Dear Old Man

Dear Old Man,

I work for you, you are not my father, you are not my friend, your opinion is not wanted nor welcomed. You think my lifestyle sucks ass, you think that because I’m a millennial I don’t know what hard work is. You think I am entitled and spoiled because my parents gave me everything they could. You think that you are better because you grew up in a generation that had to work for everything they had with out any new technology. This is what I have to say about that. Fuck you.

Fuck you, and your opinion. I did not come here to get a lecture, I did not come here for you to dictate my life. I am not your daughter, I am not your niece, or even someone you know enough to make any of those judgements. You don’t know who I am or what I am capable of. You have known me for less than a month. I work for you, you should be telling me how grateful that a young couple has fallen into your lap and is willing to do this kind of work for you. You should realize what blessing it is to have able bodies working for you. I will leave and someone will appreciate me and my youth. And you? You will get a regular workamper who is retired, that may or may not have the stamina of a young 25 year old. Who may or may not be as fast. I am not denying that they will probably have more knowledge, more wisdom, more experience under their belt. But can they lift 100+ lbs.? Can they run around for 8 hours straight during one of your banquets serving and busing tables and cleaning and picking up thrash? How many retired people have you seen working at a restaurant? Either as a server, bar tender, or cook?

You know you need me, us, more than we need you. You know that we will find another job within the week. You know you don’t have your shit together and are trying to blame me for your lack of preparedness. You’re right, if I leave this job the next workamping job will have me do the exact same thing that you are having me do. But they may not be jerks like you and your son, they may be more organized and more prepared and more knowledgeable, they may be nicer and more dedicated. You are not about to tell me that you think this is the very best there is, because if thats what you think then you are so full of yourself.

I feel good about myself, I am happy about my life choices. When I am old I won’t care about material things, I will care about all the wonderful memories I have all over the beautiful states. I will remember my adventures fondly, and you will be so irrelevant I will not remember you.

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I’m really sad

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Cam at Ruby Beach, WA.

I am always in a bad mood, I am always ornery or stressed out or sad or upset or crying. I cannot remember a day in this journey where all I did was just smile all day. It’s always be mad, cry, smile, be mad again. I blame Cam, I really do. He says it’s my choice. It’s my choice to cry, its my choice to be upset.

Which is true, but I cry because he has spent our last 20 dollars on heroin instead of food. I get upset because he’s high a 3 am and wants me to stay up and watch movies with him and cuddle and have sex but I work the next day. I am always ornery because if he’s not high and I want to cuddle he tells me to go away and stop bugging him because he feels sick. I get mad because I need a new pair of glasses, I am to the point where my depth perception is off because my prescription is so old, and he says we don’t have money for that. Yet in February he spent over $1,000 on heroin.

Today is my last day as a volunteer, I got another job lined up for us in Colorado. He is already trying to get out of working there. He is saying I could work there for our spot, and he will go look for a job at the nearest city. I am stressing out, because we have to drive home first get the trailer looked at first and then go to our next spot. I just don’t think that’s gonna go as smoothly as it should.

I know that this is an abusive relationship, I have tried to talk to him about it and he denies it. That alone tells me that I am right. He doesn’t beat me, he doesn’t yell or shout at me, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel abused. His addiction always comes first. We rotate around him and his needs for heroin. He manipulates me, he lies to me, he’s not romantic. When I act silly, he gets mad, he can act silly because he’s high, I can’t because I’m sober.

Yet, despite all that. It’s my fault. Because I’m the one that stays. Because I’m the one that doesn’t just kick him out and let him fend for himself and let him get home however he can. It’s my fault because I’m the one that is not strong enough to say no, I’m the one that let’s him get to me and my emotions.

I keep thinking that it will get better once we get out of this tiny rainy town, he did great last summer. We are pretty sure he has that seasonal depression thing, and this place doesn’t help with that because it is always so grey. So we keep thinking once he is in a warmer, dryer place and he can start all his climbing, running, hiking, biking, etc.. he’ll be better. Last winter he started to get bad too, but the summer he did good. So maybe this time it’ll be the same? Then I will find a job somewhere like Arizona or California where the weather is always a bit warm and sunny.

