m not nearly as horrible as them (not that it matters because it isn’t a comparison or competition), but I hope no matter what I do, my goodness will always triumph.

This plea is more about self-empowerment than it is about rejection because this is bigger than some guy. This is about my self-esteem. I need to be more secure in myself and know that I’m worth it. I need to be liberated from my emotional imprisonments. Not just for any guy who’s involved with me but for myself.

To Travel This Stagnant Energy

Today's weather reflects my mood and internal state of mind. It's gloomy but mild. Not at all intense in heat or windy. The air is still and flat. Stagnant such is my state of mind.

I never seem to have both feet standing within the same space but one foot in each side of the water or opposing force, perpetuating this paradoxical state that leaves me unsatisfied. It's difficult to enjoy what I'm immersed in when I'm distracted and unable to focus on what I'm experiencing since it's only a partial experience. I can also feel the echo of wherever else I'm standing in. It's in my nature to never completely jump into something. I dip one foot in and leave the other foot out. It's my comfort zone. If I put both feet in the water, I'm dizzy from the overwhelming change and find myself quickly reverting to my partial immersion.

It's devastating when you feel like you can only manage life when you're pussy footing your way around it. I can either stay where I am, unsatisfied and stagnant. Longing for something more. Or I can withdrawal even further or dive into something and make a splash. These changes require some adjustment and until it takes place, I find myself struggling and drowning. Why does it have to be so difficult before it can become enjoyable? I'm not even sure it can be because frankly I've never lasted long enough before I withdrew entirely.

I don't know if I made a vow in my past life or if I subliminally made a promise to the universe now, but it seems like if I'm not working towards a conducive path, things just seem to fall apart. I'm able to find enough side hustle to make rent, but besides that I can't seem to tether myself to much. I don't understand. This has nothing to do with the economy because I get tons of job offers, but they don't last for a myriad of reasons that really are out of my control - delayed bus, technical error I'm not responsible for, a miscommunication that's later followed by an apology because I wasn't at fault but the damage is done by then, a company falls apart and loses funding, a company decides to relocate, etc etc!!!

My intuition has developed a lot over the years and I can sense when I'm not on the right path. I seem to encounter more errors than anything. So what am I supposed to do? Continue to get rejected and carry that kind of energy around me? Or continue to keep looking since I'm coming across enough freelance gigs to keep me afloat as I continue to become discouraged? No one's optimist 100% of the time, but it's becoming exhausting.

I feel like nothing new is happening where I am. Maybe I need a change. Sometimes the universe attracts a specific type of energy or type of people into my life - artists, musicians, travelers, etc. Lately I've come across a lot of travelers and I've been channeling my friends' thoughts. I've been thinking about Brazil which is crazy because I've never been interested in going there and know almost nothing about it. As it turns out, a good friend of mine is thinking of going there. Great... Can I even trust my own thoughts then? Or are they just echoes of the people around me? Do I really want to travel or am I just accessing their desires and thoughts? I used to consider intuition invasive for others I channel, but now I find it a rude interference against myself. What gives!

I feel so flaky when I complain that things aren't going well and then instead of setting my roots where I am, I begin ranting about traveling. But the world is so huge. It's tragic to stay idle for too long when you aren't feeling fulfilled and there aren't any reasons to stay. I love my friends, but I don't have anyone in my life, no children, no pets, no career, nothing that's tethering me to LA and life has become predictable, mundane, and unexciting. Traveling would be an invigorating, eye-opening, and breathtaking experience. Maybe I shouldn't feel so bad that I appear unattached and embrace my openness to travel.

I just wonder if this is just talk. After all, I have no money and no idea where I want to travel. How will I do it? What will I do once I'm there? Wherever that destiny may be. These are questions I need answered, but maybe they're worth exploring. I'm not the only person that's encountered these barriers. Do I really want to become one of those people who pose these questions, leaving them unanswered as I continue to endlessly float by? Even bad traveling experience will still offer me something new, and that's what I really want.

By the way it bothers me that it takes someone I'm intimate with for these things to be revealed to me. Why can't I have these insights independent of someone else? I'm not trying to chase after him. But I recognize a spark in him that exists within myself. Besides I'd be exploring a different part of the world in a different way anyways. Still though....

I've been thinking of reaching out to my friends who travel and I feel like when I really manifest the desire to explore these choices, I connect with them but only brief. It fizzles down almost as quickly as my vigor to explore the world. I don't understand. I'm independent, curious, and thirst to discover my surrounding. I love to feed myself with knowledge. New experiences invigorate me. I'm social and find myself readily able to connect to new environments better than most (locally though). I don't have attachments that tie me to one place because I've never been very close to my family.

