Writing into the Void

I had a humongous fight my little sister.

I'm the oldest of 3 siblings, and the gap between the youngest and me is big, more than a decade big, so the way we were raised by the same parents was vastly different, which led to our fight.

Sure, all siblings fight, and this was not the first one, but we had never had one this major before, one that involved me yelling and telling her to do things, and one that ended in her having both a panic attack and a complete meltdown in my arms, while I was fuming both in anger and concern.

Those differences in life are what landed us in this position, me, tired of the expectations to carry everything and everyone in the family, while she lives the spoiled brat life and just reaps the rewards. Me, having to sacrifice my personal time and resources to help her out, with much of a payback for me, unable to say no because it's my role as the oldest, and with no one to rely on when I'm the one in need of help.

We sorta made up, watched an online concert together at a ridiculous time, and now I'm writing this the day after, feeling still sad, and angry and a weird mixture of things while I also feel hungover even when I didn't even had any drinks last night.

If I ever stop crying, I'll maybe stop making so many typos.

I’ve always known what I have to offer, whether be my looks, my intelligence, my capabilities, my talents, etc, I know myself, and I know what I can do and what I want. 

What I hate is having to prove myself every forking time. 

Do I have the face of a liar?  Do I seem like I bluff about everything? WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO PROVE MYSELF TO YOU?!?!

It hurts me, and I have been diagnosed in the past with low self-esteem because of this, because I never seem to measure up in the world’s eye. 

I’m not pretty enough I’m not skinny enough I’m too fat I’m too latina I’m too smart I”m not smart enough I don’t have experience I’m not experienced enough I’m not dateable I’m too clingy I’m too insecure I’m too shy I’m too impulsive I’m not impulsive enough I worry too much I don’t care about anything I’m not sociable I’m not approachable I’m too intimidating I’m not appealing I’m too clever I’m not clever enough I’m too complacent I’m not understanding of others I’m too closed up I’m not what you are looking for I’m too good for you, so you have to let me go (his words, not mine)

I cannot count how many times I have signed up for Tinder and not even gotten a sex bot contact me. I’m not even worthy of spam. Much less the affection of another human being. 

My heart is aching tonight, just because I’m feeling like i’m not living up to the mark, and even thought I know how I am, and my worth is, I’m too tired to having others believe me, and always failing miserably at that.  There are points during my life where I feel like I’m alone because the whole world has decided that I’m not worthy of them, you have no idea what it feels to have people who don’t even know you reject you just based on what they see, and this happens everywhere, work, church, everyday life. 

While my sister was still attending High School (she has since graduated... yay! a small yet humongous achievement), she got to do a lot of things I wished I had the opportunity to do, but because my parents did not allow me to be in High School in the USA, the one I attended in México did not provide me the same chances. One of those things was to be part of the musical theater programs in her school, and like anything high school related, some sort of drama had to exist.

In this case, the drama was that one of the other girls in the play who everyone hated and who thought too highly of herself was trying to seduce the Band/Choir teacher who was assisting with the play. Said teacher had actually asked my sister about me, and if I was seeing someone, but never went and acted upon it. So, in order to mess with the girl, my siblings and I devised a plan for me to ask him out on a date in front of the girl on the closing day of the play, just to rub it in. 

After a lot of convincing that I should actually date the guy, and that not do it just for petty reasons, I ended up asking him out, and to my surprise, he did say yes. 

By this point I had broken my #1 self imposed rule regarding dating: DO NOT ASK OUT GUYS FIRST. 

I’ve have had really really bad experiences with this in the past, and after much heartbreak and pain, I decided it wasn’t worth it anymore, and that if anyone was interested, they would have to take the first step. 

This time I went in with the expectation that it was going to be only one date, no feelings in the mix, and that it was just trying new things, since this was the first guy I dated outside my religion, as well as the first time I was the one planning the date and all that stuff.

The date goes well and the guy is really smooth that he manages to score a second date the following day. That second date was a bunch of firsts for me, not THE first, but still, a bunch of other firsts. Needless to say, we ended up dating for a while. 

Around our 2nd month anniversary, I started seeing the signs, the same ones I had seen on all other guys, the signs that pointed that things were rapidly going south. I refused to believe it, since I was still kidding myself over the feelings I was/wasn’t developing for him. In order to salvage things and to show him my appreciation, I bought us tickets to see a show together, since we hadn’t done anything “big” for a while.  He was really quiet the days leading to the show, insisting on paying me back for his ticket, but I didn’t let him, I had invited him, it was my idea, I wanted to be nice, and if he wanted to repay me, he could take me out for dinner or something. 

The day of the show came, he was really really serious, and while we walked to the venue after parking the car, he did not make an attempt to hold my hand or get close to me, but I let it slide, I was excited for the show. I did see him enjoy the show and laugh, something I hadn’t seen him do for days, which made me happy and a little relieved to see him be a bit of his normal self. On our way back to the car, since it was dark, I thought he would hold my hand while we walked, which he didn’t do, and he was way too quiet. 

