In Which She Doesn't Even
That Zim icon there? Pretty much exactly how I feel these days.
I hate that I have no control over what happens to me anymore. I have to do what I'm told or I'm homeless.
I don't know WHY nobody takes me seriously when I say that. Who the fuck is going to take me in, my mom? My dad? As if either of them have ever shown effort to prevent my life from falling apart?
I don't want to do Job Corps. I don't want to sit around learning how to answer the phone and push buttons and do whatever people want.
I'm sick of people telling me to get a job. I am at the point where it makes me want to scream. And then I point out that, oh I dunno, I'm a drop out with no job experience (and I got fired the only time I had a job!), and they just give me a blank stare, as if to say "What's your point?"
...Because my shining personality is going to get me hired? My can-do spirit or my stint as the class president in high school?
I'm a fuck-up. Severely, I've managed to mess up every aspect of my life with flying colors. It took months of therapy just to get me to a point where I don't consider suicide to be Plan B, but now I just don't have a plan B at all. AND GOD am I sick of people telling me, "Well, whose fault if that?"
MINE. I'll say it loudly and proudly. MINE! MINE! MINE! GOLD MINE, YOUR MINE, MINE MINE NOT YOURS MINE.
Try living in my fucking life for five minutes without wanting to scream about how fucking miserable it is. Just because I know whose fault it is doesn't mean it doesn't SUCK. I have to live with a bunch of morons who don't like me FOR NO REASON. I have to deal with "Get a job!" every FUCKING day, despite the fact that I CAN'T get a job. I have to fight off this stupid depression that's relentlessly trying to swallow me alive, I don't fucking belong anywhere, not in Juneau, not in Salem, I don't have a family or anywhere that feels like "home," and people fucking wonder why I VENT.
There's a reason I bury myself in fiction, why I obsess over stupid TV shows and stories. It's the only thing keeping me from giving up completely and shooting up some heroin. It's the only thing that keeps me functional, and people even try to take that away from me. Sure, fine, I act like a little kid because it keeps me from BLOWING MY BRAINS OUT. I need to escape from all the bullshit somehow, so sorry if I don't choose everyone elses' refined, adult choices of weed or drunken nights of regret, but I'd rather do something that's at least SOMEWHAT benificial to me. And at least I can admit that disturbed obsessions with things that only exist in fantasy DO in fact, have negative effects on me, unlike EVERYONE who partakes in the two aforementioned "adult" forms of escapism.
Just. Fucking whatever I hate everything fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
I hate that I have no control over what happens to me anymore. I have to do what I'm told or I'm homeless.
I don't know WHY nobody takes me seriously when I say that. Who the fuck is going to take me in, my mom? My dad? As if either of them have ever shown effort to prevent my life from falling apart?
I don't want to do Job Corps. I don't want to sit around learning how to answer the phone and push buttons and do whatever people want.
I'm sick of people telling me to get a job. I am at the point where it makes me want to scream. And then I point out that, oh I dunno, I'm a drop out with no job experience (and I got fired the only time I had a job!), and they just give me a blank stare, as if to say "What's your point?"
...Because my shining personality is going to get me hired? My can-do spirit or my stint as the class president in high school?
I'm a fuck-up. Severely, I've managed to mess up every aspect of my life with flying colors. It took months of therapy just to get me to a point where I don't consider suicide to be Plan B, but now I just don't have a plan B at all. AND GOD am I sick of people telling me, "Well, whose fault if that?"
MINE. I'll say it loudly and proudly. MINE! MINE! MINE! GOLD MINE, YOUR MINE, MINE MINE NOT YOURS MINE.
Try living in my fucking life for five minutes without wanting to scream about how fucking miserable it is. Just because I know whose fault it is doesn't mean it doesn't SUCK. I have to live with a bunch of morons who don't like me FOR NO REASON. I have to deal with "Get a job!" every FUCKING day, despite the fact that I CAN'T get a job. I have to fight off this stupid depression that's relentlessly trying to swallow me alive, I don't fucking belong anywhere, not in Juneau, not in Salem, I don't have a family or anywhere that feels like "home," and people fucking wonder why I VENT.
There's a reason I bury myself in fiction, why I obsess over stupid TV shows and stories. It's the only thing keeping me from giving up completely and shooting up some heroin. It's the only thing that keeps me functional, and people even try to take that away from me. Sure, fine, I act like a little kid because it keeps me from BLOWING MY BRAINS OUT. I need to escape from all the bullshit somehow, so sorry if I don't choose everyone elses' refined, adult choices of weed or drunken nights of regret, but I'd rather do something that's at least SOMEWHAT benificial to me. And at least I can admit that disturbed obsessions with things that only exist in fantasy DO in fact, have negative effects on me, unlike EVERYONE who partakes in the two aforementioned "adult" forms of escapism.
Just. Fucking whatever I hate everything fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.