(no subject)
I know I said I'd keep quiet, and I think I've done a pretty good job of it, but I need to break that silence or I'm going to lose my damn mind. If you don't want to read this shit, don't. I know I'll most likely regret posting this, but I need someone to talk to, and everyone is asleep.
The last few weeks have been ok, nothing great and nothing too bad. I was even pretty damn good for a few days at the end of last week due to a Voltaire show I was able to go to. The show was great, I, for a change, actually looked hot (yes, I somehow found the ability to make myself not look like shit for once), and it was great to get out of the house with Jason, Nips, and Greg. I even found the bravery, sluttiness, or whatever you want to call it to get my boobs autographed.
The joy and rush from last week has faded into a pleasant memory, and reality has come crashing down around me yet again. Jason and I still haven't been able to find jobs. Hell, we've hardly even been able to look thanks to his fucked up sleep cycle. We're broke, having gone through the little money we had when we moved in with his mom. My bitch of a mother who said she'd help us out a bit still hasn't fucking done a thing, and I know she won't. I'm so ready to get out of this damn house and away from these damn people I can't stand it.
I want my own place, where I can say, do, watch, and wear whatever I want. I'm sick and fucking tired of feeling like I'm walking on eggshells with his mother. She, for some reason, has decided to like me...a lot. I'm not complaining about that, I'm glad she's finally realized I'm not going anywhere, but she seems to have taken it upon herself to try to be my mother. HA! I have one, thanks, and I don't want another. I don't respond well to someone trying to force the family thing on me. If I could explain to her I need her to back the fuck off a little without offending her, or in a way she would understand, I would. Every day that passes, I feel more and more trapped here.
I want a place where I can actually let Lucien out of his cage to play without having to worry about someone freaking out because he's out of the cage. I hate having to leave him in there and I know he doesn't like it.
I'm back in my angry depression again. I'd just rather be depressed. I don't lash out at people for stupid things or even run the risk of it when I'm just depressed. Part of me is still mad as hell at Jason for quitting his job, but I won't tell him that. I struggle with that one a lot. I understand why he quit, that damn place really was hurting him and making him sick. I just wish he had been able to take the time to get at least a few job prospects lined up first. I'm still mad at Angie and Neil...mostly Angie for kicking us out. From what I've come to understand, most of us getting kicked out was her doing. I'd love to kick her ass right now, but I know that wouldn't solve anything, so I simply don't accept her as part of my reality. I take some amount of comfort in knowing the universe will give her just what she deserves.
I'm still isolated from everyone. Sure, we'll go over to Jamie's sometimes, but I usually don't want to be there because I'll either just be sitting there, ignored, or feel like I don't belong there. For as long as I've known some of the people there, they aren't my friends, they're Jason's. They are people who know me, maybe give a damn about me, and know we have enough in common to hold some kind of conversation. I miss talking to people, going out with them, sitting at home and having a movie night with them. I miss my friends and I miss the little bit of a life I had.
I'm fed up with so much right now. I want a fucking job, my license, a car, somewhere better to live, my friends, and I want my life back. I want Jason to have a job that doesn't drive him nuts or make him sick, I want him to be in school for what he really wants to do, I want to be able to take some of the burden off of him. Why the hell does it seem like that's too much to ask?
Sometimes it feels like I'm being punished for something, but I don't know what. I don't know what I could have done to warrant this. As far as I can tell, I'm a good person, I try to help people, I'm reasonably considerate, I don't try to start trouble...am I missing something here, some huge black spot on my record?
I've spent most of my life fighting in some way. When I was a kid, I fought to be able to stand up to those who loved to put me down; as I got older, I fought to keep my sanity as my life fell apart, when my parents split up and my father tried to kill my mother; when raising my brother as my own child, I fought to do it the "right" way, even though I was clueless and still trying to grow up, I continued to fight to keep my sanity as I fell into deep depressions and started cutting; I fought to get away from my mother, who made my life a hell; I fought to get and keep a job so Jason and I could keep our place in G'boro; I fought to be the "perfect" girlfriend, even though it was obvious I had major flaws, I fought to have friends, even though I was terrified of losing them; I fought to keep from killing myself when we split up and lost the apartment in Gboro; I fought to keep the peace when we moved in with N and A; I fought my terror and depression when I realized I needed to try to save us from debt; I've always fought to keep friends and to not be as bad a friend as I really am.
