Read at your own risk, contents are graphic and disturbing.

First and foremost, borderline personality disorder sucks ass. If I could get rid of it I would. I am sick of the bouts of depression, the constant knot in my gut, the OCD-like ticks, the anxiety over everything, and the toll that it takes on my personal relationships.

I don't know what fucking life memo I missed to end up being such a fuck up. I have a college degree that I do nothing with. I'm in a dead-end job paying for that fucking useless degree. I'm working poor and live hand-to-mouth. My credit score is closer to my IQ than something that would allow me to ever own a house or even rent a fucking apartment. I suck with money and have no willpower. And to boot, I'm overweight and hate myself but refuse to do anything about it. I give up so easily and am crushed by my lack of motivation.

Another thing that bothers me is my inability to process things like a normal fucking human being. I take a lot of things personal and am easily upset. Here's the thing, despite recognizing that, it doesn't make my emotions/pain/feelings any easier to control. So I know I'm a piece of shit and I'm just trapped in my fucking body. I'm a chore to be around and am lucky my husband is so patient.

The best part? I have to pay for shitty insurance in order to keep getting my medication. I can't afford to see the doctor without insurance. So I'm trapped in this fucking loop. The insurance cost way too much for what we get. Insurance is just a fucking scam anyways. If they just paid people a living fucking wage I'd gladly pay a private physician directly.

I literally have no identity. Or even know what the fuck that means. I think that everything I've learned in life is a big fucking lie. There is no "finding yourself". That is bullshit that serves for me to feel inadequate because I can't afford some fucking backpacking trip around Europe... or even gas to get to and from work. I'll admit I have some nice qualities. I empathize with others really well--but to a fault. I take on the anxiety/stress/sadness of others around me. And it just serves to destroy my heart and soul even more.

I just feel like I missed the fucking boat. Noah is on his ark and I'm like, "fuuuuck... I missed the boat." I can feel the rain just pour down on me and I can only float on top for so long. Now I get to watch everyone buy houses, get married, be successful, get good jobs, and somehow find some satisfaction in their lives.

I can't even find a job that matches my degree, I can't get a loan to consolidate my debts, I can't even get cleared to rent a fucking apartment because of my credit. Credit is a motherfucking load of bullshit. Why the fuck should I be judged on something that I never agreed to? I feel like a complete fuck up because I have to learn everything the hard way when it comes to money. I missed the memo on life fucking sucks so you better save up and watch yourself.

Part of my atrocious spending habits stem from my BPD. Okay, I have an excuse, but now what? How the fuck am I supposed to dig myself out of this fucking hole I've dug? Am I supposed to sit here and fight every day to keep the air in my lungs and my head above the fucking surface? Is that my lot in life? What's the fucking point?

On top of everything else, everyone in this world sucks--on a whole. My customers in every job I've ever worked give me further thought that every human is wicked by nature and they must fight to do good. They bitch and complain about the dumbest shit. They have no accountability nor take any responsibility for their actions. So why the fuck should I? I feel like the fucking lone fucking ranger trying to be a good person in a world full of shit. People murder each other over bicycles, money, greed, lust.. They steal human lives because.... because? Because they are selfish fuck holes who don't look at the whole picture. That person they stole the life from is a daughter/mother/aunt/son/nephew/unlce etc...

People are so emboldened in their own thought processes when it comes to politics and religion that I just want to fucking move to a deserted island and die alone. As Friedrich Nietzsche put it, "Convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies." People never attempt to play devil's advocate. They are just the victims of groupthink. They don't think for themselves. They listen to their parent's politics and are brainwashed and don't even know it. More than being frustrated with them, I pity the living fuck out of them. Though, Voltaire hits it spot-on when he said, "It is difficult to free fools from the chains they revere".

