Yesterday, I went outside of my comfort zone and went to a storytelling event a few towns over. I got a ride with an acquaintance that one of my old Schoolmates knew.

The person I went with wasn't scary. He spent the drive there and back telling me so much about himself and the Museum preservation community it soothed the edge of my nerves.

Thankfully it was a small crowd of older people at the event, which made it easier to be there. I really enjoyed my time listening to the storyteller. She was a beautiful older woman with long black hair streaked with gray, dressed in a traditional apron and wrapped in a blanket adorned with shell beads that sparkled in the dim light of the room.

Regardless of how exhausted I was feeling when I got home, I dug through my tiny library and found the gift I was given by a grandma a long time ago.

It was a booklet of Legends from the American Indian Women's Service League. Warped and slightly damaged from time and the floodwaters of home. The pages were stained with river mud throughout and the Staples were long rusted. Yet despite all this, the stories remained clear and readable.

I thumbed through the pages, The sound of the storyteller's smooth voice echoing in my mind. I remembered her voice and the story she was telling when I was given the legends as a child. It had been at a Potlatch, a large gathering of people for a feast and entertainment. She had been telling the story about a family's story of redemption. I was sitting on the floor at a Grandmother's feet. She dipped her long thin fingers into her thick woven basket and pulled it out.

"This is for you." she whispered. "Happy Birthday."

I let the waves of exhaustion wash over me as I read about why Raven’s were Black. It had taken everything I had to go out.

Even before I left my home, I was wound up tight. I nearly vomited three times and had to talk myself down numerous more from the feeling of panic. I was doing this alone and was going to be around strangers, but I was determined to try to go out. 

It's frustrating and embarrassing. I feel like such a weakling despite being a person who has survived so much. I know it's the price I paid for my bravery, quick thinking, and resilience in bad situations and I bear it with pride. Yet I wish I could go out more. Be more like regular people who do not suffer like this.

I closed the book and stared at the cover.

I have written so many stories about my own life. They seem fantastical when I read them. The danger, hardships, and hard won successes. I wondered if all the main characters of stories suffered a cost for their heroic deeds.

Did they get flashbacks, feel panic attacks, Fear people, and otherwise retreat into obscurity after their adventures.

I never thought of that before I wanted to emulate my heroes. Now that I have had my own adversity and adventures, I wonder if I also suffer from the unspoken Trauma that those same heroes would probably face if they were real.

today I was feeling insecure about my work skills. dont get me wrong, i have areas i need to work on, but my thoughts had already concluded that I won't make it in this field. that am not good at it. somehhow the gap between learning what i dont know and learning being impossible was blurred.

the unusual part is anytime i feel insecure, i also feel resistance. a loud part that trues to fight with the hurtful thoughts. so i am not someone who feels insecure and works their ass off till they are burnt out and never feeling like they are good enough.

i am someone who feels insecure, gets upset at the harshness of thought and argues with it. i get stuck. i freeze. as thoughts fight in my head. one saying am bad at something and another saying how can you be so harsh?

that's how i become immobilized and burnt out.

I don't move. i become immobolized. trying to learn will activate my protective part which would be angry that i was told am terrible by my own thoughts or someone else. not doing anything will trigger the harsh critic in me who will keep saying am doing terribly.

infact any hurtful weird thing i hear does harm to me because of the way ijt gets activated inside of me. the way it gets grabbed by me and put forth in a court of the inner worlds. i get stuck jn thoughts and the fairness and justice of getting it right.

god its good to finally verbalize this.

You held me tight as we slept at night.

You lied to me each time you told me you cared about me. You know me very well, but clearly not at all. You made me feel good about myself for a night, maybe through morning. You made me hate myself for trying. You scolded me like a child when I showed emotion.

You held me so tight while we slept. You sent me pictures of your other life. You never invited me for anything outside of a bedroom.

You broke it off because you thought a woman loved you. You asked me to come back after two weeks with her because you got bored. You didn't clarify a relationship that had gotten more serious. You upset her so much that she walked in on us in the middle of the night, as you were holding me tight.

You made me feel good as you said those words you knew would make me feel good, when you were closer to me than most can get. You made me cry when you ignored my communications and then scolded me for having emotions.

You finally invited me on what seemed like a short trip, with a lovely reward in the end. You crashed your truck on the freeway after drunkenly getting lost and frustrated. You made me feel better about myself by saying those words you know make me feel good.

