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Original Post:

12/24/2017.

The End
https://mondayswednesdaysfridays.org/2017/12/24/the-end/

The End is near.

It’s finally over.

I’ve made my decision and it will be complete.

My body has surrendered. I can no longer take the pain of Disability and 15 Chronic Health Problems.

I’ve observed my mind. It agrees.

My mind has witnessed my body’s pain and can no longer contain it. It’s torture and cruel.

There is no more fighting against the pain.

There will never be change.

The question, what does it all mean?

There is no answer.

I have had let go of that concept a long time ago.

Suffering is all I’ve ever known.

And I have lived twenty years past my first death, and my body just continued to disintegrate.

Now, in Disability, and loss of all Financial Support, there is no acceptance nor hearts that care.

I have nothing left to give and I’m tired of everything being taken.

My time here is now complete.

No Goodbyes.

It just is.

Monday Design

8:23 ante meridiem.

Like clock work.

No pun intended, just exhaustion and overwhelmed.

Financial Hell.

I didn’t think it couldn’t get any worse, but it has.

Still missing two Paychecks(that equal $164.00), and now for the first time in 2 years, I don’t have Cat Litter.

When my body woke my mind this Monday morning, My Cat Leo was sleeping next to me but further down ontop of the permanent clothes that lie in the middle of the bed (at the foot of the bed to be precise).

I thought to myself,

He and my other Cat are all I have left and they don’t have litter. *(The last box was used yesterday evening when I went on a Cleaning Spree).

It’s not fair to them or to me.

Every Morning since we moved here, Leo is sleeping in some form on the bed. *(There have been a hand full of times these past two months, when I open my eyes he isn’t there and I panic as if he’s flown away. Only to look over out the bedroom door, and he’s sleeping on the Couch/Heavy Duty Futon).

This is a new “thing” he does.

Before, he would find his way next to me and I would wake to a warm cat pressed so tight against me, but not every night.

Since the move,

It’s as if he’s lonely, unsure, scared.

He is still so traumatized by any noises in the rented house (familiar/unfamiliar).

He won’t venture into my Home Office (where my other Cat spends most of his time), and he’s practically with me 24/7 (even when I’m Educating).

So, to think that I cannot provide Litter is a feeling of defeat.

I’m tired of it.

Why?

And just as I start to write, a heavy knock on the front door. *(Both of my Cats are still so severely distressed when they hear that sound due to when the Plano Police Department knocked down my front door with a battering ram).

A Man in Business Attire *(Black car parked out front) hand Delivers a $50.00 Grocery Gift Card.

Why?

When I was an avid shopper at this particular Store, I was treated poorly *(going back to October).

So, the Customer Care/Education Manager stepped in and for the last week was trying to solve the problem.

Now, I can buy my Cats Litter.

They are all I have.

My two boys.

Halloween 2017.

The Dream Circle Volume 2

It was all haunting me.

So, with my KGB Training, I came across a very recent photo of Him.

The one who “Got-Away.”

In the photo, I recognized him, those eyes. He looks the same after all these years.

His Wife, looks older, but is the same age as he is (both will be 37).

He is very successful *(just like He told me on our walks, why he was Minoring in Marketing and would never be a serious Writer).

I knew they had a child.

He looks just like his Wife, Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes.

The one fact of unknown information was that she attended the same College we did during the same time frame.

Hmmmm.

That bothered me.

Did they know eachother then?

Is this why he acted the way he did with me for two years?

She is very much his type. *At least she was an Educator for a short time.

So, I take my memories and burn them.

It means nothing, especially if they were cultivating their future relationship then.

Why am I surprised?

Everyone I have ever known has either lied, hurt, or left.

I used to think that those special memories were important to hold onto.

Why?

It’s not like him and I will have coffee someday and chit-chat about the past or what we’ve become.

He got what he always wanted.

Good Luck to him and his life.

And, I know now, I never cross his path in dreams.

Dedicated to the two years we danced and ended no where.

Just shadows of what was.

Sandman Once Removed

I am so empty, today.

People who are always taking care of their health are like misers who are hoarding a treasure which they have never spirit enough to enjoy.” Laurence Sterne

I found that quote exactly five years ago today.

Always the same.

As I wait for my 10:00a.m Class to begin (Student is late), I try to focus, recall what happened to me this past Friday.*VERY bad (Medical) News.

But, with so much Medication coarsing through my liver, I’m at best half-dead.

I saw 6:21a.m on my Mobile as I was in a deep, underground kind of sleep. I thought I had missed the entire day.

My Student was a ‘No-Show,’ and I don’t Teach again for another 5.5 Hours *(Sundays were my back-to-back Teaching Days. Sometimes, up to 7 Hours on Sundays).

