TWD: Speculations

Of course, the question on everyone’s lips is: “Who does Negan kill?”

For those who were curious enough (me), if you look into it online in the comics then you know that Glenn is the one who gets it (gasp!!!) No way, he has survived so much already. So this is me hoping this is one of the ways AMC changes things so we’re not all mourning the coolest ex pizza delivery guy ever x_o

The Walking Dead:

(Yet. D:)

As for my own thoughts, I nominate Abraham! LOL It’s silly but I am still hatin’ on him for how he broke up with Rosita. Big jerk, he acts pretty reckless sometimes, too. I wouldn’t mind the loss of his character.

Gleggie Goodness appreciation post!

Advertisements

Mourning in 2016

What is your True Passion?

Your True Passion is Leadership

You feel most alive when you are bringing out the best in people. It brings out the best in you in return.

You love to teach others and guide them. You are very patient. Giving back is important to you.

You want to make the world a better place, and you know you can’t do it alone. You need a team supporting you.

For you, there’s nothing more satisfying than a group of people working toward a common goal. Especially if you’re leading that group.

Today I spent in mourning for my grandmother. I’m not sure why, but I was hit by some pretty strong feelings today while my fiance and I were tooling around town. I have been mentioning my grandma more often, and in a way, I figured out why today. Until today, it had been about 2 years since my last visit to her grave. As we were driving around, Jake and I had the vague plan of going to see her resting place today/tonight.
But as the hours dragged on, the plan became less and less certain and I started to get emotional. It seemed like such a hassle because Jake wanted to rent a car before we could go, and I was becoming anxious at the thought of spending more money to get to a place that just makes me sad. I remembered why I haven’t been there in so long, knowing as I did how upset I was becoming. I almost hyperventilated in the Enterprise rent a car line, getting anxious about over spending.
Jake and I are trying to save up for a down payment on a house. Every withdrawal from our savings causes me anxiety. Jake and I want a house so bad. We are growing up so well and so fast! =) I want us to take care of business. I want us to have a work out room in our new house.
Eventually, Jake and I did take the two hour trip to her grave. While I stood there at her head stone-less grave missing her, I decided to concentrate on celebrating the qualities she exemplified in life. On our way down there, Jake commented that he could help me fashion a headstone for my grandma and I was thinking about what we would put.
Karen Dee Roberts (nee White)
March 18, 1950 – October 14, 2008
Beautiful and full of grace
To Know Her Was to Love Her

Also, this week @ WORK:
MY BOSS IS OUT OF TOWN! =[ FROWNY FACE. THE AUDITOR IS IN TOWN. (=POSSIBLE DEATH IF I DON’T PASS) They may have even did our place last night, my night off!! It would be bliss if it happened when I wasn’t there, so I wouldn’t be responsible.
Things are going kind of wonky with my boss out of town. The main issues I am having to deal with is interviewing new candidates for our night audit position and the fact that this one girl wants to turn in her TWO WEEKS NOTICE while our boss is away. I’m like AAGGGHHHH Noooooooo plz don’t =[ =[ =[!
I think I am going to respectfully decline to take her notice if she does in fact give it to me like I think she plans. I think I can talk her into waiting until he returns to give it. I think Latta deserves a chance to talk with her before she does turn it in. It’s kind of sucky that she wants to jump ship while he’s away. She says she is scared to tell him, but that’s just because our boss is admittedly high strung and she’s young and immature. There will never be a good time to tell him, it will inevitably alter his mood. You just have to be an adult and have a conversation, rather than doing while he’s gone. I’m sure he will be upset about it, but more so if he returns to find out she already made a decision. (Really, I just don’t want her to because I don’t want him to think I failed to talk her out of it =/ )
Anyway, that’s all, folks! Hopefully everything goes okay. . .

Pause for Death

Hit the pause button on life when you hear the news.

I had to get into my car and call my co-worker Jackie back. I had a bad feeling about my other co-worker, Katie. Her mother had called around lunch time. I was sorry to tell her when she inquired if we had seen Katie… I had to tell her Katie hadn’t shown up for her shift two days in a row. It was very unlike her to go a no-call no-show. Her night manager that worked with her most often diligently tried to get a hold of her, and wondered incessantly what could have happened to her since all her calls went to voicemail.

Katie’s mothers voice shook when I told her news, and she started to cry on the phone. I told her to give me her number and we’d call her if we heard anything. She hung up, and later that evening after I already left the office… Jackie called to tell me they found her. She had committed suicide at her apartment.

Kerry her night manager told me he wondered if he was the last one to see her alive. She was such a bright, wonderful human being. The world will surely mourn the loss of her kind and genuinely good spirit. The other night time workers had a nickname for her “Giggles” because she was just an infectiously nice and chipper person, even when she was dog-tired. Katie worked really hard. She worked at a library besides working overnights with us and she also went to school. She fostered at least two dogs and was a really nice girl. I felt my own sorrow at her loss because I am the one that hired her. I was involved with her from the start, plucked her resume from the pile and was the one to interview her. I decided I liked her instantly and saw her potential and she reminded me of a girl who could be part of my girly crowd. She seemed nerdy, and cool, and she definitely turned out to be. We talked about Netflix series we both watched, and she was such a good person. I’m very sad that the world had to lose her. 

