I’m taking part in 31 day self challenge. . . From http://www.7cups.com
That I posted here. . . https://beckyms1213blog.wordpress.com/2018/10/01/im-trying-to-better-myself-2/
Day 1: Self Esteem Challenge – List 10 things that you love about yourself. (Physical or personality)
1. My writing http://rebekahquinne.wordpress.com
2. My musical ability
3. Giving nature
4. Strength
5. Control
6. Endurance
7. My hope
8. Sense of humor
9. My hair
10. My eyes
I do not want kids. I like sleeping in. I like going out. I like to write without “butthead is hitting me.” “He called me a butthead”
Please do not tell me that you’ll spoil me and only me, but secretly leave your kids hanging. (If you are a kid person, please do not have more than you can afford. Please don’t make you or them struggle for food or a roof over your head.)
I’m not mean to be mom or a step mom, and I do not want to be. I’ve learned the “I love your dad and I want us to be friends. . . It is very tricky.
(I also don’t go to the bar or other locations and take any random guy home. I am dominant, monogamous, demisexual, saphiosexual, and grey sexual. This means I’m seeking a smart, submissive boyfriend for a female led relationship possible marriage. I’m seeking more of the relationship than the sex. The grey sexual part means I’m picky in who I am attracted to. I have health issues, in which I cannot physically enjoy sex. So it’s really going to take someone over special to not want kids or sex.)
Currently, I’m seeking friends, around my age, but preferably those without kids. . . It’s not your fault or your kids fault, but I’m going down a path with no kids in it. This is a very rare find, I know. ( I write about ghosts, vampires, violence, and sex . . . Mature audiences only.)
I just want to enjoy a night without a call from the babysitter or without the million stories of how Jr walked early or how he looks like the mail man which he has cussed out.
If you have kids, please seek someone else. I think you should find those with kids too, so you can plan fun dates with and without your kids. (Just a suggestion. . . )
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I was not always against kids, but I got burnt out in college. (When my last obygn told me that I have like a less than a 5% chance of having a healthy, complete pregnancy, I knew kids are not in my cards.)
My first story that freaked me out with infant was when I changed my brother. I was 12 and my stepmother was going to Wal-Mart, she was only going to be gone 20 minutes, but of course during that time my brother decided to mess in his diaper. He was about 6 months, the age where they roll and crawl. I found the last diaper, put it on the couch, put him on the couch, but I lost the baby wipes. . . Grrr. I was looking for the damn wipes. I found them, he was only rocking back and forth, but still on the couch.
I took off his dirty diaper and clean up but then the clean diaper was gone. I moved him, but it was not under him. I put him back on the couch as I look behind the couch I heard a splat and the a shrieking cry. My baby brother had rolled off the couch on to the hard wooden floor. I grab the baby and the diaper on the floor as it was under the couch.
I put him on the couch, and checked him head to toe. . . There were no bumps, no bruises. He was okay. I’m freaking out still which was why he was still crying. I put his diaper on him and tried to call him down.
Once she got home, I told my stepmother who checks him over and give me a mixture of laughter, yelling, lecturing me (as if she was communicating me with different personalities, I felt like I was talking to Glenda the good witch, the wicked witch, and a mama dragon.) Then my stepmother said “I’m telling your father.” I’m freaking out crying in the shower thinking I’m going to get grounded because I am not responsible, because my stepmother is going to make it sound that I wanted to hurt my baby brother. . . In reality it was just accident.
I told my dad when he got home, he looked over my brother, and just said “be more careful next time.”
(It didn’t help that I had just hit by a car months before this incident.
I can’t hold a baby or change a baby under a year without freaking out in fear I’ll hurt that one too. I’m too nervous, scared, and anxious that I’m accidently going to hurt anyone else’s kid.
I dont know how I managed to take care of my youngest brother, but from the moment I got my first drivers tempts I blocked out from the years 15 and half to almost 18.)
