Am I Actually Upper Middle Class? :

I’ve been struggling to find a way to become independent from my family for the last year or two. I think it is the biggest step a person can take in moving past having family issues is to not rely on them in such an all demanding way. The problem is I’ve lived my life as a spoiled middle class girl that wasn’t supposed to work. You could say my savings and job related skills were minimal.

All of that aside, I was sitting with a friend one day going over what I now know about money and how I want to take steps towards separating financially from my family by the time I graduate undergrad and a comment was made about me owning stocks. It was made to connect the dots with being someone in the upper middle class economic bracket. And being told that got me thinking about being middle class. I mean first off, owning stocks doesn’t equal having actual money. I mean it is mostly used for continuous reinvestment that you don’t touch until future unless emergency. Plus, when shit goes bad in the market you lose the money. Yea, there is privilege about knowing about stocks, but it is definitely not a type of thing you can wake up and buy and then have a bunch of money.

And my grandparents, the one who provide for my family’s lifestyle? Well, my grandpa is his old age still gets up between 4 and 5 in the morning to prepare to work all day in the store. I kind of get why he is a crabby Republican. He was definitely someone who never got much from the government except the benefits of being in the army. However, it was the Vietnam era and so were benefits even worth that much if the risk was such more while serving? He thinks he achieved the American dream for his family of poor immigrants, but I’m not so certain. My grandmother on the other hand is completely pessimistic about the American dream. Hard work can only go so far for her. Yet, she works even harder than my grandfather.

My grandmother grew up in a wealthy family that had to spend the money to about every other person or vice in the family then her. She didn’t go to college and she didn’t have a chance to work much, because she married young and became a house wife. My grandparents didn’t have money in those days. My grandma’s family only helped my grandfather find a job and take them out for a weekend dinner. So she became the Queen of Couponing and making all your furniture. When she even got the nice house though there was still struggles. Where we were in the ‘middle class bracket’ would constantly go up and down. Sometimes, they could afford a second house. Other times they had to sell it. Sometimes I could afford private school. Other times my mom had to take a less paying job to work at the school for reduced tuition or I had to get a scholarship.

But you don’t see all of that, because being anywhere in the realm of middle class you are dressed up presentable. Comments can’t or shouldn’t be made because then you would be a snob, or undeserving of your luck. It doesn’t matter if you yourself don’t care about money, or if you are only trying to understand the worth of it. It seems to constantly be going, so up and down no matter where you started (unless you are super rich then you really don’t have that problem).

But even if I was still upper middle class, I got a lot of problems. A lack of money always seems to be a more physical problem. However, having money always seems to bring psychological ones. A shit ton of them. I mean the wealthy side has disowned and abandoned the middle class side. Eight to nine years later they still don’t talk. My mother expects a paycheck from me if I exceed in any manner of economic stability in the future….Well, I don’t think that one is such a bad thing. You know, tradition, family paying back what’s due or someone’s care. Although, my grandparents point that out as wrong. Ah…whatever this isn’t about my mother’s shallow future shoe or botox collection.

I think it just about with money you always get a struggle and you never seem to know your place. There is the broad sense of you are poor, so it doesn’t matter to the world technically how poor you are. There is the out of the realm sense where you are so rich it is painful to know how much, or else you will become a maniac. There’s the middle class where you are so overly critical that you are constantly filling out paperwork or questionnaire’s to know technically where exactly you stand.

But see. In any case you still have problems. And in my case, even if my family is middle class, they don’t just pull out a card and give me what I want. It’s always what they think I should want. I still had to work for my interests alone on my own dime… and not any dimes I earned from owning stocks.

I kind of hate money even if it important for society… It is always leaving a sticky imprint on everyone’s’ lives.

I can’t even afford rent on my own. Independence is a far away dream,

I.L. Knight

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She Works Hard For The Money – Donna Summer

Ruining My Happy Place:

Whelp, I moved houses. And this new house has been super great, it fits every box for a warm happy home that is conducive to living a new chronic life. An added bonus: it is next to the Japanese gardens in my town. It is a great place I love to just sit in silence and like find some time to myself and be around nature. It is a happy place for me in a town that has historically not been so happy for me.

AND THEY RUINED IT. THEY FUCKING RUINED IT. THEY RUINED IT FOR ME SO BADLY I CAN’T GO BACK FOR AT LEAST A YEAR, SO I CAN GET OVER HOW THEY FUCKING RUINED IT.

