This is a work in progress much like myself…

One of the many joys of being bipolar is when you have all your shit stuffed into proverbial boxes and stored nicely away… then one of those little fuckers pops open and starts to spill out everywhere… then another and another! Next thing you know… you’ve become the anxiety filled, paranoid, overly emotional basket case that you hide from everyone! Hello rapid cycling! Happy one day, crying the next. What goes up, must come down. I am on the rollercoaster of emotions and trying to keep up the facade that I am completely in control!

Ha! I am so far from it it’s not even funny. So work per usual has stirred up all kinds of negative emotions coupled with some well earned paranoia. I am exited about what lies ahead and my upcoming retirement (more on that later). I also got the first hint of fall which means I usually means mania is bound to follow. Then let’s throw in more emotion because of the weirdo.

So let me start by defining what weirdo means in Nikki language. A weirdo is someone who I approve of, accept, and love unconditionally. I found my first mutual weirdo relationship since the yellow knight died. The catch… well he’s a D name and my history with D names is never good. Then there’s the issue of the long distance/ long term gf. I mean from what little I know about her and them… they do seem to fit together. I have been trying to stuff whatever feels I may have caught down into a box and seal the damn thing shut! Well… the fucker won’t stay closed! Boundaries are the name of the game I have now entered!

So now… on top of all my other spiraling emotions… I have to deal with my feels for the weirdo. It’s my own damn doing because in typical Nikki fashion, I like to play with fire. I swore up and down the weirdo was just plain weird and there was no way in hell I would catch the feels. I tried to convince myself that it was gonna be strictly platonic. Worst lie ever.

Nothing has happened physically between us except me pointing out we haven’t ever physically touched and well he decide to be the one to break the ice by shoving my arm in a very playful manner. Then there was the super awkward hug. Oh and the my face was on fire so I made him touch it to verify that indeed I was producing some mad heat. Lips locking, jumping up and wrapping my legs around him, passionate cuddling… all hard nopes. Not even an accidentally, on purpose boob graze…

But let’s be clear, I think the lack of acting upon the sexual tension is making the emotional bond more intense which is probably worse. Now there’s this unspoken you are the light and the missing piece to the dim puzzle that has overtaken me. It’s obviously mutual. We are both scared.

The weirdo knows the rando stuff I listen to and watch. I was finally able to gush about a character I am totally in love with and complain about the characters that drive me batshit that no one else seems to know what the hell I am talking about, but he does. I was genuinely excited about all this! We talk for literally hours. Every day we have spent together has been some of the most amazing days ever! He even caught me on camera smiling and laughing.

Then the next morning comes around and the day before is just a memory. Reality hits that he is leaving soon and most likely that will be that. It also is a harsh reminder that he is not available for me to swoop in and take as my lover. So… what happens… I cry about it and nope like a sad puppy. I am sad that he is leaving. I am also sad that it is an exhilarating romance that will never be. It’s just not fair that I can be so open and vibe with someone on that level and yet never get the chance to be truly held in his arms. Never feel his hand in my hair as he pulls me close to passionately and delicately lock his lips with mine. I will never get to take his hand to waltz around the room to some random song that only the two of us seem to love. A lost romance that lives in a different time line. Because that’s exactly who he is.. a lover from a different life. Why did we have to collide in this lifetime??

I keep telling myself that he’s a lesson to be had in regards to opening up to others again. It half works. However this push and pull thing going on is hard because I just wanna scoop him up in my arms and tell him it’s all okay, even though it’s not. We can’t be together. He has other commitments and obligations. He has a life that does not include me. Even if he did decide to change his stars and let me in as more than the platonic bouncy friend, he still would have to grieve over his current relationship. Quite frankly… I don’t got the time or brain space for that.

So… I found a weirdo. I caught the feels for the weirdo. I let the weirdo in. Our souls connected. Now, he goes back to his safe space and I am left with nothing but a memory of a weirdo who lit up my soul to let my light shine again.

Only if I could shove the weirdo in a box and label it… do not open. The memories are some of the best. He touched my soul in a way that only few have been able to do. I cherish our time spent together, but let’s be real here… I want more. I want to see what would happen, but my favorite pain in the ass friends called the universe and her sister fate have other plans. Those two…

Well… it’s time to drift into a land where I make the rules, not them… night night!

Nikki

So, I’ve been a little MIA. Not on purpose or because I was having some sort of mental breakdown… I just have worked entirely too much. 128.75 hrs. in 2 weeks, to be exact. This is WAY too much time at work. I only had a few grumpy moments, but overall… I handled it okay. I did stop having fucks to give by week 2. And I did tell one of my coworkers to stop interrupting me and let me finish my sentence before cutting me off. That shut up her up. It also caused mass silence in the department. It was kind of great. Her face made it worth it. The whole thing was over my work radio missing. It literally disappeared out of nowhere. I am almost certain she stole it and hid it. People are petty and shallow. She wouldn’t be the first to fuck with me to make me feel crazy. Also, her response to me, upset that it just disappeared, spoke volumes. She stood up and tried to make it seem like I was accusing someone (aka- her) of stealing it. I was just shocked no one could find it 24 hours later. Usually, it’s found by then. The most ironic part is that our mutual friend miraculously found it in her bag at 5 am this morning, almost 3 days later. Coincidence, I think not. Just sucks she lied to our friend and used her as a pawn for her psychotic behavior. Seriously… grow up already. People are so petty and childish. This woman is also in her mid-60, mind you. Old enough to know better but smart enough to get away with it.