My younger brothers were usually well-behaved boys who knew their “pleases” and “thank yous.” (I liked to think my walks and cars and cookies bribes were teaching in that.)
If I just had my brothers after school, I would probably still want kids, especially like them.
However, I would have help with breakfast, mornings (I’m not a morning person), when I got home school, and if I didn’t have to work. My average school day, get up, help make boys breakfast, eat breakfast, get them dressed, go to school, get home, watch the boys, try to get homework done, make dinner, eat, bath boys, shower, finish homework, sleep repeat. (I rarely had time to myself or with my friends. . . All because my stepmother had back and depression problems that mixed with a biological clock.)
My dad pushed the education major so when I had ear problems and couldn’t finish my music major, so I logically switched. I was good with my brothers, so I thought I would be good with kids. I’m not sure what precalculas had to do with teaching junior high math. . . But I was first Math and English teacher. . . I got a multi-varible calculas professor trying to teach me as if I know what kind of math that was. . . So I changed to early education. . . At the time I was volunteering for my brother’s elementary class. His classmates were all sweet and most were very helpful. I did enjoy it, but I don’t know if I could emotionally handle getting attached to kids for a year and them having to let them go.
At the time, I would voluteer once a month for nursery at the church, the toddler side, not infant side. My stepmother got sick one week so I took her week (as parents who use it are supposed to volunteer once every six weeks in order to allow everyone to attend service.) Then my stepmother started to volunteer me for her friends to, saying it looked good on my educational resume. However this happened for over seven months in which I never got to go to service. (My dad finally caught on and made sure I stopped volunteering as I was getting taken advantaged of.)
At the time, I was taking early education courses only to find out as soon as I finished them the main college said everything I learned was out of date and they had newer lessons and I were to repeat three of my courses in order to keep early childhood education major. However I was not to get any refunds or credits for previous classes. I had not been out with anyone my age for months and burned, I had a break down. I changed my major to English as if too me 6 years to get a basic Associate of Arts.
I have been diagnosed with high anxiety, panic attacks, depression, and PTSD. . . I do not want that around kids.
I rather just have cats, maybe a dog or two, but that is another blog.
I learned babysitting with one than one kid is good birth control.
I learned I will always goid to Hell and back for anyone of my siblings.
My sleep apnea makes me tired all of the time, but between 5am and 11am, I am at my worst. I am not a morning person. Coffee barely helps, but when it does, I make sure to get things done. (Especially when I have to do my chores and my mom’s chores, while she is down from her hernia surgery.)
Yes this sounds like a normal to-do list for someone, but it’s hard when I am fighting energy when I have multi-health issues.
Why am I analyzing myself with the questionnaire questions and articles from Eharmony?
Note: for those who do not know Eharmony is a Christian online date site which uses many questions to figure out your just right partner if they have that person online too.
So why am I doing this (especially when I failed their questionaire twice and was kicked off the site once when I said I thought I was bi-curious.)
First, I I usually overanalyze most things and dating is not different. Some things I’ve overanalyzed, I’ve gotten right and other things I’ve learned from.
Second, I’m not doing this to date (yet), but I hope to learn more about myself. (If I find friends who get me or maybe Mr. Right-for-me, then awesome. I’m here to learn first.)
Third, I really love answering questions and talking surveys and quizzes about myself.
My mom used to tell that . . . “Opposite attract.” That might be right in science, but mom and dad were opposites and they didn’t last. (Its also probably why I argue with myself too. J/k lol.)
I think for partners, there needs some similarities and some differences to keep things interesting p. As long as they keep communication open and honest, that is what is most important.
I need to know myself and get my “stuff” together before I can get someone else involved in the chaotic fun that is me. Lol.
I love to write. The feel of a good pen in my hands as it glides on the page. It invites the words, the color, the creativity.