First, my grandmother went around the gardens complaining how the price of entrance and how it was a money trap. Which she emphasized when she saw the mini shrine statues where people were leaving change as offering for luck. When I tried to explain they are mimicking what is done in Shinto shrines SHE LAUGHED AT EVERYONE. I may make fun of a lot of people, but even I try to respect spirituality… It got even worse when she kept taking water from various water stations in the park only to constantly spit it out and insult it… THEN END THE TOUR BY SAYING LOCAL PARKS ARE FREE AND PRETTIER….

My Aunt decided to remark in her loud New York voice and persona at every single person who passed us and politely asked us to lower our voices. It is a majority silent garden where people come for peace. THERE WAS NOTHING RUDE OR OFFENSIVE FOR WHAT THEY WERE ASKING. I mean everyone in our family was quickly walking through the gardens anyways without looking. What was there for you to stop and talk about.

And there is my mom. My lovely, sweet All-American, blonde cherub of a mother. I WILL NEVER ALLOW YOU IN A PLACE THAT IS IMPORTANT TO ME AGAIN. Forget trying to share common interests, forget having a simple basic conversation with your daughter. Forget all of that! No matter how much you are frustrated with me, UNJUSTLY FOR A WEEK STRAIGHT OF TORMENT I MIGHT ADD, you don’t say stupid fucking cunty shit.

First, you call me dirty, disgusting and belonging in the woods in the morning, because I changed from washing my hair from everyday to every other day or every two days. A thing that I was doing, because I NEED TO FREAKING HEAL MY HAIR THAT IS DAMAGED. Oh no, you don’t stop the day there. You enter my peaceful refuge and in the middle of a crowd of plant appreciating people yell that I am fat. That my trainer, who by the way if you listened your daughter at all in any conversation is there for helping me regain atrophied muscle and mobility, is failing because I look like shit. OH AND LET US REMIND OURSELVES HOW I AM A BITCH, UNWORTHY, MONSTER, COLD, LAZY, STUPID, ETC…. person in front of this now gawking crowd of people. Then follow me off into a side path to scream at me for not meeting your ideals as the perfect fucking daughter.

And even after all of this. I still feel like crap, because you know what. I entered a state I haven’t been in years! I blacked out for a moment. I didn’t see anything or know what I did. I only know that I felt myself falter and try to regain my balance. But I could tell what I did, I gave you a light kick to the back of the leg to shut you up.

Something I can’t even take satisfaction in because, (1) it is wrong to lift your hand to anyone in that manner, (2) it occurred in a state I was not in control of and (3) YOU DIDN’T EVEN FUCKING SHUT UP. No, the only thing that happened is me self reflecting in the car ride home. Remembering the one and only ever time before this something like this has happened…

I was around thirteen. Our problems had been escalating the last year or two with your insanity getting worse and my general emergence into puberty… Bullying in school was getting worse and I myself was sinking deep into something I wouldn’t yet have a name for. I was in the kitchen making breakfast as I did every day for you, even if I knew you were going to not eat it and throw it out anyways. What the fight about I can’t remember. But I will always remember that feeling of blacking out and coming back into yourself only to see a surprising a result. A result that you instantly wish was satisfying, but has the complete opposite effect. At the park, it was kicking you. Back then, it was the sight of egg dripping down your face. I had cracked them on your head… A surprisingly creative thing though.

My favorite place was ruined for me though the moment I made that connection. It would be a place where I was brought back too one of my worst memories. A time when I was so out of control, because of my feelings, I literal lost myself. It made me realize it’s not just pain, hurt, guilt, sadness I have for my family. There is a large boiling cauldron of resentment that doesn’t want to just stay in the pot anymore.

I kind of wonder now… with another place leaving my list of safety zones where I can go to escape everything. Where can I go to calm my mind or get rid of a migraine…

I sort of wish Ukiyo was as true as the stories. I could bend down right by the edge of a pool of water and reach out towards a reflection…Where I went or what the place was didn’t really matter. It was just disconnected, separate, more realistic than a fantasy, but still yet a fantasy.

It would be a completely different world… wouldn’t it?

