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Sunday, December 28, 2014

Generally irritated

And over stupid bullshit, too. I'm glad my ex is out of my immediate life. We fooled around a couple times over the last week before he left town and I'm supremely disappointed in myself. I mean, we didn't have sex. But I definitely dropped my self-respect and I'm very unhappy about it.

However I find myself having irritating feelings of jealousy about his girlfriend. (They are in an open relationship. This in no way justifies my behavior.)

She's a prettier, more successful (perceived) version of me. Great artist. Avid gamer. Has my hair style without my pink and my side locks. Has also fabulous guages, but a larger size.

And she's a stoner and being taken for a ride by my indecisive ex that I do NOT. Want back.

So what in the Hell is my problem? Is it that I'm irritated he doesn't have a crush on me anymore? Is it how much more he's willing to do for her than he ever did for me? I mean, shit! He moved across the country for her!

I'm irritated that it's irritating me. Lames. My focus is paying dearly for this.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Thoughts

D... Did he make a younger, skinnier clone of me? Cause she's got my hair, and I heard that haircut was new. Whaaaat?EVar not my problem. But that's creepy, man.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Thoughts from the end stall

I sit in the corner stall, avoiding my work-out because I'm tired. I haven't eaten today, the thunder got me up two and a half hours early, and coffee just wasn't enough. I am so tired.

I can feel my pulse in my thighs. I was on the treadmill for a grand total of 22 minutes. Did I give up because I was tired and unfocused, or because I was bored?

I think about my Saturday night date. Meh. He seemed... Boring? I didn't feel an attraction. But maybe he was nervous or didn't want to talk too much. I'm going to see him again. I never develop attraction to people before I get to know them.

My friend suggests a three strikes rule. That seems like a lot of dates. Also, if a guy presents himself as really interesting on the first date or first meeting, doesn't that indicate rampant narcissism? That he's so self-involved that he just got really good at presenting himself?

But then does that make me a narcissist too? For focusing on myself and learning to put my needs first more often? Surely there's a balance and a guy can be interesting without being totally self-involved? A little humble?

Ugh. Why do men have to feel like enemy soldiers? Dating. What a world.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Of note:

I deeply resent a date that makes me come up with everything. Have a fucking original thought. Impress me for fuck's sake.

Oh, I have to pick the day, time, and you have no location suggestions? Lovely. You seem like a winner.

Of course one never knows. Maybe I'm just ridiculous judgemental. Or maybe I have unreasonable expectations.

Or Hell maybe he's nervous.

Gah. Balancing my bitch with my facilitator is hard.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Why shouldn't I be angry?

Ex just confessed his feelings for me.

What is this, Fuck with honestgoth month? Because the universe is on a roll. Two solid weeks of work, dealing with a full on business catastrophe during that time, and then two weeks of depression and psychological paralysis, and dealing with massive urges to hurt myself and the almost impossible urges to binge and purge. I've avoided the first sort of, except for giving into the second. And then this.

That's not including all the other little things, like my cycle still not starting, finding out crush wasn't single, feeling like a total fat-ass, having to reject an interested friend, and being triggered when I watched the shining.

I didn't even know I had a trigger, but verbal abuse moving toward violence, watching it, like jack yelling at his wife, that did it.

Seriously. This just finally went too far.

God? I know we disagree on a lot of key points, like most of the bible (provided that crazy book was even your idea to begin with). But I need strength right now. Also maybe magic. Or heavily advanced science. Just... Please. Help me. This is a nightmare.

I take great satisfaction in being able to roll with the punches, handle anything, one way or another, regardless of the actual outcome. I need to be strong, for me. So that I go the right direction in my life. Somehow. So that I don't let people down, or I tear them down, depending on who they are and how they choose to conduct themselves.

So that I don't pick the wrong guy, and I don't disappoint my mother. So that I'm a good parent some day.

I can't afford these mental breakdowns.

Please help me.

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Guilty

Tonight I found myself day dreaming about a guy that's not single. I feel terrible. I feel like a creep.

