Climbing Up

I had been digging myself a hole of despair this entire month but it’s time to get myself out of it. I’m afraid to go to the doctor about my anxiety and stress issues. But I know I’m unable to handle either strain well.

I don’t really want to be prescribed things though. *sigh* I should at least talk about it to some sort of professional. Maybe there are options other than pills.

I can’t seem to control my emotions and thoughts when anxiety and depression hit me (especially if both attack me at the same time.) I’m not myself at all. My mind thinks of extremes that unnerve me. I begin to feel something is missing or broken. It’s been like this since high school really but I was able to manage it. Push through it. Now, I’m .. I’m susceptible to the slightest occurrence.

My parents suggested they take both my dogs with them to Florida. I had told them that Sean and I would stay instead of moving with them. I want Sean to be happy and fulfill what he wishes to do. But every time I think of my babies not being with me. The tears just build up.

I mean… I already cried at the thought that Gidget is going with them. I know she’ll be fine with them because she loves my dad to death. But if they took both I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I’d get so depressed. Being able to hold them, play with them and take care of them calms me down. It makes me happy.

God I feel like a moron. I’m balling my eyes out while typing this. At this rate I’m bound to get a cold. I’ve been crying too often this month, heh.

Good news is that Sean is being more attentive. I had shown him my blog. He read what he could and digested the information. He noted he seems to be making me unhappy. I clarified that it is the overly drunk part of him that had been making me unhappy. It was too much at once. I needed more of the sober minded Sean since I was so emotionally unstable.

Though instead of relying so heavily on him to make myself feel better, I’m taking steps to strengthen both my mind and my body. I once again altered my diet which I had been slacking on these past several busy months so that I can build muscle (to help out my back) and get the right types of vitamins into me to help limit the pains from my endometriosis (they are worsening again.)

I was able to sleep well for once last night.




This was by far the most educational experience I’ve had about my husband and his traditions. He will drink his mind raw every holiday [as all Irish do]. He made it very clear in his inebriated state that this will never change.

It is not that I don’t like him having his tradition of drinking and being merry. What I don’t like is the instability it brings when he drinks too much. But telling him not to drink too much is like telling someone not to breath too much.

Being utterly drunk is completely removing the filter over all the emotions and thoughts. Everything we suppress flows to the brim and spills over. And it seems that what one drinks, the amount of testosterone they’re producing, and how they feel at the time highly influences how they’ll behave.

He cannot truly have fun at an outing unless drink is involved. He found yesterday’s family event excruciating until the husbands of my cousins brought out the beer. He then spent most of the event with the husbands and sampling the different drinks they had brought. It was all in good fun.

The main issue that arises when he’s far gone from drink is his black out point. A point where he either remembers bits and pieces or nothing at all. He’s at his rawest when he blacks out. Either his thoughts trickle out with a bit of nonsense, which soon is followed by him passing out or he releases his deepest desires and thoughts.

He also develops tunnel vision where his own thoughts and needs take precedence until he sobers out. His core feelings for me remain strong though and he was very endearing towards me as soon as he got home. He told me how much he loves me, wishes to better himself for me, and make me happy. It made me feel good that he loves me so much despite all the ups and down.

But this is where it gets tough for me. His tunnel vision has a habit of not letting me say what I want to say. When I was able to squeeze in a word or two, it was countered by his inebriated logic and his feelings on the topic. He said it was the drink that was talking.

But it was him that was talking. The drink only impaired his brain but the thoughts he shared were what he had suppressed and possibly forgotten about over time.

Last night, I discovered there are things his innermost desires want that I may not be able to fulfill in the way he wants them. I’m limited due to my stage 4 endometriosis. A gnawing uneasiness developed within me when I realized I can’t fulfill something that his subconscious seems to really desire.

Many times I tried to make it a point to him that my body is a flimsy thing. His intoxication made him forgot how susceptible my cyst-riddled parts are. Intense and sharp pain is what usually greets me if we’re not careful.  He tried to be careful, he really did. But the pain still arose with such a ferocity I kept throwing up. I cried because the pain was so unbearable and I kept wishing I was different.