Now I've hit the point where all I want to do is start being honest about how I feel. I've been stuffing down/repressing all the thoughts/feelings I've had. I've been polite. All that's done is served me to get fucked over. Am I taking the high road? I don't know that it even exists. I think we are all on the same stupid fucking highway to hell. Maybe I won't arrive as quickly, but we all fucking suck as human beings.

and stuff

I can't watch shows like "The Killing". I think more about things than the normal human does. All I can think about for that show is, "sure you get to see who did it...but she's dead." Someone's daughter, sister, cousin, friend... they are gone. I know it's fictional, I get that. But it is supposed to elicit some sort of emotional reaction, right?

I watched through all but the current season of "Breaking Bad". It was really difficult to watch the human condition like that. I think that because I deal with some overwhelming shit myself, I'm less than jumping at the opportunity to watch fictional people struggle.

I don't know how I made it through "Mad Men" to this point... for some reason I am able to cope with that show. It's really well done, deals with some heavy stuff, but I think I like seeing snippets of history. It's more cathartic. 

Sometimes I wonder what my purpose is, with the enormous heart that I have. At least I've learned the lesson to not give my heart to those who don't deserve it... so why watch stuff that upsets me?

I did watch "Tiny Furniture" starring and directed by Lena Dunham. I don't know, but watching her stuff--including "Girls" on HBO puts me in a weird mood. Not necessarily a bad one, though. I guess it makes me uncomfortable that people think the strange things I do. You can tell she's raw/real in her roles. However, I do feel slightly uneasy admitting publicly that I've been in some of the situations she's been in. 

There's a fine line between art and bullshit. I guess there is the idea that everything is relative. What I may find artistic, some may find mundane. What I find blasé, may be someone's soul. I guess I just feel really lost sometimes. I guess the best I can do is just do what feels right in my heart... and to not over-think it. 

Ha.  

Curves Ahead: Take Me Out to the Ballgame

It's a beautiful view, errrr, it was. 

We were with our friends Micah and Melanie. There was tail-gaiting, football throwing, and perhaps one too many drinks had for the pregame. As we meandered our way through the throngs of people toward the entrance, we couldn't help but notice how drunk people were already.

We found our seats, Melanie had done well. The view like the one we had it was worth it. We were pretty sure we could keep our conversation PG. We took our seats and waited for the start of the game.

Paul handed me the little mini Brewer's baseball cap with cheese curds in it. I was so happy he remembered that is all I wanted and talked about before the game. I still have it sitting on my desk as I type this. We all settled in and Melanie bought a 9.00 Summer Shandy. 

About 3 innings in, I happened to look over at Micah. He was sitting somewhat upright with his head bent forward. I noticed a line of drool running from him lip down to his shirt. I sort of chuckled to myself and pointed it out to Melanie. We knew he was tired because he is a truck driver and was up super early and not running on a lot of sleep.

We pointed it out to Paul and he had a nice chuckle. We didn't think much of it until the incident during the 5th inning. Melanie had gotten another drink and I had stolen the one from Micah's hand while he caught up on sleep. Within a few minutes of ordering her beer, at least 4 security personnel showed up along the steps to our seats and two right in front of us.

They asked Melanie if we knew who he was. I explained that he was sleeping because he had a long day. They kept asking if he had anything to drink. Not just asking, demanding to know an answer like we were some sort of wanted criminals. At this point everyone around us was staring.

They told Micah that he would have to follow them and Melanie escorted him up the stairs to the deck and out of sight. Paul and I just sat there bewildered. Then people around us started asking us what was going on. I explained the situation and they could not understand why he got removed either. After a few minutes Paul and I decided to go find out what was going on.

We made it up the stairs and found Melanie and Micah. Apparently, he'd been given a warning about passing out at the game. Here's the completely stupid part, as we walked around the stadium's inner workings, we noticed about 1 out of 8 people were stupid drunk. I'm talking can't walk straight and tipping over drunk. We all wondered out loud how that was acceptable but a man who was not being obscene nor disruptive was such a nuisance.

We decided that Micah was not going to be able to stay awake and we didn't want to run the risk of getting kicked out. While finding our way to the exit, we came to the realization that we were in the family section. That explained why someone reported Micah for catching some Zzzzz's.