We get to the car, and I can see that something is bothering him, but I cannot bring myself to ask what was happening. Once we reach a red light, he finally gets the courage to tell me what was happening. Something really serious and horrible was happening with his family and was affecting him, and his immediate family. I could only say that I now understood his change.

Then he tells me that he needs to be alone, that he needs space and time to process the whole thing and to help his mom and siblings go through this situation. Inside I’m breaking into thousands of pieces, but I just hear myself telling him that I understand, that he should take all the space and time he needs and that I would still be here, waiting, no matter what. By the way, I still hate that intersection, and I pretty much drive past it every day on my way to work, so I hate it even more, because I can only think of my word, and my huge need to cry while he was telling me all of this, but not letting myself break down in front of him. 

So, while he is trying to break up with me without actually breaking up, I’m just there thinking “Yep, the curse still stands”... 

I have never had a relationship last more than 2 months.

It’s not by choice (well... once it was, but that’s another story), but it seems that all the guys I date seem to have the sudden urge to drop me like a hot potato at the 2 month mark, as if I was an expired carton of milk that had been sitting in the fridge for far too long, and has gotten disgusting and useless. 

My biggest issue with this whole situation was that our “breakup” was never an actual breakup, since a)We never called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, b) We never clarified if we were actually dating or not, despite seeing each other every other day and texting non-stop every day and c)He is so vague.

I still don’t know if he wants me back or if I’m completely out of the race, because he posts the most cryptic messages on FB via those Word Porn memes/images, so I never know if they are directed at me or not, but he knows I check FB too much (it’s worse than any drug addiction), so I believe they might be meant for me to see, but at the same time, he makes zero effort to communicate directly with me.  Dude, I can barely read the lines, let alone in between. 

So right now I wish I could tell him several things like: 1.- I’ve actually broken up with him in my head like 4 different times, because that was the only way I could manage to fall asleep after thinking about him too much

2.- My feelings for him... They change a lot, some days they are just empathy and understanding and my desire to help him as a friend, other are hate and anger over making me cry in too many occasions, but the worst is the most common feeling, the one where I still hold hope that he wants me back as much as I want him, because I still like the SOB, and he cannot leave my thoughts alone. 

3.- To thank him for the good things he made me enjoy. 

4.- To reassure him that despite anything, I can/want/will help. 

5.- To give him the things he lent to me. I never meant to keep his video games or books, and he should have those back. 

Lately I feel like I’m not up to par with anyone or anything. Like I’m not measuring up at work, at home, or at life, that I am the worst thing thing walking around these parts, the person you most likely would pick last for anything involving a team. 

I told the void about my depression last time, and how it was running rampant around my brain, and it is still happening. I discovered that one of my triggers is being reminded that my “accomplishments” are not even mine. In retrospect, the situation seems rather dumb and that it shouldn’t bug me as much as it did. 

Last Friday we had a silly award ceremony that my bosses did after we passed a mayor evaluation at work, and they basically came up with funny thing about our interests, our passions, and the things we were known most for, so someone who in the past delved in professional photography (like I have) got the “Annie Leibowitz” award, someone else got a “Grammy” because they came up with a song for one of the books we read often, another one got a Order of Merlin, first class, just because they like Harry Potter (like I do... I might be even more of a HP nerd, but whatever). So when they got to me, first thing my boss says...”oh... well, we will reprint it...”, which is never a good sign.

She hands me this piece of paper, that shows them mocking me for me having to often correct them on how to pronounce my name, along with the incorrect last name (the only correct thing was the initial... apparently that is what happens when one of your bosses and you share the same initials...), and that my GREAT accomplishment was.... being an aunt. 

Yep

My biggest accomplishment is that I have a brother who had sex, got his wife pregnant, and that now they have a baby, and therefore, I am now an aunt. 

Nothing about my work, nothing about what I like, nothing about what I might not like, nothing.

So now you can know that after leaving the dinner, driving back home with my sister in tow, I holed up in my room, turn on spotify, and cried for several hours, as I am doing right this second, while recounting the experience. Apparently one of my triggers is remembering stupid, depressing situations. 

I could technically say that the award is not mine, since the person being awarded too is not even me, but that would even make it more painful, to say that I didn’t even get an award would be a little bit worse, even if it is the technical truth.

And that reprint? Hasn’t happened yet, and I doubt it will ever do. 

I continue being physically sick, this time with a stupid cold that has turned my brain into goo, my nose an eternally flowing fountain of mucus , as well as sporting some lovely cuts on the outside because of skin cracking despite excessive use of lotion and lotion covered tissues to prevent said problem. 