So aside from work drama, I am still feeling like me. My baseline is apparently a borderline hypomania with hyperactivity and a whole lot of boldness and sass. I just stopped caring about people being shitty, and they aren’t going to hold me down or make me feel weak anymore. Y’all had your fun, now it’s time to meet the bad ass bitch I am known for being. And this girl isn’t going to take your shit because you are a bully and unhappy with your existence. In other words, y’all are done fucking with me. I regained what makes me, me back. I am that spastic girl who seems to always a few steps ahead. I am still too much, but whatever that’s their problem not mine. I am not sorry for who I am. The world needs me to be me to my fullest.

I did start talking to someone, but per usual, I am too much. My anger with the bullshit of work gets the better end of me. I can be a litte ragey. Though, to be fair the hand I was dealt the last time I worked was utter bullshit, and as a result, there is an investigation open because of it. Some people really fucked up and bad. I am not protecting them. The whole thing was super messed up. Unfortunately, I met a good person who is introverted and well… I am a lot to handle and she figured it out quick. Though to be fair.. so is she. We are both fire signs and act as such.

I do like her because she makes me feel normal and doesn’t really judge. She’s also is a kind soul and a little nuts but hides it well. Honestly, its a turn on. A lot things about her are. She’s kind of amazing. I am hoping she comes around. I want to explore more with her. But, I also understand if I am not her cup of tea. I usually am not. At least, I hope we can be friends.

Off subject… Mags… HOLY SHIT! This dude is 100% a Frank Abagnale, Jr. (from Catch Me If You Can). He’s a total pathological liar. He didn’t like Alan… he just said he did to throw me off. I would have figured it out the first time we hung out outside of work. But it all makes sense now. So, he lied about his age and his experience. He’s really 25 posing as a 37-year-old with a lot of made-up history. He also got fired so I won’t be seeing any more of him. Oh well. I am not heartbroken. I was over his whole gay revelation the day he told me. Something felt really wrong about it. It felt deceitful. Again, explains the tarot reading I got on him. He is nothing but bad news. A lot of it. Also, he may want to close up his social media… I found a picture of him in a high school classroom a few years ago. Ugh, why do I attract psychos?

And why do I itch all the time? I need to go back on Whole30…. and to take a nap

Nikki

Today is the first time I felt okay. I didn’t feel shattered or broken. I just laughed at the stupid shit in my life again. I am not grieving anymore. I was able to let the person who I was prior to 2021 free. I missed her. I honestly feared she would never return. She’s been gone for so long.

Of all things… this is what did it… Mags told me he was gay. He told me by telling me in front of a whole bunch of people that he had a crush on my boy bestie. My jaw hit the floor, and I lost my shit in front of everyone I worked with. Great, I am trying to gain power and respect… and that fucker drops the biggest bomb on me ever. Okay maybe not the biggest, but it was quite the shocker. Once I got over the initial shock and wanting to crawl under a rock and die…. I realized this… first off… WTF?!?!? This shit hasn’t happened since high school! And second… OMG! I got my first taste of stupid shit that I should cry over but laugh at shenanigans! Bouncy Spice is back!

He felt bad about it because he came to see me 3 other times to make sure I didn’t hate him. I actually don’t but I won’t be fantasizing about him anymore and now I get a lowkey something is really off vibe. It’s like the part I was blinded to suddenly came to light. I also hear a lot of rumors about him. I don’t think he’s inherently a bad guy, I actually think we are way more alike than either of us are willing to admit. I also think he may be slightly more effed up than me. I do hope he can become my new boy bestie when mine leaves me in April. Also, I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him that me and the boy bestie have sleep overs and platonically cuddle! Oh, how I’ve missed this bitch.

Everyone was just as floored as me because they were all certain I was the one he liked. He comes and hangs out with me all the time and is a mega flirt. Plus he randomly bought me dinner one night. Boys really are stupid. He’s also one of the most awkward gay men I have ever met. Like what? Well… that explains why I pulled the devil card when I did a tarot reading on him. My reading was accurate even though I had no clue what it meant, and I wasn’t really willing to listen. That is one reason I hate reading for myself. I am not objective enough.

Mags is dipshit. Maybe I can break him of his workaholic nature and remind him that there’s more to life than work. Or he could just turn into my banter buddy. Though I slept with my last one while his wife was out of town. Oops. One of the worst sexual experiences ever. Though he showed me a softer side of his prickish exterior. Thats a story for another day.

I used to be the “it” girl. I was that girl all the boys loved and wanted. I was also the girl that made them realize their shortcomings. I had bonds with people that others weren’t capable of. The boy bestie and I are like that. He’s let himself be vulnerable to me. Honestly, if he wasn’t all about the dick, we would make good partners. I can also see myself raising a kid with him or living together when we are old as platonic companions. Maybe… who knows what the future holds. I do have a love for him that I don’t with most people. He’s one the few people I would call my person. I genuinely love him for him and all his flaws even when he’s acting a fool. I also let him get away with entirely too much shit and will quickly forgive him. I need us to be friends more than I ever need to be mad at him. I also need his warm hugs. He really is my Olaf. He’s also the only one I let hug me without tensing up, and I can be 100% me with him. He brings out the lighter side of me and also the catty bitch side. I will cry a lot when he leaves.