Ironically enough, upon exiting the stadium, we saw a guy holding a girls hair back while she heaved her alcoholic libations straight into the dumpster. On one hand we couldn't blame them wanting to keep the family section free of that sort of thing. But on the other hand, we were a little annoyed that we had to miss the rest of the game. They lost anyways.

Paul and I were a little disappointed because we were treating that as our one-year anniversary present to each other--of dating. Paul and I had only been dating for about 4 months before we got engaged. So we celebrated our 1 year anniversary AFTER we got married.

When we got back to the hotel room, all of us had a good laugh about it. We decided that the next time we watch a Brewer's game, we may try to limit our use of alcohol--or just limit our sitting in the FAMILY section. 

Curves Ahead - 3: YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!

A picture is worth a thousand words, even if it is a picture of words:

 So this was interesting... But at least my feelings are normal?

I went to my sister for a little advice. She's younger than me, but been married since October 1, 2011.  Our relationship has never been the typical older sister gives younger sister sage advice.  The age difference between us has never really mattered. I give her advice and she gives me advice. So I thought who better to go to with my frustration?

I very much enjoy her answer to my question, "oh most definitely." It allowed me to understand my own feelings and let me let go of the emotion and focus on the issues at hand.  As you can see, I described the issues we were facing.  I felt as if I were in an uphill battle.  There's Kirsten, pushing that damn ball of socks, dirty dishes, and melee up that damn hill...

After confiding in my sister I was able to talk to Paul honestly about how I felt... Not to say there isn't a funny story that precipitated it.

It was your typical night after work. Both of us were home and we decided to do Laundry Mountain.  We loaded up our laundry into the car and headed to the laundry mat.  To be honest, that experience was quite wonderful.  We got so much laundry done and folded. Despite me attempting to leave a load in the washer and leave--we laughed at spending the additional 32 mins waiting for the final load to dry.  I had put the basket in front of the washer, opened the door, then walked away.  I don't understand myself sometimes, but it was  nice we saw the humor in it.

When we got home, we decided to change the sheets on the bed.  I saw him struggling to pull the corner of the tighter fitting queen sheet over the corner of the bed.  I tried to show him the "proper" way to put sheets on.  Yes, "proper" because it is my interpretation from what I've learned in my experiences.  He sort of rolled his eyes and it annoyed me.

When got that bottom of the bed done, we did the top.  I look and see  him again struggling to pull the damn corner over the edge.  I don't exactly know what snapped inside my brain, but I had enough and just screamed, "Are you serious?! I just showed you how to put the sheet on and you're not even trying?" I'm sure there were more colorful words that went along with this conversation, but I'll leave it to your imagination. If you've ever gotten into a stupid fight with a significant other you know exactly how to fill in the blank.

Cut to Paul outside smoking a cigarette--his way of coping.  I was in the room just muttering to myself, "unbelievable" and "I just f*cking showed him.." and things to that effect.  I pulled the sheet over the final corner and started to get annoyed that he just got to walk out.  I finished making the bed and walked down the stairs to talk to him.

Of course, being that I was in the stellar mood that I was decided that my first words out of my mouth should be, "Are you ready to act like and adult now?"  Smooth move, Kirsten. Smooooooooooth.  To which he promptly turned heel and walked back down the sidewalk.  I called him back and apologized.

We walked upstairs and back to the room.  I told him that I am sorry that it seemed liked I was always critiquing everything he did.  I told him I didn't mean to come off like that.  I then decided to rationally explain that when I worked at the Hazen Inn in Phelps, I had to make beds on a daily basis.  I learned the trick to making  a bed and saving the wear and tear on the sheets on the corners.  I told him that it would mean a lot to me if he could just use that simple method of putting sheets on.

Ladies, you know what I'm talking about.  Guys tend to give it the old pull it over the edge and sometimes the point is on the corner, sometimes it isn't.  And forget about making sure it's pulled all the way down along the top! 


