Wishes from the Garden

From my home to yours…
What does it mean to you?
Sometimes it takes someone else to acknowledge things before I do so myself. Like blogging for example. I’ve never sat back and thought about what blogging means to me. Or what it means to have a blog. There are a handful of bloggers that began punching a keyboard four years ago alongside me that I remain in the loop with. Each of their blogs is more successful than my own. I say that with a sense of pride and inspiration. While communicating with Ashley from Mental Health@Home, I realized the integral role blogging plays in my recovery. So I went ahead and made a nifty list!
1. I have a support system.
2. I have a safe space to share my vulnerabilities.
3. Others are on a similar life journey and are compassionate of mine.
4. I am not alone.
5. Others do care.
Yes, a simple itemized list of 5 sums up the feels I get from having a blog. Anyone who is human can attest these are critical to have and not to recovery alone; in life.
This blog is witness to transformation.
This blog is a testimony of life.
My life.
This blog reminds me to breathe.
This blog mirrors tears, hopes, dreams, and fears.
This blog embraces mistakes.
It encourages.
This blog is a display of endurance and strength.
This blog is the result of what I receive as a blogger on WordPress.
Isn’t that a beautiful thing?
Just by being yourself, you have a deep impact on someone else’s life.
Hi! If you found yourself here by way of title interest, you will discover my technology detox experience interesting. However the reason being, I believe we can all use a detox from technology. I forewarn you, it isn’t easy going tech-free. The idea is a mere distant reality but perhaps I can prepare you for aspects that are unexpected and challenging.
βTechnology is a useful servant but a dangerous master.β
Historian Christian Lous Lange
As a culture, across cultures, and the world, we can agree we live in an instant gratification society. Everything we desire is at our fingertips, a click away. Aside from the access to endless information, the worldwide web offers communication with fellow humans with who we may not be given the chance to communicate before the expansion of technology. Factor in social media and you’ll experience a bubble of humanity without respect for personal privacy. Look at me pops in my head as a slogan for a generation knowing no differently.
As with all commodities we tend to acknowledge the advantages and discard the negative. Most especially about technology. It is integrated into our lives without resistance or choice. I found this to be a disturbing consummation of reality. Let me back up.
I am using technology after a seven-month detox. During this time I concluded that life tech-free is not a possibility. This post will explore how I arrived at this bold conclusion, aspects I found disturbing, and the truth behind our touch reality. Now that I’ve put the cart behind the horse, let’s move forward, shall we?
The numerous avenues one must travel to arrive at a state map is discouraging. I find this to be limiting. I stumbled upon the lack of map access when planning a scavenger hunt for a weekend river float trip with my daughter. My then eighteen-year-old wasn’t a stranger to the sight of a map but have never personally used one, I thought it would add a challenging twist to our hunt. Little was I aware finding a map became the hunt! Ahhh, … the good ole days when you could find a state map at every corner store.
The next annoying aspect of attempting life tech-free is interacting with fellow Homosapien. This next to impossible feat weakens the whittling hope I have left for humanity. Surface level exchanges, βYour email, please.β or βDid you see…?β. None of which triggers me sensory. I found myself in silence while in the company of others more often than not. Bless my mother’s heart for referring me to Facebook, I deleted that account three years ago! Interaction has become about what it is not rather the emotion evoked, the laughs had, or tears shed.
Have you purchased a watch in a while? If not, going tech-free you’ll need to if you want to know the time. Not surprisingly this trickles into needing a planner for setting appointments and scheduling other important events. Do you see where this is going? The level of insanity our reliability on our devices prevails. On my journey of detox, asking others βwhat time is it?β, didn’t last long. Shopping for a watch became a task. I have specific requirements for my watch. Digital, and waterproof with a light. You’d think the simple demands would be met more often than not. Wrong!
Sometimes in life things we do not necessarily need but want are taken from us without choice. This is the case regarding my tech-free detox. Some of you may recall my post about being hacked. The timing wasn’t desirable as I had experienced another psychosis episode around the same time and well, that issue got significantly worse, forcing me to eliminate technology… for my sanity! There has been no resolve except my acceptance of the invasion of privacy. The way I see it, it will take care of itself in due time.
If I am to consider my experience with tech-free detox, I must not exclude how little knowledge people have surrounding technology. Lemme tell ya!! I do not believe myself to be more intelligent than the average Joe, however, I was proved incorrect. First and foremost employees of Verizon are merely representatives of the company and are not trained in technical support. Really. If you are experiencing technical difficulties, your issues are to be resolved over the phone. Yeah. Ya know the phone you are experiencing trouble with. Yeah, that one. Psst.