So why am I so resistant about the idea of change? For someone who independent, I was fearful of painting my apartment by myself because I didn't want to fail at it. It's paint! If I make a mistake, I can always paint over it as my friend reminded me. Yet I was terrified to do it on my own. That sounds more dependent than independent. I like change and I don't need to be surrounded by my material possessions. So why am I so scared?

The Lesson Has Been Beaten into Me I Hope....

How many times have I whined adamantly that I never take the time to be happy and only post not so happy moments on here? I'm not afraid to reveal to the world that things aren't great, but I'm terrified to indicate any hint of something going well out of fear that it'll slip through my fingers. The problem with that logic is that both good and bad things will enter and exit my life. If I only give the negative stuff attention, that's what's going to resonate in me. So the next time something great happens, I'm going to try extra hard to express it and resist from retreating. We'll see how that turns out...

Embracing the New Chapter in my Life

So lately I've been feeling blue. Things aren't quite going the way I had expected in certain aspects of my life. I envisioned having my own place to be a liberating experience. Instead I get into a car accident, lose a friend, found myself slightly immobile, and I felt trapped in a box that looked like it was attacked by boxes. I didn't dwell on feeling discouraged, which is my first mistake because even when I ignore my feelings it always finds an outlet, another manifestation process. This time it was my immune system under attack. I could feel myself getting weaker and I was tired.

When a really good friend of mine who in all honesty sounded like crap made the time to check up on me in spite of the issues and pain going on in his life, it instantly changed something within me. I'm far from satisfied with my life but ignoring it because I don't want to pout about it doesn't work. If anything when I can't avoid it, it gushes out. The most difficult thing to change and the only thing I can change is my frame of thought. So that's what I've decided to do.

My old landlord is trying to evict me even though I don't live there anymore. It's totally a personal vendetta issue because I'm not there anymore and it costs her more money to take me to court. Just trust me on this. She's lost money because of me, I've exposed her husband as the sleaze he is, and it's fairly well known that he bordered on stalking me. But I haven't been served yet and perhaps it's unwise that I haven't gone to the court house to pick up some unidentified document. If the past is chasing me and I ignore it, it's still there. However, my choices remain that I can either interact with my past or not. I moved out to move forward. That's what I'm going to do.

I'm not doing this to run away but I trust that if this is something I can't escape, it'll eventually find me. All I know is that putting my effort and energy into the past right now has left me ill, and I don't want that. I'm embracing a new chapter in my life! Ever since I decided that last night, I've immediately felt my energy return to me. My appetite has returned and I feel like myself again. Oh and I was approved a day off to get this taken care of and the documents I needed weren't there. Maybe it was just carelessness but I took it as a sign because I felt invigorated and powerful when I discovered this as though the universe was juicing me with this sense that it gave me a gift. :)

Driven to the Edge of Desperation, Insanity, and Eventual Motivation, Day 246

After having a severe case of constipation, I found myself glued to the toilet as ants were lurking. All of a sudden I'm finding ants crawling around the toilet seat that I'm sitting on and climbing all over my legs. How bizarre and invasive is that? It's not like I had a jar of spilled sugar anywhere. So where did it come from and why was it even there?

The timing is mind blowing. The weather's been crazy hot lately and that's known to attract ants, but it's been feeling like Satan's breath for a while now. But of all the days for ants to be all over the toilet, it had to be that day! The one day when I was going to practically take residence there.....My friend who lives right next to me found the source where ants were entering - the garage!

I went to bed that night feeling sick. I found myself slapping my face paranoid that ants were crawling all over me but just around my face. I guess that should've been a sign that it was more than just paranoid and actuality. I just brushed it off as a negative reaction to the bathroom experience. I wake up the next morning to find that the perimeter of my bed was surrounded with a swirl of ants like a freaking marching band! Why would they be all over the place and selectively around the perimeter of my bed??? What, did I smear honey all over my fingers and rub the corners of my bed thoroughly? It makes no sense!

It led me to chuck everything! I gave my bed to a friend who loves the generic tempur pedic mattress my ex gifted me after we had broken up. Two years after we broke up and practically playing Cupid for me and the next guy who also had a bromance with my ex, he bought me a mattress because he had a bad feeling that I would hurt myself on my breaking air mattress. It was such a sweet and generous gesture. It's like the ex gave it to me to encourage fucking the next guy. It didn't work out with him and then there was another guy. So this mattress has a lot of odd associations and unique history of my past.

I wasn't repulsed by it. But at that point, it made me realize how used up it's been and I was gravitating towards change, birth, reinvention, starting over, freshness. My mattress didn't represent any of that. It's a story of my past and it carries memories between the pores of the mattress. And now it was laced with filthy ants.

My bed platform is also a unique story and representation of my past, my friends, my persistence, the support my friends provide me with and the effort they put in for me, their dedication, their selflessness, their contribution, an undying strength, an accumulation of experiences that can be referenced. It's symbolic of so much. It's a crappy, aging IKEA piece. Some of the parts have fallen off, broken apart, and it's been replaced and repaired with real wooden pieces and even handmade metal parts substituted in place of wood. One corner piece I snatched from a UCLA dorm when a guy was chucking his bed which was the same model as mine.