However my hands have been swelling and cramping for weeks now. I tried water pills, but I sleep and they are swollen again. There are cramps as I write. Pushing down on my palm hurts, moving it too much hurts.
It hurts to hold a pen or a fork. It hurts to make a fist. These damn cramps. I probably have arthritis or carpal tunnel syndrome.
I refuse to give up my writing. I felt due my ear issue, I had give up music. I’m not giving up my writing too.
Maybe I can get my computer fixed soon . . . So I can type more.
I’m going to the doctor soon.
I do enjoy sleep when I have good dreams and the air is just right not too hot or too cold. The blanket is comfy and smells good. I wake up actually feeling refreshed.
This usually only happens maybe 1 time out every 50.
I usually wake up stiff, tired or exhausted (like I didn’t sleep at all). I’ve either hot, cold, in pain, with a headache. . . Or have to wake up due to my bladder or panic attack or choking with breathing problems.
Sometimes I can sleep for 12 hours and feel like I had not slept all. Sometimes I can run all day on four good hours of sleep, again, this is rare. My depression makes me want to sleep even more and not get out of bed.
I have sleep apnea where I do not get enough air in or out. I snore very loud, get dry mouth, grind my teeth, wake up with jaw pain, and headaches.
Apnea makes me wake up choking, my lips to be blue due to lack of oxygen, my head is foggy and it’s hard to focus, my eyes twitch, my eyes are heavy. I get migraines and my stomach don’t settle.
My animea makes me exhausted. I was so tired from the lack of blood cells that I have choked on my food several times.
Caffeine or lack of caffeine really screws me up. If I drink coffee or energy (no ginsing) at the wrong times and my day and night schedules are off.
My anxiety fills my head will ideas and I’m up with insomnia, but I am usually a zombie.
With all of these problems sleep is hard for me.
I’m writing Short Stories.
I put my feelings in each one. These are flash fiction but very personal. In the last few year my heart and soul shattered, each of these pieces are my a piece of shattered heart and soul.
I hope to find myself and piece myself together.
I’m posting them on my Short Story blog. . .
Between PTSD and depression, I have not been happy.
I’ve tried sims, cooking and the rest of my content list. . .
1. Listening to music
2. Comfortably writing for hours
3. Soda pop
4. Shopping
5. Walking
6. Getting out or dinning out
7. Talking to friends
8. Cats
9. Watching funny TV
10. Going to the movies
I just can’t get or find happiness. Why?
Why don’t people listen to me when I say they can’t handle me?
I have depression and anxiety, and there are times I cannot deal with life. I need to go into my Sim games, my art, my walking, or most of my fictional writing. It is a process for me to come back to me. I’m usually a very positive, perky person, but over the years, life has worn me down.
I need positive people. I need someone who will encourage me, to keep my spirits up.
I do not need someone who complains about everything in life. I do not need someone so toxic that even the sun shine is bitch. I met someone like this. . . and tried to be friends. He never ask me about me, just complained about everything from work to his place to food. He even tried to joke about his complains, thinking he was being cute. A complaint is a complaint whether you whine, snap, bitch, or laugh about it. I couldn’t take it, and said whatever. (That was my depression talking, but I realize I couldn’t help him, and he was pulling me down. He made me feel insecure of who I was, and I had to save myself.)
I did feel bad he had no friends, but now I know why.
Then he said he was done, but I’m not going to fight back. I know is going to complain about me. I have my own problems. However I hope down the road, he find someone special and string who makes his complaints fade away. (Even though I’m hurt, I still hope he finds happiness. That is just who I am.)
Level One
Level Two
Level three
Level four
Note: Usually after Level Four these don‘t work or they take more work to achieve.
Level five
Level six
Level seven
By levels six and seven you may need others to help you.
I been on all levels. I try to stop myself by level four.
Anything can cause depression and you can start at any level depending on the trigger.
Not everything happens for everyone. If you get to level five or higher get help. 7 Cups is a therapy website that really helps me.
In my head 