- I’ve played the piano since I was five years old.
- I’m terrified of spiders, bees, and octopuses.
- I was once grounded from reading because I was caught reading books at 2 in the morning on a school night. Just couldn’t wait for the ending!
- I don’t have any tattoos and I don’t plan on getting any.
- I hate sauce. Tomato sauce, alfredo sauce, apple sauce, gross! I order my pizzas without sauce.
- A poem I wrote in the third grade was published in a book.
- My favorite ice cream is chocolate chip cookie dough.
- I’m the oldest of five. I have three brothers and a sister. They are my entire world.
- My party trick? I can wiggle my ears.
- I love taking pictures of the sunset.
- My first job was at Starbucks. Ironic part is that I don’t drink coffee.
- I am very proud to say that my phone has never died. I always have a charger or a portable battery with me.
- I can’t sleep without my pillow that I’ve had since I was a baby. If my house was a fire and I could only grab two things- one would be my pillow.
- I’ve watched every episode of Grey’s Anatomy, I’m obsessed!
- I love baking! Cookies, cupcakes, brownies, fudge, you name it!
- I’m terrible when it comes to art. I can’t even draw stick figures.
- Tulips are my favorite flowers.
- I can cry at just about anything. Happy ending in a movie, sad commercial, birthday cards, cute videos on Facebook, even books.
- I’m the girliest girl in the world, but I love football. Always have, always will.
- I’m always cold. I sleep with four blankets and a space heater.
So, August 1st was my birthday. I’ve always wanted to celebrate my birthday. I’ve always been so big on celebrating birthdays, and I’ve always hoped those around me would be just as thrilled to celebrate mine. I did not celebrate my birthday. Why do you ask? Well, it’s quite a long story, and I’ve finally decided to share it.
When I was a kid, I would always stress out about my birthday. It meant I had to be with one parent, and celebrate later with another. I always felt so bad missing out on seeing my mom or my dad on my big day. And when my siblings were born, it meant missing out on celebrating with them. But there was always the upside. I got to have two birthday cakes, two birthday parties, and twice as many presents! (Oh how simple it is to make a kid happy!)
But as I started getting older, I started to dislike my birthday. I was always disappointed. Either I didn’t get to have a birthday party, or my friends couldn’t make it for my party (the struggles of have a summer birthday), my crush at the time didn’t call to wish me a happy birthday. Something totally random that I had hoped would happen, never happened. And it destroyed me every time. Why didn’t I stop expecting things?! Why didn’t I just move forward and not be so focused on getting everything I wanted?!
So what made me just completely give up on my birthday? Well, my 17th ended all hopes and dreams of having a great day. After yet another physical debacle with my step father about my homosexuality, my mother kicked me out of the house. On my 17th birthday. My stepfather gave my mother the ultimatum of choosing between him or me. And she chose him. Days before I started my senior year of high school. As a member of student council, future track team captain, nominated homecoming princess, I had to give up my high school. I moved two hours away, with nothing but my car and my dirty laundry, to my dad’s house. To my dad that I hadn’t seen in a year and a half because the court had deemed him “unfit”. Because my mom wouldn’t let him just come to a track meet of mine without threatening to call the police. On my 17th birthday, my own mother chose her husband over her daughter. I had never thought of myself as an option, until that very moment. When your own mother chooses someone else over you, you start to have serious identity issues.
I tried my best to move past that. Our relationship was strained for quite some time, the only time I would speak to her was when I wanted to see my siblings. She thinks our relationship is better than ever, but to be completely honest, I will never be able to forgive her.
Ever since then, I’ve tried to ignore my upcoming birthday. But by my 18th birthday, my best friend (and girlfriend) had broken up with me, and I was convinced that if she still cared she would try to make my birthday special. She didn’t even text me a “happy birthday”. I was destroyed once again. There I was, thinking that someone that had been my best friend for 10 years didn’t even want to wish me a happy birthday.
19th birthday passed, nothing to remember. I honestly couldn’t even tell you where I was. 20th birthday- my dad took me to Hawaii. I can officially say it was my best birthday I’ve ever had. The only person I saw that day was the only person who had never turned his back on me. I only got a couple text messages from friends wishing me a happy birthday, and that was okay. It was a little sad, but I just tried to remember how lucky I was to be in such a beautiful place for my birthday. 21st birthday- I was dating someone new, and she went above and beyond! A limo picked me up, took me to In N Out, and we ended up at a club for the night. That entire weekend was amazing. Friends took me out, had BBQs by the pool, danced all night, and passed out at 3am. The first time I celebrated my birthday the EXACT way I wanted to. My mom even took me out for dinner that night. Quickly after my birthday, the person I was dating dumped me. And I just wanted to completely forget all the birthday memories I made.