Mags is gonna have to step up his game because I am pretty sure he’s supposed to take the boy bestie position. It comes with a lot of responsibility… I whine a lot about everything, and I am an equal opportunity hater so there’s a lot that bugs me. I also have the worst luck with boys. I settle too much. I dunno.. I have yet to find one 100% worthy of my affections. Andy was close. Andy (aka him or the imposter) made me feel so alive, happy, and complete. Then the fucker decided he wasn’t worthy of me. Yes, yes he was. He just didn’t see it. He was punishing himself for cheating on his wife. I also think she had some serious blackmail on him. But in the end, he shattered the both of us. He taught me what it was like when I let my guard down enough to let someone love me. Which is one thing I never doubted… I always knew he loved me then and still does now. But well, that’s not on me. He’s the one who chose to leave. I didn’t. I was forced to let go and move on. I also was forced to endure him being a borderline stalker, watching when he can. I am pretty sure he watches me from the top floor window when I come into work. I can sense him sometimes. He also likes to watch people as they come in, and I am sure he’s figured out my routine already. Shockingly, I should be really creeped out by this… but I am not. He’s harmless compared to the others.

What comes with the territory of being me is my innate capacity to stick my foot in my mouth. I feel like such an asshole sometimes. I just kept offending a co-worker of mine- Mark. First he took something I requsted the wrong way and that was my fault because I wasn’t articulating correctly. Then I offended him when we were talking about our dating life. I really wasn’t winning, and I don’t blame him if he wanted to throat punch me that night. The ironic thing is that I actually find him super interesting. He’s that dark literary type. I am wildly attracted to his intelligence and his convictions in life. He also has these amazingly gorgeous blue eyes that are a stark contrast to all his dark features. A part of me thinks he’s hot even though he’s so not my type because he’s so skinny. However, I don’t go there because well that would just be bad given our work dynamic. But, I somehow became that bumbling idiot because I dropped my guard around him and actually care what he thinks. He doesn’t get it, neither do I. So I dunno. Though, I did find out that he cares a lot about what I think about him, but I think its because I am technically one of his bosses, but there could be more to it. To be fair, I am kind of a bitch to everyone and rarely apologize. I also will square off with my underlings and put my foot down to show who’s boss. Him, though, I am gentler and actually feel bad when I upset him. The others can all fuck right on off. Ugh.

Anyways, I have a paper to write and homework to be done. All due by tonight. Per usual, I am lacking motivation to get it done. I also can’t afford another bad grade.

Nikki

On a whim, I asked my best friend, Hilary, to accompany me on a trip to NYC. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to. I knew this would be a long shot, but I tried. It set me off, though– not so much because she couldn’t come or even that she made plans to attend an event she knew I would have wanted to go to and didn’t bother to invite me. It was just the final straw. I have been so desperate and seeking her attention that I feel like the pathetic, overly attached, vampiric friend. I fight for her attention and to just have some semblance of a friendship. I expect too much. She’s super busy with work. She’s far more of a workaholic than I have ever been, and then she has a needy and controlling husband and family. Everyone around her wants and expects her attention. Everyone wants part of her. She just can’t keep up. Plus, she’s trying to have a baby. So, I took myself out of the equation because her priorities will always be work, husband, family, and then friends. I am not that dedicated to my job despite feeling married to it. I don’t have a husband, and I dislike my family. My children are the only obligation I have that would come before anything else. In her world, I am very far down the list of priorities. I am the only one she can really say no to.

Of course, friendships wax and wane. I just miss my best friend. We used to be “thick as thieves,” as people described us, or they thought we were a couple. Now, I am lucky if she answers the phone, and she goes days before responding to my texts. Seeing each other in person is a super rare occurrence. She doesn’t need me. I need her. She is my main support person. I am just one of the many in her life. My existence, or lack thereof, isn’t going to impact her the same way it does for me. Letting go was just as hard on me as her, but it had to be done. I needed to free both of us from what came with our friendship. I was hurt and resentful and her trying and failing to be the friend she wanted to be but couldn’t. I didn’t stop caring, and my door is always open if she needs me, but I just can’t keep begging for attention and wanting a friendship that I know doesn’t exist anymore. I shed my fair share of tears too. She’s not alone in the sadness of all of this.

As I told her, it’s just better this way. The burden of me and all my drama doesn’t need to be hers. It’s mine, and she doesn’t have enough bandwidth to be the friend I need right now. I need to learn to cope so I can be fully functional again. She needs to deal with her own issues as well. She needs to come out from the hold her family and husband have on her. She doesn’t have to always be at their beck and call. She can say no to them too. She also needs to learn balance if she is going to compartmentalize her relationships. Our friendship shouldn’t be an act of rebellion against her husband and sister, who dislike and disapprove of me. But, again, at the end of the day, she has everyone she needs. I was just the icing on the cake. The frosting makes you fat; it’s not needed. She doesn’t need me. I needed her. I had to let go for both of our sake.

She did say I am moodier and angrier since coming off my mood stabilizer. However, I don’t think she realizes I am still on anti-depressants, and obviously, they are not working so well. Telling me, I need more meds just shows how far we have grown apart. I feel like she wants me to numb my moods to avoid the conflict I seem to always be in. She and most people don’t understand that moods and emotions are catalysts for change and warning signs something is wrong. Without having these coming-to-Jesus moments with myself, I can’t heal, change perspective, or alter life paths. For me, I need to break to put the pieces back together in a sturdier form. I have to break to rid of the parts I don’t need anymore. I have to break to grow.

She also said I needed more therapy. I go every week. But thank you… I realize I am not in a good place and fell on my ass again. Shit, I am essentially immortal at the moment, so even if I wanted to die, I couldn’t. I have to suck it up, figure my shit out, and move forward; I have work to do on this earth. YK is there on the other side, acting as a cock block to my crossing over. He’s probably waiting with a boombox to play that stupid song just to taunt me, so I will come back. I am not done yet. I would like a say when I am done, but like everyone else, I don’t get that luxury.