I don't foster crushes on people that aren't available. Hell, I couldn't even crush on the Supernatural guys after I found out they were all married. Those dashing, sexy sons of bitches. It just didn't feel okay to day dream after that.

The same should go here. I kind of thought the crush had mostly abated, since I found out that the guy I liked was no longer single. That's usually how it goes. I feel dirty thinking about it and distance myself.

I suppose it's harder to distance oneself from a co-worker. Aw who am I kidding? I have the best general manager on earth. If I wanted to never work a shift with him again, she'd make it so. I suppose I assumed it wouldn't be a problem.

But the dynamic between he and I hasn't changed, so I think maybe it's just taking my feelings a minute to let go. And by dynamic, I mean we're the same kind of weird. We enjoy hassling each other. Poking each other's vulnerabilities and weaknesses. Literally poking each other. Well that's him. I'm no longer in initiative mode.

I think my brain is translating all this goofing around as flirting. I believe it only seems like that to my brain, and not to his.

I know I do indeed still enjoy working with him, although I am no longer stealing glances. We're just buddies. That never hang out, except at work. Which is frankly okay. More distance is better.

And he has that thing. A thing I hated about music man. If he doesn't feel like talking, then anybody else's efforts to socialize just bounce of and make us feel like chumps. Psh. Humans. This is my least favorite of their qualities.

I think I feel a bit better after transcribing my feelings. Writing really helps me to work things through in my head.

Hopefully there will be no updates.

Friday, June 27, 2014

Of note:

Today is a doom fart kind of day.

That is all.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Of note:

So. There's this phone app called tinder.

And. I have a coffee date tomorrow. Herm.

Unexpected since I really just signed up as a drunken social experiment. Buuut... Why not? Worst it can be is awful, right?

Monday, June 23, 2014

Of note:

Fucking boys. Eeesh. Turns out the interest would appear to have a significant other.

Ah well.

His loss, I suppose.

But he ought not have flirted if he wasn't single, to be fair. But I suppose I can be faulted for not just asking, rather than taking the word of a co-worker that saw it on facebook. (Which, as far as I'm concerned, is a completely reliable source. That's just my shriveled hopes and dreams trying to convince me that there must be some mistake.)

And then we can fault him again for insisting he wasn't interested in the lady in question. That he is now apparently dating.

Which makes him a liar mcliarson. And therefore a poor choice for a date. So. Good on me. Dodged that bullet.

Goddamnit.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

So my body has terrible taste

But we knew that already. My current irritant point is the fact that a nice, decent person can ask me out, but if I'm not attracted to them, there's not a thing I can do about that.

Hate.

I had a decent human being, a legitimately nice guy, a friend, ask me out, today. I had to tell him I didn't feel that way. It was surprisingly easy, I remained confident throughout the conversation.

Many points to him on this. It was asked in a nice, non-pressuring way, and when I rejected him he was good-natured about it and made it easy.

I hope he's not hurt. I like having him as a friend. Hell, someday I might feel differently. Although I think if I were to develop feelings, I'd have done so already. I'm not going to hold my breath and wait on that though.

In my experience, forging ahead and hoping feelings happen is a bad call. Remember "good guy". I never had strong feelings of any kind for him. Dating him at all was unfair to both of us.

But it would sure be nice if my psyche was attracted to nice guys instead of violent/strong guys. Couldn't the two eventually combine?

But then he doesn't exist or he's taken by a more deserving woman (more deserving woman: see: vanilla Jesus slut).

You know what? It's still nice to feel wanted. I'll give it that. But needing to be wanted is a slippery slope. Example: ex wants me to come swimming tomorrow. I know that guy doesn't like to swim.

I. Hate. Everything. Except for my dog. And my friends. And my job. Heh. I guess it's just not that bad.

Friday, June 20, 2014

So. Bad.

Every time I please myself it's just not enough anymore. I have to go for two or three and I'm sweaty, tired and still needy afterwards.

I have GOT to find myself a man.

Of note:

In case I was too subtle in that last post (apparently it's a thing that I do), yes. I do indeed have a crush.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BOYS!

