13)*The heart of Khaos: The Story of Eva & Parker.

So I’ve mentioned my animals, introduced you to most of my cats, and talked about the loss of Eva a little. I haven’t really talked about Parker much yet though. The other inspiration behind my company name.

I got Parker when he was 6 weeks old. He pulled up in a plastic tub that was open just sitting unsecured in the back of a pickup truck. He smelled like he had been sitting in his own filth all day. I felt so bad. I couldn’t leave him with those people. I paid them and took him home.

He didn’t really want to be touched. He would turn and snap aggressively. He was like 10 lbs and it was adorable. But he was a rottweiler… mixed with a german shepherd. He wouldn’t be 10 pounds for long. At 2 months he was 20 lbs… 3 months 30…4 months 40… I got scared at 7 months. They don’t stop really growing until they are like 2.

I had already enrolled him in a training program because I didn’t know what to do. He could bite me all he wanted. I just couldn’t risk him biting someone else.

My legs were bruised from the knees down for the first 6 months of his life because our walks were mostly him biting my legs or dragging me around. Most of the training program was spent breaking this habit rather than actual training. I was not prepared for him. I had help… but he wasn’t much help. When the animals misbehave they’ve always been mine. It didn’t matter the relationship. It’s my responsibility. Why did I let MY animal do that?

He got to sit and lay down by the end of training but that’s about it. I couldn’t afford more, that first round was everything I had to spare back then. But at least we could show off with puppy push-ups!

I got him mostly under control by the time he hit 1 but there was always that voice in my head thinking about what would happen if he snapped.

He shredded soda cans for stimulation. Stepping on legos is nothing compared to a little shred of soda can in your foot. Anything fabric or stuffed was destroyed before it hit the floor.

I got him neutered hoping it might calm him down. They told me he would probably be pretty chill that night but to make sure he didn’t run around or do anything crazy and risk the stitches.

When I let him off the leash as soon as we got home he started racing laps around the living room and doing parkour off the furniture. So much for the hope of calm.

When he took his first nap on the couch beside me at 8 months old I genuinely thought he might be sick. I had never seen him be still for that long, it wasn’t even an hour.

Again you might ask why I’d put myself through this.

I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.

Really I thought if I could save something from feeling how I felt I should do everything in my power to. Even at my own detriment. Even if it really made things worse.

Having a rottweiler/gsd in an apartment, in a crate while at work and at night, is going to lead to A LOT of pent up energy. Especially if they started out in not the greatest environment with issues to work through. If it had been fully up to me he would have only been crated while at work because of his destructive tendencies. But I still compromised my values for acceptance back then.

We moved into a house with a yard and it helped a little. I thought maybe another dog would help use up some of his energy and help him focus a bit better.

Boy was I wrong. Trying to train Eva and keep him entertained had me losing my mind.

Luckily I had made a friend by then who also loved dogs and could deal with Parker’s insanity. My ex was always working to pay for the house and increased costs. I helped as much as I could paying for the utilities and for groceries and stuff but I made so much less. I tried to stay on top of everything but always felt like I was drowning. I didn’t have the energy to clean, work, and stay on top of the dogs not destroying everything. It was never enough.

Nothing in my life has ever seemed to be enough.

No matter how much responsibility I took on.

No matter how much I contributed.

No matter how much of myself I put into something.

I’d give every single ounce of effort I had inside me.

And still be met with what I hadn’t accomplished. What I’d missed. Where I was lacking.

What’s funny now is…

The less I do, the more content I feel.

I don’t worry about Parker biting someone anymore.

It’s happened. The world didn’t end. He didn’t get put down.

He gets drugged, muzzled, and still needs to be pinned for vet appointments but it’s fine. At least it shows me he’s still got the strength to fight these days.

Someday’s he barely has the strength to make it up the stairs. Where I end up in California won’t have stairs. For both our sakes.

That’s one impending future anxiety I haven’t yet been able to release.

How will I survive losing him?

It’s the trauma bond of all trauma bonds.

He has made my life so much harder almost every single day of his life but I wouldn’t trade a single one of them for anything.

When an ex would yell he would get between us.

When they slapped my ass a little too hard he grumbled.

He always had my back, even if he was the reason I was watching it.

When I got Eva that protection only doubled.

I didn’t train them to do it but I noticed that one was always by my side while the other checked the perimeter when we were outside or at the park. They were my personal security.

My safety barrier from the outside world.

I didn’t need to worry about people trying to talk to me.

Eva was a barker.

When I first met her she ran right up to me and was nothing but love.

