stress – Page 2

Silence Isn’t Weakness — It’s Strategy

Let me talk about these two girls real quick. Yes, both of them have made appearances on my blog before, and yes — they’re back again because apparently, they don’t learn. And trust me, I’m trying to keep it respectful, but these girls be trying it. And I really mean trying it.

Girl #1.

She had the audacity to hit my phone going off about a blog post like I was supposed to be scared of her. As if I wouldn’t rock her sh—anyway. I let that situation slide. Never even got an apology, but I’m not the type to hold hate in my heart. I thought we were cool. Cordial, at least. Especially since we share someone we both care about — someone who wouldn’t want to see us fighting.

She came to my birthday. We were cool. But I realized real quick — she’s one of those people who takes more than she gives. I wish my dog could see that. He’s a good man. Solid. He does everything he can for her, and it’s never enough. She’s ungrateful. A social media groupie who thinks she’s Latto, Megan, and Nicki rolled into one, with zero talent to back it up. Just a chicken head clucking on the timeline.

She said getting my dog a pinky ring for his birthday was “too much” and got him a PS4 controller instead. But when it’s her birthday? Valentine’s Day? Christmas? She expects the world. Cluck cluck cluck, that’s all she really knows how to do.

But it gets worse. She put her hands on my dog. Yeah, you heard that right. On a man who doesn’t deserve that. A good man. And the crazy part? When she got called out on it, she laughed. Like it was a joke.

I wasn’t there, but I saw the video. And I swear, the revenge fantasies I had? Jail-worthy. But I have too much to lose. And I know God’s going to handle what I can’t. Because if the roles were reversed, and he laid a hand on her, he’d be in jail.

And all this? Over a missed text? Girl, are you okay?

She blew up because he didn’t respond fast enough while he was with his day ones. Next day, he’s scrambling to make things right with her. And I’m over here like — I can’t even defend him if this is what he keeps running back to.

She doesn’t love him. She wants to own him. She confuses control with closeness. And I hate that I’ve been dragged into it. But I’ve been forced in — intentionally and unintentionally. So now I’m watching his choices in women create problems for me. And it’s tiring.

Now on to girl #2.

I work with this one — thankfully, not for much longer. Not because I can’t handle her, but because she can’t handle me.

We got called into work early one morning. I had just finished a shift at midnight and had to be back by 8. I’m walking up, tired, annoyed, and she’s standing at the door holding it open for everyone… until she sees me. And lets it close.

Like, girl — are you blind? Or just stupid?

She’s lucky I didn’t kick that door down with her walrus-built body standing behind it. But another coworker saw and let me in. I greeted her and walked right past Miss Flipper like she didn’t exist.

Later, during the meeting, I hear her gossiping about me to the same girl who let me in. And of course, the story’s one-sided. But I’m not one to go backwards. I had moved on — or at least I tried to.

Still, I won’t lie: I wanted to stand up and snap. Slap her across the mouth on some Will Smith time and tell her to, “keep my f-ing name out of your mouth” But again — I’ve got too much to lose. I can accomplish way more using my mind than I ever could with my fists.

Here’s the thing:

I’m not mean. But people are pushing me. Testing me. And just because I care — about loyalty, about love, about doing right — doesn’t mean I won’t call it how I see it. Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’ve got empathy and emotional intelligence — and that’s exactly why I choose silence over scenes, peace over pettiness, and growth over gossip.

I don’t need to get in anyone’s face. I don’t need to throw punches. Because writing is my punch. But just because I’m empathetic doesn’t mean I’m soft. Just because I think things through doesn’t mean I won’t call you out.

I’m not here to make everyone feel good.

I’m here to speak the truth.

Journal Entry #9

I must be on God’s list this year. Because there’s no way my life should feel this unfulfilling right now.

I have the most disrespectful little cousin. It’s downright disgusting. Saying things like make sure to pull his pants up after I’m done dick-riding. Like what? How disrespectful. Yuck, nobody wants that scrawny, hard-to-find shit. It made me want to cut him off for life. Maybe that’s cool with the younger part of my generation but not with me.

Then there’s all these boys who want to be around me, want to flirt, want to talk—but don’t ever want to show up for me.

One calls himself my work husband, but the minute I asked him for a favor, he told me he would do it then he went MIA—until I said never mind. Then suddenly he responded.

I asked another guy for the same favor, one who promised to call me the night before. I called him—no answer.

Some of them just ignored me altogether.

Even Hallo disappointed me. I was telling him about something that happened with one of his friends (who likes me), and he brushed it off like it was nothing.

It’s not that people can’t disagree with me. It’s how they do it.

He asked me to explain, to give him my time—and then told me, “It’s not that deep.”

That’s the part that pisses me off. I gave him my attention, my energy, my feelings—and got dismissed.

Even my cousin—someone I used to be super close with—has been distant. He doesn’t pick up my calls, doesn’t text back. And when he does call, it’s only to talk about the women in his life.

I’m scared he’s going down a dark path.

Puppy Blog #4

Sometimes, I like hearing her cry.

It balances out the stress she causes me.

God forbid I put her in her playpen for a few minutes—with all her toys, treats, and blankets—only for her to still throw a fit.

