Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness of Being Happy

I feel sorry for millenials. All true forms of art seem to be dying off with our childhood heroes. And we're not kidding anyone, we came way before the millenials. Bowie, Prince, Michael Jackson *oh yah i totally went there* everyone who has ever written a book worth reading? Dead. Except Margaret Atwood and I have some suspicions that she's actually dead pretending to be alive, I met her (she's dead).  I was looking at books at a book store the other day. They had roughly drawn stick pictures in them. I'm like this make the New York Times? *she shakes her head* and remembers she has overdue library books.

I'm as much to blame as anyone else. Everyone is like, you're a writer? Yes. You have a book? Yes. Is it hidden in some secret file on my computer that I intent to leave a letter with the instructions on how to find it with Jay for when I die? Yes.

When I get upset, I don't say, I'm feeling conflicted. I need to take some time to figure out the most positive course of action. One that will enable me and those I care for to successfully navigate this situation and ensure the best possible outcome.

I send my best a friend a text that says "FML". While I truly love the eff word deeply, I'm not using my better words anymore.

You know what's a great word? Melancholy. 

On that note, I tolerate my MBA, with only one course left after this one, I don't care anymore. I'm struggling to figure out why I cared in the first place. All that time and money. Will those three little letters after my name change anything? NO. Life doesn't care if you are smarter than someone else. The jdubs discourage education which is why I went ALL THE WAY. What I learned was I was always this smart and now I've spent so much money just to prove it to other people, who let's be honest, don't give a fuck.

Charisma, courage, passion, those are what you should do an MBA in. I'm so bored with myself, I don't know how other people even put up with me. Like let me help you with your marketing strategy, throw me a math problem I can't solve or a business I can't turn around by working your assets and assessing your balance sheets. Boring.

Today, I am definitely supposed to be writing a paper. Instead? I lure my boyfriend/manfriend/lifepartner/husband whatever you want to call him to kensignton market so I can buy sage to burn all the negative energy out of our place and get new earrings. I really just wanted to go to Blackbird Baking and Courage my Love and all the places that stole all the best names.

Then we got Vietnamese food and we're running late. So I'm like just drop me off at the market (the other market) cause Ken would would be very upset if I didn't show on a Saturday. Dudes there alone. I'm like where's Robin? She couldn't work. I've offered 17 million times to work for free on the weekends. I jump behind the cash and start ringing people in and packaging flowers. Sweep the floors and take out the garbage. Yes, I love my marketing job. Yes, I'm somewhat important. You cannot however compete for working in a flower shop for minimum wage. I was so lucky I got to do that. Coming home and your whole place smells like beauty and hope.

Some guy was saying shit about our green roses which are actually my favorite and I wanted to punch him. That's your passion, charisma and courage. But the customer is always right. I have an MBA bud. These green ish roses are amazing and by the way, I know your girlfriend and in her culture those white ones mean death and she believes it. Have fun with buying those. :)

Life is more fun when it's fun. Bur damn tomorrow I gotta stop breathing in the flowers and write that paper. Finish line is in sight. Hey, I still remember how to use my words so I'm betting on that to get me through to the other side. My massage therapist is like why do you hate yourself so much? Your body doesn't like you. You'll probably come in here next time saying you're doing your PhD. NO EFFING WAY. Thanks for looking out for me though Craig. :)

PS. I get over this, I might do my PhD, (I'm so so so sorry Jay) cause I've always thought I'd be a great therapist. But definitely a long enough break is planned where I will be the best partner and dog mom and make up for this MBA mess. 

Sullivan out.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

This is about Nothing.

well it's happened. i feel like i need to write, but i have nothing to say. not entirely true, i have lots of things to say. but there are thing i protect and won't talk about, like family and friends. unless it's positive. if you want to know who in my family has the worst secrets (and it's a toss up, spoiler alert!) you'll have to wait for the book, which will only be published after i die. :)

speaking of death, jay was amazed last night to hear i'd already planned every detail if max's funeral. hey, he's a big dog, he's not doing to live forever. i've planned my funeral, why shouldn't i plan his? his is going to be so much cuter than mine. when all you do is work and study sometimes your mind wanders.

i'm a planner. i figure i feel too much, been through too much. i'm a pisces, so whatever you feel about anything, double that, add in some drama and then double it again. if max just dropped dead they'd probably have to put me in a psych ward. he is the best thing that ever happened to me. that homeless helpless huge puppy. i always call him my love because he is. with my funeral no one is coming. (except a very small guest list, you're probably not on it and i've paid jay to get bouncers.) max though, is everyone's dog and it would be selfish of me not to share the grief this time. so i plan it now, halfway thorough his life and i get 5 years to come to peace with it. which we all know i never will but at least i'll be better prepared.

turns out, both my "kids" are almost exactly me. max is having a sleepover party tonight so i'm home alone with rosie. she kinda scares me. if max exudes the please love me, i'll do anything for you side of me, rosie is the other side of the bed. hey, i know how to stand up for myself and i've been doing it for years. that's why y'all love me right? i've done the brave honest thing till it hurt. rosie takes it one step further. i could learn a thing or two from that tiny little kitten. jay says rosies' go-to is: lick, lick, BITE. she's your friend. until she's not. then she makes you bleed. for all my friends with kids, this excludes children, she respects them and would never bite your child. please don't be afraid to come over.  

in the end, she spends a lot of time in her cage. she'll scratch until you bleed, then go pee on your bed. she'll eat your flowers just because she knows you love them more than anything else in the home. stuff you don't care about? she'll never touch it. but she WILL destroy your roses. the cage never teaches her a lesson. it's almost like she likes it in there, quiet time alone to contemplate how she'll take over the world. she becomes totally calm. it's disturbing. she is however very loving and loyal to her half-life partner (cause cats never die) max.

at the end of the day, all i can say is thank the universe i have a boyfriend / man-friend/ lover/ husband/ best friend whatever you want to call him, who would notice i was missing if i died and come find me before rosie ate half my face because i wasn't able to feed her. this whole blog is very morbid but if you were in my messed up head, you'd think it's really funny. i'm laughing :)

sullivan out.