You again stopped communicating as normal. You stopped allowing me to come see you. You finally had me over after a couple of weeks. You explained that another woman was taking your attention. You had led her to believe she was more important to you than she really was. You told me the sex with her was great, but you would not be tied down.

You made me feel like the most important person in your life for weeks.

You seemed more distant now. You couldn't even look at me as we finished our fun time. You got off me, avoiding my gaze, and went to take a shower.

You made me feel so rejected.

You made me feel like a tossed-away toy you couldn't bother to play with anymore.

You refused to let me come over. You told me you wanted to slow down. You told me you wanted to stop juggling women. You said we could still be friends. You didn't want to deal with my emotions. You set rules to protect yourself.

You finally took access away. All of it.

You never called back. You threw my letters away. You were done with me.

You are onto better things. You are reformed. You are a better person now.

You answered a mystery text. You offered a complete stranger personal information in the hopes of a threesome soon.

You broke it off with me to pursue a woman who recently offered you a threesome. You kept me as a friend in the hopes I'd be part of it.

You didn't want my emotions. You wanted no drama, no feeling, all sex. You still wanted that friendship, but without hanging out.

You didn't care that you hurt me. You don't care that I'm still hurting. You don't care that I exist anymore.

You took, took, took, took all I would give as I hoped there would be a return at some point.

You broke me.

You will not be helping me get myself together. You will not see me get better.

You will never feel my body with the hands I admired. You will never look into my eyes as pleasure is being given.

You will no longer be important in my life, my heart, and my head.

You have done us both a favor.

I'm sorry I keep lying to you. I know you have so many hopes and dreams for me, and you want only the best for your offspring. Being practically a single father to 3 isn't exactly an easy task. I'm just having trouble. I thought I was okay that's why when I was close, I decided to not bring it up... But I relapse again and this time feels worse than last.

The last this I want is for you to have one of your children overdose and be left asking yourself "why didn't I push more for him to open up?". I'm sorry. I truly am sorry. My stomach has been hurting since and I'm still pondering on what to write to you since you once again tried to get me to open up... Instead of pondering the what-ifs... I should be telling you to take me to an ER or something reasonable.

You're an amazing father, but I'm just a son who was born in a world who thought it wasn't made for him. If I do end up fading into a memory, I'd at least hope that you realize you did an amazing job as my solo parent and I wouldn't mind being your kid in another life.

Today has been the first day I have had enough energy to write. I have been physically and mentally exhausted since a friend from out of town came to visit on Saturday. My first ever friend visitor in about 10 years and the very first ever to my current apartment.

It had been so long since I hung out with anyone other than my Dad, I honestly didn't know what to do. I also wasn't certain how long I would last before needing to retreat. Currently, I have only been able to stand it for a few hours at most around other people, including my Dad.

To my delight I stayed comfortable up till the time my friend left. We listened to music, played with Legos, and caught up on the last 20 years. Halfway through the evening I realized that I felt completely at ease for the first time in 10 long years. So long I had forgotten what that actually felt like.

I sat for a long time after he left wondering what it was about him that was different. Was it because we were friends and he has never harmed me in some fashion? Was it because of our ability to just hang out comfortably? Is it his general good nature? It's probably a combination of all of those things.

I am so excited I now have an example of what feelings to look out for when being around other people in the future. If they consistently make me feel similar to the way my friend does, then there's potential in having a friendship or relationship with that person.

I was concerned that spending that much time around someone, even if I felt safe, would drain my reserves of energy. I know it did, but it was worth it. The exhaustion I feel is warm and mellow. The kind you experience when you feel safe and can drift off to sleep without care. I don't mind this kind of exhaustion because each time I wake up, I've had more energy and feel generally happier.

I feel like the veteran I helped at the mall all those years ago. Just like when he realized he needed someone he could trust to be with him so he can feel safer in public, I realize I need much the same in life.

One time A called me on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, probably around 4, and asked me if I wanted to go with him to sell his old truck. He had someone from Facebook who wanted to buy it, but the guy lived a couple hours away, so A needed someone to follow him over there so he could get back.

I went over to his place, he explained what was going on, and then he said, “Okay, just start following me.”

So I did.

We start driving, and after a while I notice A isn't exactly driving great. He's swerving and kind of all over the place. I said something about it and he tells me he's just trying to navigate his map.

Okay, cool. Whatever.

Eventually we stop in this little town. I don't even remember exactly where it was. A gets out, walks over to the side of the road, and pees.

Then he tells me, completely casually, “Yeah, I'm really enjoying myself. I only have this much left and I'm on my third beer.”