The lady who brought her was shocked.

“She never does that! She usually barks at everyone and needs to adjust to them first.”

My pick me ass thought. “Oh that must mean we were meant to be together.”

I didn’t even hear the “She barks at everyone she meets” side of it.

The day a small child ignored her aggressive barking while she was tied up for a bath and I was bathing Parker was a day I thought my life was going to end.

It felt like slow motion.

Me trying to get to her leash to pull her back.

The mother seeing her child and sprinting to try and pull them back.

But that little girl just kept going right up through the barks and started petting her.

She stopped barking.

The mom pulled her daughter away. I finally exhaled as I got to Eva myself.

Sometimes when the alarms are going off and you think the world is going to end it doesn’t.

The mom turned and glared at me as they got in their car and I apologized.

We were both at fault though. It was bad timing. Poor planning.

Two women just doing their best to keep everything they were responsible for managed and slipping a little.

I didn’t take the dogs back to the park for a while.

They got crazier and more pent up.

So I had my friend come with me when she could. It wasn’t enough but it was better than never.

When I moved to Nebraska I honestly wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

I had managed the months we lived in Colorado without my friend for help.

But now I would actually be alone.

I found an apartment that allowed German Shepherds. Nowhere allowed rottweilers though.

I didn’t have health insurance or a therapist, let alone even a primary care doctor to ask for an Emotional Support Animal letter so I found a company online and bought one.

We didn’t even make it 6 months.

I felt so hopeless while living there though. Eva had never done well with crating. She destroyed 3 and so many padlocks before we gave up. I tried keeping her locked in the bedroom but she would bark when I left, and when I came home, so I could only assume she barked while I was gone too.

Everyday I cried before and after taking them outside. I’d peak and make sure there were no dogs around to make for an easier walk but that didn’t alleviate the stress. Because when we did run into another dog the look on people’s faces broke me.

Yes, holding those dogs back wasn’t easy but I wasn’t being dragged toward them.

I had full control of their leashes and they were in properly fitted front attaching harnesses to minimize their abilities to pull me.

Yet still you’d think those people were in a horror movie being chased by a zombie clown.

They were such sweet dogs if you’d just get past how they looked.

And their aggressive barking…

How they liked to act tough.

I came home from work one day to a letter on my door saying something like…

“Due to noise complaints you can no longer leave your dogs unattended.”

I could barely afford rent, let alone daily dog care. I had to break my lease though or pay for the rest of the year.

Thankfully my dad helped me find a little house on the outskirts of town before it could show up on my rental history. We’d worry about that later.

I was drawn to people like my dogs too.

I just wanted to understand, I think.

Why are all the things that are “scary” usually so soft and cuddly once you get past the hard outer shell?

I definitely related.

Resting bitch face is a great way to say “you're not masking to make me comfortable”.

Sorry for just existing, lemme put a smile on so YOU feel better.

Anyway I felt horrible for all the days I had ruined just trying to live my life while loving and caring for these dogs I had committed to. They were my reason for living, you see.

When I got my full mental health diagnosis in March the last thing on the list was Dysthymia or PDD (Persistent Depressive Disorder). It’s a long lasting low grade of depression that involves feeling sad, empty, or tired most of the time.

I touched the back of my neck as I read about this.

*Dead inside*

I have the grim reaper tattooed there with those words.

I had the realization that what I had been feeling all my life wasn’t all that was possible.

My highs had never been that high. I didn’t feel ANYTHING when I achieved things. I didn’t understand how people were so driven by things that weren’t a part of survival.

Things that made them “happy”.

When I was 11 my mom had her accident. If you haven’t read my whole blog yet I suggest going back for the full story because this is just about what I haven’t touched on yet.

Before her accident my life was centered around gymnastics.

I competed in national events. I wanted to be in the Olympics.

But I was stuck on a move on the vault. I was 11 having to start to confront my fear of the unknown.

They wanted me to do a roundoff onto the spring board and then flip backwards onto the vault.

Something in me knew that if I could just get this move I would get to the next level and everything would be easier. I knew all the moves I’d have to learn after that one and if I could conquer this I could conquer those easily.

Nothing else asked me to sprint full speed at a large unmoving object and then flip backwards and land on top of it for the first time again. Different variations sure, but by then I’d know I could do it.

I was flipping off the bars and flying through the air to catch another bar. Was this REALLY that much scarier? Even if I ran into the vault or fell off it probably wouldn’t hurt as bad as hitting the bar on your hip bones. That shit left bruises for WEEKS.

