Caylin | 20 | Kansas | Weird | Idk

I have such awful anxiety.

People always make me so unbelievably nervous. People I don’t know, I just assume their intentions are negative. People I do know, I think they trust others too much, and I feel like it’s my responsibility to keep an open mind to the possibility of them getting hurt, not hearing what they want to hear, or things not turning out how they planned.

It’s so hard for me to maintain friendships because it bothers me when people repeatedly put themselves through awful scenarios, then shrug it off. I care an awful lot about the people close to me. I don’t like seeing my friends, significant other, or family getting thrown around.

I stay up late stressing out about past relationships with people; how I could have helped them, how I could have ended those relationships better, etc.

I am constantly worrying. I am constantly wanting to make others cautious of what’s around them, even when it’s not my responsibility.

I can sit here all day long and tell those around me that I don’t care, but I care way too much. When I try and tell those who are making bad decisions what they’re doing, and they do them anyways, I have a tendency to walk away, because I don’t want to be there when everything is falling apart. I cannot handle that much negativity when it could have been preventable. I wait until things calm down again.

This past year, I have went through a lot of self-change. I have learned to better deal with my anxiety, how to balance things better, and how to talk about what’s going on. I definitely hit rock bottom about this time last year, and since then, it has been trial and error to make me a better me.

Communication is so important. I have lost the most important people in my life because there wasn’t enough of it. When you have a tough time dealing with anxiety or depression, the best thing to do is talk about it.

Sorry this is so long and jumbled and personal.

To anyone who eats at a sit down restaurant

I get paid $2.13 an hour, whatever I decide to make after $2.13 is up to me. What? Up to the server? Oh fuck. I get to decide how much I make by the kind of service I give. So, please note, that when you come into a restaurant hitting on, flirting with, or harassing your server, you are leaving them feeling uncomfortable, degraded, and vulnerable; decreasing the kind of service you’re getting.

I make damn good money. I am good at what I do. I do not feel the need to be harassed by anyone for a three dollar tip, nor do I have a problem to refuse service to someone who is harassing me.

Don’t hit on your servers.

I used to prefer summer over everything, but now, I think my favorite season is the very end of fall. Where it’s not snowing yet, but raining. The leaves are mostly on the ground. The temperature is cold, but not cold enough to be completely bundled up.

The candles. The reds, oranges, browns, and purples that consume everyone’s wardrobe. The flannel and beanies. The hot chocolate. Watching my favorite movies. The long drives in the country. All of the baking.

Fall is perfect, and I’m ready for it to be here. I feel like I say that before every season change, though.

Pep talk 4 my sista

You know what’s really awesome? The fact that cheese-danish-moment, who is my sister, worked her ass off her senior year of high school, got herself into the school she was striving for, got herself a job up there, and is doing super well.

I know you’re overwhelmed now, Jay, but you’re doing alright. Stay focused on what you’re there for, and don’t let any obstacles, including money, keep you from doing what you want.

You come from a family that lives paycheck to paycheck, and can live a week off of Raman noodles and stale cereal. You know money stress; you’ve lived with it your whole life. So don’t let it scare you.

My sister’s phone isn’t working too well right now, so I’m writing my pep talk here.

I was walking into the movie theater today, some girl was sitting in her car with a friend/boyfriend/whoever screaming that he was touching her, to call the cops, and she was using a whistle. When I looked, they both were hunched down in the seats, and she was laughing.

So joking about sexual abuse isn’t funny, and I’m so pissed at myself because it wasn’t until later that I thought about walking over to her car, getting her tag number, and calling it in as sexual abuse to show her that it’s not a joke. I wish I had called the police. Ugh.

Guardians of the Galaxy was good, tho. So glad I finally saw it.

I listen to the same music that I did in middle school. You still find me constantly changing my hair, or piercing something. I have always said I was going to quit wearing my band t-shirts, skinny jeans, and quit layering my clothes, but I still wear all of it; even when the weather is warm. Just like I always have.

I wear a little more make up, I am a lot more laid back, and I’m constantly worrying about money. I quit caring about other’s opinions, and I started focusing more on myself. I’m a hell of a lot less negative than I’ve ever been, and I just try to focus on results.

I haven’t changed, I’ve grown up; but most importantly, I’m content with life and everything it throws at me.

I have no idea what in the world I am going to do about school next semester.

I might move in with my grandma in Colorado, downside: away from my family.

I could move to el dorado and go to butler, downside: no roommate.

I could stay at my brother’s and go to Butler in Andover, downside: living with my brother is too much for me.

I could just move back home and go to Cowley, downside: I’d be at home.

