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.

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.

Cleansing My Toxic Oasis

A part of me loves this title because I find it to be beautiful and intriguing. But it's also tragic that it exists. Then again my awareness of it is a testament to my emotional receptivity and spiritual awakening. The past couple of weeks I've felt lethargic, unmotivated, and lost my sense of time. 1 hour can feel like a mere 20 minutes. When I look at the space around me, it's not in such disarray that all function seizes to exist. But I can see undeniable signs that contribute to my unproductivity. My bed platform resembles a raft board without a mattress and it's become a catch all for clutter. It's sectioned off but it's still disorganized. I realized that a plant I relocated so it can be exposed to the sun was contributing to my mood and behavior because while the plant needs sun to be rejuvenated, in its current decaying state, it's contaminating my energy. I moved it today and already I feel a burst of life in me return. I'm at the library now. I rushed just so I can use the internet and post this. I won't have time to edit it because I arrived less than 30 minutes before closing. But I'm just grateful that I got here. I've been forfeiting any productive attempts because by the time I'm willing to do it, I won't have enough time. Well I feel better starting and not completing them than doing absolutely nothing. I have to go now to return my library books before they close cuz I think removing clutter is definitely going to lift the energy. I also received a few texts and I'm intuitively sensing an aversion to it. I wonder if my feelings will correlate once I read it. If it's what I suspect it to be, it'll ultimately be healthier in the long run. I encourage everyone to take the time and make even minor changes towards improving the energy around you.

Trying to Snap the Uninspiration Out of Me

I know "uninspiration" isn't a real word but it's a real feeling. Writing has always come naturally from me. But lately I've been feeling dangerously unmotivated and a ton of other adjectives I resisted from posting on fb, not out of discretion but out of my own fear that these feelings I wish didn' exist would become more real. Then I realized that these feelings that are leading to a sense of indifference in my own life are more real than what can be seen or touched; it's becoming a part of me and I want to change that. So I thought it best to just start writing even if I have no major epiphany or deep insight to offer.

In the back of my mind I'm aware that people are reading this or I hope so, and that affects my writing but I stopped doing it for an audience a long time ago but the bad habits that restricted me still linger. They just manifest during different moments of struggles. I used to hesitate writing when I felt that it wasn't good enough for the readers, not because your time was important to me but because I couldn't stand the idea of someone hating my entry. Now I don't give a fuck!

And that's great because I write for myself now. But when I don't consciously feel like I have nothing of value to express, write, or read myself, I forfeit the attempt altogether and that's detrimental to my self-growth because our subconscious minds understand far more than our conscious minds. So I shouldn't be afraid to write just because I feel I have nothing to say. How much information am I holding back from myself? This place is my sanctuary. I shouldn't only visit it when I'm on the run. What a symptom management oriented approach.

Imbalance has always been a struggle of mine, but I didn't become aware of it until recently. I used to be overfilled with poison and my body was so polluted in this state that I never knew what it was to be free of it. So I never recognized the damages. When something becomes a part of you, even if it's something horrible, trying to separate from it is one of the most painful experiences you can ever go through. I was bludgeoned and beaten. Because so much of me was infused in this poison, a part of me was extracted during the separation process. So I had to rebuild a new me. I wish it wouldn't have taken such an extreme and necessary force to snap me out of it, but I'm grateful for the results and who it shaped me into.

Once I recognized the damage it was doing to me, my body naturally tried to expel and reject the poison surrounding me. I've gotten receptive to keeping those things at a distance but what I failed to realize is that now I'm an empty vessel. I'm no longer filled with poison, but I have to be filled with something. I should be nourished, but I'm not used to feeding myself anything. I'm used to crap just being crammed into me that I have left myself spiritually malnourished and that's why I've been feeling uninspired and indifferent. I have to be filled with something whether it's negative or positive. An absence of either is still a form of imbalance. Negativity inspired me to not be the failure I was suspected to become. Without such discouragement to fight against, I became blind to the fact that I was failing myself.