I held onto it for so long for so many reasons. I'm cheap. I became attached to it. It was more convenient to keep it than replace it. My friends put so much effort in supporting my irrational decision. They put time and blood into it that they didn't have to for me.

But at that moment everything changed. All of these sentiments and attachments existed, but I was no longer clinging to them. I was ready to let go of the the material possessions that represent my past so that I can move forward. I tore apart my bed and attacked it as a coping mechanism to my roommate returning after an unforgivable and defining betrayal which was also an attack against my past.

I didn't know it at the time I was removing a pivotal furniture piece from a miscellaneous living room area that I carved into a comfortable spot that it would aid in my transition towards a new change, a new path, the direction I need to pursue for a better future. By seeing the vacancy in my space giving a sparse, uncomfortable, less homey look, it gave this non-permanent feeling like I'm between spaces and I have to fulfill the void and complete the unfinished task of going forward in my life. All of this happened by getting rid of my comfortable, affordable bed.

I had to be driven to the edge of desperation and insanity to reach the motivation I need to not be stagnant.

Kicked Down to Fail and Even More Driven to Succeed, Playing Catch Up to Day 183

Sometimes I feel like I'm not meant to be helped. This is an outdated entry. I no longer feel the intensity of anger, frustration, and exclusion I did when I first had this experiece, but I do want a record of it because this blog is more than just expressing myself; it's become a reflection of my life and what I go through. I want to remember these kinds of experiences even if my perspective on it has altered because our past builds our future. What we choose to take from our past is what defines it.

Being unemployed was a full-time job. Everyone talks about not being able to find work, but many of them don't try very hard to obtain it, either. I don't consider sitting on your ass and craigslisting to qualify as actively seeking employment. I've done so many of what's been suggested by experts - going to job fairs, career centers, employment agencies, cold calling, dropping off resumes at corporate buildings, using past resources, and faxing resumes to companies in the yellow pages, etc.

I was so frustrated because I put so much effort and energy into finding a job, and my results reflected someone who didn't put effort. It made me wonder why I even try. But I'd rather fail knowing I did everything I possibly could than just give up. I'm not afraid of failure. I'm afraid of weakness. Giving up is a form of weakness, and I can't bare that on my conscious.

What I dislike about our government is that there are more services available than most people are aware of, but you have to be in such a horrible condition before even being eligible to receive services. I'd rather do it on my own anyways, but I feel like even when I'm entitled to it, something always happens so I'm left only able to rely on myself. In a way I appreciate it. Being forced to rely on no one but myself has made me stronger, but I hate feeling rejected. Why am I always the one left out?

I was told that I could be eligible for employment placement services, bus tokens, professional work clothes, and computer lessons. I found a job before they did, so that stunted my eligibility. I had to wait three weeks before I got paid and I was running out of bus money. I began buying my friends food through my EBT card in exchange for cash. I got clothes and all of these freebies, which is great but there was this huge block against what I truly needed to be self-sufficient - BUS TOKENS & computer lessons.

I want to take computer lessons to increase my future employment opportunities. Of course, it took them so long to return my call that by the time I was offered these complimentary courses, I began work so I was unable to attend those classes. Even worse, twice I was unable to make it to my scheduled appointment. Work kept me hostage for longer than anticipated. That was disappointing, but I'm okay with being late for a meeting that could potentially offer me freebie when my time is being spent so that I can be independent.

What really made me livid was when two buses failed to arrive at their scheduled time (almost two hours late) and the bus was beyond crowded. I was being pushed and there was no room whatsoever and some ghetto bitch started talking crap to me because I accidentally stepped on her foot. Did I mean to? Of course not, and I might've considered apologizing except she was such a bitch that my apology would've been insincere. So why bother faking it?

She knew it was crowded. She just wanted to talk crap and start shit with me. People were sucking in their fat and sitting on top of each other just to make room, and yet there was enough space for this fucked up person to continually and maliciously kick me. What was I supposed to do? Start swinging in that crunched up space? I don't want to throw down and stoop to her level. Plus the other passengers wouldn't deserve it. But imagine the position it put me in and how it made me feel. On top of that she was so sweet and considerate to this elderly woman that I would've come off being the crazy and unreasonable one. The last thing I want to do is make her feel validated in any way shape or form.