I.L. Knight

 

 

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Japanese Instrumental

 

 

*The picture has a cat in it o(≧∇≦o). This almost a perfect recreation of what I wish for my retirement.*

A Topsy Turvy Day :

Here’s the thing:

 

I can’t help, but write about my health. It’s one of those things that becomes an all consuming void…pride? Relationship in your life? Still, after 2 years I somehow have not managed to accurately explain it to anyone. The frustration of it all. It’s invisible, you know! You are a child about it, you know. You look fine. You must have anxiety? Must not be able to handle the stress in becoming an adult in a modern world? You’ve adapted your mother’s issues. Damn it all, man. Damn it all. How do you explain something that no one will ever be able to see. Except, when you have black circles under your eyes from extreme lack of sleep during a flare, or a rash from your skin deciding it likes to have temper tantrums. Even then. It’s all fixable with some magic cream prescribed by a doctor. The wondrous marvels of modern medicine.

Anyways, I’m not here today, not present in some form of anchoring, to rant about the invisible pain in my life. Well, not that specific pain or any pain to be exact. I’m strangely here to talk about something good. Shocking, I know.

Tuesday, I faced a massive amount of apprehension about walking back into a school environment with an unsupportive Uni and professors who seemed to hate me for taking a medical leave due to becoming unable to walk properly. Hence, the equally invisible frustrations. Anyways, back to the point. I somehow did it. I survived the anxiety, left an hour early to walk up a giant hill at eight in the morning all without having time to do my morning stretches. I was a fat robot who struggled for an hour to get to a class I didn’t even know I could do. I mean, I was totally out of it. I had stayed up till 4 am the night before to do the readings I was supposed to do for the first day of class. It was a riveting set of film theory on studio films and how it applies to the development of cinema in China. News flash, it was another sense of fetishing the ‘Oriental’ as somehow being a child like country that white people loved to look at as enticing. A conspiracy of a Lolita reenactment going on as some sort of expected lens. Feh. White people. Although, it isn’t really fair of me to say that…considering even my insistence on a Jewish ethnicity can’t cover up the fact my bastard of a father I’ve never met before is as white as you can be. A good old U.K./French mix that made its way to Canada to only end up as a wannabe redneck in South Carolina. Apparently, a yellow pick up truck and a lucrative business in drugs was quite the enticing offer back in the 90’s.

Man, I’m really rambling on about all of this. I don’t know its like something is stuck in my head. Tuesday, was good though. I knew the professor very well. Three classes checked off on the list and it wasn’t hard to guess what his rambling was leading too. I had already learned he loves analytical metaphors, over zealous vocabulary and a hint of alliterations. Not that it is necessarily a bad thing if you have a writing style like mine: unorganized, spastic and completely dependent on the poetics of another fucking person. He’s a pretty great professor. Maybe that’s why the success in the class could only make me feel good. Not special. Not self assured. Not anything other than good. I had simply taken a step back into the stress pot of education at a pretentious Uni I hadn’t completely faltered on my first day. Yep, this invisible suffering outwardly bitchy female was doing good.

But Wednesday man, this day has been more than good. I fucking got away with only doing half the readings, falling asleep during the film screening and being completely silent during the actual lecture. I even saved enough coffee in my cup after 4 hours to be able to walk home. Ah, I hadn’t mentioned yet. I went to bed at 4 am on Tuesday. A friend I really need to keep at a distance due to her all consuming ability to extend everything to be about her self and her timeline made sleep impossible that night… I’m sure you are wondering, if you actually take time out of your day to stop by to this blog, how then did I seemingly do more than good? Well, not only did I never have this professor and she most likely heard terrible things with my somewhat destroyed reputation within my department, we managed to have a delightful conversation after class.

Part One a refreshing acceptance of the fact students can have disabilities or problems that you can’t necessarily see on their fucking face all the time. Even managing to ask what I might need during the year to make class actually be put on the same level as everyone else for me. Riveting, I tell you. Absolutely a fresh experience. Well known Unis’ often suck monkey dick.

Part 2 though is where I somehow managed to hit the nail on the head. I asked her about a simple sub point of a debate I had once back with the Professor from Tuesday about the difference between Modernism and Modernity. I told you over zealous and pretentious vocabulary works every time. Although, I happened to not agree with the insistent pop up of the word modernity everywhere. In case you don’t know the difference let me explain. Modernity is like a transitional movement where a culture or location goes from sort of point A to a point B. The transitional frame is colored in the ideals of Western industrialization and Western dipshitting around the East. Got to make people wear suits to reflect that they have officially entered into a ‘modern’ society. Modernism is not that. It is like the distinct choices one makes most likely within modernity to reach this point of ‘Modern’. An example would be the person moving from traditional work attire to a suit in order to display the new status of the individual within the society. Wow, even I think I sound smart reading this back… Too bad I’m not.