I also still harbor the resentment that she chose to figure out dinner with her husband over talking to me when YK died. Everything changed at that moment. I realized how burned out everyone was on horrible shit happening to me over and over again. Also, at that moment, I realized that her husband had control over our relationship. She doesn’t see it, but he is manipulative and likes to monopolize her time so that she is isolated. It’s no secret that we are not each other’s greatest fans. But she made a vow to him. *insert eye roll emoji here* She can do much better if you ask me. He has done some horrible things that she may have forgiven, but I won’t. I also think he bleeds her dry and is more a vampire than I will ever be. I am just an emotional mess seeking the best friend I’ve always wanted and took until my 30s to find. I can’t have the type of relationships I would like. I cling too hard and expect too much. I am just too much for everyone. I am too much for her.

My computer really needs to stop having seizures. I swear this thing came with some kind of poltergeist that likes to fuck up my writing and delete shit or open up tabs that I didn’t tell it to. This damn thing is a pain in my ass. It just tried to delete the last paragraph of this post. 2 can play this game. Well, computer, you have just earned the name Carlotta (the controlling aunt from Mayfair Witches). Okay, random rant over.

Anyways, Hilary and I very much mimic the relationship of Hilary and CC in Beaches and Tully and Kate in Firefly Lane. I am obviously more of a CC and Tully in too many ways to count. I just can’t sing, and I am not a stage performer, though I could probably host my own talk show if I wanted… other than that… we share the same wild child free spirit heart. Hilary is gun-shy and practical. That’s how my Hilary is. She’s far more grounded than I will ever be. I just hope the ending isn’t like Beaches or Firefly Lane.

Why do they always kill off the nice ones in the friendship movies? As a result, the wild one is forced to mature. It’s depressing, but then again, it’s supposed to be. Chick flicks/ shows at their finest. Hopefully our ending will be more on the Now and Then side, when we come together for the birth of her baby. I predict a boy. And for the record, I will always and forever be a Samantha. Though I am still jealous that Christina Ricci got to kiss Devon Sawa twice! Lucky bitch. If you have no idea what I am talking about, watch the movie and then watch Casper.

So back to Hilary and me, Hilary still missed the mark on what I needed when YK died. Even after she understood the magnitude, things didn’t really change. I was hoping to see more of her, or for her to make more effort to go on a trip or anything, except “I am sorry, I am here for you.” Ever since he died, I have felt more alone because no one knew what to do with me grieving over him, my job, and the boy who broke my heart. All 3 of those still hurt my heart. I still love all 3. Everyone was burned out on Nikki’s drama. YK dying was the event that tipped the scales, and everyone backed away. I also changed jobs literally 2 weeks later to the one I have now. Well.. we all see how that one is going.

Even now, Hilary is leaving it up to the professionals to fix me. I don’t need fixing… I need a tangible friendship and human affection (hell, a hug would suffice)! I don’t need to watch people around me go out and have fun together, while I am never invited along or hug all over one another then treat me like I am a cold fish. Stupid social media and even stupider coworkers who like to hang all over one another. I wish I could block everyone’s posts and just have the memes and see the random group posts I am in. Maybe I need to switch platforms because, honestly, I don’t give a shit what people are doing if I am not involved, and people need to stop with the PDA already.

Hilary did point out I am still angry all the time, and my moods keep swinging. I feel more depressed than anything. Irritability and anger are my secondary emotions. I feel zero joy. The main source of excitement that comes from me is the countdown to the kittens (which is 11 days away) and my upcoming trip to NYC (for the 2nd time in 6 months). I have a new love affair developing with New York City. More on that later. I digress.

My retort to Hilary was that I am constantly bullied at work. I am single with zero prospects. (Mags is a bratty little prick) I have very few friends, and I was forced to become an introvert, so yes, I have many reasons to be angry. Then there’s my past… I mean, really? My anger doesn’t exist for the sake of existing, there is a reason behind it. I am always angry because the world is a cruel place. I can’t just hide under a rock and pretend it’s not happening. People are mean and hateful. People go out of their way to make me feel like garbage, alienate, and harass me. So much has been taken from me. I’ve been told right now I am in the hazing phase of my current role and to square my shoulders and show them who’s boss. Those fuckers aren’t going to like it when I actually unleash the beast within. I am still trying to be friendly and not fight back. That is steadily dwindling away. But I am still in a place of fear to actually tell people what needs to be said– like I am the boss, do your job or can we act a little more professional? I am not sure when I got like that. Work is soul-crushing. Again, more later.

However, her words did strike a chord with me. She said I fully controlled my life, and no one forced me to do anything. Have I really let my life turn into what it did? I already struggle with how much I am really a victim versus how much it was my own doing. I need to ponder my thoughts on that.

For now, Hilary and I are broken up. I have my shit to figure out, and she has hers. I can’t really sugarcoat it. We are both fucked up but in different ways. I stand by my decision to back away. As much as it pains me to admit this, I do feel a sense of relief. I actually feel guilty because I feel this way. She’s not bad, and I’ll always love her, but I don’t feel a sense of desperation anymore. I don’t feel trapped in a relationship where I am begging for attention. I don’t feel like I did with my mom when I was a child anymore. I don’t feel the rejection anymore. As I told her, it’s not forever; it’s just until I can get to a place where I can accept what our friendship has become. Right now, I don’t. I still want my best friend and I want things to be like they were. Sadly, they are not and I am not coping with the change that I have been in denial about for the last year and a half.

I need a nap.

