Emotional Baggage, Creative Storytelling, and the Lost Art of Accountability

 

Because apparently, being old enough to know better doesn't mean people actually DO.

At 52, I've discovered that emotional maturity and chronological age have remarkably little in common.

Some people spend their lives learning, growing, and examining their behavior. Others spend decades perfecting the same dysfunctional habits while remaining genuinely perplexed when their relationships implode.

Apparently, self-awareness isn't included with the "senior discount".

I've certainly had my own emotional baggage. Growing up in an unstable and toxic household, being ASD-1, having ADHD, CPTSD, and navigating relationships with significant anxiety wasn't exactly a recipe for effortless emotional stability.

20 years ago, an unanswered telephone call could send my imagination into a full-scale criminal investigation.

Fortunately, therapy, self-reflection, and life experience helped me recognize that feelings aren't always facts.

Menopause has also contributed by apparently eliminating whatever tolerance for nonsense I had remaining. An unexpected benefit, considering the rest of the experience has hardly been a luxury spa retreat. That's a story for a different day 😑

I'm not perfect. But I've changed considerably, and I can acknowledge when I've behaved badly.

Which brings me to a fascinating question: Why is accountability apparently so terrifying to some adults?

When Emotional Baggage Becomes Everyone Else's Problem

Our childhood experiences and past relationships influence how we perceive people.

Someone who experienced betrayal may become guarded. Someone who fears abandonment may interpret distance as rejection. Someone who grew up managing other people's emotions may associate relationships with overwhelming responsibility.

Psychology gives us terms such as attachment insecurity, experiential avoidance, and confirmation bias to help explain these patterns.

Useful concepts. Not diplomatic immunity.

Understanding why someone behaves a certain way doesn't mean accepting the behavior indefinitely.

I've known someone who increasingly preferred solitude and the company of animals to human relationships.

As an animal lover, I understand completely. Animals are wonderful, and most have better conflict-resolution skills than adults.

But there's a difference between enjoying independence and avoiding every conversation that might require vulnerability or accountability. Emotional walls may protect us from disappointment, but they can also keep out people who never intended to hurt us.

And sometimes we're so busy protecting ourselves from the past that we fail to recognize the person standing in front of us today.

Please Stop Treating Me Like It's 2006

Approximately 20 years ago, I was a considerably more anxious person. Self Esteem exited the building as I was just fresh off of a much needed divorce and was an absolute MESS!

I needed reassurance, sometimes interpreted distance as rejection, and hadn't yet developed the independence I enjoy today.

But people change.

Therapy, personal losses, careers, experience, and the occasional emotional catastrophe have a way of doing that.

When I considered renting a separate living space from someone I'd known for decades, my intentions were remarkably uncomplicated.

I wanted a home. A place where my newly inherited dog and I could safely live until I could secure a place for us on my own. (I trashed my credit and spent every dime I had to take care of 2 elderly parents that were dying. 1 of massive organ failure, and the other of a Stage 4 Cancer diagnosis that she hid from us all)

I wasn't looking for an emotional caretaker, or someone to supervise my existence.

I later learned that he reportedly had concerns about feeling responsible for me or having his privacy invaded. Which was ironic, considering I was equally concerned about protecting my own privacy.

Apparently, we were both worried about the same staircase.

He was entitled to decline the arrangement, and I respected his decision.

But psychology describes something called schemas: the mental frameworks we develop about people based on previous experiences. Sometimes those frameworks become outdated.

And I'd appreciate not having my entire adult personality permanently archived in 2006.

When Friendship Becomes an Unauthorized Intelligence Operation

Somewhat recently, I was hospitalized for a serious medical condition.

Naturally, I wasn't answering every telephone call. After a day of not charging my phone, it naturally died, therefore not receiving anyone's calls.

I realize this is shocking, but receiving medical treatment occasionally takes precedence over social obligations. Someone I considered a friend/family decided to contact a person from my longstanding romantic history without my knowledge or permission.

Here's what made that decision particularly peculiar:

She knew my cousin and another close friend. She'd met them both in person and could contact them through social media; just as she did my ex. Instead, she chose someone she'd never met face-to-face and had spoken to only once, during a three-way call I'd arranged so he could offer advice about a union-related workplace issue.

Naturally, when concerned about someone's hospitalization, the logical choice is their former romantic partner from 20 years ago.

Apparently, contacting an actual family member would have been far too conventional.

I can't establish her motivation, but I can certainly question her judgment. Unfortunately, the situation didn't end with a simple welfare inquiry.