I wished I didn’t have endometriosis and that the pain would stop. I wished I too could drink to a black out point too so I wouldn’t have to remember everything. Being the only one to remember the details is a burden to my mind since I have the horrible habit of over-analyzing. And only when time blurs out the details am I able to return to a sort of normalcy.

He asked me this morning if I had a good Christmas. I told him that there were parts I enjoyed and parts that overwhelmed me. He apologized. I almost didn’t tell him what I really felt because I don’t want him to think that all I ever am now is depressing. But my mind wouldn’t allow me to lie about it.

I love Sean with all my heart. But I can’t keep up with him when he drinks too much. My mind and body hinder me. I told him I was afraid of losing him because of my inabilities. He said I won’t lose him.


Up & Down We Go

I just got back from a vent/chat/hang out session with my co-worker. She’s 27 and has grown up a little like me with being somewhat sheltered. But, unlike me, she actually broke out of that sheltered world and became spontaneous once she realized what she was missing.

I had a blast sharing stories with her. She had gotten a hot chocolate and she got me a drink too (a warm caramel apple cider.) We had went to Starbucks since it was close by. The place was crowded to the brim though so we shuffled into the adjoining Barnes & Noble. We ended up sitting down in the kid’s section and used the tiny benches as tables for our drinks and purses, lol.

Before I actually had decided to go and do this she had asked me if I had to head out somewhere. I went to check my phone to see what time it was (since I was going to pick up Sean and head to the grocery store with him) and I noticed Sean had texted me. He wanted pub time with his friends tonight. A part of me fell sad again but I wasn’t going to let it overwhelm me this time. I decided to go hang out with my coworker.

We talked for two hours about work, about relationships, about friends, and so on. She’s a cool person. When it came time to head home, I noticed Sean never responded to anything I had texted him after telling him I was going to hangout with my coworker.

Even now, at the time he said he’d be heading home (10PM), there’s still no response. I wish he’d remember in the haze of his inebriation to at least tell me if he’s okay. Or have someone tell me for him. All I can do is hope he’s fine.

I don’t know when he’ll be home.


P.S. He made it home around 11PM. His coworker brought him. He’s veery drunk. Must’ve had a long day.

Making Myself Happy

Sokay… I’m not sure what happened to my original post but as I went to go start another post, I saw that this one was empty. Everything I had written just up and disappeared and I’m not sure if it happened before I published it or after.

So long story short, I’m working to make myself happier by spending more time with Sean. So far so good. I actually feel close to him again and I feel loved.

I plan on continuously making sure I make time for him and me so I don’t end up like the lost and hopeless husk  again.


Only I Can?


I’ve been askew since my emotional breakdown. Deep down I know how illogical it was for me to overreact to Sean doing his own thing. But I wanted more affection from him and I didn’t know how to ask for it. He’s been working looong hours and it’s made him so tired and stressed out. Meanwhile, I was fighting this internal battle of trying to figure out what was wrong with me lately.

So when I realized it was that I didn’t feel close to him as of late and I wanted to tell him, he unexpectedly tells me he’s going to the pub for the night and drink his heart out. Well the last part he didn’t say but if you read the post about that night, you’ll see that he did that anyway.

So instead of getting the Sean I could talk and cuddle with, I got the Sean who was too drunk to stay standing. And yea, I turned into a big ass cry baby and broke down. And even for a moment found freedom in a troubling thought. *shakes head* I’m such a mess.

Anywho, I had told him that lately I didn’t feel like I was a part of his affections. That work took precedence and then his friends got him next. It was like I was last in the list of things even though I knew this wasn’t true. I know I’m in his thoughts but I can’t feel his thoughts. I physically need his attention as well.