It was a total rip off, in a sense, of the fact Tuesday’s professor is crazy about the ideal and on Tuesday I watched the film Shadow Magic which is about the emergence of film in China. Told through fictional lens of course. Naturally, then I could pull out some off the cuff analytical bull crap about the locomotive movement of the story displaying an upward movement within society was actually a display of modernism and not modernity. The guy was going from the country side to an upcoming area of Tokyo. Now wore a suit to work and over the film was shown with foreign goods increasing around him as the plot went on. Modernism. The decisions made by a character within a transitional point of a narrative style of film.

I mean, the side readings were also annoying as hell. Western critics and their fetishing of the ‘Orient’ literally looks as the introduction of early film in Japan as some unique cultural experience. It’s really not that unique. Not for the people there. Think about it. Traditional forms of entertainment started as some form of silent moving spectacle that was than enhanced by a spectacle of music and a narrator to draw attention back to the silent spectacle in the background. So now the ‘silence’ was coming from tiny squares. No need to cause some pure film debates within society over it. Media changed not your cultural standards. And saying it was being used to police the environment? Please, whether it is the modern NHK or back in the age of Imperialism, Japanese authority has always used popular media to persist structured ideals within the common populace. It’s not even a unique Japanese method. Most states do it. Making an emphasis on how controlling it is, because now the films had more directly stated organized structure of social mannerisms versus cultural ideals isn’t a great argument. It’s annoying. It’s being over analytical to the point reaches several moments where people need to shout at you to just stop. An apple can be an apple. It doesn’t need to be a solid Cider or a solid juice…. My analogy sucks. Never mind.

Damn. I really did leave that class on cloud nine though. It was like someone handed me direct proof that I can actually do this. That brain fogs and a struggle to be the student you used to be was not an inhibition. Oh no. I was right to take this challenge upon myself. I was a fighter destined to grow beyond my family and past life experiences. Even if I couldn’t remember when the dynasties were or the names of the movies I’ve seen I could still recall the beating heart that made me fall in love with the Asian continent. A lack of words to portray it or not. My ties to the continent were a life link in the blood and in the marrow. I couldn’t help, but smile on my way home. Try to call every single one of my relatives and tell them I got this, while I felt the light breeze of an enjoyable cool Montreal winter day. The world was alive and full of colors and I had hope to be apart of it all. To not just exist anymore, but to find a way to live. I know it was awkwardly optimistic of me. I didn’t even mind that much that the same friend showed up twenty minutes late to our appointment at the office of student disabilities and then made us go to her coffee shop and suddenly tell me at mine that she didn’t have time, because she actually had a class. Strangely optimistic. I normally don’t get over things in the way of my morning coffee.

Here I am. In bed. Still, slightly feeling the remnants of this wonderful Wednesday and of the new Boruto episode this week. Still, a part of me knows that my struggles have just begun. That a large part of me will remain invisible and un-understandable. That I have a higher statistical chance of not meeting this challenge and finding acceptance of myself than actually succeeding. I most likely won’t get the summer internships I need, because of my Uni being a dick and money makes the world go around. Study Away? FEH. Who will get approved for that. And god forbid if I try to lose the weight from NOT BEING ABLE OT MOVE FOR LIKE 4 MONTHS.

Fun fact. Did you know there is like no fat people in Montreal. Not even among the foreign students? Yet, here I am getting looked at because I am now one size away from having to shop at obese stores and all you can look at me is like I AM FUCKED UP AND EAT TOO MUCH. News flash. I gained my weight from a dead metabolism. I actually don’t eat that much and struggle to move. Yet, I can’t scream it at the top of my lungs. I’d sound insane. And in public. I am a good southern girl. I smile as best I can and not be caught with the matches. However, do trust that I definitely have those matches. As the same friend mentioned through out this point does lovingly refer to me as being a bitchy cunt who is a horrible human being. Well, it was my joke in the first place. Can’t necessarily blame her for that.