All I wanted was a stupid break, for someone to say let me help you to make your life just a little bit easier so you don't have to walk miles away from where you live and leave 2 hours early just to arrive to work even though you can do it because we're here to help only for the universe to put all of these road blocks against me. Not only did I wait so long and then get kicked literally, but I got a call from the woman who's supposed to assist me with an attitude for my delay. To be frustrated because I couldn't make an appointment is acceptable except for the fact that it took her a year to return my call! Constant emails, phone calls, visiting the building, and then eventually cold-calling to see who they're affiliated with and then using that resource of going through the food bank just to get a fucking phone call after developing a relationship with two people who work there and she has the audacity to give me attitude? I worked so hard just to set up an appointment with her.

I was pissed. I was way more disappointed than she could possibly understand. I was waking up at 4 am just to make it to work at 7. I was having a difficult time understanding the program used for work. It was my second attempt at meeting her. It was even a challenge getting on the bus. Then some bitch was kicking me in the fucking leg! All because I worked my ass off to meet her. It took so much effort as though the universe didn't want me to receive these types of services and why not? I'm eligible. That's what these services are for, people like me. So why does it feel like virtually everything was opposing this?

I spent the very little $ I had left on taking the bus there, which meant I'd walk for hours the next morning. I can't afford to walk and not make it to this meeting is what I thought. What a waste of money, time, and effort! Why did I invest so much energy into an external resource? Hasn't my life taught me anything? These things never work out for me. Just because it's available doesn't mean I should exploit it, but am I really exploiting it?

I can go on and on about how frustrating it is, but at the end of the day, the reality is that I feel like I'm kicked down to fail and it leaves me even more driven to succeed because I'll be damned if I let someone or something keep me down. FUCK THE BULLSHIT!!! I got better things to do than trip off of why I keep getting road blocks that many others manage to evade because no one else is going to buffer my fall or help me up. So what am I going to do but get back up again? People think it takes strength to stand back up, but I'm not strong enough to stay down is how I see it. I feel like I'll malfunction if I don't get back up. It's the only choice for me.

My Desire for This is Stronger Than my Need for It, Day 165

After months of being unemployed which became a full-time job of hitting job fairs, career centers, employment agencies, cold calling, temp positions, scrimping by, and killing myself in the process, I was offered the same position I was offered last year at around the same time. Had I have taken that job last year, I would've been financially-secure and better off as far as my living situation and life stability goes in the conventional sense. Maybe even in the literal sense. But actions have consequences.

For such a long time, I kicked myself for selecting a job that was less lucrative, had signs of financial insecurity, evidence of conflict, and many other things that really trapped me to stay there for all of the wrong reasons, forcing me into a lifestyle that's unfavorable. But after some long reflection, I realized that sometimes the right outcome is born through a series of wrong decisions. I now appreciate the experiences I gained from that job because I grew and evolved as a person. I never considered myself a bad person, but that job turned me into a more caring, compassionate, empathetic, and deeper person than I realized I could ever be. It made me a better person through those pains and struggles.

I also met some amazing people along the way. They've touched my life in ways they'll never know. I'm glad to have met them and truly believe that if it weren't for my previous job that I would've never really developed the relationship I now have with each and every one of them. The experiences are irreplaceable and life changing. The financial hardship defined and strengthened me as a person even as it weakened me. And it's not like I lost out on that other job offer. I just accepted it a year later.

I find it symbolic that I'm at the exact place I could've been last year at this time. I keep bringing it up and I'll continue to because it's so meaningful to me. Apparently there was a class in March, but I wasn't offered that program. Now I'm in a training program with a bunch of amazing people, and I can't stress enough how much I appreciate them. That'll be an entry called "My New Loves." Those words came from a friend at work. It's interesting. On facebook, so many of them put a deep and meaningful status update on the same day. We all have lives outside of work, but I noticed that many of us carried a similar significance in our lives. I mentioned that to someone at work. She said she's not surprised and that she doesn't think it's a coincidence that we all came together at the same time. I totally agree with her.

This job couldn't have come at a better time. I've already been late on two months' worth of rent. I was getting desperate. I need this job because I can't afford to get evicted. No one really can. I was resorting to cash exchanges with my food stamps. I'd buy food for my friends and they'd give me cash for it. I ran out of toilet paper and have to go to Burger King whenever I needed to use the bathroom. It's not a way to live.

If I do well, this job is financially-secure. It's at a convenient location. It'll give me an opportunity to move out and live somewhere that's more conducive to my self-growth and emotional maturity, as well as offering me safety benefits. Where I live now, my roommate's car got broken into. There have been incidences where homeless people have squatted under the stairwell. Bikes get stolen. A neighbor stalked my roommate until she decided to move out and this same guy nearly attacked me because I was associated to his old roommate. A girl who lives in the same complex and doesn't get along with others might be moving in here. She's also the same girl that almost stabbed her boyfriend. The landlord is manipulative, hostile, and borders on stalking. Yet I live here.

And that's just the objective reasons why I should move out. It doesn't even include the burdensome reasons that come with roommate situations. For almost a season now, the dishes have stacked up completely. It requires me to offer time I don't have just to wash an apple in the kitchen sink. Cooking becomes a near impossible mission.