Nikki

You guessed it, its 4:20 in the morning. Why am I awake? I am supposed to be writing a paper due 2 weeks ago when I fell ill. I promised my professor I would turn in by this afternoon. Have I started it? Absolutely not. I did at least look at the shit rubric that is super vague yet needing to hit all the high points for full credit. Grad school…. such a pain in the ass. Oh, and for someone who doesn’t grade anything for weeks on end, I did not appreciate the zero he gave me on said paper when he clearly told me he would “work with me on it.” Lame. At least it’s a paper that is required by the program to pass and I have two shots at it. I assume my first one is the zero. Still… not cool, bruh.

So tonight, I go back to work. The number one less I learned in my time away, people just don’t care. Not really sure if they were never taught, or they just don’t. Our livelihood is based on caring for others. They should care. I mean, it’s expected to have empathy and compassion. Yet, it seems to just be missing. Though, when you think about it, we have the upper hand in the scenario with our clients. They are dependent on us. So, in a way, it is a powerplay. Kind of messed up when you actually think about the psychology behind what we do and how we carry ourselves. None of us have healthy relationships with others. When I took the job, I was told, “welcome to the land where we are all fucked up to some degree.” No truer of a statement has ever been made.

The three people who actually checked on my well-being (minus my boss who I will give a free pass to, she needs to know, and I do think she genuinely cares) were Alan, the bestie, and Frankie. Alan is one of my few true friends. Frankie, on the other hand– this bitch. I adore her and hate her all at the same time. I have moments when I want to slam her into a wall, kiss her, and make mad passionate love right there, and others when I want to throat punch her. She gives me the absolute most conflicting emotions I have ever felt. The ironic part is, I am pretty sure she feels the same. Just when I finally am able to shove her and my feelings into a proverbial box, she shows she gives a shit and all of it scatters about around the box it’s supposed to go in. I am sure I will see her soon enough and all those lovely conflicting emotions I have will fall right back into the box when she acts cold and stand offish towards me. Shes more scared of emotions than I am that is the one fact I am most certain of.

So now what? I go back to work tonight. I had this great and wonderful epiphany… am I actually going to change my mindset? Most likely not. I still want them to care. I still want to feel at least respected as a leader and as a person. Being well-liked is just a bonus at this point. Will I get either? We shall see…. I am not hopeful. People only want me back at work, so they don’t have to do my job and put up with the asininity that I have to on a regular from their peers. They want to go back to being shitty with the masses because they are creatures of habit and that’s what they do. I don’t envy my bosses, either of them, because they have to put up with me, my counterparts, and them. I just have them to contend with.

Well, my happy little Hallmark land I was in for the last 2 weeks has come crashing down. Lessons learned from Cassie Nightingale, be kind, trust your intuition, and love always has the chance of happening again. I decided to reintroduce myself back to secular TV with the Mayfair Witches. So far, I am hooked. Its right up there with the Interview with the Vampire series. Though, I have always been a fan of Anne Rice. She was a master at her craft. I wish I could write like her. Anyways, I digress.

The brain break was nice even though I felt like a demonic creature was inhabiting my body the whole time. My dreams are becoming more normal again, well least based some in reality and I can make sense of them again. I did dream I was dating the guy I have been flirting with for the last few weeks. He shall be named Mags for all future writing. It comes from his cure for COVID- Motrin and green socks, the scratchy wool kind. The more I get to know him, the more I realize that we are the same level of messed up. I am just a lot less broken than him. I also fear if we did get together that I would emasculate him and bring out the ugly side he tries to keep at bay with me. But who knows, maybe for once, I can turn it into a healthy relationship. My rabbits are protesting and have decided that I need to stop thinking such nonsense…

This dream- it’s worth mentioning. In it, I was doing my usual girl boss thing and helping simmer some mass chaos that erupted at work. My boss and their bosses were counting on me to help remedy the situation. At the same time, here comes Mags. We had just started dating. We were holding hands and another co-worker who actually wasn’t a real co-worker but was a former classmate of mine comes and loses shit over it. The old classmate who was embodying a co-worker was against any PDA, so hand holding was a super offense. My response was something along the lines of- this is the guy who fucked two of my boyfriends in high school, so he can go fuck right on off as I continued to lovingly hold the hand of my new beau. My brain knew exactly who he really was. The truth was in the dream. And thank you social media for distorting my dreams. I happened to see a picture of this guy sometime during the day yesterday. I wasn’t sure it was him because he doubled in size, darkened his skin tone, and very obviously had cosmetic surgery done. It was a little startling. As for his misdeed in high school… that was an affirmative, though it was not a malicious act against me personally. I found out later in life that he was one of the ones that the boys would go to if they wanted to figure out if they were gay or not. I know about one who definitively hooked up with him. I speculate about another. The one confirmed, that is really not so much a shocker that he prefers men. He was the only guy in high school who had a hard time getting and keeping an erection around me. No puns intended. I was a force to be reckoned with back then, and I was hot. I was that girl that all the boys wanted and secretly fantasized about. I was different. I also refused to date boys from my own school, just to spite everything about high school. Now, I am still different but not as hot. It’s kind of depressing.

Do I wish that Mags would finally ask me on a date? Ummmm… yes! He is the only one I can totally see doing the closing dance from TeenWitch with. Also, when I watched the Good Witch movies, something inside me felt warm and fuzzy and I thought of him as the new husband and me as Cassie. Though, I could have just had a bad case of the Hallmark feel goods from the COVID demon. But still… I could see myself with him. He’s less an emotionally stunted dunce than Frankie. That bitch….