I could continue but I will stop. Some of what I was met with would blow your mind. I hope no one else experiences identity theft or stalking. I may disclose my case in the near future but for now, I will wrap it up.
Does tech-free sound like something you’d be interested in trying? A detox from technology?
Curious about how I earn an income? You can find the deets here!!
None of us need a reminder about the challenges 2020 presented. Let’s mix it up and discuss a positive outcome amidst the world shutdown.
Sound good?
Despite the initial curve ball of the virus, restaurants and fast food places never skipped a beat. Establishments adapted to the challenge by forging ways to accommodate aghast Americans. Because of this the food and beverage industry will never be the same.
The ripple effect of the pandemic altered a dramatic yet welcomed change in the workplace dynamic.
After a lucrative (22 year) career in the food and beverage industry, COVID-19 forced me out of employment. And although I empathize with the victims who suffered, on a personal level, I benefited from the pandemic. I feel guilty typing that but tis true..
Yup.
Mentally, emotionally, financially, and spiritually.
2020 was a transformative year for me.
I began R.O.E in 2017, six months before turning 39. Once I hit 40, December 2018, I set a goal to resign from the food and beverage industry by age 45. The idealistic dreamer in me imagined earning an income blogging. Which remains a possibility considering I am almost into year three of my five year plan π I am not going to lose hope. COVID-19 put a spin on my plan yet it challenged me to begin the process of transitioning careers. Taken into account my skills, mental health, and age, this isn’t a simple task.
Wanna know more about me? Check out The Rewrite
Digging deeper into my personal life you will discover the way I earn an income lends itself to an unconventional lifestyle. It isn’t your typical 8-5 Monday through Friday desk job. While it never has been, my work environment changed drastically!!
My vehicle became my cubicle!.
This means everyday is a party!! It doesn’t get any better than controlling the temperature at an arm’s length and listening to music that promotes my best self. It goes without saying the best part of it all … is it’s a solo dolo job.
I’m gonna go ahead and confess. This set-up is as close to my dream job if I ever imagined one.
Wanna check out my view desk?
Good because I snapped a few images!
Approaching the year mark of unemployment I began pondering employment options. Side note- I will be forever grateful for my extended break. I would like to think it was well-deserved but that feels off- to think that I am deserving π€.
Working with the knowledge I possess, I opted to continue with the food and beverage industry, however, from a new angle. I took my tolerance for others into consideration and came to the conclusion that working for a delivery service best eliminated concerns while exceeding my personal needs.!!
The perks of my job far exceed the cons. For starters I pick and choose when I work. At any point in a 24 hour day, I can hop on the app and work. If the area isn’t busy it’s possible you won’t be needed. As part of a reward system based on ratings, if you reach Top Dasher status, you can work even when it isn’t busy.
Another perk gives me the liberty to dress myself. There is no dress code to adhere to other than wearing a mask, any mask of your choice. The company does sell branded merch. I spent 11$ and got me a tee-shirt.
The requirements of the job are a background check, your own vehicle, insurance, and drivers license. Once you pass the background check you can start working. Literally within 20 minutes of signing up, I was off delivering.
A few cons are using public restrooms, store employees with attitude, and the wear and tear on my vehicle. I am an independent contractor which means taxes are not taken out of my earnings, therefore, it will behoove me to invest in an accountant. With this being the case, I am able to write off gas purchases, oil changes, tires, wardrobe, phone bill, etc. Basically the tools required to perform my job.
Once you pass the background check, you download the app. Setting up your profile is a breeze. Your pay and tips are direct deposited into your bank account once a week. There is an option to receive your pay the day it is made. Its called Fast Pay and cost 2$ per transaction. Since I have been dashing, a third option became available. It is a prepaid Visa. Your earnings are deposited free of charge with 2% cash back rewards on gas.
Subscribe to receive theGarden! R.O.E.’s monthly newsletter π€
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Upon being accepted DoorDash will mail you an activation kit. The kit includes a mask, a red card (swiped at drugstores), hand sanitizer, and a hot bag. I happened to be included in a trial where I was able to dash prior to receiving my kit so the process may look a bit different for you. That should cover the start up stuff.
Next you log into the app. A map pops up with the coverage area you chose when setting everything up. The map highlights the area according to demand. Light red indicates business and dark red signifys very busy. At the bottom of the map screen you press the Dash Now widget if you are ready to work. The app gives a reminder list of items needed so you can deliver without interruption. Tick the boxes and you are ready to rock and roll!