Return to this early morning.

The room, semi-cold, the smell of a dirty catbox, and dehydration.

Good Morning!

As I pour myself a glass(my Sugar Skull Glass was ice cold. Mine are also really from Mexico. A gift from my Mother) of Simply Lemonade (it’s been making me ill again), I start dishes, and try to figure out my Plan for today.

I am so tranquilized from Meds and Stress, I’m stumbling to get from point A to point B.*(I could barely put everything away in the refrigerator).

But, I knew I had to Educate, so I get in my head and prepare no matter how much pain I’m in.

As I begin my Work Routine, my Dreams are still playing.

Strange images of real people and places.

My Father.

I never dream about my Father.

But, we were living at the House of Horrors (that place is a blueprint in sleep).

But, it was present time, and I was taking out the garbage, but the garbage bin I have here *(It’s the smallest City Container I’ve ever seen/used, thirteen Gallons).

And A girl I knew in Highschool and worked at the Science Lab with my Junior Year (her Sophomore year) was there.

The lawn needed to be cut, as I was wheeling out the baby garbage bin. I could hear my Father talking to my Friend, in good spirits.

It seems as if my Father was going to be repairing/remodeling work on the HOH, and he wanted my assistance (as he did in waking life when I was a young girl).

Something interrupted my R.E.M Cycle as the clock continued

6:21a.m

7:15a.m

8:42a.m

9:13a.m.

This discontinue of time occurs every morning.

Now, that I look back, (as an Adult), since 2015, Post Disability.

I suffer from Insomnia (since childhood), but I would go through cycles, some worse than others.

Since July 2016, it’s never stopped, the continuous waking and fast sleeping.

It’s exhausting.

Now, I just want to close my eyes and sleep until my next Class, so I will have the Strenght to Clean: Vacuum, more Dishes, and Catbox. *(I’m HOPING no shoveling. Let the warmer weather today melt it all away).

Strange, I was going through photographs on my Mobile, and I found a collection from September 23, 2016.

I was visiting my Parents.

The light, once again, gone from me eyes. I can see the pain.

I know why, and I attribute many changes within myself and with others due to the circumstances of what happened that September.

The Photograph in particular:

Debilitation

Sorrow

Empty.

It’s 13 past, I have to take my Disability Medication.

The Dream Circle

Open then close my eyes was the distraction this early grey Saturday Morning.

I forced myself to finally stir in pain as my alarm was chirping. Duty Calls, must Educate.

But, first, I have to lie here and recollect everything I just dreamt.

Him.

The one that “Got Away.”

M. Suleymanov.

One of the most beautiful men I have ever met/wrote/kissed//danced with.

We met January 15, 2002, ENG. 285 Creative Writing/Fiction.

The first day of the 2002 Spring Semester was especially bright in my Anorexic Darkness when I saw him.

The Class was in our English Building (Circa 1939). The Professor arranged the deskchairs in a half circle.

He was to the left from me five seats down.

As weeks past and January ended into an unknown February, I knew I was not his “type.”

I saw him four times a week (Tues & Thurs ENG 285), and I was on-fire everytime I saw his brown eyes, dark hair, leather bomber jacket, and backwards cap.

Two Words: James Dean.

And that name, Suleymanov.

I usually date/dated Latinos,

But someone from my Arena?

Come to find out

He is First-Generation American.

His Father, Bulgarian.

His Mother, Italian.

He definitely had Bulgarian attributes.

Those eyes.

By March, not a single word was passed between us.

*(We Also had another Class together, ENG. 199: Introduction to Studies of English).

But, all that would change with one phone call.

ENG. 285. Our Manuscripts were being evaluated by our peers (apart of being a Writer).

And this was a particular Manuscript, written by the President of the Soriety, Delta Zeta aka DZs.

Her Manuscript was Non-fiction (only her and I got permission from the Professor to Write Non-fiction).

She wrote about having Type I Diabetes and being so sick as a kid.

The undertone was “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Here’s this skinny, Blonde, Bubbly, Soriety Chic who in fact has to take Insulin to survive, stay alive.

I called her after that Class and wanted to thank her for sharing her Story and we ended up just talking. Her gratitude towards my Phone Call was pleasant, so I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask about Him.

Me: So, is he dating your friend? *(Blonde chic that sat next to her, also Vice Present of Delta Zeta).

Her: omg…..Nooooo. Just Friends. Why do you ask?

Me: I think he’s beautiful.

Her: omg, he talks about you everyday.

Ok. I’m thinking she’s using a Soriety tatic to make me feel better about myself.

