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Thursday, July 30, 2015

You're not allowed to sleep when someone is dying

I thought that was the most profound statement I ever heard. Of all places to hear it, one of my trashy reality shows. She was talking about how she finally slept when her husband lost his battle with cancer. Falling asleep during the final stages couldn't happen. You didn't want to miss anything. I feel like that is my life.

We are all dying. Some just faster than others. Some, slow and painful. Some are killing themselves chasing a heaven. Some of us stand by and hope they never catch it. We don't fall asleep either. We don't ever rest. Just wait for the end and then what? Then we sleep? For how long? What happens when we wake up? What then? What will happen to those of us who waited to sleep? What if we don't want to ever wake up? Who stays awake waiting for us to die? What will they do after they finally get sleep? Is this life? Is this what it's supposed to be? Waiting to sleep. Dealing with being awake. Checking whatever blocks you need to , to be a productive citizen and not look like you're a mess? Is this everyone? Or just the severely broken-hearted? 

I wear my pain on my face after a while. I can fake "normal" for weeks and even months, but then comes the day when it just won't be ignored. Strangers on the street ask you if you're ok. Coworkers tell you "you look a mess". A kind woman read my rank and name "staff sergeant Kelly, do you need to talk"? I smiled and said "it's been a bad day. We've all been there. I'm not special". Sometimes I believe everybody feels this. But logically I know, they don't. They couldn't. A lifetime of hurt has prepared me for this devestation. You can't go from rainbows and unicorns to this. You have to build up to this. Calloused heart from years of abuse and disappointment kept me from rolling over and dying. I guess that's a positive? How sick is that?

I'm stuck here. This hurt does not serve me. I have nowhere to go. I can't cry. I can't let anyone in. Can't tell them my story. If I let myself shed one tear, I will drop to my knees and it will take a fleet of Angels to pick me up. And there's no such thing as Angels. If there were? I'd be so pissed at them for not saving us earlier. No prayers will be heard. No bargaining will me made. No begging will be acknowledged. No selling my soul because no one is buying. What steps do we take? I wish there was some kind of manual... "Things to Do to Get Back to Normal". What the fuck is "normal" anyway? If anyone knows, I would like a down and dirty brief. The Who, what, why, when & hows. 

Running to the Middle Easy hasn't made my reality disappear. Today it caught me and it will take my sleep. 

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Week 2

I'm wasting time in the coffe shop until my scheduled facial. Life is tough. I almost like it here. It's easy. I know what is expected of me and my time is my own. I just joined a running group. Yoga starts Tuesday. Ran a 10K yesterday. Still working these Internet issues. There has to be a way for me to watch cable. The bandwidth sucks and it never stops "loading". The struggle is real. 
Time is racing by. I just thought to myself... Only 8 1/2 more months to accomplish everything I want to do. I imagine most people would fell like ... Ugh 8 1/2 more months until home. I have nothing to get home to. After what I've been through, this is a much needed respite. The everyday reality is not here. My responsibilities are light. How easy would life be if this was my normal? I can isolate here and no one will notice. I can work on me without someone having a problem with it. Other than my work hours, my day is mine. No drinking so everyday is clear. I don't really like the food, so my weight is in check. I get more comfortable with my surroundings as the hours go by. Finding out just what is possible to do here and the options are so many, it's overwhelming. 
I will find my clique. Just more connections across the globe. But, I am enjoying my aloneness. I am comfortable in it. I am finding the days of my social butterfly-ness may be a thing of the past. I have head phones in my ears when nothing is playing. Like right now. I am building a wall not even giving a chance for small talk with strangers. 
Well, got to get to my appointment. Then gym. The who knows. 

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Middle Easy

Here I am. Kuwait. Not AFG. My bitch of a boss thought it best to change MY plan. What I signed up for because he is an incompetent boob and was afraid people would find out. So screw over the SSG and her plans for his benefit. Typical. Less money, less bragging rights. What does he care? So, here less than a week and ISIS strikes a Mosque about an hour away. This is not considered a combat zone. Kuwait is a peace mission. Iraq getting crazy as we expand our footprint, things are about to change. I'm not scared. Ever. Just want the benefits of being in a combat zone, not this summer camp for pussies.  Proof by me writing this while waiting for a mani/pedi. 

I have secured an area in the "real army's" JAG cell away from my idiot boss and the rest of the crew. The education and connections I get there will be invaluable. Everyone is cool, just not an ounce of goof. I prefer to surround myself with the immature. I have a few of those in my unit, but I am nowhere near them now. I am easily being forgotten. Which is good and bad. I'm not made to do bullshit details because they forgot me, but I'm also not included in cool stuff because I'm forgotten. Oh well. 2 tears in a bucket. Fuck it. 

There is a shit ton of stuff to do around here. Trying to figure it out and make a plan. I can sign out a bike tomorrow and that's freedom. I can't rely on other people wanting to do what I want. I walk to the beat of my own drummer. I may take boxing lessons, guitar, woodworking, go to college, find God, cross fit, or a public speaking class. I know I will NOT Zumba. I'm not going to waste away here. I will take advantage of everything. It's hella hot and no option of booze, but other than that? It's summer camp. There's flag football, rugby, soccer, basketball, craft nights, bingo, 1st run movies all free. Poker tournaments, trips, there's even a pool. Crazy right? This is not a deployment. I was looking forward to sacrifice in AFG. I'm still going. Not for the full 9 months, but I'll be bouncing to Iraqand AFG periodically. I'll see how the badass live and tell them I was supposed to be one of them. But  instead, now I have a biweekly facial scheduled and yoga classes to take. Ugh. Real American hero. 