While the Universe continues to flip the metaphorical bird at my life, it seems that also a lot of other people around me are having as bad a time as I am. A friend lost her child due to medical issues, one of my cousins gets to remember her departed child while carrying the heavy weight of a new baby on the way, my grandmother on my mom’s side slipping further away into dementia and alzheimer’s, while my mom strugges with finding appropriate care for her since she finally admitted to herself that she cannot continue doing it just by herself, despite the promises she made to both my grandpa and my cousin when they passed away that she would take care of her. If only I had the strength or the courage to flip it right back.

I have so much shit going on in my brain, that all this added thing with my parents, my sister, my brother, my work, with the world, it’s just getting to me and i’m ready to burst into a million pieces, while I know that no one is around or willing to pick up the pieces, and that eventually, it will fall on my to put myself together, like I’ve always have to do when things go south.

By this point I don’t know how the heck am I going to survive this week, but somehow it is going to involve massive amounts of chocolate, and whatever else that can be good... music is good.

Work is being a bit (and by a bit I mean A WHOLE LOT) stressful, not only because they are making me run around all around town at ungodly hours in the morning, and then preparing for an interview that I was assured I wasn’t going to be a part, but last minute was added, so it is all going crazy and I cannot seem to handle it, despite assurances from everyone that everything will be fine, that I just need to breathe and get on with it, you know, the same crap that people will tell depressed people to “get them out” of their funk. But in this case, it is not working, the same as depressed people.

One, because everyone is seeing the situation from the outside, and not actually from my point of view, from the point of view of the person having to drive to the brand new schools before the sun rises and expect for me to be all perky, happy and knowledgeable, as well as prepared for dealing with 0 to 5 years old and their parents, then deal with the bureaucratic things of office work and dealing with paperwork... thank goodness I actually love my job, so this is not much the complaining of having to do my job, but rather the amount that all fell on top of me on one fell swoop.

As for the interview, pretty much everything is out of my control, I just need to know what to say, and that’s it, and we are getting heavily coached in that regard, but if you ask me, I would much rather have to bath a dozen dogs than to be in that whole process, but oh well, c’est la vie! (which reminds me, that I haven’t started investigating how can I learn french, since that was my only new year’s goal this year...)

FYI, listening to depressing music is not good for writing, because you end up crying while yelling the lyrics back to your computer monitor, as if you were “singing” them to an ex or to whoever is aggravating the problem... So avoid Death Cab, TOP, or anything with intelligent lyrics, and stick with dumb stuff, so that means that about 90% of my spotify playlists are out... gah... so much for music being a healing balm.

After reading Lauren Graham’s memoir, it reminded me so much of my tone of writing, which is a bit sarcastic, sardonic, but somehow still extremely simple and common, which is me summed up, the simple and common girl who has deep layers of funny, sarcastic, dark and sardonic tones buried within.

So because I been on this rock form the scientist like to like Earth for way too long (or at least longer than 99% of the Tumblr users), I have a lot to give and to teach, if you call relating my boring/laughable moments lessons, at least someone (or no one, which is much more likely) will get to read this mess of existence I get to call life.

So for that, lets start with today. 

Today was one of those days when you think you are doing an awesome job, and that all the “good” intentions you are letting out are not hitting the mark, and you end up causing much more turmoil and issues than what you solve.

It all started with a certain FB conversation... Let’s just say that i’m pathetic enough to have all my family on FB, and by all, I mean ALL... Mom, Dad, siblings, sister-in-law, etc. etc. 

Well, the immediate family had a Messenger conversation, that in occasions would get stupid/dark/meme central or completely random, but mostly filled by photos of my 2 month old nephew shared by my sister-in-law, because she has to brag about her kid. So on a whim, my dad decides that he needs to add my grandmother to the conversation, which I saw as a big ERROR!! We already had another conversation where she was already included, a much tamer one, but where my sister-in-law had forgotten to post her deluge of photos, so we end up having 2 conversation where my grandma, who is currently in her “I’m trying to understand technology but everything you say will condemn you to hell” phase, so I definitely did not want for her to see the whole mess of conversation that my family normally has, so I decide to kick her out of the unused conversation, and just leave her on the other one, which my dad took offense over that, and I ended up causing a whole mess. And just because I still wanted an outlet for our silliness without having grandma judgy mcjudgerson lording over us.

And then, for work, I’m supposed to go out to the community and very creepy, approach families in supermarkets, and other random places to get them to come to our parenting/storytime classes, and I hate doing that... So after convincing myself to do this, I go to the places i’m supposed to go, and dumb me forgets to set aside some of the flyers for the families and I left them all at the school were we are doing our classes, so I end up not having information to hand out, which defeats the whole purpose of me going out to “recruit” when I dont even have the information to recruit with.

So now I have an upset boss, an upset parent, and a somewhat defeated self.