Mags feels like home– warm and comfortable. I have no other descriptor for him. Frankie, on the other hand, sparks a flame in me that has been slowly working its way out of existence. My feelings for Frankie are much more primal in nature than Mags. Mags is obviously the much safer option of the two. I would also be Mags’s light in his darkness. Whereas Frankie and I would create our own fire and light up the world together. YK was not like either- he was different, very different. YK was the other half to my soul. No one will ever replace, be, or compare to him. But, back to Mags and Frankie…. before any of that could happen, they both have to come to the same realizations I have and be receptive to what could be. They both have to realize that they want this soul of mine. They both have to stop being afraid of living and loving. They both will have to want to be in their Finest Hour with me. (Seriously, YouTube the closing scene of TeenWitch to catch the reference.) I say both, but I really mean either of them has to come to this realization before I can go forward with either option.

Ugh now that song is stuck in my head. Changing gears, this whole time I have been sick, I have been on the manic side. I was a beast on the online ordering. I have boxes everywhere of just random shit and the cat quest became obsessive and compulsive. Mostly because I wanted something and wasn’t going to stop until I got it. The universe pumped the breaks on that action. I have to wait for 3 weeks for my little darlings to get here. I am so excited and ecstatic. They make me smile at the idea of them. My ex-husband even noticed that I finally am feeling some semblance of happiness at the idea of getting kittens. I just want a snuggly companion even if it comes with fur; humans are consistently failing me. My other cats all are traitors and either chose the outdoors to cuddle with or my ex-husband. The X, knows they are not allowed in his part of the house.

Anyways, I need to have yard sale soon to rid of all the crap I don’t actually need or is just there taking up space. And… I should probably do this essay so that I can take a nap later before work and be present for my afternoon meeting….

Nikki

Yep, still sick. Still coughing up gobs of demon goo. Eyeball still draining and red. Though, I don’t look as demonic. Maybe the COVID demon is finally growing tired of inhabiting this body. It’s been 11 days now. I should be better, but nope. The life force has been drained out of me. I should probably start breathing exercises to keep my lungs open because I feel they are trying to collapse or fill with the ick. I sleep a lot and am having some seriously wild dreams in a bizarre land. As out there as they are, sometimes I rather just stay there. Last time I was helping paint and was the only girl in a group of painter dudes. They wanted me around and gave me affection. Something I lack a lot.

Getting what killed YK is a mind fuck. I actually had it a few months after he died, but it didn’t faze me like it is now. I also wasn’t nearly as sick. I have so much fear and apprehension over it. Really, he should have been the one to live not me. He was hella nicer and people loved him. The boy was amazing. But alas, he is forever 29, and I continue to age and deal with this shit on earth. Thanks bruh.

I survived this shit twice now. 3 times if you count before COVID was a thing when I was super sick, and it was assumed to be COVID. Psychologically, there is a lot going on up in this head of mine. Survivor’s guilt, depression, apathy, hopelessness… feeling stuck. Dude, my life is a fucking crock. Everything about it blows. I am lonely. I can’t even manifest up some kittens. Here’s the current sitch with that– people just don’t respond and the ones who do are sketch as shit, or I am denied. Apparently I am not the only one who stalks petfinder.com. I have applied for more cats than jobs. There is something so wrong with this. Since when is it so hard to get a kitten?!?

Back to what’s wrong with me rant…. There’s some kind of malfunction with my existence. I bring out the worst in people. I have few friends and zero social life anymore. Reboot please! Oh, only if it were just that easy. I live in a land where people don’t know how to express emotions and instead waste their lives whining about trivial things and finding new ways to get offended by the social injustices of the world. They shut people out and shut down at the sign of any emotion that isn’t anger toward the outrage caused by the system. Yet…. so many lack the ability to cope, they just demand change with no real quantifier. They have ZERO emotional intelligence, empathy, or compassion. It’s about them and how they’ve been wronged.

My favorite line is “I am not getting paid my worth.” So, what is your worth? “I should be getting bonuses for what I have to deal with.” Yep, we all knew it was part of the job when we took it. Suck it up, buttercup. No one has yet to tell me what their worth is in dollars. The closest value is being able to live in the city on one income. Like… really? Again, your choice to live there. There is a little thing called the suburbs. The city will always be more expensive to live in.

The people I am around are soul suckers. I live in nature’s wonderland and yet the people who inhabit it are the most miserable I have ever met. They work at being introverted. Social distancing was welcomed. Me? I hated every last second of it. I hate the emotional and intellectual stunting that keeps happening. My natural wild child free spirit has been crushed and bruised. It’s morphed into the uptight bitch I have become 100% of the time. I need to escape. To where? Fuck if I know. I lost the beat to my drum. It’s been drowned out and distorted by all the nonsense that suffocates me. I stopped being me and became a victim to my surroundings.

To be fair, I have always been whiney. As YK loved to tell me, I could own my own vineyard because I whine so much. But I only whine when I care. I care too much. He knew this about me. He appreciated that about me. Now it’s not even whining… it’s the acknowledgement of defeat. Though it probably sounds like whining. Something has to change. I can’t continue as I am.

Things I need to change– how work affects me, I need to eat better, I need to lose like 40-50 pounds, I need to actually work on my house, I need to find my life rhythm again. I need to just be okay with things not being okay or in my control. I need to just let people hang themselves because eventually they all do. Just let karma do its thing. Though the universe could be nicer and help a sister out now and then. I mean not everything has to be so damn difficult and anxiety provoking… does it?

And really… why do people all of a sudden care? Ugh… and Frankie… just why? I’m not dead. But thanks for checking in. Apparently, someone does have a heart when it’s not clamped down and hiding behind the rigid walls they like to keep up. But once I go dark… RETREAT! Haha…. I should either nap, eat, or do homework and not obsess over getting a kitten.