As I found myself becoming dangerously unmotivated about the fact that I have no job and could get evicted if I can't make rent and slowly digressing into a state of indifference about it, I started becoming detached. I memorize phone numbers. I don't rely on my cell phone to be my memory, but I forgot so many of my friends phone numbers and it's not because I'm becoming 27 in 7 days that in the past month I began forgetting phone numbers I've known for well over at least six months, if not years. It's because I began detaching in general with myself, the people around me, and with reality.

I've been going to sleep early. I'm tired throughout the day. I'm unmotivated. I'm losing touch with people. My diet isn't what it was. I'm stagnant. I'm beginning to develop the symptoms that constitute depression. Don't get me wrong. I don't think I'm depressed, but it's frightening to think that I'm not too sure how I feel because feelings are starting to become absent in me and these symptoms are so close to what depressed people do experience.

But here's something new. Throughout all of this indifference as the lack of employment is about ready to swallow my life hole and shit out nothing but crap, the only thing that's managed to make me feel anything is empathy. When my friends got sick. When my friend started developing breathing difficulties. When my friend expressed sadness about Valentine's coming up. When a friend I hadn't spoken to in a while confided in me that she's been seeing a counselor and battling depression, that's when it hit me.

It was at that moment I realized I'm not far from that path but without having talking to her, I may not have known because I've been so emotionally detached until it was too late. People, even new people in my life, just naturally open up to me and sometimes it trips them out that they do and feel they can share so much with me and I love it. I realized that when I help others, I help myself. Altruism.

Not having a job. Being bored. Uninspired to write, the one constant in my life that I felt I needed and without it, I believed I'd fall apart. Feeling helpless. Feeling unwanted and worthless in society. Forgotten. At the brink of losing my apartment and losing all of my beautiful pretty things. The freedom I've come to enjoy and recently acquired was at risk of being snatched away from me and all of this left me apathetic. I've been homeless before. I know how difficult it is to not have a roof over my head, so it isn't like I'm just not properly frightened that's keeping me from caring. And yet what made my heart turn was another person in pain.

Small but significant moments like these have been making me feel like lately I've been wanting to go into an altruistic field. I've contemplated counseling but also something more expansive like a charity organization. I want to be part of the team that makes the changes happen. I don't want to just push the paperwork. I have to know and see that my actions, whatever they are, are helping people in need. I want to talk directly with people who are struggling and both feel and see their progress. I have to sense and know that my contributions are making a difference. With some things, I need more than faith; I need evidence.

I'm not sure what this means but I plan to find out. This isn't at all the entry I had in mind. I've had some powerful experiences. I missed one job fair, so I went to a recent one that was pretty incredible. It gave me hope and left me with some sense of wisdom I wanted to express, but that moment has passed. While the experience resonates in me, I'm no longer compelled to express it the way I desired when it first happened.

It's tragic but I have to accept that moments pass, one of the most difficult realities to grasp in life. Lately I've been wondering what I'd do with my life if I didn't want to write as though I'd have to find the answer to that question, but I've been too afraid to face it. Now with each growing day of indifference and the only thing that's able to spark me is empathy, I think I need to stop feeling selfish for wanting to help people cuz it helps me and just be a part of the conducive process.

I can no longer be the way I am now. I feel like I failed my friends. One friend who always came to me when he struggled said he doesn't want to burden me with his problems because he knows what sadness does to me. It wasn't always that way because I wasn't always that way. And I know he's struggling. He knows I'll sense it from him, so he's staying away. I don't want that from my friends. I can understand why he does that, but it's also hurtful to feel like he wants to detach himself from me. That's not what friendship is about. Well it is from his perspective and I'd do the exact same thing if I were in his situation, but I'm in my mine and this is how I feel.