I keep telling myself to just wait, to be patient, to be okay. I’m just so sad. And scared.

Everyone…

Who do I want my audience to be? Hmm… everyone? Except the people that know me? I mean I think most of my audience will be women. In an ideal world I will learn how to process my thoughts as I write them down and will be bale to actually have categories. Like when I blog about RV living vs when I rant about my bf, or if i make a general post updating about my life you know? That way I’ll have a different audience for each blog post in mind? Maybe that’s too much trouble. I just really lack the motivation.

I think this blog will be very personal. It’s easier to accept the praise/criticism of strangers than that of the people I consider close to me. Most the time I type thinking of a friend or two in mind, thinking how would I tell this story if I was texting this girl? Or if we where at coffee or something what would I say and stuff? And that’s how I write. Which is probably bad because it doesn’t always translate well on paper..

This was supposed to be Blogging University Day 4 I think, I don’t always have wifi so I will be making multiple posts when I do have wifi. I will post later on about Day 5.

Blogging University Day One

Today’s prompt is to post about myself, about my blog about why I’m here. Which I kinda already did, but I wanted help so I might as well do it again.

I have never been able to be honest with myself, even when i was in grade school/middle school and I kept a diary/journal.. I would lie to it, to myself. I would always think what if someone reads this, what if in the future they see this and they think less of me.. I would always enhance the truth a little or hide it. And someone was actually reading my journal, my mom. I hate that day, that’s a day I would like to ad lib about… Today I’m sure I sugar coat things a lot more than back then, because social media has made it so much easier to read things and to spy.. but despite that fear.. I really do want people to read what I have to say.

I have so many secrets. So many things that I have kept to myself because I know my parents wouldn’t approve or my friends wouldn’t understand, or because I know they are wrong. And I am afraid of judgement. In real life people describe me as sweet, cute, polite, well mannered, kind… but I don’t know if that’s really me or not. On the internet, I can write freely. No one has to know that it’s me. I have never posted my name, some pictures may be recognizable but I don’t know. I just feel safer on the internet.

I am dating a drug addict, when I met him he was clean, then he started using again then he got into an outpatient program and got clean for about 6 months. He had a car accident and since then, he hasn’t been sober for more than 3 days. That was in August of 2016, its practically may 2017.. that’s one whole year. And no one in real life knows.. I mean they might know some vague details. They might know he has an addiction but they don’t know how bad it actually is. They would drag me away. They would tell me how wrong it is, and I don’t want to hear it, because I know they are right, and no one wants to hear they are wrong.

We started living full time in a trailer on November 2016. Like I said I had already written vaguely about all this so if you want to read about that, you can read those posts. Once I learn to link them I will. Living in a trailer has been a hassle. We have all the luck, good and bad. We get into a lot of situations. It has also been amazing, and fun and I know that if we where to break up I would try to do all this on my own because I really do enjoy it. And I wish I could be a good writer and write blogs and vlogs about RV life, because it is amazing and I encourage everyone to do it.

A small part of me dreams of being a popular blogger, someone that people can relate to. I have so many stories, about my bf, about rv life, about being a woman, about being Mexican, about being an illegal, about finally getting a green card, the list goes on and on. The other part of me thinks I will get a couple of stories out, and then give up… I don’t know.  That’s what I want my blog to be about though. Me and life, with out any sugar.

Feeling sorry for myself

Edit: I need to start hitting the publish the button more often, old post that I didn’t notice I hadn’t posted.

 

via Daily Prompt: Blindly

I have believed in him, time after time. When i should have left, at the beginning when i was naive, when i pretended to know more about things than i actually did. When he started lying and stealing money from me, and my debit card. When he put himself first always, and still continues to do so. When he jeopardized everything we had, everything i had. I gave him my money, my credit, my love, and one year of my life. And i continue to do so. I should be done, i should be ready to walk away. I should be done.