Information was communicated suggesting I was deliberately refusing to speak to this person because he'd declined an earlier rental request. Amongst other things...

I had never said that.

I'd simply assumed he preferred not to rent it and respected it. As a matter of fact, I assumed the reason I did not hear from him after sending him a Christmas Card and a box of presents for the holidays was his way of establishing that boundary. I took the hint. No protest. No dramatic grudge. I went about my life.

A suspicious activity, evidently.

When he received this account from my supposed "friend", he reacted angrily and told me never to contact him again.

20 years of history, damaged by information that hadn't come from me. Gone in a matter of seconds.

But what happened afterward was equally troubling.

When I confronted my friend, she insisted she'd done nothing beyond asking whether he'd heard from me. She denied any further involvement. Yet she'd seen his angry response, and the information he appeared to be reacting to went well beyond a simple inquiry. Her explanation didn't account for the discrepancy.

And this wasn't the first time I'd encountered conversations being embellished, information withheld, or events presented in ways that didn't match what I knew.

My therapist helped me recognize that contacting someone from my private life under those circumstances was a boundary violation.

Not an innocent misunderstanding. Not a charming expression of concern. A boundary violation.

When Even Text Messages Apparently Need Witness Protection

What made these experiences even more unsettling was that I'd previously been warned by others not to communicate with this individual through text messages.

I was told that written conversations had allegedly been manipulated or altered to support a preferred narrative. Honestly, it was a bit of a stretch for me to initially believe because this came from people who actively do not like this person, so I just brushed their claims off.

I cannot independently verify those allegations or whether any digital editing tools were involved. But being warned that ordinary text messages might not be represented accurately is disturbing enough.

Apparently, merely embellishing a conversation is no longer sufficiently ambitious. Now we're allegedly moving into post-production. And I have to wonder about the effort involved.

Imagine dedicating that much time and creativity to presenting a favorable version of events instead of simply telling the truth.

If only that level of dedication could be redirected toward self-reflection.

One inaccurate account might be a misunderstanding.

Repeated embellishments, secrecy, crossed boundaries, and explanations that don't reconcile with events create a much larger problem.

Trust.

And once trust becomes questionable, even ordinary communication starts feeling like evidence collection. I have enough responsibilities without needing a forensic specialist to interpret my friendships. 

As a result, I have ceased all communication and contact with this person. I want none of that drama or further damage to my social life. 

I watched my mom do something eerily similar to my dad; in the end he had no friends left and she had him all to herself. Even I told her that was extremely unhealthy and co-dependent. And that is exactly what this "friendship" was starting to resemble to me. 

Attachment Issues Aren't a Get-Out-of-Accountability-Free Card

Attachment anxiety can involve intense fears of rejection or abandonment. An unanswered telephone call may feel deeply threatening to someone experiencing those fears.

I understand that because I've experienced attachment anxiety myself. But here's the distinction:

Feeling abandoned doesn't mean you've been abandoned. Feeling rejected doesn't mean someone has rejected you.

And feeling insecure doesn't give you permission to interfere in someone else's private relationships.

Mental health diagnoses don't automatically make people dishonest, manipulative, or untrustworthy. Those conclusions must be based on conduct, not labels.

But psychological struggles don't excuse repeated boundary violations or inaccurate communication, either. You can have compassion for someone's emotional difficulties while still holding them responsible for their choices.

It's entirely possible to understand someone's behavior and decide that the behavior is unacceptable.

A concept that really shouldn't require a graduate degree. But this was a damn Master Class in navigating Borderline Personality Disorder & Anxious Attachment Disorder (a diagnosis that my former friend shared with me. This is not something I am making up on the fly here).

20 Years, and Nobody Thought to Ask One Question??

The other side of this situation deserves attention, too.

Someone I'd known for approximately 20 years accepted a third party's interpretation of my motives without asking me whether it was accurate.

Psychology calls one possible influence confirmation bias: our tendency to favor information that supports beliefs we already hold.

If we expect someone to behave a particular way, a story that fits that expectation can seem believable even when it's wrong.

Which brings me to a revolutionary idea:

"Did you actually say that?"

5 words.

No forensic investigation. No committee hearing. No need to send me a nasty message.

Just 5 words that might have prevented a tremendous amount of unnecessary damage.

I respected his request for no contact, and I haven't attempted to override it. I have no intention in ever reaching out to him again after what he said. 

But respecting someone's boundary doesn't mean agreeing with the assumptions behind it.

Two people made separate decisions.

One crossed my boundaries and offered an explanation that didn't account for the information communicated. The other accepted that information without verifying it.