Nikki

I seriously have no idea how I got to be so lucky to get so sick. It’s taking all my energy just to write. My palms are sweating, and I am having aversion to touch. Though, the coldness from my laptop feels nice. I am also running fever for the first time today. Needless to say, I am sick as shit. At least my face isn’t on fire.

I got an interesting call from my friend, Alan, today. Apparently, some smack has been spoken about me in the office. WTF. It involves my being sick. Like wow. I just feel like people who need to talk about others when they are down are pathetic.

I had a period of nerves, but honestly… I just don’t care. They will all hang themselves. I am too sick and too exhausted to defend myself. I am hoping my boss steps in. I feel worst for her. I can handle criticism. I am already the poisonous bitch of the office. Oh well. My counterpart went from being a self-entitled “Queen” to “mom” to now refers to herself as the “Prom Queen.” Little does she know Prom Queens usually peak in high school, and I’ve seen far too many trying to regain the crown as they age. She will fall. As everyone grows up and matures around her, she will not. I had high hopes for her, but she failed– in a very big way.

I should be more nervous about all this… but I am not. It could just be denial. It could just be because I know she went too far this time. I don’t really know. I don’t really care. I just know I am running a fever, my blood hurts, and I feel like my body will give out at any second. The amount of drama in my work setting is disgusting and disturbing. Grow the fuck up, people! I am entirely too sick for this shit. If y’all gave crap, you would know how sick I truly am.

I feel for Alan. He’s been my loyal friend throughout. I call him my twin. He’s a fantastic soul. Sometimes a little misguided and overzealous, but he cares. He cares more than most people. Unfortunately, people resent him because he’s my “favorite.” No, he’s just real and kind and I respect him as a person and friend. I don’t know where the hate comes from. Are they jealous he knows me better than they do? Are they resentful because I trust him? Or are they just that immature? Whatever the reason, it’s a sad day for them. There is more to life than throwing shade at people and basing your existence on it.

Now… my other issue… I really wish this bitch would get back to me about these little kittens I want. I mean, logistics are still an issue. I am definitely not well enough to fly down. However, I can send my stupid ex down there or my oldest. Or fate could be nice and place a pair in my lap. That would be super awesome.

Meds are kicking in… more sleep needs to happen.

Nikki

My eyes have turned red, and I am coughing up gobs of, I don’t even know what kind of slime. COVID has turned me into a fat demon! I swear I am the only one who gains weight when sick. I did this last time as well. On the upside, my face isn’t on fire anymore. It only took another trip to a different ER and more meds and tweaking home meds. I still have a long way to go before I am normal again.

I don’t really sleep. I have had Good Witch playing in the background. I kind of track my sleep by how many episodes have passed during sleep. In the last 24 hours, I’ve slept maybe 3-4 hours. I woke up because I couldn’t breathe out my nose, felt myself draining from my facial orifices, and my sinuses aching. I got a grand total of an hour of sleep in that nap.

I feel really out of sorts all the way around. I did get some schoolwork done, but I have a 6-page essay looming over me. I already talked to my instructor, and he’s aware I am not the most coherent person on the planet at the moment. So, I have some grace for now.

School isn’t what’s bothering me, though. Its work. It’s always work. I just hate it there. I resent the shit out of so many people. I try to maintain a positive attitude, and for whatever good or great comes my way that much more and multiplied shade is thrown at me. It’s exhausting. I am tired. It’s so toxic. I keep telling myself I need to persevere. It will get better. But will it? I feel like it’s something new every day. I feel like I am so much all the time. I feel like it’s never-ending. I feel alone and isolated. I feel like I don’t belong. Getting sick was maybe a wake-up call. I don’t know. I am too drained to even analyze it or fathom an alternative solution until I am done with school.

Things need to change. I am not so much convinced I need to change, but something has to. I feel like I am who I am supposed to be and doing the work I am supposed to do for this trip to the earth. I do need to stop looking for friendship here. I need to also stop wallowing in my loneliness. I need to just find comfort in being me and doing me alone. I resent and loathe the fact I have been forced to become an introvert. My heart sinks and shrivels as a result.

A friend told me that I don’t smile anymore. He is right. I don’t have much to smile for anymore. But I do like a person who does make me smile. I feel like we both bring out some light in one another in our darkness. I wish he would figure it out and ask me out already. I am not super worried about running him off though I should be. Either we will be, or we won’t. Simple as that. Friendship is fine too. He’s a fucking mess. I’m a mess. Messy can be beautiful when nurtured in the right way. Boys are stupid and slow.

Ugh, Hallmark… will you marry me? Really? A proposal as I whine about singleness. Shit. I am super single. Married to my job. I need to step back some, but I don’t know how. I feel like I am still trapped in a lousy marriage with my ex-husband. I need to redivorce him too. I need to find some kind of happiness.

This brings me to my current quest… Siamese cats. I found two I want; however, they are literally across the country and require me to fly out to get them. The current hang-ups with this plan– I am super sick and stuck in bed, and the damn people won’t get back to me! These two little creatures are the absolute most stunning babies I have ever seen. There is actually 3 and one is a little black cat, but I can’t. But how true is that? I am already a cat lady. Even though 2 are essentially barn cats. I want two, so they can love me and still have one another when I am not around. I wish these people would message me back already. It’s so frustrating. Then again, I have way too much time to obsess over it. Adopting has become quite a complicated task. Though, there is truth to my ex-husband telling me I always like a challenge when I do or obtain things. He may be right.

So, I should sleep…. more later– Nikki.

Yep, that’s right… this bitch has COVID. WTF?!? And this post is pretty dark; you’ve been warned.