The scary thing about being indifferent and detached is that I don't know what's going on or that this is even happening. I'm at risk of becoming who I was before and I don't want that. I still feel like premonitions plague me, but it's also a sign that I'm connected, connected to myself, connected to the universe, connected to my friends, connected to feelings, connected to what makes me human. I didn't even realize it was missing and I channeled the very little emotional energy I did have on worrying about my friends who were visibly in trouble, but the ones that really need help are the ones who are silently suffering and that's what I became blind to.

They're the ones who are lost like I am and often times unaware of what they're going through. They never ask for help. You have to be one of them to recognize them. Blind leading the blind is often mocked and trashed, but the ones who know where they are don't know where to find where the lost people are, nor will they recognize them. So many of us put on fake smiles, go out into the world appearing not at a lost or confused and severely struggling the way we are, and people buy into our ability to put our problems behind curtains. When I lose myself, I lose the ability to help others.

As it turns out, writing is a smaller priority than part of me wishes it were. I wanted to become a writer when I was a child because I wanted to be heard. I thought it was the only way people would pay attention to me. Then as I became older I wanted to become a writer, so I wouldn't be forgotten. I didn't want children. That was sincere then. I feared that without a legacy I'd be erased from history and I thought having my name printed would be my mark in the world, but that was the detached me talking. Now I realize that to truly be remembered, you have to make an impact in peoples' lives. Authors are forgotten all the time. A record isn't a memory. I want to be remembered and with significance. I believe I will be because I can feel what I have done for my friends, and it isn't always through my writing. I want to be remembered and I'm realizing that being a writer isn't the best way to achieve that. Plus I wanted to become a journalist to help people. Then when I lost my desire to become a journalist but clung onto writing, I've been sort of aimlessly floating.

I can't continue to deny how I feel or . I wanted to be a writer and maybe I still can be, but that only appeals to a smaller side of me as I continue to grow and evolve. My self growth and embracing who I am has led me to my premonitions. It leaves me more connected to others than some. I have a friend who I should've never lost touch with. It wasn't too long but long enough. As my indifference was building in me and my intuition was suffocating, it manifested itself as a voice in my head taking on a friend's voice asking me to check up on my boy and I ignored it/me with the rationalization that I'm worried about friends who are really struggling like with breathing. As it turns out, I should've listened because he's been sick and as I'm returning to my intuitively receptive state I keep getting this, "How long have you been out of sync?"

If blind leading the blind is beneficial because it's having a mirroring effect, it's a two way street. How long have I been out of sync? Long enough that I wasn't able to see my friend's downfall. And I don't like feeling like I failed them. It's not my responsibility to keep them from falling, but it's also not my desire to lose myself as my friends struggle. I wanted to write because that was my way of wanting to give back. The detached me was more than satisfied to give back to society, but as I became a more intimate person, I want to give back in a more personal way.

The truth is that writing isn't as satisfying to me as it once was, although this is very therapeutic. What led me to finally do this was that when I realized I'm in emotional trouble, too, I instinctively looked up ways to combat depression naturally through food, vitamins, and exercises, the healthier way to combat depression and what my friend prefers. I wanted to compile a list of choices she can reference at her own time, when she's receptive to it rather than to heal myself. My priorities and habits definitely have to change, but I'm beginning to realize what my desires are, to help people.

I also want to end this by thanking a long time friend of mine who surprised me with an encouraging email. We don't keep in touch as much as I'd like, but every so often he checks up on me and his timing couldn't even be better. And the advice you gave me, you were right. I mean look at this never ending entry. I'm at a friend's place and he asked if I'm writing a novel. LOL! But seriously thank you!

The Unexpected Friends Who Remind me of the Value of Friendship, Day 289

This title and "reincarnation" of this entry is so much better than "I Shouldn't Have to Give You Instructions on How to be a Good Friend". I was in a situation where I really needed my friends, and the only three people I could really open up to about these things were unavailable to me. I was filled with resentment, frustration, pain, confusion, disappointment, selfishness, hypocrisy, and such negativity. I'll elaborate on it and I feel like my position was mostly valid, but it's such an unhealthy perspective to carry. Now I feel like I can step back and see the big picture instead of the distortion I was focusing on.