He defended himself and I said I understood that he rarely gets to hang out with his friends and he can continue that all he wants. But he needed to learn how to turn off work when he gets home. It’s either he’s checking his work email or thinking about work. I told him I need more time with him [so I stop feeling so alone.] I told him I’d be on the computer less just so I could get that time with him (I struggled to have my own “social” life since he had his going on.)

This discussion all happened last night. I had picked Sean up from work at 7PM and we headed over to a dinner that my art director/boss held for us and my old coworkers that were in town. It was lovely to see them but it wasn’t like how I would normally be. I had to push myself to play happy and be social but I didn’t feel like I was really there.

I didn’t want to bring everyone else down and it worked. My art director believed me happy and Sean thought I was feeling better. But once it was done, I shed it off and returned to my “overwhelmed by my inner chaos” state. To imagine how I appear in such a state, imagine your inner fire for life has blown out because there is nothing to fuel it anymore.

Sean asked what was up and I tried to explain it the best I could but he said it was vague.

“I feel broken.” … “I don’t feel right.” … “I had put all my eggs into one basket and they’ve all cracked.” He asked for me to be more specific. I had to dig because there was too many to bring forth and my mind was worn out. So I pulled out one of the trivial things I could think of that I felt sad about.

I said I’d probably have to cancel the second wedding. I remember when I first said that to him a week ago, he shrugged and said okay. I was angry. Angry that he didn’t see how much it meant to me and was so ready to shrug it off. And I was sad as I envisioned that crazy, unique and expensive piece of fabric forever buried in the closet.

giphyBelieve me when I say I’m trying to go back to the regularly scheduled program but my mind is unsettled. It’s so angry and so unhappy that it’s hindering me from being how I normally am. *sigh* I don’t feel like trying anymore or wanting anymore. It feels pointless to.

When Sean said to be happy and enjoy Christmas. I said I’m having a hard time doing so. He then said I’m the only one who can make myself happy which made me emotionally slump even more.

I had fooled myself once again. I thought I understood how things worked in the world and realized I was far off. When I was on my own, I did believe that I was the only one who could make myself happy. But when I met Sean, I brought back the belief that someone else now could make me happy too. That I didn’t have to rely solely on myself for happiness. That I could now have Sean bring me happiness and I bring him happiness.

So, it comes down to Reality smacking me in the back of the head once more. I can’t rely on anyone else for my happiness. Why does this make me so sad? Why do I have to rely only on myself?… it just feels so lonely… this world keeps making me feel lonely…



It’s not so easy, eh.

I had written “I’m going to stop caring TOO much about things. At this rate, I’ll go insane if I keep doing so.” I didn’t realize how hard it was not to care until I found myself sleeping by lonesome last night. Sadly, my mind felt it the perfect time to reflect…

I felt lonely. I was able to keep down the anxiety but I still occasionally wept. I kept wondering if I’m just making a mess with the poor decisions I keep making. For example, I had turned myself into a chronic invalid by allowing myself to work long hours sitting on my bum for over 5 years. As a result of those long hours on me bum and along with no proper exercise,  I now have to deal with intense sciatica pain because of a herniated disc.

The weird part is that the nerve pain has changed how it hurts over time. First it hurt no matter what I did. After physical therapy it only hurt after sitting too long. After PT ended with the professionals I took on the task of continuing the routine myself and even bought a TENS unit. One day, I rushed the stretching and I did something that hurt it pretty badly. Now it’s hard for me to stretch the leg and the the nerve pain is running rampant up and down my lower backside and leg.

Another bad decision I think was telling Sean I can’t move to Ireland until we save up enough money to get everything that can handle our lifestyles. Being stuck in the countryside with no proper Internet and other amenities I take for granted in th U.S. made me realize that my selfish self won’t last long over there. I also said I want to experience beach life so badly so I want to stay in Florida for more than just a year. Deep down I think I somewhat upset him with my stir crazy tantrum which led me to open up about what I felt. It probably made him realize how selfish I am.

