I have worked for the supermarket for almost 2 years (July 3 will be two years since my first day at work—I was hired in Late June of 2018). A family has been patronizing the store since probably before I was hired. It is always a father, a mother and their adult son. The son is überly handsome…and he is very friendly—but not overly so.
His parents are never without him, and I’ve never seen him inside the store without, at least, his mom. I really enjoy chatting with the dad…we kid around with one another each time we see the other.
Today, as I was walking back into the building from gathering carts or something; the dad was in the line of sight where I was walking. I don’t recall what was said, but I stopped and chatted with him for a good 5 minutes, and I noticed that his son was sitting at the blood pressure machine in front of the pharmacy.
Dad had just stood up from getting his reading, and his son sat down. That’s when the dad and I began chit-chatting. He saw me and got a big smile on his face before telling me it was really good to see me (all this time, I was discreetly noticing his handsome son getting ready to have his blood pressure taken, and I was hoping that he would come over and join his dad’s and my conversation once the test finished).
As normal, his dad and I joked around and just had a pleasant conversation. At one point, something was said about his winning money and I jokingly said something about it being mine as well—it made much more sense at the time. Now, I don’t remember the details of our conversation. However, I do remember the dad hugging me before he began to walk away. It ended up that his son and I walked side-by-side when he was finished at the blood pressure machine.
Neither of us spoke to nor looked at the other. Now, I’m starting to understand why that could be. Maybe it is wishful thinking…
I had went to the back of the store; as I had cleaning duty, today… I was returning the trash bin to the back of the store. I was walking and I saw handsome man, again. Normally, I am the first to speak, but today, he said something to me, first. I walked over to the product, answered his question…he seemed to want to continue talking to me. He pointed out some apple juice, and asked if I had ever tried it.
I informed him that i had not, but I definitely would because it was made from my favorite Apple—Granny Smith. He noticed me that they were on sale 2 for $5. I responded by saying something about his nice way of pointing that out—as there were 2 bottles on the shelf, and I was sure that he was going to purchase them, so he was just mean for pointing it out tome. I said that was my favorite Apple and I always wondered why they never had a juice made with Granny Smith Apples.
I made my way back to the front of the store, and as I was walking away; I sensed that he was hoping to be able to keep me around a little longer. I told myself that to was imagining that sensation and got back to work.
Then, at another point, as I was walking to the office upstairs; I passed the family as they were in line, checking out. It was then that I said to the dada something about not forgetting his promise about the money…and kept walking. I didn’t dare look at his handsome son; because he makes me nervous…but a good sort of nervous.
The dad, and mom were making their way out the door; when for some reason, the son stopped and began chatting with me, again (this was the most that we had talked since I first met him—almost two years ago).
We talked about our ages (he asked how old i was and I pretended to be taken aback and told him that he should know not to ask a lady her age). It turns out, he is either 2 or 3 years my senior. I’m so stupid, when I found that out…I hugged him! lol I claimed that I assumed that I am his senior…and I sort of did think i was older than he is.
I don’t know how or why, but I told him that I was once on the radio in Birmingham and that I was also a morning-show producer for Rob and Shannon , and I was on air at both stations.
I got the impression that he is a devout Christian…and as he was going to meet his parents at the car, I asked what his name is. He said, “Chris, my name is Chris.” I said, “Of course it is. That is only my favorite male name.”
Okay, hopefully it won’t take 2 more years for him to ask me for my number, or even invite me to his church.
Life is looking up for me. Getting a job at a grocery store where my crush works…is probably the best thing I have done in quite a long time; my crush is becoming just a pretty thing for me to look at/watch. I’m “right at home,” and becoming the ‘social butterfly’ I remember so fondly. I am not at all insecure. I love my job.
I broke up with HUD (well, HUD kicked me and the baby’s out of HIS house…our home)?and I took my babies and we moved into an apartment that Mom found for me. Mom knew how unhappy I was living with and being in a relationship with HUD; she called me on Wednesday, September 12, and told me to check my E-mail because she sent me a link to an apartment that accepts not just one dog, but multiple dogs!
