I NEED Help...

There. I said it.

That's probably one of the hardest things for me. Asking for help. Angela always finds a way. Until she can't. Until she's so overwhelmed that she can't even begin. This is a horrible, horrible, helpless feeling that I can't squash.

I haven't added anything to my happiness jar since January. Is that really the last time I enjoyed myself, or my life, or had hope? I have faith that is not true. I hope...

What makes asking for help so difficult? I see people do it every day. I see people just give up and let someone pick them up and help them. I can't let myself get to that point no matter how much it hurts. I think I'm mostly just scared that no one will be there when I hit bottom. That would probably be the largest hurdle for me. Fear. Fear that I'm not as important to them as they are to me.

I expect too much and trust without regard. Damn me. And...it's never a good time. Someone else needs me more than I need them. At least that's what I tell myself. My problems aren't unique, people deal with them every day. The difference, I think, is that they can ask for help. They don't consider themselves alone, as I do.

That's likely a major factor in this funk that I find myself stuck in. I am lonely. I'm incredibly lonely. That is something I have never in my life admitted to anyone. Consider yourselves lucky! Am I lonely as a result of being overwhelmed or am I overwhelmed because I feel lonely. Who knows. Does it really matter? The issue is that I'm not taking care of myself. Physically or mentally. I've come home from work on a Friday and not gotten out of my pajamas until Monday morning.

No one knew.

I have to learn to ask for help. I have to be comfortable calling a friend and asking them to come spend some time with me. Just sit on the couch so I'm not alone.

By the way...if it weren't for Sovann (The Pork Chop), O'Malley (The Ball of Anxiety), and Chunky Butt (self-explanatory), I'd be nothing. Some days they are the only reason I wake up.

Pity party over. I needed a release. I won't share this post. Maybe no one will ever read it. That's okay. I needed to say it to someone, even if that someone is my HP laptop. I'll read this tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. My hope is that every day here after I feel a little better and this post will seem more and more ridiculous. Hey, I could delete it before anyone ever knows that I opened up like this. Then I'll still be the hard-headed, get-it-done, I can handle it Angela that they all think I am.

It WILL get better.

If you DO read this...I wish you peace, happiness, and the freedom to ask for help when you need it.

xoxo

Unapologetic Dreamer

Anyone watch the Showtime series Shameless? If not, then stop reading this blog and go watch it. NOW. It's for adult audiences only, it's abrasive, it's mostly absurd, but it'll make you feel better about your own shitty problems. In one particular episode oldest sibling, Fiona, is risking money to try and make a new career start. She fails. Pretty horribly, she finds out later. Younger brother, Lip (short for Phillip), tells her like it is when you're living below poverty with a runaway mother and a non-functioning alcoholic father and barely making it in south side Chicago. He says when you're poor the only way to make money is to steal it or scam it. Granted, everyone on this show that takes a step forward is knocked back at least 3. What's the harm in dreaming though? Come on Lip, give Fiona a break, at least she is trying.

I have high standards for myself, and big expectations. I've started down many paths. So far, none leading to fruition. But you know what? No matter how many times I get knocked down I'm gonna jump up and try again. Seems like lately the Universe doesn't want me to succeed at anything. Yeah, that's a little dramatic. I'm having a hard time and this is my blog, so while I'm writing here I'm permitted to be drastic. Bear with me for a minute or two.

I'm an unapologetic dreamer.

I won't accept that this is the way things will always be. I have dreams, I don't care how old I am either, I'll keep making them. They say bucket lists just serve as a reminder of what we won't ever be able to do. I disagree. I may not ever get to mark that many items off my list, but the excitement of adding another thing that I can dream of is enough for me.

I'm an unapologetic dreamer.

Maybe I have horrible timing. Maybe I don't give enough. Maybe it's just not meant to be.

Who knows why things don't work out.

I'm an unapologetic dreamer.

Here is a list of a few dreams that I'll continue to be unapologetic about:

• Traveling the world  (regardless of my financial status)
• Pursuing degree after degree (learning will never be time wasted, and I don't yet know what I want to be)
• Saving pit bulls (and fostering more once I get my own trained well enough to be an ambassador)
• Writing (creatively, professionally, whatever...I like it)
• Being the kind of friend people can't imagine life without (even if it means never putting myself first)
• Tattoos ( I want lots, I think they are beautiful and I want to express myself through body art. Plus, I want to meet a hot tatted up guy, so I should probably get a few more first so they notice me!)
• Leading a fit and healthy lifestyle (I hate exercising and I eat for emotional comfort. I had an enormous cupcake for dinner tonight - FAIL)

The moral of this story for me is this: I won't accept that things are the way they are. If I never succeed at any of these things at least I'll have had a smashing good time trying, despite the Universe or whatever force that keeps brake checking me. 

My dreams make me who I am, my reality does not define me.

I'm an unapologetic dreamer.