Both decisions had consequences.

And neither person's emotional history removes responsibility for those choices. Yet both refuse to take accountability.

Amazing. 

Getting Older Is Mandatory. Growing Up Is Apparently Optional.

Depression, childhood trauma, attachment insecurity, and betrayal can complicate relationships.

They deserve understanding. But understanding doesn't mean abandoning common sense.

Being hurt doesn't automatically make us right. Feeling rejected doesn't establish that rejection occurred. And having difficulty accepting responsibility doesn't mean responsibility magically disappears.

I've spent years examining my own reactions and learning to distinguish my feelings from reality.

Was therapy always enjoyable?

Absolutely not. There were sessions when a root canal seemed like a delightful alternative.

But I'd rather experience the temporary discomfort of acknowledging a mistake than spend decades repeating the same behavior and wondering why my relationships keep deteriorating. As well as people believing you are a colossal, arrogant asshole because you think/behave you are always right and everyone else is the problem.

Self-awareness isn't just understanding what happened to you. It's recognizing what your behavior does to other people.

That's where emotional growth actually begins.

Victim mentality is no longer an option.

Honesty Shouldn't Be an Advanced Life Skill

I don't expect perfection from anyone.

People misunderstand things, make mistakes, and occasionally exercise judgment that leaves the rest of us wondering whether adult supervision was available.

I've had my moments. But I do expect honesty, accountability, and some willingness to reconsider assumptions. A friendship shouldn't require surrendering personal boundaries.

Emotional insecurity shouldn't become an excuse for interfering in someone else's relationships. And 20 years of history shouldn't be discarded because nobody bothered to verify a story.

Sometimes the most mature response is simply:

"I misunderstood." "I shouldn't have done that." "I'm sorry."

3 relatively uncomplicated statements. No psychological dissertation required. Just honesty, humility, and a functioning sense of personal responsibility.

You'd think that by middle age, we'd have mastered the basics. Apparently, some people are still waiting for the introductory course to begin.

Final Thoughts: Thank You for Showing Me Who You Are

At 52, I've learned that not every relationship is meant to survive, regardless of how many years we've invested in it. And sometimes, the greatest favor someone can do for you is reveal exactly who they are.

In this particular situation, two people I've known for years ultimately did me an enormous favor. Despite the pain of betrayal and perceived loss of both these individuals in my life. 

One demonstrated that my privacy, boundaries, and trust were apparently negotiable. The other demonstrated how quickly years of friendship could be dismissed without the courtesy of a simple conversation. Proving to me that I didn't mean as much to them than I mistakenly assumed. My bad. 

Different behaviors. Equally enlightening.

And while the experience was disappointing, it was also remarkably educational.

I've spent years working on my own emotional growth, recognizing unhealthy patterns, and learning what I will and will not tolerate. Apparently, the final examination involved two people I thought I knew.

I certainly didn't request the course, but the lesson was received.

I've learned that longevity doesn't guarantee loyalty, familiarity doesn't guarantee understanding, and someone calling themselves your friend doesn't necessarily mean they're behaving like one.

Fake friendships and frenemies are two things I have absolutely no interest in accommodating at this stage of my life.

I'm no longer willing to sacrifice my peace, compromise my boundaries, or repeatedly explain my integrity to people who have already decided which version of me they prefer to believe.

And while I can appreciate that everyone carries emotional baggage, I'm not running a complimentary luggage-check service. I've been hauling around enough of my own to outfit a 747 🛬🛫

So, to both individuals involved, thank you.

Thank you for demonstrating what I should no longer tolerate, regardless of the history, emotional attachment, or cost of walking away.

Thank you for reminding me that self-respect sometimes means accepting the loss of people we once considered important.

And most importantly, thank you for showing me that losing access to someone isn't always a loss. Sometimes it's the beginning of a much more peaceful life.

I wish you both well.

From a considerable distance that you prefer from me.

Because at this age, my peace is nonnegotiable, my boundaries aren't suggestions, and I'm no longer accepting applications for friendships that require a background investigation and a forensic analysis of text messages.

Lesson learned. Tuition paid. Class dismissed.

Bittersweet Endings

 

 

Endings. 

I don't know why this hit me so hard today, but as I was going through my email alerts on my phone, I came across a post from USPS which shows physical photos of the mail you will be expecting that day to arrive.

Today was the first (another "First") where there was no mail that was addressed to either parent.

This stung bad for some reason.

Maybe subconsciously it was a comfort to see their names even though I know they are no longer here on earth, on something tangible that showed their existence. Maybe getting their mail, I took it as a "sign" from the universe that they are "still around" even though I cannot see them, hear them, touch them.