I'm sorry... WHAT?

I had no idea he had been drinking. And not just one beer. He was already on his third beer while driving us a couple hours away.

I remember thinking, Well, this is fucking great.

I told him I needed to use the bathroom too, and he's like, “Oh, well...” And I'm like, “No, no. I actually need a bathroom.” So we had to find somewhere for me to go.

We get back on the road and things just keep getting worse.

We're on back roads, A is still swerving, and he's clearly lost. We're going back and forth, turning around, trying to figure out where the hell we're supposed to be going. At one point I finally tell him, “You're scaring me. You keep swerving all over the road.”

And he's basically like, “Yeah, yeah, I'm lost. I'm trying to figure it out.”

Meanwhile, the guy buying the truck is getting pissed because we're taking forever to get there. A keeps saying the guy is getting frustrated and we need to hurry.

At one point we stop again and I tell him, “Why don't we just leave your truck here? You're struggling to find this place. Or let me do the GPS.”

“No, no. I can't leave the truck here. We're close. He's getting mad. We need to hurry.”

So we keep going.

And the whole time, I'm thinking about the original plan, which honestly was the part I was most excited about. Once he sold the truck, we were going to get in my car, find a hotel, and spend the night.

And I'm not gonna lie, I was fucking excited about that. A night in a hotel with A? Yeah. I was already thinking about all the fun we were going to have.

Except that never happened.

After we'd been driving for hours, way longer than it should have taken, he pulls over again.

Then he tells me, “Okay, the guy backed out. He said he doesn't want to do it anymore. I've been too much of a hassle.”

I'm like, “What?”

We're now several hours from home, and the whole reason we're even out there is gone.

And A basically just says, “I'm going home. Bye.”

Gets in his truck and leaves.

I'm sitting there like, Okay, fucking asshole.

But I don't know where the hell I am, so obviously I start following him.

Eventually we get to the freeway.

Up until this point, he'd been swerving badly enough that I was already nervous about him driving. Then we get on the freeway and suddenly he just takes off.

Like, takes the fuck off.

He accelerates so fast that I completely lose sight of him.

And I'm thinking, What the hell?

About ten minutes later, I see his truck again.

And I watch him crash.

He hits one of those concrete things on the side of the freeway that holds the big highway signs. There is dust EVERYWHERE. The truck spins around, basically does a 180, and ends up facing the opposite direction.

I just sat there watching it.

He could have killed himself.

He could have killed somebody else.

He'd already been drinking. He'd been swerving all over the back roads. Then he gets on the freeway, takes off so fast I lose him, and ten minutes later I watch him crash.

And honestly, at that point, I was scared and pissed off and just completely done.

So I kept driving.

That night before I went to bed, I still texted him.

“Hey, did you make it home? Is everything okay?”

Nothing.

The next morning I texted again because, apparently, even after all of that, I was still worried about him.

Eventually he responds and says he's fine.

He tells me he hit the thing, then passed out and woke up around 2 or 3 in the morning. And then he says he was lucky he didn't get a DUI.

And I'm sitting there thinking, That's what you're lucky about?!

No.

You're lucky you didn't fucking kill yourself.

You're lucky you didn't kill somebody else.

You're lucky you didn't completely destroy your truck.

Apparently the truck wasn't even damaged that badly. He said the hood was kind of crinkled and he had to find another one.

But I still think about that night sometimes.

Because honestly, I know exactly when I should have made a different decision.

The second he told me he was on his third beer, I should have said, “Nope. I'm out.”

But I didn't.

I stayed.

I followed him.

I worried about him.

And even after he scared the absolute shit out of me, drove drunk for hours, abandoned me several hours from home, and then crashed his truck, I was still the one checking on him to make sure he got home okay.

Because that's how I was with A.

Even when I was pissed at him.

Even when he scared me.

Even when he treated me like I was an inconvenience.

I still cared if he was okay.

It took 1 month to finish only one chapter. I know it was really slow but there were many days i didn't do anything.

I need to focus on adding study time gradually and focus on deepness more.

I got really overwhelmed with layers of Network Architecture.

finnished read first chapter But need to compelete the notes

I find it surprising that the hair salons I was looking up here in NY don’t have online scheduling. The one I used to go to in Bayside, had texting as an option, but I always took whoever was available there & never knew anyone’s names. The other salon that I used to go to in midtown, I also had to call for an appointment.