Selfishness is masqueraded and manipulated into a way that's meant to stabilize my own self-interest, as though my desires are unreasonable through an illusion of higher maturity that doesn't exist. If I have to move your clutter around to make space, I will. And I do it in a way that keeps the kitchen functional. Sure, it exposes to the outside that we're filthy but I've exercised the best possible option. I'm not going to put the clutter back to make it more difficult for myself in the future. If you're so ashamed of the mess, do something about it just like I do with my own. Their approach is acceptable for someone who just moved out and are trying to cope with their messiness. I'm past that, though.

I need something more than that. And as small as it may seem, I feel that I need to be at a place where I can grow my own plants. I can't do that here. The fact that I can't makes me feel suffocated. To change my circumstance, I need financial security and stability.

This job is structured and organized, a welcome change. There are tests daily. I'm noticeably behind in absorbing and retaining the knowledge taught. I seem to be trapped in this permanent state of confusion, and I'm constantly stressed that I'll be eliminated as a candidate. I heard this is the first training where no one was eliminated the first week.

If I don't make it, I still owe money. I could get a legal eviction notice on my record that'll further damage my future. I'll return to using public restrooms and schedule my liquid consumption according to business hours, such an unhealthy, unhealthy lifestyle adjustment. I'll continue to be stuck in paralysis mode and be unable to not only move forward in the future, but I'll be dragged back, as well.

Obviously that's horrible. But I've gotten used to living, surviving, adapting, and accepting of a life that's abstract at best. I discovered that as frightening as it may be at times that I'm able to overcome my fears. I discovered that as near impossible as it seems that living next to impossible is still possible, and I can do it well.

The one thing I've always struggled with is validation. I need it. I seem to care less about the general opinions people have of me. And the truth is that most people do validate and accept me. It's something I haven't given myself, though. I live, breathe and see my inadequacies. I'm intimate with them. It leads me to believe that I don't deserve acceptance, but I'm finally beginning to open up those doors.

Somehow I turned this job into a test that defines whether I truly deserve to step into that room that says, "You're good enough. You deserve to be at a higher standard than you put yourself at. You're no longer the one with the inadequacies. You belong with your friends where you place them where they deserve to be placed at." I know that isn't healthy, but that's still how I feel. So my desire to do well at this job is stronger than my need for it.

The Significance of An Experience is Defined by the Value We Give It,

The significance of an experience is defined by the value we give it. Something happened to me, and I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around it. How do I put into words what happened? Where do I begin? How do I do this?

I've always been a spiritual person, but I've only recently started to really explore it when that side of me surfaced in an undeniable sort of way. Not everyone has the beliefs I have and I respect that, but I believe what I know. My experiences define reality for me, as it does yours. I get premonitions.

Since then I've attracted a lot of spiritually-connected people, and I'm grateful to have met them. But it's inevitable to meet someone dark lurking in the shadows waiting to exploit others for whatever reason. And I was victim to one of them. God, I hate admitting that because I feel like I'm trying to absolve responsibility and I'm not. But no matter how much something irritates me to admit, it doesn't take away from reality.

That's why I decided to blog about this. It's such a personal, private, invasive, disgusting experience, and part of me wants to just forget about it. I'm so skilled at pushing thoughts, feelings, and experiences in the back of my mind. But it stays with me and builds on me. I created this blog to learn to be more open. I worry that if I ignore this and the next time something like this happens in a completely different setting that I'd snap and I don't want that. If I've learned anything in the past couple of years, it's that you can't ignore your feelings. No matter how much you hate the experience, what happened, what you did and didn't do, what happened happened.

I went to the beach with a friend and her friend wanted to come along. The first time I've ever heard her talk about him, I got a weird feeling. But I brushed it off since I didn't sense any danger and it was totally judgmental of me. When he wanted to join us, I had a WTF sort of feeling. But I ignored it that, too.

My friend and I began talking about the emotional and spiritual impact that the beach has on a person's soul and how different places possess different spiritual properties that restores, rejuvenates, and invigorates us in a way as uniquely as the elements that represent them. When my friend's friend, the dark "spiritualist" returned (because he went back to his apartment twice - first to get us a blanket and second time to park my friend's car in a different spot), he joined the existing conversation. It felt natural to talk about meditation, spiritual powers, premonitions, the energies that exist in all of us, etc. He asked if he could read my energy by taking my hand.

I let him. His hands sandwiched mine. I tried to be as open as possible, but I warned him that I've become detached lately. Within seconds, I felt a transference of energy leave me. It was slight, mild, brief, but I imagined seeing it. It felt more pulled away from me than I released it, but I also know that I gave it to him. Shortly after he said that my powers come from my past, and he offered to open up my chakra and explore the energies within me.