Every action has a consequence. Sometimes that's a good thing. If I had written an entry when I felt abandoned, I believe it would've been written well and it would've been very powerful. But I would've channeled something dark. So it wouldn't have been emotionally healthy. It would've be chaotic and full of hurt. So this is better even if it doesn't have that same raw intensity because there are more important things in life than my writing. This is something I especially want to be conscientious of when things aren't going so great, so that I step back and meditate on what truly matters and what's worth my time.

I've been having premonitions about a guy I liked for about a good year now. Not the entire time but you get the picture. I saw some things I wasn't ready to face. He's someone I usually go to about these things, but I don't want to scare him and it's not something I really want to share with him. He's one of the three people I can open up to and if it came down to it, I believe he'd be there for me. But I didn't test it out. It's not his fault he wasn't there for me. So I don't blame him at all. It was just difficult being alone in all of this.

I have so many friends, and people remind me of that all the time. But there's only three people I feel I could truly talk to about these things and in this particular case it was only two. One friend, I straight up asked him if it could just be the two of us because I really need to talk to him. I was clear that I really needed someone to talk to, and he chose to spend time with his girlfriend. He invited me along, but this wasn't a hang out for me and I believe I was clear about it.

I hate being an exclusivist but eventually I was open with both of them. I'm friends with her, too, but this is really private and intimate to me. She understands how close we are. I told them both that I'd like to only talk with him. She wasn't jealous but absent-mindedly selfish complaining about how she wants to know and doesn't like being excluded. Of course, he chooses to accommodate her over me. That really disappointed me because I would never do that. While I don't want to hurt anyone, I understand how difficult it is to open up. So I'd rather help my friend in need than satisfy someone's desires to be a part of everything. That's just not reality.

I was mostly disappointed in my friend's position because I've never known him to be like that. As for my other friend, she's a good person but I find her to be a lot more selfish around me than around others, so I wasn't too surprised by her reaction. Don't get me wrong. She wasn't trying to hurt me. I know that and I love her, but she was just killing me!

I'm not going to lie. That night I felt like she was enemy territory. She has no idea how selfless, considerate, and overly thoughtful she is of others. I became the person who showed her and assured her it's okay to be selfish and it is. But I feel like I become the friend everyone feels comfortable being selfish around. I'm happy that they're making progress in their emotional self-growth, but I hate feeling like I'm the only one paying the price for it. I get the short end of the stick.

Her friend molested me once and she spent the better portion of the evening constantly alternating between endless apologies and the incessant "Why didn't he molest me?" and "how sad now that I can't be friends with him because I love how we can talk about meditation and spirituality." Really? Are you kidding me? Do you not realize how incredibly inappropriate and selfish that is to bring up at a time like that? And in case you're wondering, she believes me. It's just when she doesn't understand something, she runs around in circles and can be rather oblivious.

I don't blame her at all for that guy's actions, and I know she carries that guilt with her. I wish she would just unburden herself. But I hated how she couldn't just be there for me. And when this happened, she was another road block. I can't understand why she just can't turn her selfishness off for me, her friend, for just a brief amount of time. She tells me straight up that she wants to hang out with just him, so she understands the irreplaceable bond between two people. I may not be his girlfriend but a bond is a bond. She has to know that.

But I fully understand that regardless of her position, he had a choice. And he chose her. I hate thinking in terms like this, though, and I resent him for putting me in this situation. I'm a friend in need. He hangs out with her all the time. I felt like he was being selfish, a crappy friend, neglectful, and in a way saying your pain is a lower priority for me, enough to disregard anyways. On the other hand, though, let's examine me for a moment, shall we?