Here’s the take away of all of this:

  1. I am still strangely optimistic; although, it has returned to be mixed with extreme apprehension.
  2. I forgot I have no classes on Thursday, so maybe I can catch up on sleep and go the gym. *snicker*
  3. I still desire a semicolon tattoo on the side of my wrist, because I am fucking idiot about trends when it comes to messages. Especially when they are ‘poetic’.
  4. Intj are actually the coldest people in the world and Intp are the warmest robots…. I am Intp.
  5. All hail Slytherin and HP rps.
  6. I have legitimately no real friends in Montreal and should probable commit on improving myself for once.
  7. Can you fail a paid community French class?
  8. If I get to Asia I will definitely feel worse about being fat. Partly because I’m American and that can be an annoying stereotype to be labeled with. I already have to fight hipster and weeboo, because of dumb people.
  9. I don’t know anything in life. Not really.

So, before I go to sleep I need to watch the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Because some article informed me Jewish women were wonderful representatives on female representation and anti-discrimination within Hollywood at the Golden Globes. I didn’t even see the award show. Although, I saw Natalie Portman’s quip. Fuck yea. Ani ohev et Israel. You kind of cause a lot of problems, but you gave the Jewish community Natalie Portman. By the way did you know the Jewish comedy lead actress isn’t Jewish? I mean, she sort of looks more Jewish than the Jewish actresses that get cast more often than stereotypical Jewish images, so I get it. You can be a MOT that brings the hammer at the Golden Globes.

I fucking love crude comedy,

I.L. Knight

P.s. I have listened to Joseph King of Dreams and The Prince of Egypt way too much today. I might have to re-compartmentalize my internal angst.

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Demons – Imagine Dragons

 

** The singer is my brother in Chronic Illness warrior training. Respect.**

On My Way Back :

So here I sit at the airport. Three hours early, just so I can avoid the potential issues of airport hell. Tiredly living in my beanie and over sized sweater. Glad I put on a face mask this morning, so at least my skin feels fresh and awake. And most of all feeling like some tired stereotype. I mean I am sitting at the one terminal cafe with a Snapple AND a hot tea. All while I blog about being at the airport. Come on. What am I even doing with my life?

Clearly, I have been checked out from everything the last few days from nerves. And today, I am just…. I don’t know? Numb and perpetuating the image of our generation everyone hates? Fuuuuuck.

I’m scared to be back in Canada. I’m unable to live in Florida. All my aspirations are painful. My actually life is painful. Fuuuuuck.

I don’t know what I am doing with my life.

Just waiting for the next step/milestone here,

I.L. Knight

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The Fear – Lily Allen

Soap

It’s funny. Here I am trotting along on my path to my own start up and a neighbor of mine turns out to be much later in the steps of his own. It’s quite the coinkydink if you ask me. Sure enough, I hadn’t realized I actually use his product. My mom was bringing it home to us every week. He makes soap. Now, now don’t laugh. If this was way back in the day he would be revered as a god of hygiene.

I will give him this though. It is special soap. Great soap. It’s called The CBD Skincare Co and they focus on soap that is actually good for people that have skin conditions. The owners have had issues with soap due to bad eczema and burned skin. When their daughter was going through a bad case of eczema they decided to try and make some soap that would help her. And they apparently did.

My mom switched my soap about 3 months ago and since then my skin has been pretty great. I do use a charcoal bar before I wash with it, because I am a clean freak. However, after the charcoal bar I wash down/scrub my body with their soap. It’s great that it doesn’t irritate my skin or cause any blotchy redness.

They asked me to comment on its effectiveness so they could see if it works for other skin conditions and how it would react to the CBD oil. For those of you who don’t know what that is it is an oil from hemp. Basically the part of a hemp plant that isn’t used for smoking. Which means you don’t need a medical marijuana card to use this soap. So far all you need is to want to take care of your skin.

That being said. If you are interested in trying a new soap that has been helpful for me, I suggest trying theirs. My whole family use it and we have a variety of skin issues. If you do try it hit me up on twitter or find another way to let me know. I want to make sure I tell them the truth about the product. Since it is made for those with skin problems before anything else. I can also help y’all possibly get a discount. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

Please try it and let me know!