When prompted with an order you have 30 seconds (I believe) to accept or deny it. When an order is offered it displays the mileage to complete the delivery, your base pay from DoorDash, and tip when it applies. The base pay changes depending on distance and a few other factors. If you are in an area where multiple orders can be combined, the app will offer you an additional fee for stacking orders.
And that’s it!! Pretty freak’n simple, huh? It’s the perfect side gig and no complaints with dashing as my only stream of income.
Just a little extra info: advertising in my area claims an hourly rate of $16. I am at the end of my work week with tomorrow off and my hourly rate totals $18 for the 33 hours I have clocked. Not too shabby if you ask me.
Is your job unconventional? Has being a delivery driver ever piqued your interest? Tell me all about in the comments below. Feel free to ask me any questions about DoorDash. If you decide to give it a try, make sure to say I referred you because we will both get a monetary bonus!!
Stop stigmata language
The up-to-date version of my life story!
Writing a summary of a life story escaping death while white-knuckling life is a challenge. Lucky you! You made it in time for the third version. I believe everything is better in threes. And I guarantee this snapshot is the best yet!!
I am 42 years young, a Sagittarius, and a horse in Chinese birth year. I am an INTJ/INFJ personality on the Briggs and Meyer, and an empath. I donβt know what my love language is but yβall will be the first to know once I wrestle that unicorn. I am from Louisiana, I cuss to emphasize passion, and I am on an arduous journey called life.
A long list of diagnoses assists healthcare professionals in guessing what is wrong with me. No solution yet but hey, Iβve got one hell of a story!
It is because of mental illness and the stigma attached that I share my personal perspective of life lived from the βill sideβ. For that reason (and entertainment purposes), I will list my rap sheet.
Bipolar 1 (rapid cycling)
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)
Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD)
Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD)
Major Depressive Disorder (MDD)
Alcoholic (in recovery)
And last but not least, I have my Ph.D. in sarcastic charisma with a Masterβs in glitter sprinkling.
I am the middle child of an Irish immigrant and a U.S. military brat. I am the sparkly one in the family but boy do we all shine π
My parents are baby-boomers and I am of the (lost) Gen X generation.
So there ya have it, folks!!
Howβs that for a life summary?
Enough said, right?
Wrong!
Thereβs more.
Pssst. Things arenβt going to get suuuppper personal with like details and shit but here goes surface level personal.
Oh, a quick disclaimer: I am not blaming or judging my parents for the decisions they made. Raising children does not come with a manual,
however,
I am a product of, and I quote
βa severely psychologically abusive childhood homeβ.
I can only imagine what my daughterβs therapist is going to label it.
Yup. If ya dish it out, ya gotta be willing to take it and I am waitβn for it. Just sayβn.
If you enjoy this post, check out About Me: The Weird Stuff
I will give credit where credit is due.
I was raised in an upper-middle-class home. I never went without food. We were involved in extracurricular activities. My parents busted their asses to see to it that we got what we wanted (within reason) and my mother made a miserable home happy-ish.
With all of the above taken into account, there is an additional layer of invalidity. Having older and younger siblings not as emotionally scared as myself adds yet another.
My parents divorced shortly after the youngest graduated. Everyone went their separate ways to process the madness. Or were we celebrating? I guess it depends on who you ask.
Months prior to the divorce, I had the joy of telling my parents I tripped a fell on a penis. Not typically the worst news coming from an independent 22-year-old college student unless the penis is of another race. Ah. The life of a white southern girl who could care less.
I survived the life-threatening remarks from my father and went on to give birth to a healthy, bi-racial bundle of innocence. It was somewhere in between being disowned by my father, the divorce, infidelity, and birthing a child that I hit the make-it mode button. I lived my life entertaining and providing for a child all the while disassociated.
Basically.
Iβd say that is about right.
I vaguely remember the day when I came to. I said to myself,
βHey, do you remember riding that cool walkway in the airport on the way to Vegas when you made the decision to not think?β.
A piece of me woke up in that moment. I hadnβt questioned, doubted, or processed a single thought or idea, pertaining to me, in ten years. My make-it mode was overrun by my instinctual mom mode without ever dropping the ball. The transition was smooth.
At the age of 33 I made a decision to not drink an alcoholic beverage.
That day in August of 2012, I was admitted into the psychiatric ward.
For the first time since I was 13, I went four days without a cigarette. This would be my first of eight medical detox(s) from a fourteen-year “functional” run of alcohol consumption. Unbeknownst to me I developed a chemical dependence to alcohol. Not only was I unaware of the risks involving alcohol detoxification, I was not convinced I had no control.