My 22nd birthday, I donated blood. I thought, if God has allowed me to stay on this earth for another year, I was going to make sure three other people would too. (If you’ve ever considered donating, I HIGHLY recommend it. Visit americanredcross.org to find out if you qualify to donate and save three lives.) I did not want to go out, I did not want to see the Facebook posts, I did not want any presents, and I definitely did not want to be sung to. And I got exactly what I wanted. Did it suck? Yeah, it did. But I rather demand nothing than hope for something and get nothing.
So here comes my 23rd. And what happened this year? Let me give you some background info. Well my girlfriend, she just broke up with me. I can’t even begin to explain the pain I feel from it all, because I honestly believe she is the person I’m supposed to be with. I have a couple good friends in my life, I just finished celebrating their birthdays and now it was finally my turn. Unfortunately, my work schedule didn’t work out with my birthday this year. I had to be on-call, which means I sat on my couch in full hair and makeup all day. ALL DAY. Once again, I asked for nothing. And nothing I got. Only two family members called to wish me a happy birthday. Only one friend called to wish me a happy birthday. (Mind you, I just finished celebrating TWO of my friends birthdays.) A friend that I’ve flown half way across the country to visit for their birthday, didn’t even call me on mine. A friend that I’ve known for three years sent me a text message asking, “Is it your birthday today??”. And my (ex) girlfriend? Just a phone call saying happy birthday. In all honesty, I thought she had forgotten. To be even more honest, I still think she forgot and someone reminded her.
How much of a loser must I be to have people that I truly love and care for, not give a shit about my birthday? Seriously? I’m not asking for sympathy, or for anyone to try to act now as a belated birthday. I’m just addressing the thoughts that I’ve had for years. What do I have to do to get people to want to care for me? To want to make my birthday special, to try to wipe away all of the terrible birthdays that I’ve had. What have I done wrong to have people in my life that don’t care enough to celebrate the day I was born?
I’m done. August 1st will never be an important day in my life, ever again. Ever. I’m so done with it. I’m done with my birthday.
That’s why I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore.
And to those that feel I may have called them out, or admitted to private situations, I’m not holding my tongue anymore. I’m sharing exactly how I feel and what I’ve gone through.
Sometimes I have a dark day.
A day where I do nothing more than try to sleep as long as possible, stay in bed in the dark as long as possible, and then sit in front of the TV until it’s time to go to bed again. Sometimes when the thoughts are too loud in my head, I do anything to distract myself from the noise. But whenever I have a dark day, I also stay away from people. All people. The people that can read me and know when I am having a bad day even if I pretend I’m okay, and the people who don’t know me at all. It’s scary when I have a dark day- to know that I don’t have energy to live life, to lie and pretend I’m okay. So I just sit there and try to distract myself. I can’t play Solitaire or a game on my phone- my mind tends to wander. I can’t watch anything with a hint of romance or friendship or anything that I feel I’m missing out on. (FYI- good shows to watch: Grey’s Anatomy, 2 Broke Girls, Shark Tank, and Jeopardy).
Sometimes I’ll have the days where even though I know I need to, I can’t convince myself to get up and take a shower. The days where I force myself to take a sleeping pill so I won’t wake up each hour from a nightmare and then spend several hours staring at the ceiling wondering how my life got to be the way it is. The dark day where all I do is cry over the simplest things- an old lady on TV, my favorite pillow fell off the bed and I don’t have the energy to get it. I’ll cry if I have a missed call from my mom, I snapped at someone who was just concerned if I was okay, a commercial about the armed forces.
Those are the days where I am at my worst. The days where I can’t even depend on myself to pick myself up. The days I can’t even fathom living in society. So I hide. I hide and try to do anything to distract myself until it’s nighttime again. I pray that tomorrow will be a better day. That when the sun rises, I’ll wake up and want to try to be happy. I’ll wake up and shower, do my hair and make up, even put on a nice outfit. Maybe I don’t go out that day, but at least I’ve pulled it together a little bit. Or maybe tomorrow will be just as dark as the day before. Or darker even- when I do nothing but sleep or cry.
All I know is that each day is a surprise. I’m lucky to wake up and be breathing. If it’s a good day, I can go about my day and accomplish a thing or two. I can participate in society, I can have conversations, and my loved ones won’t worry. If it’s a dark day, I know how to hide myself away and fight through the darkness to just make it to tomorrow. But I KNOW that I can make it to tomorrow. It won’t be easy, my heart will hurt, but I CAN make it to a better day.
I’m learning that it is OKAY to have a dark day, that it is OKAY to have a good day, that it is OKAY to have a great day. Understand when it’s a dark day, feel blessed to have a good day, and change the world on a great day.
So much has gone on in the past couple months of my life and instead of writing post after post, I am going to try to catch you up now.