I'm pissed because my friend won't make time for me. I'm pissed because my friend didn't choose to separate from what's making him unbelievably happy to enter a paralleled world that isn't his own to help someone else when he could be where he wants to be. I'm asking him to strip himself away from happiness. What kind of friend does that make me?

I suppose it doesn't matter because he never made time for me after all.....

I have another friend who I feel I can share just about anything with. Yet we can't always be there for each other. He was going through a lot, too. I don't want to further burden him. I really don't. But paradox is a bitch. As much as I didn't want to bother him, I so desperately wanted to feel better and it ached for me that he was suffering, too. We can both be selfish and stubborn as all Hell, but we have this innate capacity to really be there for each other. We never let the perpetuating negativity consume us and amplify when the two energies merge. We're good for each other. I could've helped him, just like he could've helped me. And it sucked that he went MIA, so that didn't happen.

As much as I'm promoting altruism, it's undeniable the selfish position I stood on. After all if he needs space, that's what he should have. Even if I could help him, sometimes we want what we want. And who am I to really say that me being there for him would've been better than the path he chose?

I'm just really disappointed because I understand the desire to choose your own happiness than help someone else in pain because once you feel theirs, it permeates you. But I always do it for my friends. I have premonitions of what kind of relationship I can have with this guy that I've liked for so long and my friend doesn't know this, but I went to visit him instead of stay and let that relationship grow. I took a plane to make sure he was okay because he was heartbroken instead of build on my own happiness.

I know my friend sensed it because he asked me what I would've done this weekend if I didn't visit him and I told him to not worry. I lied to him and said nothing more important than this. He could see right through the deceit and I can tell his heart was breaking for me and he felt bad because he's a good friend. He apologized and I ignored him. That's what I did for him. And he couldn't even send me an impersonal text? That hurts.

The timing sucked. I felt so alone. I felt even crummier hanging out with my couple friend. Earlier in the day was fun. I made a new friend, but things took a turn as premonitions flooded me. I know my well intentioned friend just wanted to make sure I was okay, and I totally lied to her. What was I supposed to do? Ruin the evening by accusing her of contributing to our other friend being a selfish friend and hash out that jerk who molested me that she's already haunted by? What would that solve? I pretended to be okay, but I was doing a terrible job. She accused me of never being like that, and that really irritated me. I've been like that for months because of the new dynamics of our friendship. She was always just too oblivious and self-involved with everyone else's feelings but mine to realize. So for her to tell me how I am really struck a nerve.

We ended up going to a crystal house which was much needed, a spiritual experience for a spiritual struggle. That's exactly what I needed, and our ride turned out to be someone who was there during the best day of my life! I talked to him the least, but it was so refreshing to see a familiar face associated with a positive time. We totally bonded and it was just great!

It's thanks to him that this blog has a completely different tone. It's still really difficult for me to express gratitude, but I hope he feels it and understands what he's done for me. Just his presence, the opportunity to see him again, and taking us to the crystal house was just incredible. He's so laid back and we began talking about writing and the value of experiences for self-growth. He wants to read my blog and he's exactly the kind of person I want reading this. But I didn't want to give it to him without including this entry because I'm so grateful for what he did for me. Sometimes the most precious thing is priceless, to be there for someone. You were just a ride and a stranger, but thank you so much!

And when we arrived, I had an opportunity to talk with a spiritualist who that night became my friend. I remember I instantly sensed a different presence in her when I first met her. There was a group of people, and I was drawn to her. She gave me some great advice last time and is so talented. I asked to speak with her and she was so receptive.

I actually couldn't bring myself to tell her about what's been going on. I had her read what I wrote about it. She seemed so moved and not in a comforting, I'm there for you because you're in pain sort of way but in a I just hit a nerve and we now have a bond that's just ours sort of way. She puts it down and says in the most genuine way I've ever heard anyone say, "I completely understand." (And by the way that's a script I'm asked to recite to customers when we fail them, so I'm not moved by it very much nowadays). But when she said it, I felt something change in me. She goes through the same thing, but she had a different perspective but it happens to her in a different way. It was truly beautiful.