But then my mom had her accident and I never had the opportunity to overcome that fear.

I was left hanging like 4 months into the struggle.

After her accident one day my dad and I were going to the grocery store so I could feed us.

Outside the door was a lady with a sign that said “Free Kittens” or something like that.

The whole time we were in the store I begged my dad. The only line that’s remembered is this one though.

“Pleaseeee Da, I need someone to tuck me in at night now.”

How could he say no. “I’d manipulated him.” I’m sure it wasn’t meant with any ill intent but that word always stuck in the story. Always stuck in my brain as something I must be.

She was mostly black with 4 little white feet. There was also some white on her tummy and chin as she was a tuxedo cat. I wanted to name her Boots.

The lady convinced me I should name her Bootsie because animals respond better when their names have 2 syllables.

I don’t know the truth behind that but it definitely worked with her. I could call her name and she would come running from outside if she could hear me.

That cat was my everything.

When the awareness of self harm came into my life I felt the draw.

But I couldn’t risk leaving her.

I couldn’t leave her with my family.

I couldn’t leave her without me.

So I never listened to the urge.

Lots of people around me gave in though. Friends and family, both “unsuccessfully and successfully”.

I definitely formed plenty of self destructive tendencies, but I always KNEW I had to stick around for my cat.

Going to college without her was terrifying, but I embraced the opportunity to try and find myself.

I was finally free of all the limitations I had put on myself with the identity I had created in high school.

I no longer had to stick to the things I had told people about myself when I was 14 or 15.

Masking made the concept of growing up hard to understand I guess.

So when I had to leave college I tried to focus on that opportunity again, but at least this time I could have my cat with me!

I packed her up with all my stuff and we drove down to Texas together to start our new life.

Me 18, her 7. She was my everything. I didn’t need anyone else if I had her by my side.

Then I met my first ex, we moved from Austin to Houston when I was 21. Found another cat and took her in too. Bootsie was resistant at first but warmed up quickly. By the time I got Parker she was 11. One of my cats growing up had died pretty early, but my mom’s cat lived until 18 so I figured we had plenty of time together.

I was wrong though. One day I woke up and something was off. She just didn’t seem right. She was lethargic and breathing kind of weird so I called the vet and took her in.

They did a bunch of tests and told me she wasn’t doing well.

Her organs were failing. They could try and save her but they would probably just prolong her pain and suffering.

I asked if I could take her home to say goodbye and bring her back the next day and they let me.

That was the first time that ex ever saw me cry. I didn’t like the attention people gave me when I cried. I just wanted to be left alone.

That night I cried so hard I threw up. I didn’t know it was possible to feel THAT SAD.

I didn’t know how to exist without her but I figured it out one day at a time.

I had a day off work but then after that I had to pull it together. I couldn’t afford not to.

I was a waitress then. Even more of a people pleasing job than being a bartender. At least as a bartender you can be an asshole when it’s warranted, unless you work corporate.

That was the first real showing of the strength of my mask.

I put on a happy face and served people all day and then broke down completely as soon as I got to the car.

I was used to that though at least, that was a normal life occurrence by then.

When I’d get home I let all my feelings out with Parker.

He didn’t understand. He was just playing around me being a puppy and licking/eating my face when I tried to hug him.

He didn’t know he was helping put the pieces of my heart back together.

But he’s always held his responsibility as my new heart proudly.

Every new animal he’s accepted more willingly than the last.

He knows who I am. He knows I’m never going to stop coming home with new animals to love. 

When we lost Eva we got through it together. He didn’t understand where she went.

He didn’t understand why I wasn’t here for them when it happened.

But he knew he had to be strong for me and that I would be strong for him.

No matter what I would always show up for him, I never let him down.

My ex used to throw it in my face.

“You care more about those animals than you do me.”

I didn’t know how to say, “You’re not my reason for living.”

So instead I said, “They can’t take care of themselves.”

And we were both left with what was unsaid festering.

I was wondering why he needed to feel more important than a helpless animal.

He was probably wondering why he wasn’t enough for me if I loved a dog more than him. (This is projection, I do not know what he was thinking.)

Neither of us saw the actual issue.

I didn’t love MYSELF enough to WANT to be alive.

I was doing everything I needed to do to survive so I could take care of my animals… not myself. My existence was just a by-product, it didn’t really matter.

I’ve spread the weight of responsibility out as best I can with 8 animals, but Parker has always had the brunt of it. I needed to prepare for how that loss would hit. So I needed to write this to work through the loss of Bootsie first. To see what I was really hiding from. This way when the time comes I’ll only be losing him. Not my reason for living since I was 11.