That is all.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Horny

I haven't slept with anybody in upwards of eight months. And my body reminds me every day. It's ridiculous!

I get it, this is probably my fault for being sexually active before marriage at all. My punishment for exploring my body. Not sorry. Girls can have as voracious a sexual appetite as men. I am no exception, indeed between me and my ex, I was the far needier party.

We shouldn't have to be ashamed of something like this. When we complain about our guys being horny all the time, "oh, it's just how they're wired!" When we complain about being horny all the time, we are sluts, cats in heat, "have you tried praying about it?"

Excuse me? Those are double standards inflicted on us more by other women than by men. Family units eager to limit us. Friends eager to shame us. Trusted guides urging us to fight this "affliction".

You know what? No! You find yourself a toy, dream yourself up a partner and you hit the party button. Repeatedly. With a vibrator.

If you have no qualms about sleeping around a bit (you are lucky), then find somebody to take home.

As for those of us going it alone? Enjoy that crush! Flirt, daydream, just keep it light and fun! A crush can be a terrible thing to waste your mind on though.

These days I daydream all too often.

Monday, June 16, 2014

Of note:

It's insane how much I've changed over the years. I spent some time going through old posts to see if I would delete any. A lot of it is very embarrassing. Me saying I'd get away from some guy for good, and then the very next post complaining about him jilting me again. Physical problems. Masturbation, love, sex, personal dignity and veganism.

One post in particular mentioned how it seemed I'd never get away from my exboyfriend until he found somebody else. You know what? I did. He sent me a sext, a photo of his fucking dong, and said it missed me. I actually rejected him. I reject him every time he tries to get close in that way now.

I did change. I can be better. There is proof in these pages of shame.

Eventually I became the strong one. He hit me. But you know what? I rejected him and it stung him deeply. He has no power over me anymore. I'm a bitch to him. I'm not afraid to say what I think when he's being manipulative and an idiot. Before I was afraid to speak up, afraid he'd get angry or hurt me.

Why bother to keep him in my life at all? I have two reasons. The first is... I suppose a little upsetting, but true: He knows me. And people that know me are all too rare. I need people that know me in this world, it anchors my sanity.

Second? He is a reminder that I can become strong. I can make myself miserable now in order to give myself a better life in the future. He is a reminder that the one that needs to stand up for me is ME.

I am my champion.

Clarity

Here it is. That bright moment of clarity at the end of everything you've come through in this life.
All of the sudden it doesn't matter if they know who I am. I want them to know who I am. that I'm honestgoth? Yes. That I'm a freak with a broken psyche? Yes. That I'm still kind of a pseudo Christian? Yes!
I don't want to be afraid of my friends and my family. They know who I am. They just haven't seen it all. It's time that I just laid it out for them all to see. I'm not hiding anymore.

I don't really remember the first five years of my life. I hear that they're supposed to be really influential. I hear that if you go through trauma during that time, you can get pretty messed up. You'll be a fucked up adult. From what my mother tells me, there was a lot of hazing by my peers. Kids are cruel. More so I think at Christian school. They already think they're right about everything even though they're not sure what that is yet. Christianity, already ruining lives.

Do not misunderstand me. I have not abandoned my god. I've just abandoned my faith.
To be fair, that faith was in humanity and it was unwisely placed. I didn't know any better. How could I have? It's how I was raised.

I don't resent my parents for this. They're good Christians. They always seek out the churches that are doing the right thing for their communities. Feeding the homeless, caring for people in need, doing good!

But the institution the Bible is based on is rotten to the core. The Bible is a book that condones genocide. Nay encourages it. Where are the Amalekites now?

Not so funny when it almost happened to the Jews, was it?

That book is built to control human beings. It is full of evil and stories of the victors. And we all know that the good guys don't always win, right? Christ never spoke of a god so evil as the one we see in the Old Testament. Hell even Sunday School skirted over the bad bits, showing our malleable minds a good God, a loving God.

Not bothering to show us the evil in the other chapters.