I.L. Knight

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Soap – Melanie Martinez

Opportunities Are Knocking On My Door –

In the book D’aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths, and some exaggerated lip postcard, the idea of opportunity being all around you is a prominent theme. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS LOOK. hahahaha is it? Is it worth the struggles to help my friend in a business we both only know a little about? I tend to think so. It feels like a step of freedom. Of that whole animal totem of needing to step forward, be unchained and forge your own path. Maybe try to be a leader for once? opportunity seems to be knocking, and I think it is to remind me not only what my passions are, but that I’ve always enjoyed being there for others. It isn’t about how cynical and jaded I am. It’s just about being present in the world around me. Struggles, or not. I just need to be here in this moment and time. Trying. Thinking about the climb and nothing else… I guess? Maybe this is the central conflict. Can I reconcile my ambitions, with my desire to be there as a teacher for those around, and my ever present issue of separating myself an extremely unhealthy family environment? Come on Stream of Consciousness provide me with an answer.

I think I get it universe. How to solve my falcon and wolf,

I.L. Knight

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Story Of My Life – One Direction

The Climb – Miley Cyrus

When You Lose An Absurd Amount of Motivation :

Man, it really sucks when you were riding on a high and then you feel a tremendous drop. It’s like I went sky diving with out the parachute and no one told me I didn’t have one.

I just feel so low lately. Maybe my grandpa’s dismissal of the steps I’ve made affected me more than I thought… I mean, I spent the longest time of my life trying to live up to his expectations. And it was true I prepared for the back lash when I started making my own decisions.

I accepted his throwing my savings in my face when I got a tattoo. I accepted the humiliating post on Facebook about me crossing the Rubicon. But still. Life is starting to feel like a bore. Release from it seems temporary.

I need to hurry up and move to Kyoto and start feeding my stray cats,

I.L. Knight

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Kinkakuji Kyoto

 

So Forget About Last Night :

Maybe yesterday didn’t hurt the most. Maybe this morning even didn’t. Maybe it’s just a dull constant that becomes more sharp in moments. I remember the resentment and hurt I harbor. In any case… this morning hurt.

I never wanted wanted to tell my grandparents – No. That’s a lie. A part of me always did, but was scared of the reaction. I never could handle failure very well. But more than that I can’t handle the reaction to it.

But I had to tell them, my grandparents, that I formed an L.L.C. this time. Because the address I used is their address. All the documents I need will be going to T-H-E-I-R house. And the reaction to it was to be expected – disinterest to questioning why I’d waste the money I had earned from working. And even if I could explain to them that they were over dropping me to work early so I could pick up more hours to fund what I love it wouldn’t matter to them. Because when you are smart the standard they have of what is actually an accomplishment changes.

Yet, still it stings. I never wanted their flattery or attention. I just wanted the understanding of people who raised me that when I dust myself off and try that’s not a failure. Life doesn’t go from bad to great and just stay there. It’s a process and a journey. And if they don’t want to be a guide then at least make me remember I can lead myself.

Trying. Picking yourself up slowly. It isn’t a failure Mamma & Dad. It’s not a waste of money.

I am serious about my own journey. I can make a life out of what I love. So this L.L.C. will fill me with pride. I need to believe in my own strength.

The pain you gave me will hurt enough for a lifetime, but not trying will hurt me even more,

I.L. Knight

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Down With Sickness – Disturbed

Because of You – Kelly Clarkson

Motivation & Updates :

I’m finding it so hard to stay motivated and do what I got to do to build myself up as a trying to be an adult person that makes what I love earn money lately. There’s just so much going on :

  1. Healthcare forms/drug aid forms for both US/Canada
  2. Business Licensing
  3. Moving
  4. Last Week of One Of My Day Jobs equaling picking up crazy hours of extra shifts
  5. The Holidays I’m missing and the frustration of my crazy family about it
  6. Sleep Problems
  7. Inability to still get all of heavily important medications
  8. The stress of returning to school with no close friends (the pains of adulthood) and a bunch of disappointed professors in me + OH YEAH MEMORY FOG ISSUES
  9. The exhaustion of Funcutional Training and the toll it has on my body
  10. The desire to find time to WRITE MY OWN SHIT
  11. The necessity to go last minute shopping for goods and clothes which I had hated even before I gained weight
  12. Still being in the very early stages of my recovery/adjustment of my auto-immune disease diagnosis
  13. Just generally being an awkward skeletal panda thingy mabob
  14. Balancing my Mental Health and my barely recognized depression and suicidal nature

I’m so tired y’all. I don’t even have the energy to pop on my new filter for my mic,

I.L Knight

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Sick and Tired – Anastacia