 I knew that one day I wouldn't be receiving their mail anymore. I didn't think that day would be today.

I didn't think that I would be reduced to tears staring at an empty mailbox that once held copious amounts of mail & packages addressed to my mom & Carl. It's almost haunting as absurd as that sounds.

Another day, Another "First", and I hate them both equally.

Not today, Satan....

 

As if the universe wasn't tossing enough "jokes" my way lately, it tries to top itself by having my former supervisor who had essentially trashed my reputation with "Bob", and made me largely unemployable for damn near a YEAR after I left the company whom I was working under her for, by getting a Facebook DM from the devil herself.

This bitch is extremely delusional thinking I would ever want to hear from her or about her ever in my life ever again!

Initially I just ignored and did not open the message, but as the days wore on, she just kept adding to her unread messages to me for a total of 3. 

I realize this should be "water under the bridge" and to "forgive and forget." 

Fuck No! I'm going to allow myself to be a petty bitch and remember EVERYTHING she said and had done behind my back to damn near destroy my career because it was evident she was a shit-tastic supervisor.

I have ALL the emails and messages where she is blatantly backstabbing me and not to mention close friends of hers admitted to my face that she was setting me up for failure. It was also said she would do anything to keep her job. Read: Lie & backstab to make her look innocent and have others take the fall for her. 

I wasn't the first of her "victims" either. 

But she will be MY last.

As much as I wanted to ream her a new one, I just blocked her. Blocked her from Facebook, Instagram, from my life. Pretty sure she's on TikTok so I'll have to block her there as well if I find her. 

Until then, RIP 

Ghosts from the past

 

So today had a couple of "jokes" of its own; specifically that of an ex-boyfriend from 1992-93.

I am generally not on Facebook as I find it to be a constant source and stream of drama that I just do not have the intellectual stomach for. I much prefer the simplicity and photography that is on Instagram.

Anyway, I had a message come in via Facebook Messenger this morning from someone I haven't thought of in literal decades; an ex. We will call him "Tom."

 Tom and I had dated in the early 90's, we met in High School and initially HATED each other.

It was my BFF at the time and his BFF that were dating that brought us together. It was a volatile relationship at best, but that is what seriously conflicting values and teenage stupidity will do to you.

I was co-dependent and bored, and he was immature and enjoyed recreational drug use.

This was not a relationship that was going to last. I was too "uptight" and "straight-laced", and he refused to grow up and stop with the drug use.

We broke up, but stayed friends after a cooling off period. He started hanging out with my friend and I, we would go out clubbing practically every weekend. Tom kept hinting on getting back together, but I think I was interested in and seeing someone else... I vaguely remember some punk ass dude that invited us to his Halloween Party and thank god Tom heard me yelling because he broke down the door to the room I was in with this guy who's name I can't recall, to pull him off me.

We left the party after that. I was ready to get the hell out of there! And I think Tom was protective and jealous. 

I don't remember when I stopped talking to Tom, I do remember him telling me that he wasn't happy with his life and didn't seem to have a clear healthy direction to take it in, so he was joining the military.

It wasn't a bad idea seeing as all his friends were going off to college, getting married, moving on with their lives and he was stuck in this sort of holding pattern.

By then, I had been dating someone else, fled the state to get away from said person (they wanted kids and marriage. I was TOO YOUNG to be thinking about that!) and ended up in Texas where I wanted to pursue my Veterinary Degree. 

During my time in Texas, I'm not sure how, but we ended up getting into contact with one another. We had a couple of conversations and then he just blurted out: "Do you want to get married?"

And then there is me on the other end of the phone with my mouth hanging open and a shocked look on my face. The very thing I jumped on a plane to get away from: Marriage.

 After I declined the offer, communication just dropped off and we went on with our lives.

Fast Forward to about 3-4 years ago, I ended up catching up with an old high school friend at dinner where Tom's name got brought up. He had been absent from my thoughts since 1996, until she brought him up.

I was reliably informed that after Tom got back home from the military, he resumed his life as if nothing changed. He went back to his old destructive ways that included alcohol and drug use. Both of which I never want in my own life, so I knew to steer clear of him.

Now after 29 years, he popped back up into my life and my Facebook DM's.

We had a very brief conversation; I immediately saw where it was "heading" towards and told a little white lie about me being engaged. That stopped the conversation in its tracks. 

I won't lie and say I wasn't curious about Tom and what has been happening since the last time we spoke, but I'm not curious enough to let someone back into my life who hasn't grown up and has a pretty obvious substance abuse problem.

