From The Bottom Of My Heart...

I received several comments yesterday from some amazing people especially my dear Laurie and Jenn (seriously, can you ladies be my new BFFs??). I tried to answer everyone in an email or on my blog. Thank you so much for the kind words and the encouragement. I'm still undecided on whether I want to walk the 5K or not, but I'm leaning towards following through on my committment to walk and raise awareness for Cystic Fibrosis.

I feel like I should elaborate on my home situation some...

I live at home with my parents, but not by choice. I lost my full time job in November of last year and really had no choice other than to move home. I had my own apartment and paid all my own bills. I lived on my own comfortably, but I was by no means rich. Sometimes things were tight if the electric bill was higher than normal, but otherwise I was ok. James moving in with me made things tighter, but I was still getting by. Looking back, it wasn't the best idea for him to move in with me.

I have mentioned before that my parents (dad especially) and I have a bit of a strained relationship. I don't want to throw words around, but I had it pretty rough growing up. Lots of verbal and emotional turmoil and physical threats. I don't want to post details on a public forum, but if you are curious I would be happy to chat with you over email or Facebook.

My dad has always been a controlling asshat. For those of you that know me (or those that are just meeting me), you know that I'm a strong willed, stubborn as hell, defiant person that HATES to be controlled by anyone or anything but her own free will. Tell me not to do something or that I can't do something? I will probably shoot you the finger and do it anyway, just to prove that I can. I have a bit of an issue with authority... Imagine...

There hasn't really been a time in recent memory that my dad and I have gotten along really well. He controls, I roll my eyes and comply, all while talking smack from the other room. I like having my own space and time to do my own things. Even if doing my own thing entails laying on my bed and reading a book. I need my decompression time. I think this is why running/walking/jogging has been so good for me. I'm out of the house, on my own terms, decompressing from the day at hand. By the time I come back in, everyone is usually in bed or asleep. Then I can shower and relax on my own terms.

It's not that I don't appreciate my parents taking me back in... I do... Every day I thank God that they were willing to give me my bedroom back and completely rearrange their lives for me. I know they have made sacrifices for me. I'm so greatful to have them, but there comes a time when I need to be myself. I need to be Sammie... Not M&J's daughter... Not C's big sister... I need to be Sammie.

Also, to comment on falling too hard and too fast... I'm referring to Carlos... I willingly admit that I am completely crazy about him. (For the curious, he and I have known each other for about 2 years.. We met before James and I started talking). My feelings for him grow with every phone call. Things were a little shaky this weekend, simply because he had to work crap hours and I was off my meds. I took him not talking to me as a way of saying that he wasn't interested anymore, when in reality, he was just busy and exhausted (the joys of retail, eh?). He's making an effort to fix things/communicate more and I'm ok with that. I'm really trying to take things slow with him. I don't want to dive in, head first and wind up getting hurt or hurting him. I know he adores me... And to be quite honest, I adore him too.. I haven't felt this way about anyone in so long. It's new, it's exciting, but I really want it to last...