Going through one of those “growing older and wiser” things

To You,

Sitting here on my weekly one day Wednesday off from work, I’ve been perplexed with fluctuating thoughts bumping around in the good ol’ cranium regarding my discontentment with certain aspects of my life. I’m one of those people who over-analyzes everything, has trouble forgetting anything that ever happened, and who tends to believe in the benefit of the doubt in human beings time and time again, which in the end results in time well wasted being invested in certain pursuits and relationships.

I think my twenties were filled with my ups and downs with people, trying to hold onto people who had let me down on more than one (or several) occasions. I am what my husband-face calls truly sentimental, one of the most sentimental he’s ever met. And this is true when it comes to things and relationships. However, I’m wondering if as I step through the finality of my twenties and push onwards through my thirties if I’m not losing my sentiment towards things and people but more so adding value to the sentiment of which I associate with these sorts of things.

Amongst an endless array of things, my relationship history with my husband has made me understand where one should put their time versus where one’s time is wasted. Our relationship has been an investment from day 1, knowing we would become one of those idiot couples attempting long-distance in the coming months after our first few dates – we knew that whatever level of trust we were about to reveal and demand to/from each other was going to determine the investment we were about to involve ourselves in. And each day since then we have had to invest a huge amount of our time into each other, our histories, our lives, and our future. And like any investment it has fluctuated in the market, but it’s one based off of a life-long plan and in order for it to succeed and flourish in its duration, it’s one that requires mutual trust, respect, and time inputted. So why should I involve my time in any other investment if it won’t stand by these same notions; if there isn’t sufficient mutual respect, trust, and time inputted, why should I invest myself into it any further?

Right now I am going through a strange emotional roller coaster – no, no, not a roller coaster, but maybe more like one of those experiences where you get in a bus in a small mountain village which rides along the routes that border the cliff of a death fall without guardrails, but with many bumps and turns.. yeah, it’s one of those ride-alongs. People don’t quite understand what it is we’re going through right now or what we have gone through up until now. Three years apart. And no, we don’t have a lot of money between us which would finance frequent visits throughout the months. And no, we don’t have any updates on our visa processing (which is the norm, expected, and all apart of the immigration process – but nonetheless annoying). We are in limbo, and my day-to-day life is fully invested in the repercussions of our situation – my logistics, my money, my time, my thoughts, my strength. And if people don’t understand the unbalanced motions of my life right now and if they are not invested in comprehending my frustrations as I do theirs, then why should I further invest in such relationships? I am in the first year of marriage, and in a normal situation this is a crucial time for any couple, but for us it only adds to our stress. It’s hard. It’s hard on us. And I miss him more than my sad-face emoticons could ever express.

The thing is, is I care. But I think at times I’ve invested my time and trust into others who have taken my ‘money’ and used it for their advantage alone and not mine when I’ve truly, truly needed it.

I think it’s an adult thing. Mixed with a life-lesson thing. It’s one of dem things.

Keep strong and carry on,

Love from, Vic Louise xoxoxo

Hello Face, Meet Mallet.

To You,

I haven’t been doing all so great these past few months. I’ve been rather down in the dumps miserable, and each and every day I try to find the gusto to pick myself up and forge onwards for the bigger and better, and then I get smacked in the face with a mallet. Since October I’ve become engaged, started the researching process into immigration, eloped, filed for immigration, felt like my life is being put on hold due to immigration and its unknown processing time span, had to search for a new apartment (again, a little stressful when I require a lease without a year-long contract), realized that a job I would love to pursue is only possible as a Canadian (a.k.a federal government work that I can’t do in the U.S since I won’t be pursuing citizenship)… I feel like a pawn on a multi-player chess board.

For the past few years, I have fought to reclaim independence. And since then, I’ve also felt like I’ve been compromising that fight for this life I’ve found myself within. The life of a long-distance relationship, immigration, and stress. You know, all of this right now is why I cannot recommend long-distance to anyone – it’s definitely a “pursue at your own risk” type deal, and although it can be wonderful it is not easy, at all.

Don’t get me wrong – I love my husband otherwise I wouldn’t have married him. But, I feel like I’ve been loving myself less. Due to long-distance and the overwhelming personal commitment that it requires to formulate a trusting long-distance relationship, I feel as though I haven’t been able to create a balanced life of my needs and wants versus our relationship’s needs. Lately, I’ve been more and more annoyed, irritable, and uninspired. And this is all based on me. I have put my life on hold for everyone else, and whether that has been a mistake or not, it’s been exhausting. I hate thinking about it. I am so uninspired with my life right now, not because I’m unappreciative of what I have but because it doesn’t feel like I’m me within it. I am not used to remaining stagnant for a relationship’s requirements (the expenses of immigration and the unknown limbo it’s put me in within its unpredictable time frame leaves me without much wiggle room for adventures). Nor am I used to putting my travels on hold to save up for immigration. Traveling is me, it is what my heart and my mind survive on. And in these past four or five years, I haven’t been me. And no matter the elements, when you don’t feel like yourself, and you’re exhausted from sustaining a lifestyle that doesn’t feel like it’s conducive to your inspiration and self-worth, it’s saddening. Maddening.

I don’t know who I am, nor what defines me. I feel as though people are focusing on me as a wife awaiting immigration, and nothing more. To be honest, it’s been hard for me to see more than this. The good person, the committed partner and step-parent, the intellect, the strong woman, the independent woman, the adult, the adventurer, the reader, the artist, the thinker, the risk-taker, the crazy-person, the wonderer – will I ever get her back, or is that not a part of the plan?