The last thing I feel I fek’d up on is our communication. It felt like old times on Skype when he and I talked without any electronics on. We talked with our eyes undistracted and we talked openly. It felt so good.

I don’t know how other wives deal with their husband being away but I don’t do well. Sean has embraced pub life fully now.  He got off work around 7/8 and casually drank the night away with his good friend. Then he went to hang out with his friend at his apartment and decided to stay the night so it’d be easy to get to work the next morning. Sean’s friend lives right by where he works.

I tried to keep anything I texted him positive. I fear letting my emotions speak for me will push him away. Especially when he’s inebriated. I fear him falling out of love for me if I become a wretched needy thing.

I don’t want to lose him.

Sincerely, Jenn

Dessert Drink a la Fail

I sometimes wonder if Fate or Life purposely align weird or crazy events to occur around my menstrual cycle. Or maybe invisible imps and pixies are pulling the strings. Either way, I’m just…somewhat hysterically traumatized.

You’d think posting about it on Facebook would be enough venting for me but alas, it is not.

Imagine you’re at an old restaurant you used to frequent often. For old times sake and because you have a strong craving for your favorite dish, you visit said restaurant. You also decide to break healthy eating protocol and order that favorite sugary drink you love.

Oh boy! You can’t wait for that delicious drink with gelatinous, tapioca spheres (bubble tea for anyone wondering.) Here it comes! You take a sip. Something tastes off. You shake the drink a bit and take another sip. Suddenly the taste of ammonia assaults your taste buds. Dread swarms around you as your tongue communicates to your brain that a shape that isn’t a gelatinous, tapioca sphere is causing the assault.

You quickly spit the unknown object out and to your horror… you see a roach. A dead one that is now quite mutilated, but a roach nonetheless.

You have no idea how this roach decided to make its final resting place your drink or why it tasted like chemicals. But you’re panicking and wiping your tongue like mad with the napkins you grab from the napkin box nearby. Your voice, though stifled by pure disgust, calls out to the waitress and exclaim you’ve found a roach in your drink!

Her eyes widen and she apologizes. She stammers as her eyes zero in on the dead roach atop a napkin now resting on the table.


The actual restaurant owners didn’t really react like one probably should’ve when told we had found a roach. I asked for a sprite and they disposed of the contaminated drink. Her excuse was that they have to find a better place to put the tapioca balls because they’re so sweet.

We were shocked, starving and tired so we didn’t leave. Everywhere else nearby was crazy busy. So we stayed, ate the luckily [and hopefully?] not infested food, and realized that the restaurant has a real issue when we see what looks like a baby roach skittering across their extra soup spoon holder.

I’m sorry, lady, but you should’ve told us, “We’re going to close down for a bit to do an extermination of a possible infestation.”

I’ll have to put in a complaint to the government health peeps but I feel so bad. Traumatized, but bad. It’s a family owned restaurant. I used to go there so often back in the day. 😦


I’m done… but I’ll keep moving forward


Excuse me while I clean up my previous dramatic post…


Writing in the heat of the moment doesn’t make me feel good when I look back at what I’ve written later. The gist of what I decided to erase was me throwing a tantrum about Sean not wanting to go to Florida.

The whole day consisted of me feeling angry then utterly apathetic to anything and everything. Several hours, hugs and discussions later, I pulled my head out of my ass and rebalanced my emotions. Sean believes and knows that I truly do need a break. He sees I’m crumbling apart.

But as usual, logic will take the forefront of his thoughts. And as I said before he already admitted to liking the area, not wanting to leave, and not wanting to leave his friends. But he clarified that more than anything he doesn’t want to take such a risk both in career and money by moving down to Florida without something stable and well-paying in line. Since you know, Florida isn’t known for its incredibly paying job opportunities.

One idea he has is staying back long enough to get a job in a place that will offer him the ability to work remotely and at good pay. He said he could live on his own or see if he could rent with one of his friends. The clingy part of me that doesn’t do well without him, doesn’t want to leave him up here. I want to be with him.

