Unnecessary Anger?

Often, I find myself seething with anger. And I began to realize I’m angry over the same damn things. I keep letting things get to me, that if I on the other hand, let go, my days would be easier and I could move along more smoothly in my life. Sometimes I think my anger is justified, how else would the person know how I feel if I don’t express it? Shouldn’t they know by now that they’re’ ticking me the *honk* off? OR maybe thats their plan. I keep following into these little bunny holes that I can’t dig out of even though their only two feet deep/ My legs get stuck and my brain is urging them to move away from the dirty remarks and just pull myself out of the cycle of incompetence that I not only participate in, I sometimes start. But i can’t. Or maybe it’s more that I won’t. I’m so use to the yelling and screaming, and the small horrid events that if I don’t get angry, I’m just apart of it, it is me as I witness and participate because I haven’t gotten myself out of the situation. And I know it’ll will not only get worse, but make me a worse person.

On the other hand, I like the whirlwind of angry frustration, it’s been my life for 23 years (as of yesterday). It’s all I know, even though it’s one of the factors that pushed me over the edge in what feels like a previous life. I continue to participate in it because it’s the only way I know how to be around them. It’s all I ever am around them. So the solution to the problem is that I have to be different. When they spout words of hate and sprinkle me with their own insecurities, I fight back with a flourish of unjustified (by my own moral standards) cruelty. Putting me on their level, and taking me out of the realm I need to be in to progress as a person. I can feel the change surging within me but thats as far as it goes. A little electricity that powers throughout me only showing itself when I have the courage to manage it.

I know the changes that need to be made, I think we all know how to change ourselves for the better, for the most part. But I’m afraid, I’ve been in this place, with these people for so long. How can I turn my back, even if I know thats the only way for me. How do you rid yourself if the poison you willingly drink. I’m not perfect, nowadays I’ll bring the hell I receive just as strong, when before I shied and cried myself away from stressful situations. Now I jump fully in to it and won’t stop until I push them as far as I believe they pushed me, even if its just in my head. Its an uncontrollable fire, that I don’t want to lose, because I like it now. I rather feel powerful while I’m angry then weak when I cry. I think thats the most reasons why people rather yell than confront things honestly and calmly. Calmness shows control as well, but anger is easily accessible. And always at the tip of the pistol. I rather shot the gun than have the gun shot at me. I basically want to feel some type of control of not only myself but the situations presented to me.

I am going to start exploring better avenues to smother my angry, I really am. I can’t live this person’s life anymore. I need a new one. I’m going to begin by letting things go, as soon as they start instead of indulging in it. That’s the first step, but I feel like fool when I give in.  But I think it’s the fool that plays the game, while everyone else is just fighting to win. I’m going to play the game of life, because I’m going to lose this game some day and I want to remember that I changed when I had the chance, instead of crying and shying away.

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Too young, too old

The worst thing than living at home with your mother, is living at home with your mother, and being pregnant. Not only do I have to live with the fact that I’m going to be a single mother, is that I have to live at home with my single mother and hear all the reasons why I shouldn’t keep adding to my own “Shoulda list”. I shoulda stayed with the good man, I shoulda finished college, I shoulda taken that wealthy German on his offer to take me home and treat me like a queen…. Well not the last part, but a Suga Daddy is looking kind of good right now. I’ll admit, I’m getting desperate looking for ways to establish my individuality financially while considering being able to take care of myself and my daughter in everything we may need.

I recently began a vigourous search of earning passive and active income all via the internet (you know since my daughter will be arriving in eight weeks and will probably want all my attention, idk just guessing). My search has come back with a surprising about of information. I honestly found enough information to earn me enough to buy gas for three days, Whopeeeee. Lol Well, I found a lot beyond that too, like Mturk with Amazon (A legitimate way to earn pocket change [MEAN THIS LITERALLY, but I’ve earned about… checking right now…  $27.19 with the ten days I’ve been on Amazon Turk] by taking fun and interesting surveys, making small responses to questions, doing google searches etc.) and creating a blog and adding Adsense to it (this is my second post, if I’m liked this might work out too). Then it went beyond that to making money reviewing music (slicethepie.com), making ebooks (still researching but found a like on stevepavilina.com which helps jumpstart this endeavor as well as smartpassiveincome.com where you get a free ebook for joining Pat Flyn’s newsletter) basically theres a wealth of information on side money adventures people can take on. So, I’m trying to get motivated to take some of these on full time and with all my heart. With anything you do and plan to succeed with, you have to use your entire heart, its just plain and simple. If you half ass anything, you’ll get half ass results. I’m trying to go beyond that and actually create a source of income that can financially take care of me and my kicking baby. SO, i need my full heart, but I’m stuck in half-hearted mode unfortunately. But my moms yelling about my internet usage does put me in the mind frame to get the, you know what and you know what, outta here. Which is why I’ve earned myself a little time in a concentration bubble to try to take on one of these endeavors with a focused mind frame of intent. Which will began now. I just thought I’d write a bit of the frustration out. Until the next time

My Beginning

I think about the stories I’ve heard, from my mother, my aunts, my sister and friends, about the moment they found out they were pregnant. Most were in shock, or bubbling with excitement even if their situations weren’t the ideal American Dream. But none ever told me that they were sad, like I was. I considered my options just like everybody else when I found out I was pregnant. I just knew that when I found out I get to create a mini-me in a male or female version, I’d get excited, happy, probably do a few embarrassing dances. I’d even say from time to time I’d feel my uterus give a little jiggle jaggle of joy at the thought of it.

No matter what whacked out mood I’m in, if a child enters a room I want to revert back and just play with them. Children are amazing, their disappointment lasts all of two minutes and their happiness seems to stretch into even the most stressful of situations. But when I found out I was five weeks along, I felt a stab of despair along with a knife twist of fear. I was living with my mother, and the baby’s father was well, you know the guy that you hate to love and love to hate? He was that. I loved it when he touched me and hated when he slept with my roommate. It was that kind of hate/love, if you know what I mean.

There were a lot of valid reasons why I should have gotten an abortion. Actually, there were only reasons. I honestly could not think of one reason to keep my child. My mother was two months behind on the rent, I was drinking a fifth of alcohol within two days (before my pregnancy), my brother was in jail, my sister was in an abusive relationship right next door, and my baby’s father was sending me links to abortion clinics/facts/and procedures. I was unemployed, two years shy of a Bachelor’s degree, and definitely not in my right mind. It wasn’t exactly a no-brainer to the sane that I should abort and move on. But I couldn’t, hell I wouldn’t do it.

The nurse described to me the beginnings of the procedure as I sat in the cold seat of Planned Parenthood and I begin to tear up and asked her to “please just stop!” The days droned on as I tried to figure out what I should do. I began to lie in the middle of the floor, rubbing my stomach, breathing in worry and breathing out contempt, wondering what my little boy or girl would look like. Would she have my light eyes or my dimples? Would he have my mother’s nose and his father’s lips? This thing squirming inside of me would be all mine. It took me the full three months before the procedure wouldn’t be an option to decide. I was going to keep it. I was going to be a single mother. And thats where it all began for me.