I went on to challenge this notion facility after facility. One year in and out of institutions taught me about my disease. April 20, 2015 I put the bottle down.
I surrendered.
I have not had a drop of alcohol since.
During my inpatient stays I was introduced to medical models of alcoholism. These included opinions from psychiatric professionals. In between my medical detoxes I found myself admitted in the ward. I am fortunate to have found a local facility that allowed smoking. They specialize in behavioral health care. With each admittance I revealed layer after layer of disassociated wonder.
Each day I meet myself where I stand. Some days I triumph, most days, I exist. I would be lying if I said I am not bitter. Daily I mindfully counter that bitterness with gratitude. Some days I am successful and others I am an overripe grapefruit. Ewe.
The best advice from my experience is this:
Most importantly find it for yourself. Who cares how you get there but without it you are sure to sink.
I searched everywhere looking for someone to tell me where to start. I needed a starting point. It wasn’t until I found compassion for myself that I was truly able to begin my journey of healing.
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I was recently given kudos for the contents of this post by a new follower, shout-out Rochdalestu, so I figured while I am updating it, I may as well repost it for any other new followers of R.O.E.. If any of you are curious about the blogger behind the scenes, this is a personal as it gets!! Enjoy.
I am going to spice things up around here and share a few annoying, weird…simply Candace traits that make me…well, Candace π
1. Before I can even begin to complete an idea, I am on to the next episode of it (Perfect example above). And apparently, life plays like a movie reel in my mind. CUT?! If I remember my dreams they usually end with To Be Continued… just like some television shows used to do.
2. At home, we have four small dogs. A toy Maltese, J baby, a terrier, Ruger, a pom, Remi, and last but not least, Tater, our pound pup. It sounds like a lot but all of them together equal two dogs so it’s not so bad. The best part, none of them shed. Oh, yeah…dog dialogue. I spend a lot of time at home and it’s usually just me and the dogs – chill’n. The majority of my life I have created voices for our animals and boy do these four have a lot to say!! It has become a running joke that the dogs and I are Paw Patrol. We give out citations for my sister’s all-nighters, leaving me with her two fur babies and their kennels – we call jail. π I know, I know…what a life but if you can’t entertain yourself, no one can.
3. Roughly two years ago, I picked up drinking coffee. I have two cups in the morning and two in the evening, around 4 pm. I have always enjoyed the flavor of the warm, sugary goodness but my preference leaned more toward ice coffee. I wasn’t an everyday drinker by any means. Well, one day I decided, what the hell, what’s one more addiction?!? I had a cup of hot coffee and haven’t looked back. It is likely I quit drinking it on the daily though because I do not want to stain my pearly whites.
4. I am severely claustrophobic. No small spaces!! I cannot do small spaces. I prefer rooms with more than one exit. I am so claustrophobic that it is the source of much of my anxiety. A few examples being…if I share a bed with someone, I cannot sleep facing toward them. It feels like they steal my breath. When I sleep, I have to fold the corner of my pillow under so it doesn’t swallow my face and suffocate me. If someone stands to close to me in line at the store, I have to step to the side of the line. My heart races and I feel as though I am being pushed with nowhere to go. And don’t you dare think pinning me down for a game of tickle is ever a good idea. In such a case, you are likely to lose a limb. And my fave, do not call me rude because I do not want to hug. Please. I understand that is some people’s way of exhibiting their admiration for you but it makes me extremely uncomfortable because again, face to face breathing, chests touching and I don’t even really know who you are…no. Just please, no. A handshake or dap works for me or if you are ancient, a high five will do.
5. Resting bitch face is real. When I feel anxious, which is the majority of the time, I hold my breath. I am sure this contributes to the claustrophobia but nonetheless, I hold my breath. This leaves me no little time to worry about how my face looks (typing that was weird). I am also a mouth breather and in order for me not to walk around, mouth agape, I must focus on the in through your nose, out through your mouth breathing technique or else I’ll turn blue (really, not really). I’ve had the habit of holding my breath my whole life. Growing up I often held my breath to get what I wanted. If Ma said no, I would hold my breath until I got it. That is until one day our neighbor came over and popped my mouth which made me gasp for air. She saw that my mother was struggling with me and my breath-holding tactic and decided she could take no more. She popped my mouth and just like that, I was forced to breathe. My Ma said I gave that woman go to hell look each time I saw her after that and never spoke to her again. I was three, y’all. Three.