No sweetheart, I’m a Pimp.

Me: Really? Why?

Her: omg he’s in love with you. He says everyday how beautiful you are.

At this point, I’m ready to hang up on Miss Pretty in Pink.

Me: Seriously? I don’t believe it. *(He was only surrounded by Blondes).

Her: Yes. Do you like him?

Me: Yes.

Her: omg I’m going to talk to him tonight!!!

And she did.

After we hung up, I heard the first 15 seconds of “Waiting for a Girl Like You” loop in my head. *(It’s that 15 second fantastical mixture of keyboards and synthesizers).

I lied on my College Dorm Twin Bed, Tie Dyed Comforter with matching Sheets *(and the infamous Purple Blanket) neatly folded at the foot of the elongated bed.

I couldn’t believe it.

This guy, likes Me?

Impossible.

I’m not his type. Not even a runner-up.

He must have been listening to 4 too *(The Album with the track “Waiting for a Girl Like You” on it) because the very next day he spoke to me.

He spoke to me as if he had been waiting his entire life to meet someone like me.

This is no Ego monologue.

The intensity between us was felt by others around/in-between our beings.

We walked together after Class that day, just sharing pieces of what was to become.

He told me about his Heritage, where he grew up, why he was an English Major with a Marketing Minor, a former Frat Guy. *(By the way, he was a brilliant Poet).

He then goes on to tell me that he couldn’t believe when Tiffany (Miss Pretty in Pink) told him I liked him.

After our ENG. 285 and ENG. 199 Classes, we would walk together, just talking.

We definitely didn’t run in the same circles, do we decided when we should spend time together.

That wouldn’t happen for another year.

But, one of our defining moments as two people so infatuated with eachother, but too damn stubborn to do anything about it happened in ENG. 199.

We had to give Group Presentations on the Film:

Bram Stoker’s Dracula by Francis Ford Coppola.

His Group was preparing their Presentation *(God, he was wearing this collared white dress shirt, jeans, and black shoes) and he said:

“Don’t look at me, you make me nervous.”

He was dead serious.

There were three others in his Group, a Girl I had be-friended (still to this day) and she noticed his nerves, his behavior change.

Here is this gorgeous, smart, extrovert, who is crumbling in-front of the Class.

He barely made it through his Group’s entire Presentation.

As he walked by to take his deskchair, he grabbed my hand.

Everyone saw, starring and it’s as if the room shook with passion. People were moved.

Christine (the girl in his Group/my friend), grabbed me after Class and said “What was that? Are you two together?!” (That’s how good looking he was).

I just smiled. Then to her surprise

Me: No.

This dance him and I did lasted until I Graduated.

Seeing him out with his friends (me with mine) and him and I are just staring at eachother with so much emotion, it killed me.

If he is attracted to me, likes me, what the hell is the Problem.

I would come to find out

He’s afraid of me.

“I date these Blondes. They’re dumb, easy. With you, you scare me. With your мвд Patch and what you talk about in Class.”

As each Semester ran out of time, I had to distance myself. If he doesn’t have the courage, what it takes to ask me out, then fuck it.

Our last encounter was at my favorite Club in College (I was surprised to see him there, not his “scene”).

He was drunk, but functioning.

We went to the dance floor after my best-friend at the time said Who the fuck is that?!

Me: That’s him.

Her(Natasha): omg. Girl, you’re right, he’s so fine.

He had on a white short sleeve cashmere sweater (fitted) and great jeans.

We were sort-of dancing together as he kept saying “Let’s talk about me”

It didn’t bother me. I knew he was blasted.

Then he kissed me.

Time stopped. Those 15 seconds of that song played (in my head), we both weren’t moving. As if we were together in a previous life, and this was our single moment in this one.

I know he felt it too.

He called me and asked me to go to California with him.

I said no.

We argued about it.

I Graduated. Never to see him again.

Now, he just enters my dreams.

And this dream emulated every fragment between him and I.

*He is working in Finance *(to why the Minor in Marketing). He is married (to a Blonde) and has a child.

I wonder if his dreams cross paths with me.

Irrational Reality

Too early for twilight.

9:55 post meridiem.

Feeling a hazy cloud trying to smother my mind so it can sleep.

Anxiety.

I’m still Missing two Paychecks (that only equal $164.00), but I dangerously need the money.

Not only is my Health at risk, but now I can’t afford Litter for my two Cats.

No one cares enough to help, so in Disability, I have to figure out a way to survive.

What kind of being is this?

I just want my Medication to kick in, so I can drift away for 2 hours (like last night) then 3 more, only to wake sick to my stomach and functioning like a fucking zombie.