Because I’m no longer surviving to take care of my animals. I am LIVING every single day to the absolute fullest. I no longer waste my energy thinking in spirals about things I cannot do anything about. If a problem arises I handle it. If I need time before handling it I take it. If the world around me does not “allow” for me to function how I NEED to… 

Then I adjust the world around me.

I don’t want grief to push me back to that state of not being in control of myself. Even temporarily.

When I say I adjust the world around me I don’t mean I make IT change.

I mean I adjust what parts of the world I choose to interact with.

Or I adjust my perspective of what I’m struggling with.

OR

I simply put it out of my mind as irrelevant to my life and go on about what I was doing.

When I become aware something doesn’t align with me I don’t need to change it or make it disappear. I just need to stop engaging with it.

Not everything in life needs a reaction.

But also there’s A LOT of things in life that DESERVE reactions that we don’t “have time” for, because we are too busy reacting to this VERY IMPORTANT THING that we can do literally nothing about. Or talking about this crazy thing that already happened and can’t be changed.

Flowers deserve a reaction.

Sunsets deserve a reaction.

The way dew beads up at the end of a blade of grass deserves a reaction.

Someone being murdered… that doesn’t deserve a reaction. It deserves justice and love.

Love for the life lost.

Justice for the pain caused.

But unless you are DIRECTLY affected by the murder.

IT DOESN’T DESERVE YOUR EXTENDED ATTENTION.

Now don’t get me wrong, my bookshelves are filled with thrillers, serial killers, and so much murder. I understand how entertaining it can be.

But isn’t that fucked up?

When there’s a murder on the news everyone gets so caught up in it they remember the killer's name for years but forget the victims after a week. They make facebook groups to discuss the clues that come up and try to figure things out that the cops aren’t sharing.

Giving your attention to these things is not honoring those lost.

If you’re truly honest with yourself, it’s just glorifying the one who did the act.

Using their “evilness” to distract you from your own life. From the pain you're causing to yourself and those around you by living asleep. Forever blind to the pain you cause.

Emotional intelligence isn’t something you're born with.

I suppose it can be, but I’m sure it can also be taken away through life experiences just as quickly.

Emotional intelligence is something you have to work for.

You can’t find it in a book.

You can’t find it in a friend.

You can’t find it in me.

All of these things can help guide you on your journey.

But the only way to attain TRUE emotional intelligence is to go within.

You must look inside yourself. Learn WHO YOU ARE and then fight with every ounce of will in your body to protect that spark you found.

Now you might need something external to bring you back to the pain if you have a tendency to intellectualize things. This means repeating the cycle, but not hiding from the truth when the world starts crumbling. Taking responsibility for the part you played and OWNING it. (Read past blogs for a more detailed explanation on how, probably 4&5.)

The world around us has been trying to put out our spark since we were born. It’s not their fault that’s just part of the process.

You see deep down WE ALL HAVE CONTROL ISSUES.

Because we are all BEING CONTROLLED.

Once you stop looking to the outside world for permission or confirmation you start to see how easy life could actually be.

Every decision doesn’t need to be a battle of wills or pro’s and con’s lists.

If the decision is TRUE it should be easy.

There should be no hesitation.

You should just be able to coexist with the world around you.

But you can’t just wake up today and decide to listen to yourself. It’s a process. You’ve probably spent your entire life having the outside world contradict these internal cues. You’ve learned to ignore them or push them down.

Or even call them anxiety.

When I have “anxiety” it’s because I’m doing something that doesn’t align with me.

Anxiety and fear are not the same thing. They can feel quite similar, but one is a feeling of discomfort (emotion) and the other is a survival response.

Now when you start treating anxiety as fear… or fear as anxiety, your body gets confused.

It’s giving you the right cues and you're doing the wrong thing because someone around you made you think it was the right thing.

Now everytime you do the externally “right” thing you are reinforcing to your body that its signal was wrong.

Imagine your body going through that experience 50 times a day for 25 years? No wonder chronic illnesses exist.

When bodies just start attacking themselves “for no reason”.

There’s a reason. We are just so far engrained into the system that breaking out seems like insanity.

Like quitting your job and starting to pack up your house before you even know how you’re going to get to California other than for a vacation.

How can I trust that it’s going to happen so fully that I’m already figuring out where to start packing? My trip to VISIT is still 2 weeks away. Let alone finding a place, or the money to fund said place.

But those aren’t right now issues.