I am human and I’m having a hard time. It’s not a day-to-day type problem to deal with because tomorrow it will still be the same. I don’t feel appreciated as who I am – I’m appreciated as a wife and human being, but I don’t feel celebrated as me. When was the last time we raised our glasses to who we are, who our partners are, what we’ve been through – what we’re going through? When was the last time that we received gifts that were out of recognition of who we are – not getting a TV, or jewelry, or cell phones, but a book, an adventure, knowledge, a new experience?

Like I said, I’m rather unfulfilled and dumpy right now. Have been for a while, and I’m struggling on my own. Life is throwing me an adventure, that’s for sure, but it’s not mine. You know, I exist within all of this too- as me- and I feel like that’s been forgotten.

Keep calm (and pour me a drink).

Love from, Vic Louise xoxoxo

Feeling Rather Bluesy, Babes and Sadly Human


To You,

I’m having those few days where I feel like I’m being spread really thin – like scrappy buttered toast with a sad film of jelly on top. I can’t really put my finger on the word as to which best describes how I’m feeling right now, but in a sense it’s under-appreciated I suppose… like when you’re having a rough time, and you just can’t seem to find a space that feels welcoming to you. There’s a lot that I’m sitting on at the moment, and I’m trying to figure out how to lay everything out in a way that I can comprehend and sometimes in order for me to do this I need to talk it out – like any other human being, really. But each time I’ve tried, I feel as though I’m made to feel guilty into the time I’m taking up sometimes when I need to talk. You see, I suck at emotional talking, I’m truly not good at getting the words out to explain what I’m going through mainly because I’ve always been told how I “talk” wrong – I’m too slow, I’m too hesitant, I take too long, I’m confused. I’m just not good at it, and I’m reminded quite often in others’ frustration about me trying to convey my worries and it makes me feel… well, bluesy babes. I feel shrunken down. We all have insecurities and this is one of mine, and I’m feeling shut down.

I’m very blessed with many things in my life, but I’m fucking human! It feels weird when we have to remind ourselves of this fact, because apparently we’re supposed to be brilliant at everything all of the time. But yes, although I do my best to appreciate the delicate wonders in my life, lately I’ve been feeling small – mind you, all about the superficial realities in my life and not about anything significant (remember? human here? I have pointless worries too? Ok, glad we’re on the same page). Like the other day, I realized I own one pair of wearable pants/trousers, and yes, I wear them nearly everyday. I have a go-to top that I wear 2-4 times throughout the week, mainly because I don’t have more than 3 wearable tops.. sad fact, I spilled soup down this top, but because it’s a dark knit top, you can’t really see the spill, and so I wore it again the next day. I’ve actually convinced myself to hold onto a Christmas gift of which really isn’t my style because I’m short on tops. I ration my coffee gift cards found in my Christmas stocking, because I know once they’re empty I will no longer be able to budget coffee throughout my work day and my thermos only keeps my home-brewed coffee warm for about an hour. Whenever my hair sheds, I freak out that it’s from the same spot on my head each time and now I’m scared that I’m balding (Fact – hair is supposed to shed. Also fact – I tend to overreact). And for our work holiday formal, my individual name is the first on the attendees list written in slightly larger letters than all the coupled dates listed below me.

But who am I kidding- who wants to be the date of this food-drenched, single pants-owner, balding over-reactor?  Who also can’t talk properly, and therefore is a babbling incoherent who still has worries bubbling up inside of her? Psh, I’m a catch (say the sad voices weeping inside my head).

I’m feeling rather alone and rather pathetic. And my clothes smell like soup. :-/

Love from, Vic Louise xoxoxo

The Man with the Plan

To You,

Everyone has bad days. Everyone has worse than bad days. No matter the degree of detriment of which causes our bad days, we’ve all experienced moments that make us feel helpless, hopeless, and on the brink of giving up. Causes can range from the accumulation of the little shits throughout a relative timeline – you spilled your coffee on your only clean shirt, your car won’t start, someone lets the door slam behind them and in your face, and then a colleague interrupts you mid-discussion. These little things can add to the worst day, sobs, and a fit doomed to be thrown. And then there are life struggles – loss of job, financial woes, illness of a loved one, a lawsuit. It doesn’t matter the cause, but the approach to breathing in life again does matter.

In the past few months, I’ve had my bad days. My “step on my foot and I will punch you in the ribs” bad days. And they’ve all ranged from sleeping in and running late, to car maintenance, to car accidents, to job hunt woes, to bad hair days, to fat days, to illness, to misbehaving dogs… All have caused me anxiety and tears. And it’s not silly of me – I’m fucking human! I work hard, but I get tired. We all do, but sometimes you need to step back, and I mean take a big lunging step back and take a breath. Because sometimes things do suck, and things do seem hopeless, and things start to overwhelm you. I’ve been on both ends of this pain, overwhelming and the overwhelmed and it seems as though one can become the other rather quickly and without acknowledgement.

To those who know this feeling, and those who feel at their wits end, I offer you a cupcake. Some ice cream. A chocolate fudge sundae. A long sweaty jog. A hug. A bad joke. An afternoon watching Kazaam or listening to Shaq Fu: Da Return (No? Really? Well don’t say I didn’t offer..). I know I could use one of the above… or maybe a combo package, because let’s face it – I will eat that cupcake with the ice cream in addition to the sundae, and that will result in me needing the long sweaty jog. And who can say no to Kazaam?! Crazy people, that’s who. Any way about it, I offer my thoughts because I get it.

On that note, I leave you with this, because, come on – how can you not smile watching this?!!


Love from, Vic Louise xoxoxo