I don’t understand why i so blindly cling to him, cling to something we could have but haven’t had ever. He is going to be 30 years old addicted to heroin, living on the streets.. do i really want the father of my kids to be a heroin addict?

This life is rejecting us

via Daily Prompt: Cranky

 

And in today’s story about our crazy reality TV like life only better because it is actual life, our other truck is at the mechanic. We where in our trailer minding our own business when the power went out, we didn’t know why at the time but we sat there for like an hour not knowing what to do. Anyway we got into a little argument and we finally decided to go on a drive.

We found out that the power was out because someone crashed into a power pole, and they didn’t know how long it was going to be out. So we drove up this road that we have literally driven on at least once or twice a month since being here, for some reason Cam really likes that road. The past few times that he has suggested going up there i have said no, lets go the beach instead but yesterday I was kinda upset with him so I was just like whatever do whatever you want.

He is driving like 30 mph, like seriously he is not going fast at all, when we hit the first pothole. Then we hit like 3 more and finally we land in a ditch. OMG now we are stuck.. and we don’t know if we are gong to get out… Cam thinks he can. That’s what the truck is for, it’s a lifted yota, its for offroading, he’s got this. He tries and tries, he ignores my comments, his pride is bruised… he is not listening to anyone. He gets the truck stuck even worse.

Some teens notice us and decide to help, thank goodness, because we are up this road in the middle of the rain forest with no cell service. They go back to where there is service and call for help. Meanwhile I get in the truck with Cam to add some weight to it and he starts popping the clutch and now the truck is at least rocking. We get it to move just a bit forward enough for us to move this giant rock and branches for it create some traction. He’s like get in the added weight helps, he thinks. We rock and rock and rock and finally we move! We are out! We high five, yes!

We turn the truck around and he gets out to pop out his 4×4, he gets back in and the truck dies. It wont start! Ugh! We highfived, we where home free, what the heck! The car wont start and we don’t know why because we don’t know anything about cars. The teens come back, yay! I am so happy to be part of the helpful millennial generation. They tried pushing it, pulling it, and nothing. Finally they tow us back to town.

It is raining, and haling and its cold and the rope keeps coming off and we have to keep stopping. They tow us to this place and they don’t look at cars, all they do is tires..? So then they have to tie everything back up and take us to the next mechanic. Ugh. These kids where amazing. We gave them $40 bucks, and I hope that was enough, because they seriously got us out of a bind.

Now the truck is at the mechanics and hopefully we get it back sometime soon. We have to walk to clean and we are sore but other than that nothing bad happened. We just hope the truck is okay, because if not that’s two trucks that this areas has taken from us. Needless to say, we are cranky.

Rehab

Cameron is in rehab. One day we where fighting about what he was doing and how he couldn’t see how bad it was.. and I guess he did because the next morning he called and there was a bed opening and he left. I never actually expected him to be accepted.. I know we talked about it and I know that we where sort of hoping for it, but i never actually thought it would happen. And if it did happen then it would only be for a few days… now he might be gone for a whole month. And so much is happening.

The truck.. the other truck, the trailer, working for Jeff, the cleaning.. and he can’t worry about any of that.. because he needs to be focus on his recovery and thats it. Nothing else should be in his head, because we need him to be well.

And now I’m applying to a different summer job because Jeff is an ass. And what if we don’t get the one in Durango like he wants to.. will that be bad too? And what if we run away from one ass hole boss to another ass hole boss.. or worse one. I just want things to be okay.

Also if he gets out.. and he’s different and I can’t handle him.. or i feel left out.. or I can’t keep up with him so he doesn’t include me in things but i can’t be mad at him because then i would hinder his recovery… but I also can’t tip toe around him for the rest of our lives..