Rest in Peace Katie, I’m sorry… if just one helping hand extended to her would have mattered. I wish that just one person could have spoke to her and told her how much we would all miss her if she did what she did. I don’t hold it against her, if it was so hard, I am sorry… I wish I could have lessened your burden or actually took the time to befriend you enough to help. 

Deeply Disturbed Me

I had the most bizarre Fourth of July this year. Get ready for a doozey.

Most of the day went normally. I had to work because I neglected to ask off for the holiday. At the end of my 8 hrs day, I drove home around 11pm and I receive a text from my mom not to answer any phone calls from her mexican lover, Johnny. Little do I know, my mother has involved me in her traitorous attempts to fornicate with her married ex-boyfriend. She told her very passionate mexican lover that she was leaving him to go and pick me up from work since in her lie I was getting off early due to the holiday.

Her boyfriend started to blow up my phone, texting and calling and I refused to answer any of these attempts to contact me. I let my mother know she should move her activities elsewhere via text and my anxiety was beginning to rise. The next thing I know, it’s after midnight, and he is showing up at my front door after all the missed calls. I was scared to let him know I was home, so I didn’t go to the door. Suddenly, I was overcome with fear as I remembered just what a hardened criminal my mother happens to be dating. He has served time in prison for shooting a family member, he has killed before. My mother likes that he’s not a good man, she wants a bad guy, so she can have fun.

My mother is spiraling out of control in the past year. I have noticed that she is doing drugs more regularly now and drinking more often, partying and making stupid decisions one after the other. First, she started dating the married man, then she got caught shop lifting, and through her bondsman she met her mexican criminal lover from her past. They were lovers when they were teens, reconnected after all these years, and at first the story was romantic.

It turns out that he is an alcoholic, can’t get a job, and his family is crazy. They have that crazy passionate mexican disruptive energy, and it would not surprise me in the least if in the heat of passion, this man were to gun down or strangle or hurt or kill or maim my mother. I was scared shitless that night actually, my heart hammering in my chest as I considered the possibility that he might really kill my mother as he jetted away from my home in his car. My mom lives mere minutes away, I thought he might bust in on them doing the nasty at any moment! He would hurt her!

I frantically dialed my mother over and over again but she would not respond. In a frenzy, I called my Aunt at 1 in the morning to see if I should call the police or not, when my stupid ass mother finally called me back!! Ultimate relief flooded me when she told me she and Robbie were not at the house anymore! But I was still scared, thinking that Johnny would be livid anyway when she finally showed her face. I was scared for her life.

There was no one else to check on my mother. All I could do was drive over to her house in the middle of the night and hope that a fight didn’t break out. As I was driving, I was so prepared to help save my mother, I even wondered if I should have brought one of our home defense guns with me. I reasoned that if he did attack my mother, I would at least be on the scene to call the police immediately. I crept outside her windows and strained my ears for sounds that my mother was alive and well. When I glimpsed her boyfriend through one of the back windows, he looked calm enough as he sat on the couch being soothed by her lies.

I cannot forget the extreme fear I felt though, thinking he might kill my mother. It is entirely possible, and I morbidly wonder to myself when I talk to my mom on the phone now, “Are these the last words she’s ever going to say to me??” She’s being incredibly stupid, she has a death wish, she thinks she can out smart Johnny and she is playing with a loaded gun. I am terrified for my mother’s safety if ever he were to find out about her duplicitous doings. If she cannot respect him in their union, she must end it, but she isn’t inclined to do so. When I bluntly stated to her, “Fuck Robbie, he won’t even leave his wife for you, and yet you’re willing to fuckin’ die for a piece of that?? WTF?” She just laughed at me and brushed me off. She insists there’s nothing to worry about, but how can that be when it is becoming increasingly clear to me that she doesn’t give a shit about her life and doesn’t want to prolong it?

My mother wants to drown, and I can’t go under with her, trying to save her. If she won’t let me help herself, there is nothing I can do to pull her out. Her depression and drug use are worse than they ever have been before, and I just do not know what I can do to help her, short of turning her in or narcing on her to her dad for her drug abuse so he can force her to seek help. She won’t though. And now I don’t want to see any of her boyfriend’s good qualities, my mind is clouded with fear for my mother’s safety and I am afraid of him now. I don’t even want him around, I can’t sit and chill in her living room with what could be my mother’s future murderer. That’s too fucked up, and I am freaking out about my mother’s situation in life. But what can be done? Nothing, dammit. And it’s killing me.