Some things are better left in the past, and should not be repeated.

I believe this is a perfect example of just that.

Jugular vs. Carotid

 

Yesterday I was reminded of a blog that I had constructed quite a few years back that was dedicated to someone who meant the world to me (and still does), and within a few minutes of trying to locate the blog address, I was transported back to the memories & feelings of that time.

I plan on keeping that blog address to myself for personal reasons. But I liken that blog to a "Jugular Vein", and this one to the "Carotid Artery."

I say that as both vessels are crucial for one's survival, but one more "delicate in a way" than the other.

Jugular Veins, while "exposed" can pose a health threat, they are veins which when damaged, usually collapse and can prevent (to a degree) death by exsanguination. 

Carotid Arteries are much more complicated than that. 

Those, if cut or damaged, can lead to massive blood loss and death within mere minutes if not attended to by a qualified medical professional. So "exposing mine" here online in a blog that is made Public, is my version of it.

 Little by little I have been blogging about things I would never have told anyone, much less put in print on a public platform. Experiences and feelings that if used against me, would emotionally send me into a tailspin from which I don't know that I could recover from... until now.

I guess most people would call it being an "Exposed Nerve", whereas for me, my life and everything in it was something that I viewed that could "kill me." Not the case anymore as much. I'm still struggling in some areas, and others I have thrown caution to the wind and have a IDGAF attitude about.

So what does all of this have to do with that other blog of mine? Plenty.

In that other blog, I saw at how much I had held back on true emotions, feelings, and much needed information. I held back because it hurt to feel the true weight of everything I was writing about. 

While I didn't lie on those posts, there was a great deal of what I didn't say. 

I guess I didn't feel that I needed to be THAT honest; especially assuming strangers or maybe even the person it was meant for, would read it. 

I had abandoned it for years as there was some major life events that happened in my family so blogging was something that I didn't find to be a priority, much less something I had time to dedicate to.

I tend to get kind of "long winded" and end up with a mild form of carpal tunnel by the time I'm done typing. 

Still no excuse. But that was my reasoning for abandoning the blog at the time. Do not ask me why the old one came to mind to me that day, I have no idea why. Maybe the person it was written for was on my mind. They never have not been. 

They were one of my very best friends in the world and so many times when something happened in my life, I wanted to run to them (and my folks) to tell them what happened, going on, etc... 

Now, I have neither. I just have myself and that has been quite the adjustment. So has allowing myself to express myself openly and truly heal from a lot of things. 

I allowed myself to go through the whole blog because I had largely forgotten exactly what I had written all those years ago. The basic theme I never forgot. 

It was filled with messages of love, apologies, and best of all: memories. Some of my mom that I had forgotten.

Forgetfulness has always been a way of life for me, so blogging helped keep those memories intact. I'm glad I typed those posts and kept them 💖 

If I had to do it all based on my own memory, I'd be screwed.

Maybe that was why I cruised on over to that old blog... There were good memories with my mom and I in there. One of which where I took her to a restaurant that I went to with my friend many years ago, and it turned out that it was the same place that my dad took her for a first date many years before.

I never knew that until she said something, and I am glad that I took the time to write it down. 

It was a rare occasion that she and I shared that was a GOOD memory. Those I am desperately trying to hang onto. That blog post sparked that. 

There were photos that I long forgot about that brought a smile to my face, and some posts that brought tears to my eyes. Showing that in that moment, I was indeed in a lot of pain and could have used some professional help. Even though I was already seeing a therapist, she was not nearly as helpful or effective as the one I have now. 

If anything, she didn't do shit. Just took my insurance money and gave little to no help. 

There's a memory I'd like to forget.

I'm proud of myself in a way. Proud of myself because instead of repeating the pattern of saying just enough but not all, I have done the opposite here. 

I have been not exactly forcing myself to be an "open book" for all to see, rather than allowing myself to be OK if people know the good, the bad, the ugly about me, and the things I have been through. 

Everyone has stories that they are not proud of, myself included. That old blog reminds me of that time in my life that I was not the best person, period. 

It serves as a reminder of what I don't want to be, and to remind me of the friendship that I once had. That people like that do indeed exist and to hold out for those, instead of the ones who "breadcrumb" you. 

Like the saying goes: "Know who is Gold, and who is simply Gold Plated."

I wish I could discern better between the two 😔

Nightmares & Dreamscapes

 

REM Cycles are funny things... at least in my world in the past few nights.

Almost nightly I had experienced a mixture of "normal" dreams and 1 that was sort of a nightmare. I will explain that one in a minute.