Ranting about things I let conquered me

via Daily Prompt: Conquer

I was going to write about conquering fears.. But have I really? Conquering means that you have taken control over something, or have overcome something. But all I have managed to do is let everything else conquer me. My boyfriend, his addiction, my feelings. I don’t know. How do you even know when you have conquered something?

I thought I would be conquering things right and left on this trip. I thought, we would both be out and getting healthy and hiking and exercising everyday and having fun and eating good food and being productive. Conquering his addiction, and our relationship and our feelings, and our health and hikes and beaches. I don’t know what I thought, I don’t know what to think.

Instead, his addiction is just as bad, he hates it here, and we don’t do anything. And we are letting our feelings conquer us, and things are not what they where supposed to be.. And I want to be optimistic and think.. well we conquered the broken sewer hose, and we conquered the food stamps, and we conquered the snow, and the drive here.. but I feel like I’m just fishing for things. Plus he was high during all of that, or in a bad mood and barely trying. Or I did things by myself because he was out of it, and didn’t want to help. Or didn’t want to do it right then, or couldn’t because he was in so much pain. The truth is.. he has been gone for a day and a half and I am already picturing myself conquering everything with out him. And I feel indifferent about it.

Sad

Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing, I’m all alone with no money in a strange place, filled with strangers. I have one person that I’m supposed to count on and he isn’t very reliable. And I hate thinking that because I feel like everybody around me told me that, and I took a chance and it didn’t work out and now I’m stuck. I know I can leave or kick him out whenever I want. I mean it might not be ideal, but I know I can. But I also don’t want to admit that I was wrong. I miss my mom, even my dad. I don’t miss all my friends but some I do… Actually no I don’t. I miss my parents, my mom specially because she is still sick. But I only miss my friends when I’m bored.. Like if I wish I could go out and have a drink at a bar, or to the mall or to eat.. but i think I miss all that because we haven’t been able to do that in a while, and that’s the biggest problem. I can’t do anything while with Cameron. We haven’t even gone to the beach or anything in like two weeks, what we came here to do we didn’t. And he’s not clean and our house is falling apart, and our relationship is falling apart and for what? Nothing because we haven’t even exploring and all we have been doing is watching Netflix.

I dont know if I can keep doing this. He is off working right now, but whats gonna happen when he comes back? He’s going to spend whatever money he got from working on drugs, thats what. And then things are gonna be just as bad as always. I’m trying to be positive but things haven’t changed at all. And every time I try to be optimistic things just get worse, I can’t help but feel like this was a big mistake. I don’t even know if I love him still.

I think I do. I feel like I do. But I’m just so mad, all the time. I can’t keep my temper, and I’m not happy and sweet like I used to be. I haven’t even cried that much anymore, because now instead of feeling betrayed and sad, I’m just done. I don’t know. I just don’t know. I hope things turn out. I hope things change for the better, but right now it feels like there is a huge pile of crap on my chest.

Something I wrote about speaking Spanish

I am Mexican. My parents are illegal immigrants and I actually grew up in Mexico until I was about eight years old. The first time I ever remember translating anything was in Hemet, California. My parents and I where at a grocery store and the bagger was asking them if they wanted paper or plastic bags. I remember shyly saying “shes asking you this…” and my parents looked at me like “you understand her?” They couldn’t believe it. And all I could think of was that my brain had taken that one way and made it into something else. I had been in the United States for two months at the point.

After that interpreting/translating anything pretty much became part of a daily thing. At school, I was there for a few months before a set of twins enrolled and they didn’t know any English, so as the only other Spanish speaker they made me their aid. I remember one time we where supposed to write a memory or a story about something funny, but I did not know what funny meant. The teacher kept fake laughing and saying “you know funny haha funny” Now, thinking back that’s a funny story.

The last time I had to translate something for my parents, was last week. I don’t even live with them anymore, I don’t live in the same state as them but they call me up and have me translate for them either way. They’re

I actually feel sad, I feel like I am losing my Spanish. I need to start reading in Spanish again, and make more Spanish speaking friends. I need a job where I can speak both languages.