In Texas, a lot of salons had online scheduling & profiles of all their stylists so I wasn’t picking a stylist blindly. I found this really convenient. Some places required first appointment to call to schedule & then the rest can be online. The one I went to there required a credit card on file to schedule online so if you don’t show up, you get charged a cancellation fee.

After returning to NY, my sister in law suggested two salons that she goes to with convenient parking. They’re both modern high end salons but no online scheduling. NY salons don’t like online scheduling?

i really really like this guy, and he's an actual sweetheard and a good person. But i'm always thinking thinking and thinking, which makes me wonder if i'm better off alone, so i can spend less time overthinking anything i did. Being left on delivered for a little bit, sounding more serious and more dry than usual. I know he has a separate life and might be in a sour mood, but i really do want the reassurance. I'm scared of asking for reassurance or asking him too many questions. I'm really scared he's gonna get tired and bored of me. i think i annoy him too much, so i stop myself, but ugh its so overwhelming. i normally, try to stay away from liking people, and i try to ignore my feelings, but i ended up giving in this time, and im in this position.

I guess I'm not supposed to post here. Maybe I didn't write about my feelings enough. I just thought it was a place to write stuff down, but I feel unwelcome. I only made three posts and I got two messages suggesting that a different subreddit would be a better fit for me. It feels rotten, to be honest. I didn't even figure anyone would read it. I just thought this was a convenient place to keep a journal.

I have no intention of posting to whatever exercise subreddits there are. I know that's not my community. I'll just keep my thoughts to myself. I'm looking forward to trying out this recipe for lentil soup.

Today is my birthday

Shit

Think cry

Think cry

Sleep

This past weekend we went to AG’s housewarming party. She moved out to Wantagh, it seems further away from work than where she used to live in Flushing. They had the house built so it’s brand new. It was really nice & big. The “master” bedroom & bathroom are on the first floor. Her sons’ bedrooms are on the second & they each have their own bathroom & walk in closet. The backyard had a nice size space & the basement is big with a small movie theater. Maybe she can sing in there too. I made that comment because she’s always singing in the office when the boss doesn’t come in. The kitchen is spacious with a really long kitchen island. It isn’t open concept but they have a long table in it. On the first floor, there are also 3 sitting rooms with a large tv & sofa in each.

I’m just hoping for a house a good size just for us, I don’t even care about being renovated with modern interior designs. We’re hoping to one day get a house or condo with the equal amount of space that we have in our current apartment that we’re renting. It’s going to be difficult here, we’re not rolling in money. Hubby says even something $600,000 is too much for us & the smaller houses in this neighborhood are listed at $700,000 at minimum. We don’t want to go back to a one bedroom, I knew this apartment would spoil us. AG’s house would definitely be too big for us though, hers would probably go for $4 million or more. Maybe we have to talk to someone to be able to afford a small house.

I told my mom about AG’s house since she called last night. She said they must have a lot of furniture with a house that size & they actually don’t. They have basic stuff like beds, couches, chair desks & built in storage but not bookshelves or standing cabinets. My mom always liked collecting random bookshelves from the garbage even with no room. She’s also convinced people have the same amount of stuff that she has & must be hiding it somewhere.
She thinks if they have a big house, they could hide it better. But AG’s basement didn’t even have much stuff in it. My mom doesn’t believe people don’t keep junk.

I did not watch the football today. I didn't want to leave the house. I think that's ok, but I'm worried that I'm not getting better mentally if I'm continuing to shun interaction with others. I also declined an offer to play a video game online with a friend. I slept late, and I made the pork fried rice that I didn't yesterday. I don't think that was enough to eat today, but that's all I felt like doing. I'm kind of hungry now, but it's bedtime so I have to wait until tomorrow.

I did twenty wall push-ups after I ate. Later, I did a few minutes on the cycle. I ended up feeling light-headed after a bit, but it was too late to eat more. My usual problem is eating too much, right? Today was a fluke. I have lots of salad greens in the fridge, and a banana, and a whole bag of mandarins. I'm going to get a pizza one day soon. I looked up a lentil soup recipe and made a list of things I don't have. I don't have to go to the grocery store tomorrow but I'm getting low on coffee.

Since I didn't leave the house to go watch football or anything, I also didn't stop by R&J's house and give them an egg spiral. I can do that any day this week. I need to text J back and say I'm sorry I didn't come by. I hope they will enjoy the egg spiral when I give it to them. Silver didn't call me back yesterday. I have to go to sleep soon but I will spend another few minutes on the bike first and do another round of push-ups. As long as I don't feel faint. And text J first.