So yeah, cry. Get it all out.

Because you’re not coming out.

I have things to do.

Things around the house.

And I can’t trust you not to pee or poop all over it.

I have to go to work—to keep the lights on, to keep food in your bowl.

You just don’t give a damn about the things I’m going through.

A couple of minutes in your playpen won’t kill you.

I wake up at the crack of dawn to walk you.

And you can’t give me five minutes to myself without a meltdown?

You do whatever you want—bite everything, bark when you don’t get your way.

So spoiled.

I’m annoyed and frustrated. I’m asking myself why I ever decided to get a dog in the first place? Why would I sign up for this?

Sometimes I hate it when you cry, I try to tiptoe around the house so you don’t wake up or hear me, but your senses are far too great.

I avoid moving so that you don’t wake up and start crying again

Sometimes I miss being by myself. But now I can’t imagine life without you.

You’re a good girl.

But you give me a headache.

This is 26 🎉🎂🥳

Let me start by saying: today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me.

And let me finish by saying: my patience is being tested at record levels.

We all know I don’t like when things don’t go my way. Now multiply that by ten—because it’s my birthday.

People love to tell me what they can and can’t do. It’s always me compromising.

I hate being there for people who don’t show me the same courtesy.

I hate when people don’t respond to my messages.

I hate when I ask a question and people act like they didn’t hear me.

I hate how inconsiderate people are.

I hate the games people play.

I hate that when someone disrespects me, I have to get out of character just to be heard—and still somehow end up the bad guy.

I hate putting others’ needs before my own.

I hate not getting everything I want.

I hate not being able to control everything.

I hate that my blog doesn’t get much traffic.

I hate how much I think about people who don’t think about me.

I hate how people always make everything about themselves.

I hate when my dog doesn’t listen.

I hate not being understood.

I hate people who play victim.

I hate compromising.

I hate failing.

I hate when God doesn’t talk to me.

I hate not feeling like myself.

I hate feeling insecure.

I hate feeling unloved.

I hate feeling ignored.

I hate feeling like I can’t be myself.

I hate feeling like I’m not important.

I hate feeling like I’m not special.

Though I’ve expressed my feelings through this post I still have so much anger. There is still so much left to say. I have a feeling at the bottom of my heart. Discouragement scapes the depths of my brain. Irritation is at the root of my emotions. On the edge of becoming numb and forgetting the world and its people. Forgetting that I care for people, forgetting they have emotions and they too need someone to lean on. But when am I going to stop letting people have full access to me when I barely have partial access to them?

I know this is kind of negative for my birthday—but honestly, what better way to start it off than with a little cathartic writing?

Journal Entry #6

I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. Maybe it’s my period about to start, maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or maybe I’m just frustrated that nothing is going my way. I thought yoga was supposed to calm me down, but honestly, it’s had the opposite effect. I didn’t get much sleep last night because I was too busy worrying that Whiskey would start crying and need me. I was anticipating her disturbing my peace before it even happened.

We had fun this morning when I took her for a walk. She’s been so good about not going to the bathroom inside, and I love those little moments where she listens and we connect. But small things are starting to get on my nerves. Like when I was trying to cut the hair by her eyes, and of course, she kept moving. I mean, why wouldn’t she? I was using something sharp near her eyes. She follows me everywhere and cries when I leave the room. I’m trying to train her to stay in her playpen, but she was howling to get out. I didn’t want to reinforce that behavior, but she found her way out anyway.

Then there was the car ride. I had to drop her off at my parents’ house because I had to go to work, and she started off so well—sitting, laying down, just chilling. But out of nowhere, she tried climbing out. I was driving, and it was frustrating trying to get her to stay in the travel crate. I leave the top open so she doesn’t feel trapped, but I still needed her to stay put. I had to gently push her back in, but I was losing patience. I ended up yelling at her, and she still didn’t listen. She’s a good girl, but man, she’s starting to get on my nervesssss.

When I dropped her off at my parent’s house, I went through all the stuff I brought for her—food, toys, everything. But my dad brushed me off and said they had it. Like, what? I’m trying to make sure she’s okay, and he just dismissed it. It makes me wonder if I should leave her with someone else. But I guess that’s what happens when the service is free.

On top of all that, my bills are coming up, and despite applying to so many jobs, I’ve had no luck. The job I’m at now plays favorites, and I’m getting fewer hours every week. They keep making these long lists of tasks, and I’m just thinking—why would I go the extra mile when I only get hours when their favorites call out? Let them do it.

I asked my friend a simple yes or no question, and have been on delivered for 2 days. Yet when she texts me she expects me to answer right away. She’s okay with leaving me downtown alone, breaking the girl code. She was even ready to leave her best friend at a hookah lounge over a disagreement. It’s like she thinks the world revolves around her. And when she does text me, it’s only about going out and getting attention from men she’s too afraid to talk to in the first place.

Lately, I’ve been feeling irritable, and maybe it’s because I like things my way.

Things in my life are starting to change. I can feel my circle shifting, and my life is moving in a different direction. It’s frustrating and uncomfortable, but I’m finding a way to deal with it through writing. That’s where I feel most in control.