Thank you so much, both of you guys!

Proof Enough for Me that my Intuition is Leading Me to Where I Should Be, Day 262

I'm not really sure where to begin or how to properly convey this sense of peace and knowingness that's purring inside of me. I've been living at this one place that's tainted with toxic energy. With every force there is an opposite, but even the positive energy has been contaminated and while I'm sure it still exists, it's become imbalanced and overwhelmed with the bad that there is no more benefit living here. Even the rent has increased, so I really have no reason to stay here anymore.

And it is was rather foolish of me to stay until I find a better paying job because that could take years. That's like putting my life on hold until something more helpful comes along. When does life ever offer me that? I know this entry sounds bleak and I don't intend it to be. It's actually a liberating reality. Some peoples' lives are sheltered and a breeze. Mine is not one of them. It's painful but it's breathtaking. I want to live.

I've been drawn to move to this area for quite some time. I'm considering becoming a bartender in that area. I'm confident I can do it, but I have to be exposed to that area to see if it's worth my investment and time. It offers me something extra that isn't offered here. It reminds me of home. People aren't hidden in their homes. The streets are trafficked with people. Everything is open. You can eat any time you want. You're surrounded by yummy food and not just the pricey snooty kind. There are bars everywhere and clubs. I'm not that kind of girl, but I grew up in that kind of place. So it feels comforting. The sticky floors. The exposed trashiness. The liveliness. That's where I want to be.

It's in an accessible area where I can be self-sufficient similar to where I live now but more expansive than I originally realized. There's a healthy distance between my friends and I, so it'll give me an opportunity to look within myself and become acquainted with my introverted side. But it isn't so isolated that I'd drive myself crazy. It'll force me to go outside of my comfort zone, but it's not uncomfortable, just new. That's important.

I was surprised that Koreatown is where I'm drawn to because I socialize with everyone and I'm not racist, although I do believe there are cultural truths to certain racial stereotypes. I always take the time to get to know a person before I make my judgment. I'm not going to say that I don't judge people because that's a load of crap. And, of course, I could come to the wrong conclusion and my personal biases can interfere with making a proper assessment, but I'm who I am. I can't deny that. With that said, I'd say I had the least connection with most Koreans as a whole. I'm not really sure why. It's just an observation I made.

So why would I move to an area concentrated with so many of them? It's a question I didn't focus too much on because after spending years of indulging in my compulsive habits of attempting to answer questions I'm unable to at that moment, I finally began realizing that the answers will come to me when I'm ready to receive it. If I really want my answers which I do, I have to stop prodding at it and give it time to build. So during this time I began looking for places in the area I was drawn towards.

The guy who manages the building has now become my writing collaborator. I knew I'd want to be friends with someone like him, and every other place I attempted to check out fell through consistently. After a series of mishaps, I got the apartment I wanted originally and I couldn't be more ecstatic! It's not even all that. It's a bachelor, but it's mine. And I feel like the universe has been guiding me to this particular place.

As for living in a highly Korean populated area with bars and clubs that aren't quite my scene, I realized during a grand opening at Tully's what my friend from work meant. He said it'd be good for me to be around my people. I didn't quite feel him, and I still don't entirely. But I think that's the point. Because I've never found that connection, I never made the time to go there. Now I will. It'll give me an opportunity to experience what I normally wouldn't take the time to do.

I felt so out of place hearing them sing karaoke. I'm so used to singing badly with friends for fun. It'll put me in a situation to take something I'm interested in seriously but in a fun way. I know that's such a small thing, but it's just an example used to make me realize that I'll be surrounded by new experiences. Lately things that I haven't been able to do have become possibilities. I want to see where this place will take me or where I'll take it....

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.