Crippled

I am crippled 

Spiritually decaying, indefinitely

It seems I have forgotten how to Breathe 

Spiritual Alzheimer's maybe...

I have forgotten the Goodness

I am numb to the Need 

The habitual rising and falling of my chest is stunted

As the weight of Satan preys on me

Save me from my disease 

Awake me from my slumber

Heal me from my crippled living 

Remind me of what we once were 

Allow me to drink from Your well

Fill me with Your healing power 

Forgive me, your prodigal daughter 

I am crippled in need of my Savior 

Run-On Sentence

writing on my lack 

of inspiration 

does not solve my 

situation 

but rather propels me 

into oblivion

a constant state

of uninspired repetition 

or quite simply

a run-on sentence

with no punctuation

Methodical

It's hard to be supportive when your so different. When it's been a stressful day and all I want to do is drink a mimosa at 10pm topless in bed while he lays there sleeping. But of course this would be too easy. Because in all actuality, I left the light on and he can't sleep and I don't drink alcohol in the dark cause that's just depressing. I've gotta be honest, I've been a little selfish lately and it's been ugly. This is definitely not my good side, but we go through phases don't we? Some better than others. Mine, maybe more often than others. More than anything I just want to be able to walk around the house naked or in my underwear and not have to worry if his mom is going to be sitting on the couch, sulking, waiting for one of us to socialize her or invite her out on one of our dates. It's hard to see the positives in this when our date turns into an exclusive two way conversation about how the politics of education are horrible and how teaching "isn't what it used to be". Third-wheeling on my own date has never been so fun. So yeah, I've been a little on edge. Living with my mother in law isn't glamorous, nor is it ideal...at all. I miss having my own organized, and clutter free space where you can see the walls and feel clean. Ceej constantly reminds me how ungrateful and pessimistic I am about the whole living situation, never failing to make me feel unreasonable for being 25 years old and still living with a parental figure who calls every day asking about "what's for dinner?" There is not a day that goes by that I don't want to answer, "nothing is for dinner because we moved out last week, remember? Looks like your on your own!" 

Seeing the ugly yet? I know, I know, it's bad. I never thought I'd become "that" wife where I'm reluctant to have the in-law over in the future. She really is a good, wholesome person...just codependent as hell without any hobbies. 

But enough about that, anyway. I've still got a half glass of adult OJ left and I'm trying to see the glass half full. See what I did there? But seriously, life. How can I see it half full, because I truly am a glass half empty kind of girl. It's hard to appreciate the little things that bring most people joy, because when I focus on the little things I think about how irritating it is that I am always the one to replace the toilet paper roll. 

In other news, the Air Force should be great for my OCD! I can't wait to see what dysfunction it causes in our marriage as Ceej already doesn't understand my compulsion with the bedsheets and how they need to lay perfectly aligned on all sides of the bed before I get in it, or how the coffee table needs to be perfectly aligned with the living room rug. I'm telling you, I can't make this stuff up! I really am losing it the older I get, and I have so many more years to go! Oh boy! 

With a gulp or two remaining, I suppose I should send this pathetic, glass-half-empty, mother-in-law begrudger, compulsive complainer to bed. And yes, I made sure the bedsheets were all aligned before I left my lovers side and decided to drink alone. I would hardly call a mimosa a drink though, but that's besides the point. 

Dreams

I'll always have 

That one afternoon

When we locked eyes

Yours crystal blue

And you pressed your lips

Against my lips

The Cranberries played on

What a song

But I'm the only one 

Who remembers 

Because it's been forever,

And we've both moved on

My Words

My poetry isn't the same

It lacks blood flow

And you are to blame

Removed is the wind from my poetic sails 

I sit rocking, wave upon wave

Wishing I could write poetry

Like in the days that I obsessed over

Your name 

Thoughts are all that remain 

Time release memories play back to me 

It's been a while since I have lamented you

But only a minute since I have regretted you

The inspiration to my words 

I am left speechless, indefinitely

Ghostly Memory

You come sauntering into mind

Like home for you is here in my sanity

You take a lap or two 

As you walk nonchalantly through my memory

As if there were a welcome mat at my mind's door 

A grim reaper of sorts.

All because I was a whore?

You always knew how to break me,

Chew me up and regurgitate me

And so you float along

Ghosting my conscience, I dream on 

Some nights are uninterrupted 

Except for this one. 

 

17%

I've only got 17% of battery life remaining for this post, if it's any indicator of how much life I have left in myself these days. That sounded super emo, if emo was still even a thing. I think we call it hipster now? Anyways. I just wasted a percent on this introduction.

 I've been feeling a little lost lately only because its amazing how much a job can give someone identity and self purpose. My routine is completely out of whack! And if you must know, my mental health relies on monotonous routine. I've been trying to refurbish my sense of purpose lately and it's been hard, in short, it's been really hard. CJ has been lovingly supporting us with his humble paycheck every month but I can't help but feel helpless. No one offers full time work anymore in light of the new law that requires that they provide benefits. So all I've been able to muster is part time work here and there. My current job (which will remain anonymous) promised me anywhere between 20-35 hours when hiring me. Liars! I had a huge cut in my hours recently because the fully anticipated "busy" season was a flop. I'm lucky if I'm working 12 hours a week. It's become very clear to me that I need to find a new job, and yet, it is easier uttered than to become a reality.

So I workout for an hour every morning and I research the Air Force Officer Training School frequently. I study and I apply to jobs. Neither my muscles nor my job status has come to fruition yet, but I am hopeful. CJ is so loving and understanding when I tell him what's remaining in our account once I am done paying our bills. I wish I could do something to save us. I wish I could join the Air Force now, and trust me I've considered it. It makes so much sense to join now and avoid working pointless jobs until I graduate next July. We would be able to move out and get our own place on base, wherever we were stationed! CJ would be able to finish school while being supported by me and he would work as a civilian on base doing Fabrication and Welding. We could possibly even start a family, something we have always wanted to do right away. After all this dreaming subsides however, I am hit with the realities. It's a lot more complicated than it seems.

We would have to get married first and foremost, at the Courthouse. Then I would have to leave for Bootcamp for 9.5 weeks or so. Not knowing when Bootcamp would start, we would possibly have to push the wedding back, something that we simply don't want to do since we're now only 10 months out and we've put a majority of our savings into. Also, I would be going in as Enlisted as opposed to an Officer. The pay would be less and who knows when I would have time to finish my degree! Getting my degree is hugely important to me as I would be the first of my parent's three children to get their BA degree. There's so many factors that while the idea seems appealing to enlist right now, right this second...I have to tell myself that God is in control.

CJ and I will figure it out and I will find a job that makes these next few months bearable. The exciting part is I get to apply for OTS (officer training school) come September, when I am officially one year out from graduating. Hopefully I am looking at possessing a 3.5 GPA at that point since that's what it takes to be considered. A 3.0 is all I need to be able to apply.  Good things are coming, I just need the patience to see it all through, one day at a time.