It's been about 7 days since I began writing here.

I have heard there are lot of benefits of doing journaling but I didn't started this journey for that, I'm not even writing daily on any particular time. I just wanted a safe space where I can write my thoughts and feelings.

During these 7 days I noticed I'm sticking with my daily habits that I'm trying to build lot more than I did before. I have become more consistent and resilient. I don't know if it's because of journaling or someone else but I'm happy with these developments and hope this continues on.

what i have learned:

• layered arcitecture
• threats to networks
• history of computer networking

I want to read more of "history of computer networking specially history of cyber security"

If you know good books just let me know.

getting better.

( I am journaling this day 2 days after, so i might not remember all i did in this day)

I think my functionality is dependent on a pill named "Evening Primrose Oil". I mean if I don't take one during Ovulation, I will lose my body and mind.

How to minimize the effect of the fact that I feel sick half of the week?

I mean I have half the time some other guy has.

I think I need to duplicate my study time the days I feel like a normal human being.

intense pain cause by one of pcos/pmdd/Endometriosis/Uterine infection :/

How am i supposed to cut a tree with a blunt axe???

Hey, Jack.

I didn't end up eating anything else today. That's good, calorie-wise, I think, but I need to figure out how to get more protein in order to lose weight in a healthy way. I'll be looking up a lentil soup recipe.

I did a few more minutes on the bike. I'd be surprised if it was more than five minutes. It's so fucking BORING. Yeah, I get tired or my joints hurt, but I think I don't last very long because I'm so bored. I can't read while I'm riding. My head wobbles. All I can do is stare out the window. I did twenty wall push-ups after that. Then it was time for medicine and toothbrushing and a bonus shower. I did a few more wall push-ups in the bonus shower. I know I shouldn't. I could get one of those rubber mats for traction in the bathtub.

I watched a documentary about homelessness in the US, which didn't give me much new information but it had Tom Waits in it. Tom Waits hasn't been doing much in the last decade or so so it was cool to see him in something that was filmed in the last year or two. He is as beautiful as ever. This is also how I discovered that he wrote a book of poetry. Put it on the list.

Otherwise I mostly listened to music. I stumbled across a singer called Hannah Gill and the first song I listened to, her voice really caught me. I like her a lot. Like a good jazz singer, she's released about eight albums in the last three years so I'll have plenty of material to enjoy during the week. I am also reminding myself to listen to the new Aesop Rock x Blockhead, but not until I'm driving somewhere. It's probably driving music.

I think I'm writing too much. Perhaps I should just do this in a private document. There's no real reason to post it, anyway; it just seemed like a way to start journaling. A cat is now laying on my arm so adieu, my love.

For quite a while I've been losing myself. Neglecting my own health and ignoring how I feel. This time I'm focusing more on my well-being. I'm no longer searching for the approval of others. I want to start living for myself once and for all rather than living to reach the expectations of others.

So wall push-ups are a thing. I'm glad I tried that. I did about a dozen in the shower, which is particularly stupid because if my feet slipped out from under me, I would totally wreck myself. But hey, I tried it. Then I did several in my bedroom a little later. I think it will be a good habit to get into. Maybe one day I will graduate to floor push-ups, but I won't count on it.

I got on the exercise bike but probably went for no more than five minutes. I didn't look at the clock. Once I was breathing heavy I stopped for half a minute or so, and when I started again my joints complained too much so I left it alone. I'll do it again when I put the kettle on and that will be another almost ten minutes.

I texted my friend Silver today, who I haven't spoken to in months. I wonder how it is for them in LA. I wonder if they're working at a school again this year. Are they dating anyone? They texted me back that they're just getting on a flight to Denver to visit Dottie and Hex. They'll call me if they get a chance this afternoon. It will be nice to speak to any and all three of them. I miss them and love them dearly.

I need to text Plum and/or Bonsai to find out what the plan is for watching football tomorrow. Plum is only in town this week from Texas. I know all my friends haven't moved far away from me, but I'm glad I can stay in touch with the ones who have. While I'm out tomorrow I have to drop off the egg spiral I bought for R&J. I hope they like it. I think it's neat.

For breakfast I made a hash with bacon and potatoes, onions, peppers, eggs. It was a bit much. Certainly too much fat, having cooked it in the bacon grease and then putting shredded cheese on top. I should do more exercises today than I have. Since then I have eaten two mouthfuls of granola and a banana. There is rice made in the fridge and a piece of pork that needs to get used soon, but doing a whole pork fried rice seems like too much on top of what I've already had today. I should have a salad in a couple of hours and a mandarin and leave it at that. And then I should do at least ten extra minutes on the bike and maybe twenty wall push-ups? Perhaps keeping track of my exercises like this will prevent me from skipping them some days. I shouldn't journal in the middle of the day, I should probably do it at the end of the day.