I immediately looked at the link she had also sent me via text; I fell in love with the apartment. Mom said to me on the phone, “Okay, now, it is a basement apartment; but it is nothing like the one in New York…it has windows!”
Mom and I watched General Hospital and an ugly woman was at some girl’s grave and it was like the woman was voicing how I was feeling.
Saw 2 red birds, then we went into Ross in Trussville. Mom and I were in different areas of the store, and we heard a dog bark (inside the store). I heard Mom say something about a puppy, and I saw her walk over to the dog, who was in a buggy being pushed by his owner.
A little later, I was near the checkout lane, as the lady with the dog was walking toward the checkout. I pet the dog; he kept licking my face and wagging his tail erratically. The lady told me that the pup’s name is AJ when I asked.
Mom came over, and recognized the woman was trying to checkout. immediately after, we met a woman whose husband had died with the same things that Nana suffered with (breathing problems, not being able to speak coherently, could no longer walk). We told the lady about Nana passing with similar issues.
After leaving Ross; as mom turned onto West Hill Road, I began crying softly because I knew Nana wasn’t in the house waiting. Mom grabbed my hand to comfort me. I wasn’t aware that she could hear my sobbing. I think she just knew how it was affecting me when she grabbed my hand in a loving way.
As we were going up the hill; a red bird flew lowly across the street in front of the car. Mom smiled, and clutched my hand tighter; she said something about Nana letting me know she was okay. I smiled, and through my tears, I said; “Hi, Nana!”
When we went inside Nana’s house; Mom and I watched Golden Girls. Blanche was hearing the voice of her grandmother who died.
It was assumed that I would be depressed and likely suicidal when I sustained the TBI and was released from being in the hospital in March of 2004. I was prescribed many anti-depression medications, and “forced” to swallow them daily. Mom did not like that I was having to take the pills; the doctor’s told my Mom & Jeff that the anti-depression medication was also helping to heal my brain or some BS. So, I unwillingly took them.
The anti-depression pills were to also help me cope with how drastically different the life I remembered had turned out. I begged my neurologist to take me off of them; Dr. Markert informed me that I would have to talk to Dr. (I just lost the name–NOVACK) about being taken off of the prescription. I asked him to take me OFF of the anti-depression medication, but he refused.
I am not sure why (possibly because it was still “new” since my accident) he would not allow me to be taken off of the prescription at that time; I continued to take the dreaded pills for a little while longer. When I visited Dr. Novack again; I requested that I be allowed to discontinue taking them. Finally, he approved it…I remember that I explained to him, “Sure, my life has changed…but, I am not going to kill myself! I feel lucky to be alive and able to complain!”
Over the past few years; I have had “I wish I were dead” thoughts. I have told a few folks…I suppose I was reaching for help (because I am very sad)…not a single one has taken me seriously (Jamie, Mom, Kacy, Jason…etc). That, or they are just spooked by hearing that and not sure how to help me. Mom gets angry at me…the last time I told her I think about killing myself; she said to me: “Do it” with a look of pure disgust, and mean ness in her eyes. She has her own BS to deal with…still, I honestly wanted to. But, I do not want to slit my wrists or put a gun in my mouth. I’d rather just go…peacefully.
Then, I think of how my Mom is going to react to my suicide (even if she told me to “Do it”) and I worry for her well being. Then, I think of Mr. Whiskey and Princess Coco. I’ve actually thought to myself quite often that I would go through with it…when my baby’s die. I do not want them to be taken care of by any other; nor do I trust anyone to treat them as well as I try to.
When I have told people; the folks will say, “Oh, Brandy…it’s going to get better” or something similar, and then change the subject or we endure an uncomfortable silence/change of subject (usually on my part because I don’t want the other person to feel strange or call some suicide hotline for me or something).
Being dead would solve not only my “problems,” but I truly think it would help my Mom’s “problems” with trying to get a place for ME to live, too. Then, I know she would “use” my death as a catalyst for her own suicide. And, I can’t allow that to happen.
See, all of these reasons NOT TO, make me understand that in the book definition of “depressed;” I do not fit it at all. I am sick and tired of LIFE. I also think that life could very well “just begin” when our Earthly body’s leave the world.