I went through five weeks of the most INTENSE training to become a flight attendant for a major airline here in the United States and was originally based in Los Angeles. After spending my first month flying all over the US and spending the nights in LA either in my car or a hotel room with a close friend, I finally decided to transfer back home to San Francisco. Here I am, month three and thankfully living back at home with my dad. The job has been so incredibly fun and incredibly frustrating all at the same time. I’m sure more posts will be about my job and I’ll make sure to have a dedicated post for the torture of training I went through.
The other new thing in my life this year is a new relationship. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been in a relationship, and I can truly say I have never been with someone as breathtaking as she is. She is the most amazing, kind, hilarious woman I have ever met. We have so much in common and yet are complete polar opposites. More details to come about her. I’m not quite comfortable releasing her name (or the names of my family members) but I’ll call her GQ for now. She is so supportive with everything I do and understands that my past has molded me to be who I am today. Even though times can be tough and I know I’m extremely flawed, she cares for me as if I’m flawless. I couldn’t possible ask for anything more. All I can say is she makes me so incredibly happy.
I’ve decided to cut out some negativity in my life. Or at least put it up on a very very high shelf that I only have to pull down a couple times a year. I’m trying to be as positive as I can. It might not always work, and I know I will still have bad and dark days, but I know that I am doing better right now.
Crisis Call Center: (800) 273-8255 or text ANSWER to 839863. http://www.crisiscallcenter.org. Available 24/7.
National Suicide Hotline: (800) SUICIDE or (800) 784- 2433. (800) 442-HOPE or (800) 442-4673. http://www.hopeline.com . Available 24/7.
PLEASE do not hesitate to text, call, or email if you are ever feeling overwhelmed, depressed, hurt, or having scary thoughts. You can change your life, there are people that love you, and everything will be okay one day. Take one step at a time. Make that call.
So how did I come up with the name Stuck on The Kitchen Floor? Simply put, one night about a year ago I had a complete breakdown that left me crying on the kitchen floor of my very first apartment and I couldn’t get up to grab my glass of wine I had just poured myself. (By no means do I approve drinking alcohol or taking any kinds of drugs when you are in a negative space- I rarely do drink, and I ended up not even having the wine.) It had been such a horrible day, I needed to just cry it out and move forward. There I was- on the floor, crying and thinking about what life meant, why I felt so lonely, not knowing what I was going to do with my life, etc. Little did I know, this breakdown is completely NORMAL for a twenty one year old who is out on her own for the first time.
After a little while, I wiped away my tears and just started thinking about what I could do to change my life. My moment of clarity- a blog! As a joke, I thought of calling it Stuck On The Kitchen Floor since I had been down there for about an hour. I couldn’t possibly be the only person in the world who feels this way, maybe I could write about it and others could give their advice, opinions, their own stories, anything they want to contribute. Maybe I could even reach out and help someone else off the kitchen floor one day.
Just to be clear, if ANYONE ever has a breakdown- please please PLEASE reach out to someone. A friend, a coworker, family. You can even send a message to me or one of the many many hotlines available 24/7. (I have added two hotlines on my page under the category Hotlines.) It’s never okay to be stuck on the kitchen floor, and if you need help, there are so many people that are willing to help you.
I’ve been through so much the past four years and I’ve been meaning to do this for so long, I just haven’t ever forced myself to do it. So here it goes.
Here’s a little background information.
My name is Victoria and I am twenty two years old. Raised in Northern California, oldest of five children, and just stuck trying to figure out who the hell I am, what I want to be, and what kind of impression I want to leave on the world. My parents were never together, my mom married when I was young and had four children (WARNING: they’re the loves of my lives- you’ll hear about them probably every post so if you don’t like funny kid stories, sorry not sorry), and I’m the only child with my dad. I’ve moved all over the Bay Area, but never left home except for three semesters of college in the state of Washington. I didn’t finish school, part of me wants to go back, the other part just worries I won’t be able to finish. (More details to come, every part of my life has some crazy story.) I’m athletic in the I-can-talk-about-sports-go-to-games-wear-the-jerseys kind of way. I used to run track in high school (400m if anyone is that curious). Pretty much the basics about me for now, trust me you’ll learn every little bit of me when I’m finished with this blog.
My goals for this blog is to just express myself and my everyday struggles. You’ll see that I like to call my life joke (phrase stolen from the amazing and beautiful college roommate Sammy), every day is a joke when you think something so simple would be easy. My life has proven that nothing is easy, and I’m finally starting to figure that out. I do believe I have depression, but I rather not see a doctor or go to a therapist. I want to overcome depression my own way, through writing this blog and hopefully helping someone in any way I can. I’ve always been the kind of person to have an epiphany as I’m writing, hopefully this will be my own form of therapy. Maybe life is not about where you go, but the journey it took for you to get there. So if you’re still reading this, be patient with me. Some days may be good, some may be bad, and some days may just be funny. Who knows. But I hope you enjoy the ride!