I've always been fairly open to that stuff, but I did question his level of power at one point because he wanted my friend's participation. He asked her to close her eyes, put her hand on my head, and think of the most highest power and direct it towards me. It seemed fine at the time. I was cold, so I covered myself in the blanket. I also put on my sunglasses to protect my eyes from the sand. He began to place his hands over my body. It began with his hand around my belly button area and he started pressing around it, which reminded me of a pap smear.

I thought it was odd but I'm new to this. Now I feel incredibly stupid because this creeper probably exploits the unawareness of girls to further his agenda. And I fell for it! I never thought I'd become one of those girls who just takes it out of uncertainty. I always thought to myelf, "How do you not know?" I guess ignorance is an easier practice than awareness.

He continued to do this under my clothing. I had a top on and a bathing suit underneath. I distinctly remember him traveling his hand to my left boob through the inner top of my bikini instead of from slipping his hand from the bottom of the bikini. I opened my eyes for a second because I questioned that action only to see his eyes open and focused, rather than sexually pleased. His hands were cupping my boob so closely that I felt his hand resting on my nipple. There was no fonding, no squeezing, just physical contact. When I asked myself if this is okay, a spiritualist I met at a crystal house responded, "No, it's not."

Out of everyone there, I could sense and feel her powers. I was drawn to her. It was concentrated. When she sits there and observes, it's just such an infusion of controlled strength. When she talks to people, the energy subdues. It isn't this captivating sense but turns into this open and receptive energy surrounded by a sense of tangibility like you can reach her or at least see her. She isn't a million miles away like she seems when she's sitting there silently or at least that's the way it was for me.

So it was incredible that I could feel her presence there with me when she wasn't but she was. Before I could make sense of any of it, the dark spiritualist had already slipped his hand to my other boob. It all happened so quickly that I'm not even sure what part of my bikini area he slipped his hand through. It's like when I returned, his hand was already placed there.

I'm beginning to realize both the burden and dangers of over-thinking because I'm not focused, not focused on how I feel. My head's too busy spinning. My first thought was, "What the fuck?" That should've been enough to make him stop, but I proceeded into my analytical nature by asking is this okay, how do you know if it is, remembering that I've never had this done before, so I'm not aware of the etiquettes, etc. All these questions overwhelmed me and distracted me from what should've been done. My mind may have been confused but my spirit wasn't because I kept telling myself to not freak out. I still don't know how to control my power, so keep myself in check. You don't want to release something you can't control; you don't want to release something you can't control. Then it ended there.

He seemed collected enough but also disturbed by what he "saw." I question his honesty and integrity, but intuitively I believe that he was genuinely freaked out. As well he should! Was it something he could've faked? Absolutely. It's a perfect profile move to make and I don't doubt that a person like that would do such a thing, but I truly believe that he was frightened spiritually.

It was damp on the bridge of his nose on the right side. Where did that miscellaneous liquid come from? He was characteristically disturbed and said that I was murdered in my past life. I had no reaction. No fear, no intrigue, no shock, no curiosity, an absence of anything. How unlike me and this wasn't because I was still shocked. That was my reaction to his claim.

He began elaborating that I was a man in my past life, that I was interested in Buddhism, I wasn't a practicing monk but many of my friends were and that I was drawn to it, the source of my dark powers come from others, that the dark karma in me isn't my own but was put there, I resisted for a long time but eventually it became a part of me, and I was spiritually murdered by those who were jealous of my powers. He said that I was a good person in my past life.

There may be elements of truths to that because con artists twist the truth. They manipulate it to their advantage. They turn truths into their allies. I do believe that I have some dark karma carried over from my past life because unbelievable things keep happening to me in unimaginable ways. I believe I have a strong source of power, and I fear that it comes from a dark place. Others have sensed this from me, as well. But I'm skeptical about what he told me in particular. For one thing, I wasn't very open.

He was shivering and shaking from that experience. He claimed it's because he's really cold, but he broke through something and that we can continue it at his apartment. Now, I'm a lot more level-headed. My friend has intuitive powers, too, whether she's aware of it or not. Or maybe she was channeling me. I don't know, but it was her that was advocating on my behalf when I was still in a speechless state of shock.

What a bastard! First he says the ocean has good energy, which it does. He lives across the fucking street from the ocean and claims that he doesn't need a jacket. Then after exploring my chakras he's shaking because he's cold and suggests continuing in his apartment. Are you shitting me? Like you can't measure the temperature and plan accordingly, you jack ass! But I felt that it was more than the cold. He felt my power.

By then I knew I was more powerful than he is. He probably got terrified by it. And good! I'm glad he got freaked out. Karma, bitch! You do something bad. And you feel bad. He left to get his jacket, while my friend and I stayed behind. As he walked away, I came close to my friend and asked her if he ever did that to her. He kept looking back nervously. Now why would someone do such a thing? I wonder...