Everything Must Go

We're coming up on my ten year anniversary. Another couple of months and that will be that.  Sex and the City always says it takes half the time you were with someone to get over them. Using that equation, I still have some time to go before being finally over the JWs.

But ten years isn't bad. I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life. I read Leah Remini's book last weekend and good on her. She's a celebrity so she can reach way more people than I can and she's getting the word out there. Cults are bad. End of story. 

This world is crazy and it's just getting crazier. Trump ... what can I say? That guy in New Zealand reveres him. What that guy did to that community? There are no words. New Zealand is right though. Love always wins over hate, eventually. Maybe we'll never get to a place where it is open and common, but there's enough of us who want to get there, we'll die trying.

I pride myself on love over hate, but I did hate the Jdubs. Hate isn't a strong enough word for how I felt. Not just for me and everyone else they've affected but for what I lost. Maybe they aren't as bad as the Scientologists but I do believe all cults are essentially the same. They use the same mind control techniques. Maybe those guys do take people into secret places and physically torture them. What the JWs do is enough mental, emotional and spiritual torture though to make you take yourself to those dark places and beat yourself to death. Literally.

What was I without them? At least Leah's family chose her over the cult. My mom, my sister, what was I without being that safe harbour for my family every time someone fucked up and needed to start over? Needed money, needed a place to live, needed someone to talk to. What was I without my purpose in life "saving" all those people who didn't know they needed Jehovah? What was I without my tall handsome husband? All my psycho morals. Without being an elders wife? Without sacrificing anything and everything I wanted to contribute to the greater good?

I'll tell you what I was. All of that stripped away? I was nothing.

Less than nothing. I was negative nothing.

I'm not even supposed to be here anymore, which is why I wake up every day so grateful for life. I had to learn an unforgettable lesson. You can take a broken, beat up heart and turn it around. Without resorting to weapons and hurting innocent people like that guy did. You're a disaster, that's on you. Maybe there were people who put you there, it's a delicate balance. I have the utmost respect for people who survive trauma and abuse. Maybe you can go through that destructive phase, or maybe you're better than that (I'm not) and don't need to. If you do go through that, hurt yourself, not other people. Even though, as I know well, when you hurt yourself you hurt the people who love you. If you're super lucky, they're still there when you turn it around and prouder of you than ever for doing that.

I care about my job, I probably have the best job now that I'll ever have. I'm almost done an MBA, but I know those things on their own are not what makes you happy on the inside. I remember the day my new life really started. I was alone for a year. When they kicked me out I had NO friends. Cults set it up that way so you can never leave. I lived with my brother that year but he's "challenged" when it comes to caring about anyone other than himself so I was alone.

One day, things changed. I went to a holiday lunch at work. I sat next to this girl who struck up a conversation. She told me later that after that, she just decided after that we were going to be friends. She's gay, so JW Margaux could never have been her friend. We're so judge-y. But I was desperate. It taught me that if someone could decide consciously to love me in the state I was in then, I had have been wrong my whole life in how I judged people. Trust me, if you're not JW and one of them is nice to you, they are trying to convert you. There are no outside friends. 

Almost nine years later besides Jay, she's still my best friend. She's my rock star, she got married and had two kids. I'm still of the opinion, if it ain't broke, don't marry it. And kids seem like a lot of work. I'll never say never though.

Her and Jay? They're both insane and decided they were going to love me before I decided I was gonna love me. I swear to the Universe, I wouldn't be here today without Liz and Jay. I was ready to give up so many times, but they wouldn't let me. The first time it was Liz, broke into my apartment and saved me from myself. Last time, it was Jay. I was so ready for it to just be over. But he looked so sad about it, even though I was so happy, that I was like fine, I'll get better then. There were lots of times between the first and the last, but that's over now.

You let everything go of everything, and magically, you finally get everything you ever wanted. So, if you ever find yourself in a similar situation to me, trust your gut and these new people you don't trust yet and hand the wheel to someone else. They will get you home safe.

By the way, I know who I am now. I'm still not the girl who hates people. I still love as much as I used to. I do however, know my boundaries. If you don't hear from me for a week cause I'm at work and studying and being alone with my dog reading books, don't take it personally. I'm good at the things I do. I'm educated now, and if any cults come knocking, I'm not interested.

I like this picture. I'm wearing the necklace my grandma got me for my birthday. I'm looking at Jay. He thinks it's the saddest thing in the world I didn't have holidays growing up in the cult and he tries to make them all so special to make up for that. I always say no cake, he always gets a cake.

Leah says in her book that people try to understand but unless you've been raised in a cult, you don't really understand. She's goddamn right. You don't. But there are people who try to understand you, that's much more work for them so appreciate it. Pray for ones we lose. Make your life matter. Let your voice be heard. Never forget, every day, we're lucky if we're still here. :)

Sullivan out.