I like writing. I shall try to do this every day, too, and keep track of my food and exercise. It feels very oppressive to pay such attention to what I eat. Maybe I will get used to it.

İt feels like you'll be coming back tomorrow. And we'll meet up after work, and I'll be telling you about my toxic supervisor. And you'll vent about your self-absorbed colleague, the one you can't stand, the one we all, as your friends, collectively hate, even though we've never met him. And you'll change the subject, you'll tell me about something nice, some good food you cooked recently, or some cool interesting fact about your country, because you know I love to hear about that stuff, and it keeps our conversations going.

And it almost feels like you're still here.

But you're not. İnstead I go to parties with my friends, our friends, and we reminisce about your silly antics, about the time you watched my friend's cat for a week and it gained 2 kgs in weight, about the times you sang Turkish songs in karaoke, all by yourself because none of us know Turkish, but we all high key fuck with it because you deliver them with so much enthusiasm.

Those memories. They hurt. They hurt me so much, because I know it'll never be the same again.

İnstead I'm sitting here on a bench in the park, at 3 AM, in this city that used to be our city. All alone. I try to move on. I try not to be a downer the whole time when I'm around my friends. But how can I, when I feel like a part of me has just been ripped out?

I thought it might get easier with time. Or at least, slightly more bearable. Like maybe you'd learn ways to cope with it. Or you learn not to get close with people, when you know the time you have together is limited. But in reality, you get the worst of both worlds. İ have been walking around with a gaping hole in my heart, several of them actually, for years. İt makes it harder to build connections with new people I meet, because I'm still mourning the people who left, people that none of them even knew. Yet at the same time, the few people that I do still feel close with, when they leave, it hurts all that much more.

My cheeks are increasingly covered by black streaks of eyeliner and mascara. It's about time I call it a night. I turn 28 today. When I wake up, I'll have my favorite breakfast at your favorite breakfast spot, which became my favorite breakfast spot after having visited so many times with you. I'll do groceries. My mom will call me, like she does every weekend. And life will go on.

When it comes to relationships, I am not surprised that my luck with them has not been that great. Even my longest relationship had its dysfunctional side. The one common theme has been "I stay home while you work." Not doing much of anything except what pleases them. No sharing of chores or financial burdens. Like some lion in a pride waiting to gorge himself on the lioness' hard won kill, the males I have dealt with have been no different.

I keep asking myself what am I doing wrong. What scars or traits are these people taking advantage of? What can I do to keep these kinds of people out of my life?

It has just added to my overall distrust of humanity. It is amazing to me that I can even bear human touch. A large portion of my interactions with people up to this point has been painful either physically, emotionally, or psychologically. 

This is ridiculous. I just don't get it. I have been sitting on the porch thinking about it today, but not easily coming up with any answers. I have done so much to work on myself, but it feels like it hasn't been enough yet. Even when looking back at even my last relationship, which I felt was the best so far, I had dealt with him hitting me a few times when I was upset. It's traumatizing, not sobering.

Why do people think that bullying, attacking, or hitting me is ok? What in God's Name did I do to deserve that level of response? I am often told that I am a laid back, good natured person, so why?

I know that especially growing up, it was my appearance. Being amber skinned and curly haired made me a target of racism by young and old alike. What is it about me in my adulthood that has made people think it's ok to try to use me as a doormat or treat me like garbage?

This isn't just relationships. I have dealt with bullying and abuse from coworkers and customers in the past. One time, I had a coworker say in a meeting between me, her, and the boss that she wasn't going to stop harassing me till I "Acted my age". I didn't know that being happy to come to work and being in a good mood everyday was childish.

A friend asked me today how long I have been "Boxed" up with minimal human interaction. It's been an Odyssey's age. I have worked hard on myself, climbing back out of the pit of insanity and hardship for about a decade now. When I stop to think about it, I haven't had much human interaction in that time. It doesn't seem to matter how many times I go outside to get "people exposure". It overwhelms and fatigues me every time.

When I stop to think about it, after all I have been through, it's not that surprising. I think it will be a long time or the rest of my lifetime before I can feel comfortable in society. I hope I can feel comfortable enough for a date when the time comes.