My friend agreed that it wasn't appropriate, that it's totally invasive and if he were going to do that that I should've been warned. I totally agree. I was demonstrating what he was doing to me by grabbing at her boobs. For a while we were having that conversation and she wasn't aware that he went under my clothing and bikini! She was shocked. She already knew it was unacceptable before I explained it clearly enough. And of course it fucking is! How could I have been so stupid????

What the Hell is honestly wrong with me? The fact that I kept telling myself to stay grounded, to not release the dark energy in me, that wasn't enough to tip me off? Really, really? When did I become so fucking special ed? When did I become a participating victim offering implied consent?

Don't get me wrong. This guy's a jerk. I'm by no means trying to transfer blame on myself to minimize his. But I do believe that we train how others treat us. They'll do whatever they want, but to deny that we don't have an influence is naive. I didn't say or do anything that expressed disapproval or address how completely unacceptable that is. He deserved to know, and I kept it from him.

It's crazy to think that, in reality, I was sexually harassed and it qualifies as being molested. But it wasn't an extreme form. I wasn't traumatized by it. I know it happened, though, because I was there. And yet I didn't react in a way I would've suspected someone to react, so I wouldn't blame someone for doubting me. Something fucked up happened to me and I end up feeling guilty because of my own actions or lack of. I'm left feeling inadequate more than invaded. This isn't something I should even be burdened to feel.

The old me would've ripped him to shreds. I'm small, but don't think for a second that I can't do any damage. I made a guy piss blood for a week after he crossed the line with me and I saw him telling a girl to sit on his lap right in front of me (boyfriend at the time). Oh and I dislocated his nose. And I've done way worse. If I let the old me out, this guy would've had a distinct deep scar on his cheek that people can't ignore left as a reminder of what he did to me. I would've easily injured him in the knees.

If a person has a scar on their face and walks awkwardly, people easily become suspicious. Now I keep thinking to myself, how many other girls will he continue to do this to because I haven't done my part to discourage him? I doubt this was his first time and considering how he got away with it, it won't be his last. But if I were to give him the benefit of the doubt and say this was his first time, what's to stop him from doing it again? He developed no social conditioning against it. If I had fucked him up, he'd think twice before doing it again. He'd wake up to that experience every morning when he looked at himself. That's what should've been done.

I don't have a problem with violence. I believe it serves a purpose in society. It's misused, abused, and resorted to too recklessly, but I'm not against the existence or selective practice of it. This would've been a good example of that.

You could judge me all you want and think until you turn blue that I was stupid for not reacting. I feel that I deserve that reaction. But it makes me so livid that people like him exist and puts people in those types of situations. The truth is that if he was going to do something like that, you should warn someone AND get permission. If you didn't ask permission because you felt uncomfortable, you shouldn't do it! He's a creep, but he's by no means stupid. He's socially aware that it's taboo.

I was invaded and question the seriousness and degree of that experience because my reaction wasn't the classic victimized one. I feel inadequate over my ability to process experiences. I felt guilty for indulging in who I am because it left me vulnerable. I feel like crap for being so ignorant and lacking in common sense. Then I feel bad because I've invested more energy in making myself feel worse, as if he hasn't already done that only to realize that I've neglected to channel hatred towards him. It's exhausting!

My friend believed me, but she was still shocked by what happened. She was both surprised and impressed that I intuitively disliked him from the beginning. She kept asking over and over and over why he would do something like that, while simultaneously mourning for the death of their friendship because she enjoys the spiritual conversations she had with me. And she wonders why he didn't do that to her because he had plenty of opportunities. Can you make it more about you? I don't want to be burdened with her excess thoughts, too, but it just came out of her like word vomit. The most intolerable thing for me was how she kept expressing guilt for introducing me to him because she felt like she shared the blame. That really aggravated me because I don't blame her for this, but the more she said it, the more hostility I felt toward her because by repeating it, it's like she's ignoring me. Doing that to someone can be a form of disrespect and I already experienced enough of that that day.

Don't get me wrong. I know she didn't mean to. But I was already feeling the pressure. That's how I felt and what was going through my mind. I'm not even sure how I was supposed to feel. How can I possibly give her some or any sense of closure? I don't have the resources, knowledge, or energy to. And at the time, I didn't have the desire to, either.

Since I can be a dark and perverse person, I can understand why someone would do something like that. There's thrill in getting away with something. And while it was happening, I realized the genius behind his plan. Yes, I honestly thought this and I still didn't do anything. I guess I thought if it wasn't sexual, then it's not invasive. But it's also unnecessary and a form of respect to not do stuff like that! How did that thought not click in my mind?

