#dontjustdont

Today is my 30th birthday.

You might be wondering why I'm here. I haven't logged in to this account since forever. And THAT is precisely the reason why I am HERE - no one sees this much. I got 82 followers, whereas I have 1,223 "FRIENDS" on Facebook and hmmm... let's see... 82 on Twitter and 290ish on Instagram. My small social media presence notwithstanding, I am here because I found myself crying this morning. Bear with me as I write (yeah you! Whoever you are who has had the misfortune of coming across this post).

The past two years has been a blur for me. I met a really awesome guy (SO to my husband Justamos), we got together, maintained a long-distance relationship for almost two years, flew me here to America, and married me. I love him so much and he's a fantastic man. He has nothing to do with all my shit surfacing right now.

I AM HERE IN AMERICA. FINALLY.

Anyway, a few weeks before I left the Philippines my friends had asked me slash told me slash told me how to feel the following:

"How do you feel about leaving?" *this is the 'ask' part*

Me: ....

"You must be so happy to finally leave this country." *this I think is the 'told' part

Me: ...

"You should feel happy and lucky your leaving." *this is the "told me how to feel' part*

Don't get me wrong my friends meant well and they were so happy that I finally met my match and I love them to death. I still think I'm feeling a titch too touchy about them saying those things. But I still remember those words and I feel like, “Don’t tell me how the fuck to feel.”

Yeah, I am happy (and no I'm not writing this particular sentence to convince myself yes I know what you're thinking and no I'm not being defensive). I am happy that my daughter is having a grand time - meeting new friends, playing sports, getting to sleep in her own air-conditioned room with food to eat. I'm happy to wake up beside my husband every single day even if he hoards the bed at night and THOSE elbows to my ribs and tummy (I still think that's a subliminal message for me to lose weight lol).

BUT.

I'm bored to death.

Well, ALMOST to death. I don't mean to play around the word "death". Please let me explain, okay?

I started working when I was 16 (going 17), took a couple units in college then got pregnant at the inconceivable age of SEVENTEEN FREAKING YEARS OLD. Now I am not judging teen moms but if you know me, or if you were me you would judge yourself too. It was unthinkable for me. And for other people. You wouldn't believe the level of disappointment people had no business of feeling when they heard there's a baby in my tummy. But that's not the issue here. The point is, I worked from when I was 17 and up to a few weeks shy of my 30th birthday. That's 13 years. And now I'm here in the States. No job except being a mum and a housewife and in that regard I have no complaint. It's just that I am a 30-year old woman who needs to do something.

I am 30 years old now, and that realization hit me this morning and I started bawling my eyes out.

Let me make a list of the thoughts in my head as I cried this morning:

1. "I'm hungry." *cries*

2. "Well, then get off the bed and make yourself something."

. . .

3. "I can't. I'm too sad."

4. "Happy birthday, Julie (my sister-in-law) and James (my brother-in-law)."

5. *texts Julie* "Julie hey I think depression has started to hit me. I'm sorry I know it's our birthd..." *deletes the text because bothersome Mia*

6. "Fuck this shit I don't have a friend here."

7. "I wonder if people miss me at home."

8. "Why is it that I only got 99 happy birthday posts on my Facebook wall? You people who didn't greet me - I KNOW YOU AND I WILL REMEMBER THIS."

9. "But it's okay y'all are probly busy."

10. "Nope I still can't get up. I wanna smoke but nope not getting up."

*then a group of jolly shih tzus entered my room with their happy feet and giggly butts and morning kisses on my face and their excited eyes and a big-ass bubble butt Newfoundland dog named Isaac stared at me as if asking,"Why are you still in bed?"*

So you see - these were my thoughts. And I know my post is all the hell over the place with absolutely no cohesiveness whatsoever. Please forgive a struggling mom and housewife. And I have never been a writer. 

I wrote this to feel better. I have no one to talk to. Although technically I ain't talking to anyone because hello? This is a text. I have no friend.

And these are my realizations:

1. It's all in my head.

2. I wasn't depressed. Me saying depression has started to hit me is an insult to those who are battling real depression.

3. I don't have time for my emotional bullshit because broke.

3. The world doesn't stop when you're sad. And when you’re just lying in bed. OR a water bed in my case. Whatever, Mia.

4. Be better at making friends.

5. Learn to reach out. Why the fuck is it so hard for you to tell people you need help?