Even though my mom and I did not have what I would consider a happy Mother/Daughter relationship, I still love and miss her. My dreams have proven that. 

I was pretty surprised that I had 2 dreams almost back-to-back that had her in them, but the real surprise was seeing my aunt! I had dreamt about my aunt Charlotte many many years ago, she appeared in my dream as a waitress on roller skates in a red curly haired wig, and some crazy make up. Somehow, I knew it was her but sadly I didn't pay much attention to her. I could kick my own ass for that one.

My aunt Charlotte committed suicide in the 90's. She was one of my favorite family members, and definitely my favorite aunt. My mom and her were very close, her death rocked the family something fierce.

I will never forget the look on my grandmother's face when she was looking down at her youngest daughter in a coffin. This wasn't the first child of hers that she had to bury; thankfully it was the last.

I hold very fond memories of my aunt Charlotte and always will. I wish she was still here. Especially now. 

OK, getting back to the original subject of this post: my dreams.

I usually fall asleep watching/listening to various YouTube videos, and apparently the one I was listening to, I ended up dreaming about in the strangest way.

In this dream I ended up at this YouTuber's boyfriend's family's house where his brother and mother still resided. It was "present day" but they still had a Christmas Tree up and there was 1 present still under it.

I don't know why I looked in that direction, but noticed that the gift had a large envelope attached to the top of it and it was my mothers handwriting. Immediately the gift was handed to me by one of the brothers and I kept asking "Was she here?!?! Do you know this is MY Mom's handwriting?!?!?"

I remember being very confused and upset that I missed seeing my mother and wanted to know when & why she was there?... I was pointed in the direction to go down a hall to the mother's room and ask these pertinent questions. I showed her the envelope and she confirmed that Yes, my mom was there and she left me a gift.

In real life, Yes, my mom was alive during Christmas, but was mainly unconscious due to high dose pain meds that kept her pain under control. She did say earlier that year that we wouldn't be celebrating Christmas and made it seem like it was due to finances (which didn't bother me), not to what she knew was coming and had hid from everyone: her terminal Cancer.

In my dream I didn't open the gift, so I never knew what was inside that box, and I didn't open the card, so I never knew what it said. Somehow, I instinctively knew what was written was everything my mom wanted to say to me before she passed away. Somehow, I knew it was filled with apologies, explanations, and most of all: love for me.

It's weird how that knowing that in my dream, it means so much. I just wish I could have heard all of that before she passed. Maybe the dream was the "gift", and the wrapped box was a symbol of that. 

The next dream was a short one, and a real doozy!

This is where I had a second dream about my aunt Charlotte. This time she really knew how to get my attention... in my dream, she owned a horse.

Slight Backstory on this: as a child (and now) Horses have always been a deep love & obsession of mine. I begged my mom for one ever since I could remember, and instead of buying my first car, I bought a horse instead at 15. I've owned horses ever since. 

My aunt told my mom that she thought my mom needed to take me to see a doctor because the obsession with horses was seemingly unnatural to her and my aunt thought there was something mentally wrong with anyone who had such an attachment to any 1 thing. LOL if she only knew

Anyway, in my dream my aunt showed up as herself and she OWNED A HORSE.

Not just any horse, but one that is related to my current horse (expensive Championship show lines), but a stallion. 

OK... that's where I kind of lost my shit in my own dream. I was excited and shocked as hell that my aunt has a horse, BUT unless you are a breeder, there is NO NEED to own a stallion for any reason. 

Then she also had it at a training barn that I used to be at, with a trainer who was a good friend of mine.

The confusing part is that my aunt's stallion is a Western Pleasure bred horse, and this trainer trains Reining horses... 2 different disciplines. 

It was a short dream, like I said, but it was exciting and amusing at the same time.

Maybe this was my aunt's way to let me know "she's still there watching over me." Horses or no horses.

This last most recent dream was more like a nightmare of sorts but to a lessened degree.

True Story: When I was around 6-7 years of age, I had a Husband/Wife babysitting team that I went to after school while my mom was at work. 

Mavis & Gomez. 

They had a granddaughter named Amy who wasn't very nice to me, she was spoiled rotten, and used to bite me all the time. 

I think I know why she was always so angry and mean. It had to be as a result of the crap that she had to go through at that house. I'm sure there were things I never knew about, and really don't want to as a result of what I experienced myself there.

In real life, Gomez was a disgusting pedophile. I think Mavis knew this and that was why she kept Amy away from him as much as she could. 

I was fair game. 