It makes perfect sense to do exactly that. Maybe a sexually stimulating opportunity like that hadn't presented itself around my friend. Maybe she's not his type. Who knows? Who cares? I didn't want to over analyze anymore because it was that that made me miss such an obvious truth, that what he did was unacceptable.

We parted ways and hung out with another friend. Him, I love and I was so happy to see him because it was his presence that made that day a good day. If it wasn't for him, the entire day would've been terrible. We were just at his place hanging out and having a good time.

It's kind of nuts how something like that can happen and then I can turn around and enjoy the rest of my day, as though nothing happened. There's danger in that. I have so many psychological pockets of escape where dark thoughts hide until it breeds and mutates into something else. By then, it's hard to tell where it came from, what it was born out of it, or that it's even there. But you know what? I realized instead of tripping about how I feel about something, how I don't feel about something, this is what came to me. This is my quote: "The significance of an experience is defined by the value we give it."

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF AN EXPERIENCE IS DEFINED BY THE VALUE WE GIVE IT.

I'm glad and proud of myself for not allowing the earlier day's experience to tarnish the evening. I FINALLY have a phone! It was brought to my attention a while back that all of my ringtones are suggestive. Background story: This guy I was going out with made me come to this realization. At first, I was in denial and resisted it until I embraced it. We were lying in bed snuggling, talking, and maybe there was a kiss or two involved. It was definitely romantic and intimate, but it wasn't sexually heating up yet when all of a sudden I get a call with a ringtone "I'm a prisoner of love, prisoner of love!!!" I jumped out of bed with a sigh of "finally!" He asked me who the fuck is that? My other friend's ringtone is Savage Garden's Crash 'n Burn. He grins at me and says, "you know all of your ringtones are suggestive, right?" Well to this day, I carry that theme. Continuation and return to original point: I told my friends that I need suggestive ringtones.

One of them is a foreigner, so she didn't understand the connotation of "suggestive." We spent a better duration of the evening making suggestive jokes. It was pretty hilarious, but is it weird that I can be so lighthearted after such an experience? Am I in that much of a denial phase? Did I just suppress it? Am I that desensitized? Does it really bother me? If it does, then how come I was able to function as though nothing happened? Am I that broken? Did it not bother me because it meant nothing to me? That's just as twisted. I can go on forever about why I reacted the way I did, but it is what it is.

I talked to a friend about it, and he opened up to me about his own experiences, things I wouldn't dare elaborate on. But there's one thing he said that gave me comfort. He didn't know it was wrong. It didn't feel wrong to him. It felt weird but not wrong. Sometimes you just don't know. And there are people in this world who take advantage of that.

It's a tragic reality. They take something away from us when that happens. I left feeling confused, conflicted, inadequate, stupid, and I consciously carried it over with me. I told a co-worker about my experience at the beach, but I distorted the truth. What was I supposed to say to someone I've known for like a fucking week? That some jerk felt me up and I laid there like an idiot?

I don't want to title myself the moron, and it's not something he'd want to hear. But it bothers me that I felt the need to lie. I lied because I have a problem with the truth, with reality. And if that's the case, I shoud've said something. I should've done something. I can't control the actions others, but I could control my own. That's something I have to remember.

He's not the only person I lied to, either. I guess this blog is like my form of confession. I'm releasing it because I'm hoping it'll heal me. But in all honestly, it doesn't hurt knowing that one friend doesn't read my blog. He complains about how long it is. Yet he reads like 400-500 page novels! Maybe he does read my blog. It's a beautiful lie I sometimes like to indulge in.

I feel so stupid. A couple days before all of this happened, he was showing me some jiu jitsu moves. The truth is that I could've really damaged this guy, but I didn't let myself realize what was really happening or I'm just that dense. I'm still not really sure. I'm not ready to tell him the truth. Maybe I never will be, but I certainly feel bad about lying, not enough to confess directly, though. So this is all I have to offer. If by any chance you're reading this, thank you for providing me with the knowledge I could've used. It's crazy how I learned those moves at a point in my life before I could've used them. I do believe that everything happens for a reason, but I also believe that we don't always take advantage of it.

As for my co-worker, he doesn't even know about the existence of this blog unless he read my facebook profile and observed the link to this blog but few people do. It's interesting how many people are unaware of my blog. After mutual friends and acquaintances complimented me on my blog around a closer friend of mine, I realized how many people don't read it and how much I'd like them to. So I sent out what seems like an impersonal mass email, but it's 100% genuine. It shares some insights and depths into why I blog and why I chose a select group of people to share it with for reasons that aren't as tangible but an intuitive desire.

I appreciated the outcome of that decision, so I decided to every so often send that email out whenever I meet people I'd like to share my thoughts with. I met some amazing people at work that I plan to send that mass email out to. If you do take the time to read my blog, please know that I chose you because you have made a bigger impact in my life than you realize. Writing to me is an intimate practice, and it means the world to me.