The book was written by tons of different people over hundreds of different years. Excuse me if I don't believe every word. I don't believe every word in the history books! And we had reliable witnesses for those.

I'm sorry. This topic makes me very angry. And hurt. I feel betrayed.

I feel bad for my family. They've been nothing but good people. They have never done me wrong. But the closer I look at my faith the harder it is to believe in it.

I'm getting ahead of myself, anyway. Back to the first 5 years of life.

There was bullying. I was a stupid little kid. I'm not denying that. I was babyish, and kids found me weird. They didn't want to hang out with me.

Why should they have?

I was busy living with all the people inside my head. With them I could make myself understood and they understood me. I was daydreaming though. I still am. I still have a hard time understanding other people and finding other people that understand me.

Oh they're out there. It's just that they're rare. People from my writing group. Some of the people at my work. Maybe it's just that I need to spend enough time with people to warm up to them. I know people that leave parties with new friends. This has never, ever happened to me. I envy them so much.

I fondly compare my method of making friends to Stockholm Syndrome. If they spend enough time with me, they'll be my friend eventually, whether they like it or not. Obviously I don't take interest in everyone that I meet. But there's so many interesting people out there. Maybe I just run into more of them working in pizza.

When it comes to romance, I'm pretty much screwed. And that's figuratively screwed, not literally.
You think I'm bad at making friends? You see how bad I am at men. You have seen all the horrifying stories of my love life. The overly descriptive experiences of my first sex. With a bad person that made me feel forced and hurt me and wouldn't stop when I begged him to. You know about how I went back to him just so I would know that sex didn't have to hurt.

The relationship that was abusive and lasted for too long. I was so naive for so long. I let him hit me. I'm so sorry, to all the women out there. I let that happen to me. I made it seem like it was okay the moment I didn't leave him, kick him out, or call the cops. I'm so sorry.

To all the other battered women out there, I'm sorry. Next time I promise I'll leave him. I'll never let anyone hit me again. I will make life a living hell on any man that thinks its okay to fly off the handle and hit his girl.
They should never have to ask for forgiveness for something like that. They don't deserve it. They deserve to be social pariahs. The problem is that they're fucking sociopaths and they're pretty good at making people feel sorry for them.

I'd like to think that I'll get it right next time. But I'm afraid of next time. I know I don't want to sleep with anybody anytime soon because I'm afraid that I'll get stuck to them like I've gotten stuck to monsters before.

My heart is a helpless slave to my vagina. Its not a good thing. But it's fairly normal. That's why I've only slept with a couple people. Well that and my crippling social anxieties...

But I now know that I'm not going to find a Christian guy. I'd be short selling him, and he'd be short selling me. It wouldn't be fair to either of us.

Someone with an open mind and a good heart? It sounds good. Someone possibly  as broken is me but still handling themselves? Dealing with their anxieties instead of falling apart. I don't know. But I don't want my crippling fear to keep me from finding him. I have to get myself out there and I'm afraid to do it. I hate being like this. Every romantic experience I have had has made it harder and harder to get myself out there. Even as I continue to find out who I am. To become the person I want to be.

I'm terrified of letting myself love, because I don't trust my own goddamn judgement. I'm afraid I'll fall head over heels for another fucking sociopath. I have to learn to tell myself no when everyone is saying 'it looks bad, man'.

Of course my mother's judgment is going to be a little skewed. She really wanted a Christian guy for me. Hopefully she'll be able to look past that and see if someone is good for me. I need my friends and my family to help me judge the people that I love. Not to say that I have a whole lot of options but I like to be prepared.

I'm going to post this. People will be able to see the older posts. This blog is where all the trash goes. The things I was afraid to talk to people about. Things I was most ashamed of my life. I didn't want to have to be ashamed of them so I wrote them down.

I swear, I talk about sex and other bodily functions, in uncomfortable detail, even nasty things like periods and weight loss regiments. I talk about the most horrifying things that I like, and I display a lot of anger. I may still go back and privatize some posts.