Long story short, Gomez inappropriately touched me, and it freaked me out. I knew well enough what he did was WRONG, but as any fucked-up adult in his situation does, threatened to hurt me if I told on him. So, for years, I kept my mouth shut. 

It didn't go unnoticed that I would religiously avoid ALL men who wanted to touch me in any way (hugs, handshakes, etc) and it finally came out in a counselling session as to what happened so many years ago. My mother was mortified, pissed off, and called her ex (whom she was with at the time of the incident, and it was HIS recommendation to have that couple babysit me in the first place). 

He was absolutely floored and found out later that Gomez died on the kitchen floor of that house from a heart attack. Good Riddance!

Though I always wondered what happened to Amy and how she coped with the dysfunction she experienced.

Back to the dream. 

In my dream I was transported back to Mavis & Gomez's House of Horrors.

It was updated and redecorated, but it was still the same house. 

In my dream, my dog was with me as well. I guess she was there as a source of "comfort", and I was glad she appeared. The living room was the place where Gomez did his dirty deed, and there was a yellow couch that he was always found lying on watching the TV at the other end of the room. 

In my dream, there was no one home and I knew that by now, Mavis had passed on years before, so neither of them would be present there. It seemed that my dog and I were the only ones in that house. 

I don't know WHY I was there, though I do have a penchant for nostalgia. However, I could not imagine EVER wanting to remember anything that had to do with that time in my life, that house, and the people in them. But apparently in my dream, I was there for a reason.

What I found weird but not out of the ordinary, was that I pulled a camera out of my pocket to take photos of the place. I stood at the other end of the room where the TV would have been, to take a photo of the couch where I was violated by another man as a child. 

As I tried to take a photo of the "crime scene", I noticed that no matter how hard I tried, the camera would not focus.

I knew that it was "Gomez" that was blocking my shot. His unseen spirit was trying to cover up the photo of the place where he acted out his past indiscretions.

That was when I got super angry and told him to GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY

I don't remember ever getting that pissed off in any dream, but Damn... I had it built up and he had it coming. If I ever saw him alive in real life as an adult, I probably would have beat the shit out of him. 

Epstein would have loved a man like Gomez. If that gives you any kind of indication of what he was like.

Anyway, after the failed attempt at photographing the couch in the living room, I started walking through the house to see what the rest of the rooms looked like.

I got to Mavis's old room and saw that there was indeed another person sleeping on the bed and the room was an absolute mess! Clothes basically flung everywhere, and the person was a female and face down asleep. I don't know who that was, but it was not Mavis or Amy. 

About that time was when I woke up, so I did not have time to find out who she was or see the rest of the house. That's OK... I really didn't want to be in that house anymore. Waking up was a blessing.

I hope to never dream about that house, or those people ever again. However, it was nice to know and "see" that I could incite a fit of rage if needed in a REM cycle.

The last dream I had with my mom in it, was unfortunately another short one. 

We were in a car where I was driving, and we were coming up to a toll booth (not sure where we were going or why there was a toll booth). I remember looking at her and telling her that I wished that God would allow me to still see and talk to her even though she was dead. Basically, having the ability to see/hear/conversate with her even if those around me could not see & hear what I do.

Mom was eating something from a Drive Thru so she couldn't speak but did smile at me, acknowledging me and what I had said. 

I woke up before we went through the toll booth, or before she could verbally say anything. 

I was happy to have seen and "spend time with her" again, but sad that I didn't get any direct communication from her. 

I'm grateful for what I am getting in my dreams from her and the rest of my family... but I will always want more.

Reasons, Seasons, and Lifetimes

 

So today was the equivalent of a "shit sandwich."

I know...  lovely choice of descriptives but honestly, this one slaps. The accuracy tho

I wasn't in the mood to be at work today in the first place, but probably the worst news was delivered during our Tuesday Meeting: my boss's boss gave his notice. 

I'd like to preface this post as I am well informed that it is almost never a good idea to blog/vlog/publish anything about your place of employment and it is generally avoided if you want to keep your job, but I'm willing to take that risk today. 

When it was announced that my boss's boss was no longer going to be a part of the company, I just stood there in the lab in complete shock. Like life just ripped the rug out from under me, leaving me to land on a bed of nails.

Without revealing too much, this person and I initially did not get on that well. I worked for them years ago at another laboratory but the supervisor that he had me report to, was extremely dishonest and lied her ass off about me to him. In turn, that made him very wary of me and inevitably causing me to leave the company I met him at.