I have to be awake in the early a.m for a Sub. Class, then a Meeting, then to see my Doctor due to my continuously bleeding colon and now nasal cavity (and find my Chest X-Ray Results) then try to gather some sort of Assitance, then Teach again at 4:00p.m.

That means driving.

I drove today for thirty minutes, barely making it back.

Tomorrow is another thirty minutes, in addition to walking/standing.

I’m going to collapse again as I did x3 two nights back.

At least my used Book arrived (Amazon Credit), for my Special Day.

I’ll Scream Someday by Marlee Matlin.

The used Hardcover arrived yesterday, and I’ve already ready Nine Chapters.

So far, it’s a marvelous read. *(Shocking since I don’t do Autobiographies).

I read Seven Chapters straight last night, then two tonight *(I wasn’t feeling well).

I will definitely try to finish it this Weekend.

I hear Jimi Hendrix’s “The Wind Cries Mary.”

But, there is no music.

Maybe sleep is coming fast and I want it to stay. And when I open my eyes, I want my life back.

The Anti-Valentine

I open my eyes, 9:01 ante meridiem.

Wow, it’s past 8 in the morning?

*I usually fall asleep after 2:00a.m

Last night was epic.

My filthy, stealing, vulgar neighbors finally moved, I taught Three Classes (spread out from morning to evening/Three Cancellations as well), Drove(awful) and Collapsed in store.

Made it home (barely), unloaded what was needed, tried to clean/straighten up, Collapsed again, and again. *I was able to eat. I managed two Microwave 3 Corn Tortillas with a few slices of Store Brand Mozzarella.

I did conclude the evening by watching a few Episodes of one of my favorite Television Shows(via Roku), and watch about 35 minutes of Children of a Lesser God. *(I purchased Marlee Matlin’s Autobiography I’ll Scream Later, so I wanted to get more of an aspect of Character versus Reality (I have never purchased an Autobiography. I’m a Beat. Not my style).

The (Used) Book will be delivered today. Hardback (What I prefer if reading material like this).

This purchase was intended for my Special Day yesterday. Since I can no longer go out treat myself (Pedicures was usually the choice), I decided on this Book.

It happens so, I will receive it on Valentine’s Day.

I wrote this

February 14, 2015 on my Social Media Page:

These Last 3 Years Being Without My S.O(& his behavior toward me) & True Friendship, I’ve Learned Alot About Life, Friendship, & Love.
I’ve Learned That Love Is A Bare Emotion That Only Fulfills A Temporary Space.
“I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made love up inside my head.)”
Sylvia Plath

Still holds true.

God, to think how many Valentine’s Days passed by and nothing from my Ex-Husband. *Not even when we were living together.

Funny, I had to reply to a few emails, and I looked at my Folders and I had not opened the Folder titled my Ex-Husband’s first name since 2015.

The last email from that account was

March 12, 2015. I bought him an 8 Piece Pot/Pan Set. *(18 Days Later, I would become Disabled).

I bought the Cookware Online and had it sent to the closest store in his State, so he didn’t have any trouble picking it up.

I completely forgot I did that for him.

This is after he stopped speaking to me for six months. And the awful and condescending texts I received regarding how I can’t work because I am too sick *(Staphylococcus Infection that was one of the major causes of my Disability).

In the 10.5 Years we were Married, he never once celebrated Valentine’s Day.

2007, I on crutches, created a beautiful livingroom picnic and bought him Skechers.

2008, I was living/working in China.

2009, He was Deployed to Iraq (again).

2010, Nothing. And I had just had Surgery and was very ill.

2011, He was Deployed in Afghanistan.

2012, The beginning of Us not living together. He was Stationed in Hawaii from 2012-2014.

But, I acknowledged every single Holiday that mattered even when we were living apart until 2014 when he stopped speaking to me.

But, look, I sent him Cookware after six months of silence.

What does that say?

I wanted to work things out, even after all the tragedy.

Now that I reflect, the last time I got a true Valentine’s Day anything, I was in Fourth Grade (Highschool Boyfriend doesn’t count. Abuse, Rape, murder of Son, doesn’t vanish with a Valentine’s Day gift[flowers with a little bear] left in my parents bushes).

Fourth Grade. Kind of pathetic(in the sense that was the last genuine Valentine’s Day I experienced). *He was my Boyfriend, Kevin. He gave me a Teddy Bear and a Heart Shaped box of Chocolates. We were nine.

I remembered when I brought my gifts home, and my Mother was in complete awe and panic.

Don’t worry Mother, no one will ever care as much again.

So, today is like any other day.

Happy Valentine’s Day.