For those of you just dying to know my secret, I place the fitted sheet on the bed and do usually the top two corners or the bottom.  Once I get to the other half of the bed, I flip the sheet inside out on the corner and stick my hand in the point where the sheet is sewn together (that would normally rest on the corner). I then smooth out the sheet and hold it in place with that hand while using the other to pull the excess over the edge.

But coming full circle, we were able to talk like rational adults.  Then, we tried something miraculous. We discussed other little peeves while we were CALM.  What a difference.  He still leaves his sandals in the living room, but at least I know it's an honest mistake.  When you have a calm head and discuss things, it allows for a longer reaction time to statements.  Also, you don't feel as defensive and the overwhelming need to be right.. all the time.

Obviously, it doesn't mean never-ending domestic bliss from here to forever.  But it gives us a good place to start.  Day by day we are understanding each other more.  We are trying to be respectful of each others feelings, personal space, and expected level of cleanliness.

Curves Ahead --Formerly Newlywed and Scare Shitless--Numero Dos

What the hell is a budget?!

So I can't say that saving money is my forté.  I've got less than most consumers when it comes to credit card debt.  I don't exactly know what a savings account is.  Let's be honest, I live hand-to-mouth.  When I met Paul I had always told myself I would be with someone who is more fiscally responsible than me.  I ended up with the blind leading the blind.

We did budget, if by budgeting you mean a triage of what absolutely needs to get paid or we'll be in bigger trouble.  This was done every paycheck.  However, it didn't provide any relief. The only satisfaction I ever really had was knowing that I had a roof over my head and that I was doing the best I could.  The worst part is that we sort of pissed away any dime that was left and pushed the balance in our checking account down to the dollar. 

I think that the apex of our fiscal interactions with each other turned nasty when we went through the drive-thru at Hardee's. Our debit card was declined for a 13.00 purchase. I looked at him and asked him what the hell he'd spent our money on.  This escalated into a argument about how he has to be more responsible and how embarrassing it is to have a card rejected.  We decided to take a long drive down a country road to have a little privacy and calm time to discuss this.  

However, the rational talking didn't start until I grabbed the debit card and crumpled/cracked it into several pieces and said, "Now you can go to the bank like a normal person and get money!"  I know what you're thinking, classy... I instantly regretted that as I was tossing the shards of our ONE and ONLY debit card into the backseat.  I knew I had finally hit a point where it should never come to again.

After my little incident, we kept driving and starting discussing how we really need to sit down and make a real budget.  We were both making enough that it shouldn't come down to the last dime in our checking account.  I told him about the humiliation of gathering a whole cart full of groceries and having the card decline. I told him that it really bothers me and I don't want to worry about things like that.  Once we started an open dialogue, wonderful things started happening... We agreed with each other!

We decided to sit down and make a serious budget.  We looked at all our outstanding debt, bills owed, monthly expenses, and how much we ate out a month--omg shocking!  We found that we could actually set aside some in savings, budget for fun money, and still pay off our debt.  Being completely honest about our goals and what we needed to do is one thing, sticking to it will be yet to be determined.

For now, we are doing pretty well.  We've paid down debts and have been working on getting those pesky collection notices to go away.  Once we tackled those, we can start setting aside more money into savings. Nothing is currently in savings, but knowing that it can exist has alleviated so much stress in our relationship. We are not accountable to each other for our purchases. We also agreed that before any major purchase can be made, we consult each other.  Twenty dollars here and there one purchase at a time can REALLY add up to a lot at the end of the month. 

Also, this venture in fiscal responsibility has made it possible for us to look for new apartments because we know what we can afford. It's made making a grocery list easier, and healthier, by cutting down on things that we just don't eat/use.  It's not been an easy road... there have been many a rolled eye and little spats here and there.  But the one thing that has been paramount for us is acting as a unit.  We are a team.  And we have started to figure out something that can either make or break couples.  