So whatever he decides, I’ll do my best to adapt to it and he’ll just have to deal with me being there.

Also, as I had written before the clean up, I’m going to stop caring TOO much about things. At this rate, I’ll go insane if I keep doing so.


As the world turns~

Numero Uno: It would appear that my sanity over the past weekend was slightly compromised by that monthly hindrance that nature so kindly bestowed upon womankind. If any believe that a woman is overreacting while her hormones are fluctuating before, during and after her menstrual cycle, then here…take my fek’d up uterus and you can go have fun experiencing that painful mess.

My period finally arrived yesterday without warning and I’m currently dragging myself through the morning with pain killers.

Secondo: The night before yesterday and yesterday evening were both quite lovely. Sunday night, Sean and I talked for a long while (without electronic distractions! :D) It was a very good talk. He got to explain the core of his Irish drinking ways and the whys and I got to explain my “I’ve lived under a rock half my life” so there are things he’s completely used to that I am not used to but will learn to adapt over time.

Last night was my first outing in ages. I went with Sean to the pub. Another one of his coworker/friends has left their workplace for a better opportunity. I keep forgetting how his friends are. They remind me of my old friends. The ones that used to live in the area and the ones I lost because of breakups. I truly enjoyed myself with rambling my head off  and eating delicious things.

And though I wasn’t able to drink alcohol, I did stuff myself with dinner and sweets. Well, the sweets backfired when my period decided to knock on my ovaries but those Oreo Ice Cream Cookies were worth it, gahd-dammit!

Terzo: Florida is an uneasy topic as of late. Sean made it clear that he thinks it’s a waste to even go there. People repeatedly saying “Isn’t that where old people go to die?” doesn’t help. I decided to have a quick look into how things are going down there rather than listen to people say the same things they’ve been saying since I was kid. And note, the majority of those telling us this crud haven’t even lived outside our home state…ever.

Sean has a way better chance at getting a job than me since he’s in IT. Currently their job growth is a smidge better than the U.S. as a whole, lol. The future job growth looks promising anyways.

I said if things don’t work out down south then fine, we can move back up. But I need my fek’n sunshine! I need my change of scenery and environment. I need my beach, slow pace of life, and the occasional shopping spree at one of those big ass outlets that always have clearance sales, lol.

In the end, we’re both jumping into the unknown with this. What I’m praying for is that moving to where my element thrives will bring my stress levels down to nearly zero. No stress = a better chance for my uterus to catch a break. Then if my insides allow it, maybe I’ll get preggers. If not then at least I get my sunshine, beach life, and big fenced backyard to chillax in while our dogs frolic.


Fek Fek Fek

My anxiety is getting worse. I mean looking back at my prior posts will be proof of that but it finally crossed the line into insanity this past weekend. If my dainty heart and mind are not prepared to encounter a certain situation, I turn into a ball of despair and tears.

How in the world did I let myself become like this?

All these years I tried to do things the safe way. I took the less dramatic, dangerous routes in my life. I wouldn’t allow myself to become vulnerable to anything that could possibly kill me or make me full of regret and have the world (i.e., mainly my family) judge me. I wasn’t an angel about shit but I wasn’t exactly fucking things up so badly I’d end up on The Jerry Springer Show throwing chairs at people.

My husband has been able to just have fun and not give a fuck all his life. The luckiest shamrock in the world had stuck  itself up his ass and literally gave him a shield that allows him to just experience the craziest shit one could experience and still be on top. Well, mainly his logic and intelligence is what’s keeping him on top of things. Many others would have gotten lost in the paths he took and gone downhill.

But I never let myself ever not give a fuck and…it sucks. Fear of experiencing pain or loss always kept me from venturing too far into the deep end. Any time I even slightly let myself not care, bad things would happen. Though when I cared too much bad things would still happen. I can’t win really.

I went to a dark place Saturday evening.