So… this is what happened; I presented with a completely different problem and left with that problem semi-taken care of and the vid. I needed pain control and IV antibiotics. The pain part wasn’t exactly cured because, well…. you know… it takes time… And follow-up has to wait until I am no longer contagious, per the doc who made me ugly cry and watched me fall apart. No sleep for 48 hours, and being told I was being sent home before, I felt it was a good idea to set me off into a tear fest. The diagnosis isn’t important, but what is– health care is a disaster. Do yourself a favor and stay well. Know that the ER is its own form of a horror movie and a literal and figurative shit show. And we are all expected to fit the same mold.

The doc tried to muster up as much sympathy she possibly could as she differed in opinion with me and stuck to her plan. She didn’t want to listen. She had her mind made up and that was that. She just showed me that doctors don’t care about your story or what you know about yourself. It’s either their way or the highway. She held the power of the discharge button. It’s just one of the many reasons healthcare has become what it is. People don’t know how to empathize or listen. The whole goal was to get the infection manageable so I could get off the pain meds. Instead, I was treated like an addict because I needed something stronger than Tylenol. I was sent home to continue to pop pills to ease my pain and wait for the oral antibiotics to work.

The whole thing was just a disaster. So many breakdowns in the course of 24 hours. My name was even wrong!!! People are in such survival mode that they just don’t have the mental capacity to care. Trauma-informed care is just not a thing. Its preached, but never practiced. We all have our issues. We all react the way we do for a reason. We all need empathy and respect. We all have a need to be heard. Sometimes the patient knows better than the doctor.

Admittedly, I did freak when I realized I had what killed the Yellow Knight, and I was back at the starting point where our fates were decided. It’s super terrifying. Was it finally my time? After the calamitous encounter at the ER, I just don’t care because why should I care when no one else cares? It’s the final straw in the disaster called my life. I just realized that there is not much more to fight for. No one is ever going to care. No one respects me as a person. Everyone is in survival mode. The world is fucked. I am tired of trying and justifying why I need what I need or am what I am. Know thy self. I do! And it doesn’t matter. Nothing about my existence matters.

Just to add insult to injury, my stupid ex-husband was too tired to take me to the ER in the first place. He knows damn good and well that is not a place I want to be… ever! I was really concerned about being fatally wounded and needed help. But well… a nap mattered more. I don’t ever want to hear how much he needs me because he’s full of shit. He needs someone to be the adult because he isn’t. That part made me realize how alone I am and that I literally have no real support system. My bestie tries but fails a lot.

My fight to live is teetering between slim to none. I am just tired. Am I actively trying to end it? Am I suicidal? No, that’s not what I am saying. What I am saying is if it happens, I am not fighting to live anymore. I stopped fearing death. I stopped wanting to hold on. I have an odd peace with being done with this adventure on earth.

Prime example, I am not supposed to mix my anxiety meds with my pain meds. Cool. I can’t sleep without them. I already am not sleeping and have had periods of being awake for 48 hours or more. I finally reached a point where I didn’t care if I died because of it. I need relief and sleep; if it came at the cost of my life… so be it. That’s where I am at.

Worry not, readers… I won’t die anytime soon. Ever since the Yellow Knight died, it was made very clear that I was the chosen of the two of us to change the world. We both ended up in the ER on the same day without the other knowing. He never left the hospital, and I did. The choice of the one who was supposed to go on to do better things was me. I don’t get the luxury of just dying; he will be there to shove me back in my body and tell me to keep going. He also now has backup in the form of my grandma. So, I am stuck… miserable and immortal until my mission is complete.

As the psychology world would call it, I have a bad case of survivor’s guilt with delusions. I probably do. He was more sociable and kinder than me. He was also way more laid back, and everyone loved him. I am just an uptight bitch that everyone assumes the worst in. I am that mirror people look into and see their true and ugly selves. They don’t want to know that they are staring at their reflection, so instead, they see it in me and transfer it to me. You’d think it wouldn’t phase me by now, but it still bothers me, and I still whine about it regularly. I still feel like I borderline victim mentality when people act on it and just don’t like me for it. They don’t like themselves! I am just the scapegoat.

Just today, I was talking to my counterpart coworker about something someone did that made me not like her. Her response was “my advice is don’t bring personal feelings into work and don’t put a bounty on her head; it won’t gain any points with the rest of the team.” Like, what in the actual fuck? Seriously?!? I didn’t even ask for your advice, but thanks? I am the least vindictive person I know. I let karma do its thing the vast majority of the time. She obviously has forgotten my history or doesn’t care. I don’t treat people differently in my position of power, whether I like them or not. But, well.. integrity is something you have that no one gets to see. Apparently, I am still a monster that is out for blood– at least according to her just because I vented about how much I disliked someone and why. I don’t know why I try. She just says shitty things and completely blows everything way the hell out of proportion and fuels the belief I am a jabberwocky that needs to be slayed. But we should be friends.

Perception is reality. In most people’s reality, I am the enemy and the monster. The funny part is that I am not the actual monster; it’s them. The inner parts of them that they can’t handle. The details and insights they refuse to acknowledge about themselves. So, they say stupid, mean, and shitty things to me. They made false assumptions about me. I should stop defending myself. I should just tell them who the jabberwocky really is because it’s not me.

This whole mirror thing has always been my blessing and my curse. More curse than blessing. People are forced to see the stuff buried deep inside. I, for whatever reason, bring it to the surface. I just can’t be normal. Nope… that’s not in the cards for me.

Can I just quit yet? And there’s YK– nope not yet. You aren’t done. Fine. Whatever bruh….

Feeling defeated,
Nikki