There is a ton more to that story, but I really don't want to go back down that road mentally. Let's just say that a month and a half later, the supervisor I had reported to ended up leaving the company as well, but she was doing that it avoid being put on a Performance Improvement Plan. She jumped ship before that could happen to her. 

Fast forward 3 years later, I found myself face to face with my boss once more. I wasn't terribly excited about working with him again, especially after he allowed my direct supervisor to set me up for failure. I was taking the fall for her lies and mistakes. It was easy to blame everything on me and I was told that she would do anything to keep her job. Even if that meant she needed to be a snake about it.

It took a couple of months for me to relax around my old manager, but I'm glad I pushed through my fears because it turns out that I was completely wrong about him. I believed what my supervisor said and never questioned her.

At one point, my old manager (we will call him "Bob") and I commuted into work together. He lives just down the road from me. It worked well for a time, but he has the option to work from home, I do not. Commuting takes gas and bridge tolls, so the carpooling came to a halt, but it was great while it lasted.

This gave both of us the opportunity to get to know each other outside of work and I guess "bond" in a way. I learned A LOT about him and his background. I learned he was nothing like the monster that my previous supervisor made him out to be. 

I had made it my mission to show and prove to him that I was not that employee that my supervisor made me out to be.

 A colossal fuck up.

I'd like to believe in the last 2 years, I accomplished that mission. 

I've been reliably informed that he has spoken highly of my skills and teaching abilities which made me tear up on the spot. FINALLY, I got the validation I had been so badly seeking from him.

There was a part of me that just could not stand the thought of him not seeing or appreciating my skill sets, proficiency, and knowledge. I lost quite a bit of sleep over it.

Now, it will be crying myself to sleep (maybe not that dramatic, but there have already been tears).

One of my coworkers poked fun at the situation by saying that I would need to get a bobble head statue of "Bob" to step in as my "security blanket" in the lab. I would run to him quite frequently when I was unsure of a new procedure, walk through my thought process when assessing new techniques, or performing something technically difficult and needed him just to stand there... to be my "security blanket."

I'm fairly certain that he finds this attachment amusing and absurd. Especially since this is coming from a grown woman about his age. 

I'm not proud of it 😆

He was gracious to spend a few minutes in a conference room where I choked back tears while telling him that is was an honor to get to work with him again, as well as telling him a little bit about my favorite mentor from a previous job in 2001. Without her persistence and support, I don't think I would be where I am today career-wise. I am beyond grateful for her, and I was lucky enough to be blessed with another one of those humans in my lifetime: "Bob."

I couldn't let "Bob" leave the company without letting him how much his mentorship meant to me, and how I hold him in the same regard as my mentor.

He knows that this is a big deal as he also knows me well enough to know I'm not a fan of most people in general and avoid them as a result. At least I hope he knows. 

While I wanted to fall into a puddle of my own frustrations & tears, the title of this blog post came to me in an instant.

I was reminded of that quote about people come into your life either for a reason, season, or a lifetime.

I believe "Bob" was all 3.

The Reason: So I could rectify myself in his eyes and prove my former supervisor wrong (and anyone else who believed her bullshit about me).

The Season: Not everyone you meet in your life is meant to stay. This is especially hard for me as I have a hard time letting people go, even if it is in their best interest. I was tasked to learn and integrate new surgical models in house, I don't know how confident I would have been had he not been there for me to psychologically lean on. I needed the confidence, and "Bob" gave it to me in his own way.

"Bob's" time in my immediate life is done as of June 6th. Maybe he is needed elsewhere where he can be of guidance and mentorship to someone who needs it more than I do. 

I'm selfish. I don't want him to go, but I know he wants something different for himself. I can't blame him.

A Lifetime: I get to carry with and got to replace bad experiences & memories, with ones of deep respect and fondness. As I have stated before, I place and rank him just as high as my mentor. This is NOT easy to do, and I found it to be effortless. He's earned his spot at the podium in which I place only the best people on. He stayed with me when I was nervous about performing a new technique and gave me guidance when I needed/asked for it. 

I hope wherever his new job takes him, that they know what an amazing human being they have hired.

I am preemptively jealous of his new colleagues and wish I was one of them. 

He let me know that where he was going, they didn't have the type of lab or position I have worked in for the past 22 years. Hearing that broke my heart all over again, but I have to remember that not everyone is meant to stay in your life. And find the grace to let them go. 

I'm lucky to have had a second chance to prove myself to him, I need to work on being OK if that was his purpose in my life. 

I'm grateful, I just wish I could tell my heart it's going to be fine. 

Baby steps, I guess. 

Thank You, "Bob." Thank You for everything