Sean dropped the “I want to be at the pub with my friends” unexpectedly because one of his friends is leaving the company. I was halfway into the drive to pick him up (though I accidentally set off an hour earlier than I meant to) and he told me to go home, that he’d head home around 8PM and not drink too much.

That was his first mistake. Inputting the expectation into my now uneasy mind that he’ll at least be home around 8 and won’t drink too much. I say uneasy because it isn’t fun dealing with a drunk Sean. It’s like dealing with an unruly, rebellious 2 year old who has no control over his limbs. For example, what would be intended to be a hug would turn more into a clothesline.

I was alone with the dogs at home. It was dark outside. Eerie quiet. I literally know now how it must be for the dogs to be stuck at home waiting for their beloved humans. My parents didn’t come home until very late. Sean didn’t come home until very late.

I was left wondering how drunk Sean would be because he didn’t come by 8 or 9 or 10. He pushed it off to have fun and not give a fuck. While I was giving a million fucks multiplied by worry and loneliness. I felt angry. He gets to have this occasional social life that I don’t. He gets to be the irresponsible drunk while I can’t unless I want to make my endometriosis attack me full force. Well, that and beer seems to make me throw up once it goes past half a cup in my stomach.

When he blacks out from drink he doesn’t remember a thing. He didn’t remember cheekily smiling at me and blowing cigarette smoke into my face when I unhappily noticed that it wasn’t his vape that he was smoking. He didn’t remember falling everywhere. He didn’t remember locking himself in the bathroom while naked and then collapsing on the floor. And then randomly kicking the door every minute.

The only bit of  satisfaction I received that night was being able to pour a pitcher of cold water onto his body while he was passed out on the bathroom floor. I had to push the lock on the door with tweezers first to even get into the bathroom but god it felt good to actually shock him awake like that.

I couldn’t talk to him though that night so I was left simmering with thoughts. After I told him to go to bed, which he did so without complaint, he passed out into a deep slumber. While I cleaned up the water on the bathroom floor, his body took over the bed as he decided to sleep in a diagonal position. And the dogs took whatever space was left.

I was left to fume on the floor. I was so angry. Even when I told him all this, I don’t think he understood right away the intensity of how bad my mind was. He just knew I was having anxiety problems and he didn’t help. Heck, he didn’t see anything wrong even with having blown cigarette smoke into my face. Everything was just humorous to him. I got a laugh out of some of it too but that was after I got to pour my heart out to him early in the morning.

He isn’t sorry for wanting to drink with his friends and I totally understand. He doesn’t need to feel sorry. He’s 25 years old and people need their nights out. But I told him I need him to help me out a little. To be my freaking husband and just either keep to what he says he’ll do or have someone keep in contact with me so I’m not left thinking he’s going to fucking end up in a drunken car crash or some random shit.

The reason I said that my mind was in a dark place that night was because my anxiety had messed me up so bad; so horrifically bad that coupled with the pent up frustration, I reached a scary point. A point where I felt like the only way of release was jumping off into the air—in other words, I imagined jumping off a bridge. I imagined being free from myself, free from the shit in this world, from the expectations of it all, from caring too much, and from feeling like I have to care.

I told him this and he seemed worried. Heck, I was worried too. I felt a thousand times better though after I told him everything and he said he understood. He said he’ll work with me on days he decides to go out to the pub late instead of leaving me hanging in the dark. And that we’ll go out on a date soon which is something I need right now.

I know life isn’t bad right now. It’s irksome a lot of the time but there’s a lot to be thankful for. But I no longer have a filter for my emotions or thoughts. And I don’t get to have a time out with people I want to be with. I’m either at work or at home. And Sean and I hadn’t gone out on a date in a long while so I’m stir crazy in that department.

So if anything I’ve written sounds overreactive and/or scary, my apologies. I have a lot to work on with myself and this blog is my only way to let it out. I’m just venting. And I don’t plan on killing myself. I just want freedom from my mind once in awhile. I just don’t know how I’ll get that yet.