Now here's the kicker... remember how our debit card was declined?  Yeah, I had to eat crow.  When we got back home and checked the balance in our account online, there were 20.00+ in magazine subscription renewals.  The best part about my loving partner?  He laughed with me when we discovered it was my fault.  He laughed with me.  It made it easier to laugh at myself. 

We are still a ways off from being financially stable, but we have the groundwork down and agreement that we are in this together.  We both realize that we cannot be each others enemies. We are a team.

We may be young-in-love newlyweds, but we at least are realistic.  Marriage won't be easy, because life is not easy. But if you have someone you can share the load with, do everything you can for them. 

I'm going to do this with paul someday.

Ask and you shall receive

This is why I love Toppers. I asked them to draw on my box.

Newlyweds and Scared Shitless: Edition 1

Wait, we are going to have kids someday?!

It's not like it was ever out of the question.  But sitting with our good friend Mike and listening to him talk about his twins, it really hit home.  They are five years old, a boy and girl.  His son is the spitting image of his father.  The cute blue eyes and blonde hair. Funny how kids look so innocent.

His son, who shares his namesake, was in the kitchen playing with the magnetic letters on the fridge.  Mike started talking in this almost stand-up comic rant about the joys and downfalls of children.  

"Enjoy what you have now.  There will come a time where you will buy into all the portable DVD players, toys, and other distractions so you can simply pinch a loaf in the bathroom alone.  Otherwise they stand there just asking you questions and touching you with their sticky hands--always with the sticky hands."

I sat on the couch laughing my ass off.  After his son came into to the room to tell us he spelled the word "venus" with an "i", I looked at Paul and it all hit me at once... we were going to have one of those someday.  We are going to have a combination of my weirdly creative brain and his stubbornness.  A miniature creature who will refuse to pick up his dirty socks, who will be smarter than we are, and who we are responsible to keep alive.

On that note, I informed Paul of my A-ha! moment.  He just kept laughing.  I tried to take a queue from him and laugh as Mike continued.

"...and I swear to God all that they try to do is invent new ways to kill themselves.  Every household object becomes a weapon or swift tool of doom.  'How the hell did you poke your eye out with a pillow?!'  or 'I literally turned my back for 15 seconds and you're wondering what it's like to throw yourself down the stairs!' Just know that it will be their mission early in life to invent new ways of killing themselves."

I cringed.  I am so lazy.  I would have to make sure that this thing didn't die.  It seems like an easy task but then I realized that I'd have to follow it around constantly making sure it wasn't drinking Drain-O or think they can actually fly.  Seriously, I am the type of person who will wear her hair in a ponytail to get that extra 5 minutes of sleep and skip the shower.  I got a little freaked out at the thought of not being able to half-ass parent.

"And forget about anything in your house you hold dear or have spent more than 10.00 on. They will make it their mission to destroy everything you love or hold dear." 

I started scanning around my apartment.  My collection of Star Wars collectibles, my antique mantle clock, my Windex-clean windows--free of fingerprints and smudges, and then down at the cat's automatic filtering water bowl... that Mike Jr. was hovering over.  Then yep, you guessed it, stuck his tongue in the cool stream of water.  I hushed the guys and made them look.  I laughed so hard that I needed to stop and breathe.

I started to realize that having kids, though it involves great responsibility, needs to be done with a sense of humor in mind.  Paul and I looked at each other.  We know that we will have the kid that drinks out of the cat bowl, or poops in the display toilet at Menards, or picks up the piece of dog crap off the neighbors yard to show us.  

It used to freak us out a lot more, but at least we know that we are not alone.  We still aren't ready for kids, but as Mike put it, "You're never actually ready for children. Just, one day, there they are."  

Rolling with the punches. My parent's somehow raised me.  I wonder about all the stupid things I did as a kid.  There was the time I tried to water the shrubs along the driveway with dad's watering can--the red container with yellow spout that specifically holds gasoline.  God only knows what things Paul did as a kid... 

I think that we are as ready as we'll ever be...

"When it comes down to it, nothing is more awesome than having a kid.  They change your world forever, whether you are ready or not.  It is life-changing, but totally worth it."