I Ponder Some Things

Almost 6 years ago, my Grandma passed away due to diabetic complications. I had been her pet, she was my closest of kin. She was the person I loved most in this world. She was the mother and guardian that I valued above all else. When she fell ill and became hospitalized for an infection in her foot, it was I that wept by her bedside uncontrollably when we visited her at the hospital, seeing her so weak and sick. I was always the one to hug and kiss her last when the family said goodbye. When she was at home, sitting in her wheelchair and doing her best to cook and clean and take care of everyone financially even though she was falling apart, she was still doing everything for us. We were not taught to do things for ourselves- she did everything for us with all her love and not a drop of disingenuous generosity. She went without so her family could have, she was noble, sweet, and kind. The gentlest of all mothers, the most compassionate and understanding. I loved her dearly and in her wrinkled hands rested my whole world, and I was only too aware of the fact.

I’ve been doing some soul-searching lately. During her illness, my relationship with God and all that is holy became complicated. I did not and still do not understand God’s methods and quite frankly, I think the guy’s judgement is fucked. I don’t want anything to do with him much less do I think praying to him will ease the pain in my heart and the sorrow and grief that clouds my mind on a daily basis. As much as my grandmother was a good mother and woman in general, she was not happy. She was a sorrowful soul and a sensitive, emotional person. I have carried those aspects of her on, I have aligned myself with her misery and taken up her suffering. They do say pain is inevitable, suffering is optional, and that’s true. I’ve been reading the book A Woman’s Worth by Marianne Williamson and she talks a lot about “the inner goddess” which is just an acute belief in oneself. It’s a sense of holiness and spirituality and faith in oneself, because when it comes down to it, the only person in the world you can trust is yourself; you are the only one who will never leave you, the only one who truly knows what it is you desire and fear. You are the only one that should determine your path in life. We are the makers of our own destiny, it is our decisions that make us who we are. We can choose to rise above our concerns and fears. We can choose to be strong, we can choose to be positive. When you’re depressed, you spread your depression. When you are confident and in love with yourself, you inspire others around you to be more accepting of their own selves.

In a wiki-how article I read online, it was said that you are not going to give up what is making you unhappy until you have had enough of it, and not a moment before. You might want to investigate why you are so hung up or invested in this version of yourself, and while I was driving around in my car, I had the radio off to sit alone with my thoughts. Recently with my therapist, I hit upon some real truths in myself that I’ve been denying, and they are as follows;

I was 15 when my Grandma first became gravely ill, and lost her leg. She died when I was 18 years old, my freshmen year of college. For three years, I drove her back and forth to my uncle’s house where she cared painstakingly for his child. I helped her with her walker, I took her to some of her hospital and prosthetic appointments all by myself. When she fell into a diabetic comma one day, I was the one that found her passed out and sweating profusely on the couch. I am the one that took her to wal mart and helped her shop. When the electric chairs were available, I was the one walking around the store scanning the aisles for her salt and peppered head. I took her to her dialysis appointments in the mornings and dropped her off. I loved her so much my heart will never be whole again without her.

And yet, 6 years later, I am walking around with this feeling in my heart that I do not deserve love and security and happiness because she did not have them. I am punishing myself for not loving her more, for not taking better care of her when I had her. I was young, I didn’t know the extent of her sorrow, I was dumb and naive and I didn’t realize how much in my older years I would regret the lack of help I offered to her. Our whole family should have gone above and beyond for her, and we shitted out in the end, and didn’t do our most loving and gentle mother any justice. I know she loves us all still even as she turns in her grave at the state of things in all our lives. But I know she wouldn’t want me to feel this way.

I’ve been feeling like my grief is a big bully sitting on me, pushing my face into the ground and making me eat dirt. You don’t deserve love, you don’t deserve to be happy, you don’t deserve nice things. I realized that I’ve been very invested in making myself feel bad because I think I deserve to feel bad. I have been crying out for a religion, I need someone to believe in who is better than me, who will take away this pain and sorrow by releasing me of the regret and guilt I feel by forgiving me, but there is no one for me to believe in to forgive me. I have difficulty forgiving myself… I won’t say I can’t. It will just be so hard to forgive myself for my imagined slights when they feel so monstrously huge and hideous to me.

But I see now that it can be done. I see that the reason I was invested in making myself feel bad or worthless is because I was invested in being sad. I thought being sorrowful brought me closer to Granny, made me more like her, proved that I missed her the most. But I did not love her for her sorrow and her pain, and she would shake her head sadly at me trying to replicate and carry on her pain. I know she wants me to get up off my knees and stop eating dirt, stand up proud and go on. I know she knows I loved her. I know I still love her, I know her love is still inside of me. I can align myself with her in better, healthier ways that will benefit everyone instead of spreading my pain and negative attitude. I can choose to be a light, I can choose not to let these demons overpower me. I am stronger than my inner darkness. I have light within, as do we all. I can align myself with her by carrying on in her gentle spirit, the thing I loved the most, by choosing to live a life of honor, grace, and humility as she did. I have had enough of the heart of darkness, and I am moving into the light. I shall cower no more, I am more than my negativity. I can choose to be different, because different can be an improvement, and I shouldn’t be afraid to improve my life. I deserve to have a life I can be proud of, now only I must live it, and I hope you will realize your power, too.