Saturday, February 21, 2015

21 Feb

Stuck in on a Saturday. Freezing and snowing makes it undersirable to venture out, I made it to yoga this morning. Was supposed to run a couple miles and run errands and I didn't. I'm avoiding something I HAVE to do that is super unpleasant. Too unpleasant to address at this time. Opened a bottle of wine and I guess this will be how I spend my day. The clock is ticking on my deployment. It will be here before I know it and no matter how prepared I am, I'll not be prepared at all. I am looking forward to only worrying about surviving. Keeping my head down. Cut off from my norm. AF is a mental vaca for me. Life here will go on. My life will stand still. When I get back, I won't know where to turn. I will just have to walk off into the sun. I just need to heal and I'm not getting that opportunity here. I am such a different animal now. Need to learn who I will be. How to adjust to a life that is completely foreign to the life I've always known. Maybe I won't make it back. I am so cool with that possibility too. No more worries. No more anything except a legacy as a war hero. I'll take it. People will only say nice things after I'm gone. People who wouldn't lift a finger to show a resemblance of caring. People who I didn't like, will speak of all the good times we've had. Every asshole who abused me or stabbed me in the back will feel redemption by attending my final good byes. Fuck everybody. That should be on my tombstone. Except I've already made my arrangements. No tombstone. No anything. Maybe a funeral program with my middle finger. Appropriate. I love a handful of people. So much my heart could burst. There will be no doubt in their mind that I loved them. I know they loved me too. There will be no need to prove anything and those few will see right through any bullshit. 
Crazy, I'm speaking as if I won't come back? Oh well. One can hope. 

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Then there is that moment...

When your ex does a total douchebag thing. On Facebook. Disrespecting you. Making him look like a complete dick. In front of all your friends. So glad I took the risk of being with a someone I trusted. Lesson learned. There is no such thing as loyalty. Fuck this. 

Friday, January 2, 2015


This was a great day... Much needed. Much love. No other thoughts but fun. New Year's Day has become the favorite day. Although I didn't hang with the usual crew, I checked a another thing off the bucket list. Thanks to my good friend Joe V for making this a possibility. We danced for hours all through the streets of Philly with a sick band from New Orleans. No sadness over missing my boy. No sadness of another failed relationship. No worry for the future. I Just danced. It's a great way to start over. Thanks universe. Such a gift to be given. 

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Good news/Bad news

Who really knows? My baby is healthy and happy living at the beach. I'm standing by. Waiting for the good times. Today is better than yesterday, but tomorrow could be catastrophic. I half way breathe. Half way live. Waiting. This is my life. Didn't expect it. Didn't prepare for it. Have no escape or fix it plan. 
Today is Christmas. I spent all day by myself. I wanted it this way. I wanted to check out. One forced "Merry Christmas " call to the mother. Calls and texts with baby boy. Texts from well wishers. That's it. Good news is baby boy hit 100 days clean a couple days ago. He can never come back here. Ever. Not even for a visit. He found a new addiction. Working out. He never stepped foot in a gym until this go around. Fitness, nutrition, and overall wellness has been the focus of this recovery process. Meetings every day. Working in a swank spot. I am grateful for this gift. The anxiety is now a permanent part of me. I can't shake it. 
Went back and forth with the bf. I kept trying. Things were good sometimes and now things are very bad. As I stand now, I want absolutely no contact. Bull shit "Merry Christmas" text that went ignored. That only pissed me off. I was stupid again and funded the trip for the 2 of us to visit Michael next month. I paid airline, car rental, and hotel. Again. Not once has he ever taken me anywhere. I have paid for EVERY vaca or weekend away. I didn't even get a card for my birthday. I would like him to be completely out of my life for 2015. Should be easy. I'm going to Afghanastan. I was also stupid enough to ask him to take care of things for me while I'm gone. Even asked for an in name only marriage. There is a substantial amount of money to be made if you're married. Plus I need a power of attorney. I will not give that to a bf. Of course he said "no". Said he didn't want to lose half his shit again. WTF! I don't want what he has! Proof in how I fund everything. I don't ever want to live under the same roof. So, bottom line, he will never be what I need him to be. He is not now, has never been, nor will ever be a support system for me. I can't count on him. But for some reason, I am always disappointed when I find out this hard lesson over and over again. Einstien's theory of insanity. 
Since last I wrote, Michael got clean and just for today, he is happy, clear headed, employed, working his program, supported by a community, focussed on getting what he lost back, planning to get back in school, and taking advantage of not being in Philly. 
I have been promoted again. It's pretty rare to make it to SSG in under 5 years. Haters gonna hate, but they're just fat and lazy shit bags. So fuck em. Got recommended for this dope, preteigious gig in AF. I'm nevous not because of going to a horrible country where they hate us. Or the stir crazy boredom I'll have to endure not being allowed outside the gate for 9 months. I'm nervous because I don't know the crew I'm going with. I've never met them. What if they suck and I have no escape? Luckily, being in JAG is intimidating to peeps. So I'm hoping that will make people behave appropriately towards me. 
I had to quit my job. That was tough. I've been working on this mission for 2 1/2 years already. I built my portion. I busted my ass to get my piece to where it is. It's done. I can pass it off to anyone. I am proud of the job I did. Built it from nothing . Now it's the SOP mission wide. We did great work together. There's nothing left for me to do. 
I need change. I can't be stagnant. I have to have a challenge. I have to complete stuff that most people never will. That is my motivation. When that tour is over, Philly will no longer be home. Perfect credit, no debt, and mad $$$ in the bank? I'm putting my ass in the sand too. This time I am really ready to break up with Philly. I find little to no joy here. Bad memories cloud any good ones. If my baby can't come here, it's no longer home. It's become a place I used to live. I just wish I could take my dope crib with me.