I’d like to go back to Butler, but I’d also prefer to move out to el dorado if I did that, and there is not one person, that I can think of, that’d be willing to move out there with me.


I know I’ll be fine once I adjust, but it’s the adjusting part that’s taking longer than what I’d like.

August 28, 2014

I think I’ve decided to follow through with moving out to El Dorado for this next semester. I started applying for jobs out there, and in Augusta today. So, as long as I can get a job that pays me more than what I make now, I think I’ll be able to finally be out on my own, and back in school. 

I am too excited for this.

August 10, 2014

It’s 3:45 am. I got off of work at three. every single bone in my body aches. Running around for ten hours on five hours of sleep was the last thing that my body wanted to do today. 

I’ve been really bummed out the last few days, and I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s just work. I have only had really long, and really late shifts lately. The money is good and all, but everyone is hanging out while I’m dealing with drunk people and getting hit on. My friend who just moved out of town was in town tonight, and I couldn’t see her. Since Rylee moved out of Wichita, we see quite a bit less of each other. Serving sometimes really sucks. Everyone hangs out on the weekends, you’re stuck in a restaurant.

I guess I could look for another that is consistent in hours, doesn’t kill my body, and gives me my weekends off, but I know that it’s going to be nearly impossible to find a job that pays as well as serving. 

I know I’m complaining. The lack of sleep and lack of social interaction with people that I care about is starting to get to me, I think.

Or maybe it’s because I’m hungry.

The answer is all of the above. 

August 7, 2014

I would kill to be sitting in my parent’s basement, watching Coraline and Fantastic Mr. Fox, eating chinese food, and for the weather to be cold. 

I’ve saved three drafts tonight; partially because I feel like I should right a text post since I haven’t posted one in a while, but I’m also having a tough time writing one because I don’t have much to talk about. Life has been busy. Lots of working. Lots of sleeping. Lots of consuming food I regret eating immediately after. I guess I’m doing alright.

I saw a homeless guy while working today. He came up to the patio and stole food off of a guest’s plate. My manager called the cops. He said, “having homeless people hanging out around the restaurant scares people away.” I don’t know why it irritated me so much. He’s homeless. If he’s going to steal food, then act scared and runaway immediately after, he’s hungry. Give him food. It pisses me off how homeless are dehumanized in situations like that.

My car has been broken for the past month. It’s finally fixed, but because my last job sharply went downhill, and I lost a lot of money, I’m slowly working on getting new insurance on my car. And hopefully soon, new tires.

Sometimes I wish I could get things handed to me. Sometimes I wish I was naturally book smart and swim my way through school. Sometimes I wish I was born in an upper class family so money was never a problem. But, here I am. I grew up in a household that lived paycheck to paycheck. I learned how to become financially independent my senior year of high school. And in this past year, I’ve had my ass handed to me over and over and over again. I’m doing okay, though. Life has been wild. And I’ve been tackling it the best that I can. I don’t really give a shit about what anyone has said about me. Because, no one takes a second to see where you started, and see how much you’ve grown to where you’re at now.

Life may not be exactly where I’d like it to be, but life is good, and I’m learning to enjoy it.

None of these paragraphs are related to the next. Sorry this jumps around.

This is something that bothers me. Something super disgusting that bothers me. Like, if you aren’t interested in poop, I advice you to read no further.


Now, I know public bathrooms are different, but at a private home? Come on. There’s people who live and share this bathroom. Waking up and seeing poop streaks in the toilet ain’t what I’m about.

Ya dig?

I hate that I constantly have to search for what could potentially be a bad situation every time I put my car into park.

I hate getting yelled at, whistled at, and even have disgusting, scummy middle aged men come up to my fucking car window trying to get my attention.

I have never been so fucking disrespected, and offended. I have never felt so vulnerable and so damn helpless.

Like why should I have to completely avoid the gas station by my house? I can’t even put $10 worth of gas into my car.

I do not ever want to see some guy do that to a girl whose young enough to be their daughter.

Growing up being female is so dangerous, and so scary.

One of these days, it’s going to be some scummy piece of shit that I’m going to flip out on. Whether it be the millionaire coming into my work place trying to flirt with his waitress while he’s out away from his family, or the guy strung out on meth at the gas station; I am going to flip the fuck out.

I am not eye candy. I am not a toy. I am not some pet. I am a nineteen year old fucking girl who wants to be left alone.

I have had enough of being disrespected by grown ass men.

Serving is sometimes really cool, when I make $200 in one night. On a Sunday. Making $350 in two nights. Saturday and Sunday.