I graduated!! I’m officially a dog groomer, my actual job title being Petco Pet Stylist and I’m so happy!! I’ve been working with animals for 3 years in salons that either weren’t very safe, weren’t very good or just plain not a good fit for me. I even had a salon hire me and tell me that they were going to train me to be a groomer just for it to come out later that they were NEVER going to train me and basically planned on me being their little bather bitch forever (Heather and Buffy were the only real people there!!!) which is practically a dead end job. Now I have a career where I can make actual money and be able to support myself and anything I want to do. And the absolute best thing about my career is that I can continue to learn new things and perfect my craft literally until I stop grooming! It’s like being a forever student and I will never be bored.
I can’t believe I made it. When I started the academy I was severely ill, pregnant, depressed and frustrated. Throughout my training things only got worse; I ate crap food, gained weight, my car broke down on the side of the road and I was never able to get it back (cant afford it), my mom went crazy and decided that the money she promised to give me to help with my rent was better spent on helping my alcoholic brother complete his 3rd stint in rehab, my parents divorced, I aborted my child and could barely afford my home and my rides to and from work. I ended up having to go back to making porn videos and felt like I would never be able to accomplish anything without using my looks/body. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think about killing myself. I was waking up every morning with severe nausea and I’d crawl out of bed, vomit and make my way into academy just to be confused and depressed because everyone was ahead of me. I felt so much dumber than everyone else and all I wanted to do was give up.
But on February 6th, 2019 I prayed and said that no matter what happened I would finish and pass my 3 dog technical. What followed was the worst week of my life where I woke up sick and shaking, crying, coughing and vomiting. I had to stay at my friends house because she was driving me to and from work which meant I wasn’t eating or sleeping well (through no fault of her I just needed to be home) and I was so sick I almost got fired for snapping on my teacher because my dogs were ridiculously bad.
Finally, on February 11th, 2019, I was the first person of not only my class but this new academy to test out and become a groomer! It means the world to me. I finally started something and saw it through to the end. I accomplished something using my brain and talent, not my body. I have a skill that I can use to further my career, support myself and help others! I’m essentially my own business and one day I might want to open an official grooming business. I’m a black woman in a predominantly white field and I want to help other black women who want to be groomers have a place where they feel comfortable to work and I’ve completed the first step in that goal.
Like….so so sooo bored.
I’m not used to not having a car so I’ve been stuck at home everyday, which is fine, but NORMALLY when I’m stuck home alone I either have drugs, alcohol or food to binge and purge when I get bored (I mean obviously it’s not JUST because I’m bored but it can trigger it) but now that I gotta man up and hop off the bullshit, stay sober and I can’t binge and purge because I’m extremely limited on food, I’m disgustingly bored. My only hobby is running and there’s fucking snow on the ground so I’m just BORED!!!!
Am I really this boring of a person? That’s embarrassing. My whole life my personality was based off of being a bulimic/drug addict/ failure of a human. I don’t have that anymore so I guess I’m just a blank personality.
I need a hobby.
And I’m sad about it. I don’t really understand why it should matter to me. I’m 26 years old, they SUCKED as parents, I really don’t feel much love towards either of them but for whatever reason when I found out that they were separating I was sad. I got anxious. I started to binge and purge but only had a pizza crust and just purged that.
I even cried.
I don’t understand. I’m an adult, I barely see my family or talk to them to care enough about what they do. But my heart hurt. I’m worried about how my little sister is doing but our relationship is so strained that it would be weird if I asked her. My brother is in rehab again and I have no idea how that’s going for him. My other sister is moving in with my mom next month….I dunno.
I just wanna go on a run.
Warning: gross as fuck.
Happy holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Thanksgiving and a Happy fucking Halloween to everyone. I can’t remember how long it’s been so I figured I’d cover them all.
Yesterday I started my period. This was an exciting moment as it meant I wasn’t pregnant and the abortion I had back in November was successful. I felt wonderful for about 12 hours until the worst fucking side effects kicked in at 5 in the morning: the diarrhea, the cramps, the nausea, the river of blood. I had to lay on the floor this morning because my bed was too soft and it made my back hurt so bad I was in tears. I figured it would be this bad as I haven’t had a period since September but I definitely forgot how much it fucking sucks.
Oh well, at least I get to start the new year with a fresh pussy.
The intense, mind-numbing boredom.
I can honestly say that I’ve been so bored I’ve wanted to kill myself. Especially when the boredom is coupled with anxiety….how am I supposed to go on?
I’ve been missing running more than ever lately. I miss training for a race, setting my goals, overcoming them or even the days when I couldn’t reach them, it didn’t matter as long as I was out there running. The freedom from life, the peacefulness, being able to just check out from this planet and go into day dream land. Looking up races, signing up for races, buying running gear. It gave me an identity, it meant something to me. I was finally something other than the bulimic or the failure, I was a runner and I felt it. I truly felt that I was a runner. I was experiencing life instead of watching it from the sidelines and it was amazing! I felt like I was breathing air for the first time after living underwater my entire life.
And now, I’m back underwater. Struggling to get my head back to the surface and I just can’t seem to keep it there. I’m going running on Thursday but I know it won’t feel like it did before. I have to work up to that.
I miss breathing.
Oops,I guess I disappeared for awhile. I have a habit of doing that, it’s not like anyone notices and I’m never gone for long. I wish I could say I’ve been busy doing cool things like running or recovering or discovering an ancient underground city but the truth is I’ve been doing a lot of nothing. So much nothing that I want to blow my fucking brains out,
I’ve been a little depressed too. I started school, got sick and I’ve been trying to fight this sickness ever since. It’s really been getting my mood down. I had a health scare last year and I had to leave my job and I pray that I’ve finally recovered so I don’t have to repeat that.
I also had an abortion. Two days ago actually. I’m still physically recovering from it. Emotionally…..I’m in and out of numbness, anger and sadness. I did what I had to do to make sure my life could stay on the path that I want it to. I was so sick during the pregnancy, I can’t afford to do that right now. I fought so hard to get where I am (and I’m barely anywhere) I refuse to let anything get in my way. It was my own fault. Didn’t use protection so I have to deal with the consequences. They suck tho, as consequences tend to do.
It’s a shame we don’t talk more about abortion tho. The nurse told me that 1 in 4 women get one. That’s a lot of people to be keeping this a secret. So to whoever is keeping this a secret you can let it out here. My blog is about being completely open and honest, there’s no room for shame here.
And I planned on only having coffe and rice for dinner. However, my bf bought me a turkey sub and I had a burger and fries…I’m horrified to know my calories for the day and honestly it was such a stressful day that I’m going to give myself a little peace and not count them. However, that’s proving to be more stressful than my entire day. Such a stupid thing too. Calories. Tiny little numbers that don’t really matter but somehow can manage to make me want to kill myself and everyone around me if i eat even one over my limit.
Sometimes I want to go back in time and kill the person that invented calories, but I’d end up obsessing over something else so who cares?