6. It’s true, I sniff most everything. For some odd reason, I have to smell almost everything. But the tragic thing about being a mouth breather is if it is a bad smell, I taste it before I smell it – ewe is right. I guess I use my sniffer as a memory tool. I will smell the oddest of things but my favorites are magazine pages, freshly sharpened wood pencils, laundry detergent, lemon, and bleach. I like the smell of markers but since I picked up coffee, I decided I’d leave the markers alone ππ
7. Candy is sweet. I am not. Yes, I can be a sweet, caring person but my name is not Candy. Nothing is worse than introducing yourself just to have the person rename you. I get it, some people shorten their name and go by a nickname. Cute. But if I introduce myself as Candace, I want to be called Candace, damn it. Not Candy.
8. If I speak about a topic it’s because I know about it. The saying she’s always right applies to me when I speak – hear me out – I only speak if I can add value to the conversation. No, I am not perfect or a know-it-all but I was born with an underline intelligence as my gift. That sounds cocky but it is something I’ve always been told. It isn’t in every subject, only those that interest me and I use my intelligence to correct others when they are wrong. Not to humiliate them rather inform them. That isn’t to say that I haven’t crushed a few egos with my witchy charismatic intelligence but it’s not always my intentions. If I decide I want to learn about a subject, I can read a little about it and somehow unfold the rest of the information on my own. That to me is common sense. As far as “common sense” goes, I have none. None. I do not get jokes, I do not entertain small talk or gossip, and if I were stuck in a brown paper bag, that’s where you’ll find me the next morning!! Don’t argue with me either because I will argue with a wall.
9. There is a difference. As a woman, the last adjective I want to be used to describe me is big. I’m almost positive this minuscule aggravation was picked up from hearing my Ma say, she’s tall, not big, my whole life, however, tis is true. I am tall, 5 foot 10 inches to be exact. I am not big. My build is considered a medium build with broad shoulders, big boobs and from the belly button down, I am small. Ya know, like a triangle ππ My ankles and feet are so small that guys in high school used to ask me how your lil bitty feet hold ya body up Candace? Hahaha. If they had paid a lick of attention, they’d seen this size 7 doesn’t do so well π as I am prone to tipping over while standing still.
10. Love/hate, angry/optimistic, excited/anxious, and too many others to mention. I have a love/hate relationship with about everything in life. I love people for what they don’t love about themselves. Often times this leads to them embracing said trait yet I hate strongly dislike how others feel as though it’s necessary to point out my shortcomings. I know where I lack. Believe me, I know. I am an empathetic person who doesn’t sympathize with anyone. People do not surprise nor impress me. I do not trust a single soul. No, not one. Not even myself. But if I trust you enough to allow you in my life, I have a tendency to overshare which has resulted in ammunition for when we fell out. Doesn’t bother me though because I am an open book. Some things sting but most, I don’t give too much time to. If I ask your opinion, I want an honest answer. If I don’t ask your opinion, I don’t want it. It’s as simple as that. Depending on the day, you could be told about yourself for sharing your unsolicited opinion or we could have an in-depth convo about it. Ya never know with me. They say this is common in the personality type I’ve tested to be, an INTJ. If you click on that link you’ll discover that I am of the rarest personality type there is. Oh, it’s just wonderful being me. Ugh!!!! My personality type represents only 4% of the population which can only mean one thing…I will be misunderstood for the rest of my lifeπ£ Yay. Fuck’n yay.
And as promised…my rbf
It’s always been said that if you want my honest opinion, tell me or ask me when we are together because my face will tell all. I speak with my eyes and if I don’t look at you, I don’t entertain your type. Some say snobby, I say selective. And you know what I said about when I speak ππ (reference #8)
(and because I don’t do even numbers)
11. Chatty Candace. I can always be heard “talking to myself”. I call it thinking out loud but I do indeed speak aloud while I am the only one in the room. Doing so helps me walk through steps, focus, and I just do. My MommyGee would have legit conversations with herself. I can picture her now standing in her huge walk-in closet justa chatt’n it up and she’d be the only one in there…well, except for me hanging upside down from her velvet mauve/pink chaise lounge asking her who she is talk’n too. π I love you Mable and miss you dearly.
Hey, but really if you do, backlink and invite others.
I tag Ashley from Mental Health @ Home. And, duh.. a huge shout out to Ash for being amazing!! She sets the stage by example. No bullshit. It is what it is and I think she may represent that #lowlife too π You make me proud Ashley.
P.S. I am not turning R.O.E. into a gallery of selfies. I promise. #noworries