Remember that we all have secrets. We're all messed up on some level. This is just all of my mess out in the open.

I love you guys.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Hiding in the dark

I'm hiding in the dark, hiding from my problems, letting my life slide down a dirty drain.

How can I sit here and let everything go? How is it that even if I cancelled everything I didn't need, I wouldn't have the money? How is it that I couldn't pull myself together when I had a chance to get the insurance that might have saved me 1300 dollars? I have so many things to do. I have so many promises to keep. Why the fuck is it all about money?

How did keeping promises turn into cash spent? I promise to go see a far away friend this summer. 650. I promise to introduce a young friend to alcohol (because it should be somewhere safe with someone who loves her and wants her safe and capable of protecting herself). 40? I promised my mother I'd finish school. 200. I failed in the promise to make myself healthy and went to the hospital. Just to find out it was cysts. Again. 1300. I have to learn to live on nothing again.

I don't miss it. Hell, I fucking hate it. I hate scraping change together so that when I go out with my friends, they don't have to know that I'm destitute. I get food from the food bank. I buy off the value menu. Still need to tip. I can't not tip. Still have to buy drinks. They can't know I'm being conservative with my money. I want them to think that I'm fine because they have so much else going on in their lives. And they seem to be handling alright, most of the time.

She has children. She just found out she's getting laid off. He's celebrating his new book. She's been battling depression for years and just found a guy that makes her truly happy. He's been stuck in the same dead end job all his college career and can't get out from under his parents' thumb. And she hates the man she loves.

And that's what they want to talk about. Of course, why wouldn't they? I feel bad putting my madness on them. What if they decide it isn't worth their time? Worse what if it chases them away?

I have a list. I have a dog that needs a spay. I have two credit cards to pay off, first the store card and then the bank card. They're just under 500 dollars together. I owe my mother another grand of the 2500 she lent me last year to help me pay for the card I used to buy a nice bed with my ex just before he left me. I was doing okay, but it was becoming really difficult to keep up and the bank was less forgiving than the bank of mom. I only accepted it because she offered... I need medical insurance. I need new glasses. I want to go to the renaissance festival and I'd like to bring back souvenirs from the steam punk con, cheap ones obviously. I promised I'd travel to Minnesota for a friend.

And those are the things on the list that just want my money. The opposite, equal reaction to money is time. I need to get in shape or risk more hospital bills and a lonely life. I need to write my novel, which is my plan Z, as in the last thing that is likely to make me successful, according to my mother (who has her faults but is generally a good parent). I need to finish school. I'd like to become a certified welder, which takes money AND an astronomical amount of shop time. Because I'm a freaking weld rookie and I can barely maintain an arc. By the time I've given each thing a little (not enough) attention, it's four in the morning and I work at ten.

It's like a thousand swirling, vicious circles.

Then there's the nice things I'd like to do for myself. Build some shelving for my art area and bedroom. Make a nice coat rack for my living room. Learn the goddamn ukulele. Buy a nice weighted keyboard to play on. Play my flute more regularly. Work on my drawing and writing. Shampoo my fucking carpet. Paint a mural on my laundry room doors. Paint up all the canvasses I have left. Work up some tattoos and find a good artist.

I suppose I should add finding my self-respect and a quality mate to that list, but frankly I'm too busy for that nonsense.

I can sometimes push myself for weeks, only working, doing other work, doing life improvement work, eating and sleeping. No down time. Get up. Go. Go. Go. Sleep. I can usually go for two weeks like that before I have a full on psychotic break-down and become so terrified and upset that I sit, cowering in my darkened bedroom, doing nothing because I can't prioritize which thing comes first. I'm paralyzed. Sure. I can handle at work. I have to, people are depending on me there. But when it's just me that is depending on my actions, every other aspect of my life comes crashing down.

It's like I'm juggling plates, and rather than just dropping one or two to make things easier, I drop everything, except the work plate. And I stand there in the shambles of my life, clinging the last plate to my chest, staring in horror at the shards at my feet. One week later the panic fades, my demons die and I'm left with the mess.