There’s NOTHING I can do to solve them right now.

I mean there is.

I could take time and energy AWAY from what I’m doing to bring in more money and drag the process out over years.

But I would have just stayed at the bar if that game plan was going to work for me.

My body said it won’t and I am done arguing.

The answers I look for will come along the path when I need them too.

Or I will be inspired to start an action that will result in them.

That is what I have to trust in.

I don’t know what’s coming. Not in detail.

But I do KNOW that every step I figure out reveals the next. The only time I get stressed or stumble is when I stop looking at the step I am on and trying to figure out the ones that are still 5 or 6 steps away.

THIS IS REALLY HARD FOR ME. I’ve been trying to leave to go for boxes instead of finishing and posting this blog all day. But every time I ask myself what I truly want to be doing, it’s finishing this blog. But I’m still trying to race to the next step because I know what it is. It’ll still be there tomorrow if I don’t get to it today. I won’t be late.

My whole life I have tried to see 12 steps ahead. I had to know what was coming. I had to be prepared. My anxiety was uncontrollable if I didn’t know what to expect. If I wasn’t in control.

I’m smart enough that I could usually keep it pretty well managed. My wallflower tendencies let me learn how people acted and interacted so I could predict how things would turn out pretty well. This was very helpful as a manager. People very rarely surprise me.

When they do it’s usually because I didn’t WANT to see it.

Letting go of that control has been difficult.

Just gotta trust the process.

You have to be open to every possibility because you KNOW it’s going to be better than what you came from. But you can’t try to control it. The second your ego tries to attach to an outcome you block the universe's possibilities and limit your own future. My mind is limited to the possibilities my life has shown me. The universe has access to every possible outcome. If I cling to a possibility it can block the universe from giving me something EVEN BETTER.

So the fact that I have no idea how I’m going to get to California, or enough money to live there comfortably isn’t my problem. Solving that problem is not a lesson this life has taught me. It’s taught me a million and one of them to prepare me for this journey. If that was necessary I’d already know and be working on it. Clearly my scope of imagination does not include the reality that is about to unfold.

So now I must give in fully to my blind faith. Back full circle to another cycle to close.

You see… I broke my ankle running up the stairs.

I turned to look back instead of watching the next step, and my whole life changed.

Now here we are 3 years later and the ONLY THING THAT MATTERS is the next step I take.

So after I post this I’m going to start packing. Take control of the part of the situation I am in control of… myself. The universe can handle all the big details because the little ones are important too, and I’m going to be too excited about moving to pack my books how I want once it’s actively happening. I mean… it’s ALREADY happening, I just don’t have the moving date yet.

You need to focus on AND CELEBRATE every single step. You can worry about 5 steps ahead when you get there. I deserve to have the entire world at my fingertips, and so do YOU. We just need to start KNOWING it. Because we already have it.

Celebrating the wins is important for keeping your brain happy. It doesn’t need to be anything big. Even a pat on the back and a good job kid. Can go a really long way with yourself.

Try not to take life too seriously. Sure, everything can be a lesson, but it’s not some test you can fail. It’s just a game we’re all playing. A “wrong” decision just leads to a different reality, not the end of the world.

The less you listen to your body, the harder it is to make the controls work the way they are supposed to.

Life is not supposed to be as hard as it is for you, right now, forever.

You hold the keys to your prison cell. You just gotta be willing to release the things you need to release in order to be free.

Or you can stay anxious. Stay sick. Stay depressed. Stay scared. Stay stuck.

Just ask yourself if you're living by your own values.

Or if you’re living by values instilled into you by the life you’ve lived so far.

Your body holds the answers. You just need to learn to listen.

I’ll be out enjoying this beautiful universe around me and spending my time in ways that fill my cup rather than only drain it like worrying about what’s coming.

Because when I do that the universe rewards me with dreams coming true that I couldn’t have imagined if I wanted to. IYKYK

Thank you for walking with me on this journey. <3

I appreciate every single person who actually reads these more than you know.

And if you’ve actually read every single one I would LOVE to chat.

Please feel free to reach out to me at callmekhaos23@gmail.com

I will not be responding to any instagram messages. It’s not worth my mental energy to use my discernment to figure out who is worth answering there and who’s just hitting on me. But even if you’ve only read this entire blog, that’s enough for me to want to share a little of my time and respond to you. I can’t promise I’ll endlessly continue the conversation though, that part's on the discernment cause I’m just hoping to find some new friends. Maybe some like minded people to discuss this beautiful life with.

Love Always - KHAOS