I am not willing to tell anyone again because I do realize that people scare easily and are not sure of what to say/do…the only person who wasn’t all “counselor-ish” to me is Matthew Jacobs. He responded (via FB messenger) that he felt the same…
I went to The Rogue Tavern, ALONE … tonight. I tried to go a few weeks ago (March 6), and Dustin sent me a text that had a screenshot of Erath Old’s status update, saying that he and Walker Hayes were re-scheduling for tonight due to Walker having strep.
This was the first time I have ventured out to the bar/concert scene since my wreck FOURTEEN YEARS ago. My good buddy, Dustin, was going to try to be there; but he ended up not being able to go. So, yes…I was “me” again–going out alone.
With the help of my GPS, I was able to locate the restaurant/bar. I found a good parking spot on the side of the building; and began to make my way to the entrance. I saw a WZZK vehicle parked on the street and some ZZK staff in the front of the restaurant. That was kind of comforting and also very disheartening. I remember very well being the girl who helped set up the “remote’s.” I was missing that (greatly) as I saw the 20-something-year-old “adults” doing everything I once did myself in preparation for a small concert. I was wanting to stop them and say: “CHERISH THIS TIME…it is likely going to be your most fond memory to have.” But, of course, I just smiled and continued my trek into the restaurant/bar.
As I walked in the door, a very attractive man was walking out of the establishment and headed for the door. It took me only a moment to realize that the dreamy man, was the very same man I had come to watch perform…Walker Hayes! I said to him, “Hello Walker; my name is Brandy…and I want you to know that your CD has not left my player in 3 months. I’ve been playing the CD on ‘repeat! I love every song on the disc.” He smiled and genuinely thanked me. I was desperately searching my memory to tell him what songs, in particular, stood out to me. After he witnessed me thinking with no luck, he said: “Craig?” That took me off guard, so I just agreed–because, honestly, I have been listening to that song frequently. However, I knew that was not the song that I was thinking about…
Today, I planned to have the oil changed in my vehicle, then go to Nana’s/visit Mom. My plan was to go pick up a few items in the way of groceries when I finished visiting. Unfortunately, my truck broke down as I was en route. Jamie had to pick me up, and he had my Explorer towed to the shop (again). I was feeling quite pathetic.
Tonight, I drove his car to our local convenience store. As I was standing in line, ready to pay for my “Dulce de Leche” bottled Frappuccino; I heard the bottle smash the floor! I didn’t even feel it slip from my grip.
My Mom is right; my feelings are expressed in my facial cues/body language. For, I thought I handled the accident well…but, Sue, immediately said to me in her motherly tone, as she was finishing with a customer and rushing from behind the counter to hug me (and clean up the mess I had unintentionally made), “Now, don’t you worry about that; just go get you another one…it is okay!”
She then proceeded to clean up my mess, while refusing the help to clean that I offered. I tried to pick up the large glass pieces as she was making her way to the customer side of the counter, and she was being “such a Mom” telling me (worrisome and sweetly), “DON’T CUT YOURSELF! Let me get it!” I begrudgingly obeyed, and went to get another Frappuccino.
Another girl was being so sweet…she instructed me to go to the empty register where she could ring me up. I offered (and expected) to pay for the drink I dropped, she would not allow that. She told me, “It happens to all of us, it’s okay.” 😕 I continued to offer to pay for the drink I had dropped, and she told me not to worry about it!
I felt guilty as I was walking out of the store, I couldn’t even stay long enough to thank Sue, again (the tears were due at any moment); so, I asked the girl who was so nice if she could tell Sue that I said “thank you.”
This day has been a major FAIL!
Last night, Mr. Whiskey was grunting at me (to get my attention) as he was sitting by the screen door. I looked at him, and asked, “Do you have to go potty, baby?” He immediately began “dancing”-his ‘potty dance.’ Walking toward the door, I said; “Baby, it’s raining hard outside!” I thought he would recognize that, and decide to use the potty pad in the laundry room inside of the house.
He quickly ran outside onto the grass…and after doing what he needed to do, he ran inside and stood by the shelf where I keep the towel to dry the baby’s fur before going completely indoors. #GoodBoy🐶