Now I fight to stay hidden so I won't be smothered by an overzealous christian who thinks saying she'll pray for me will make it all better. I fight to keep from going into another major crash; I fight to keep from slashing myself up again. I'm fucking tired. Why do I have to fight for everything? Why can't some of this just happen? I don't mean to sound ungrateful for having a place to live. I am glad his mom, as over mothering as she is, let us move in. I'm thankful to have a place to live and something to eat.
I'm tired of starting over. I left mom's house when I was 19, just left/ran away...whatever. I spent almost two years sneaking in and out of this house...that's a lot of climbing in through windows, hiding under his bed, and going through hell to make sure his mom didn't know I was staying here. He gets a job in gboro, we move there, I get a job there...he loses his job, and I couldn't afford the apartment on minimum wage, so we lose the apartment, and break up for a while. We move back in with our mothers. We get back together and move in with N and A...things are tolerable for four years, he quits his job and can't find another, everything finishes going to shit with the roomies, we move here. I'm tired of starting over.
Now that I've whined, I'll go back to my mind numbing pass times until I can sleep. Sorry to have bothered anyone.
The last few weeks have been ok, nothing great and nothing too bad. I was even pretty damn good for a few days at the end of last week due to a Voltaire show I was able to go to. The show was great, I, for a change, actually looked hot (yes, I somehow found the ability to make myself not look like shit for once), and it was great to get out of the house with Jason, Nips, and Greg. I even found the bravery, sluttiness, or whatever you want to call it to get my boobs autographed.
The joy and rush from last week has faded into a pleasant memory, and reality has come crashing down around me yet again. Jason and I still haven't been able to find jobs. Hell, we've hardly even been able to look thanks to his fucked up sleep cycle. We're broke, having gone through the little money we had when we moved in with his mom. My bitch of a mother who said she'd help us out a bit still hasn't fucking done a thing, and I know she won't. I'm so ready to get out of this damn house and away from these damn people I can't stand it.
I want my own place, where I can say, do, watch, and wear whatever I want. I'm sick and fucking tired of feeling like I'm walking on eggshells with his mother. She, for some reason, has decided to like me...a lot. I'm not complaining about that, I'm glad she's finally realized I'm not going anywhere, but she seems to have taken it upon herself to try to be my mother. HA! I have one, thanks, and I don't want another. I don't respond well to someone trying to force the family thing on me. If I could explain to her I need her to back the fuck off a little without offending her, or in a way she would understand, I would. Every day that passes, I feel more and more trapped here.
I want a place where I can actually let Lucien out of his cage to play without having to worry about someone freaking out because he's out of the cage. I hate having to leave him in there and I know he doesn't like it.
I'm back in my angry depression again. I'd just rather be depressed. I don't lash out at people for stupid things or even run the risk of it when I'm just depressed. Part of me is still mad as hell at Jason for quitting his job, but I won't tell him that. I struggle with that one a lot. I understand why he quit, that damn place really was hurting him and making him sick. I just wish he had been able to take the time to get at least a few job prospects lined up first. I'm still mad at Angie and Neil...mostly Angie for kicking us out. From what I've come to understand, most of us getting kicked out was her doing. I'd love to kick her ass right now, but I know that wouldn't solve anything, so I simply don't accept her as part of my reality. I take some amount of comfort in knowing the universe will give her just what she deserves.
I'm still isolated from everyone. Sure, we'll go over to Jamie's sometimes, but I usually don't want to be there because I'll either just be sitting there, ignored, or feel like I don't belong there. For as long as I've known some of the people there, they aren't my friends, they're Jason's. They are people who know me, maybe give a damn about me, and know we have enough in common to hold some kind of conversation. I miss talking to people, going out with them, sitting at home and having a movie night with them. I miss my friends and I miss the little bit of a life I had.
I'm fed up with so much right now. I want a fucking job, my license, a car, somewhere better to live, my friends, and I want my life back. I want Jason to have a job that doesn't drive him nuts or make him sick, I want him to be in school for what he really wants to do, I want to be able to take some of the burden off of him. Why the hell does it seem like that's too much to ask?
Sometimes it feels like I'm being punished for something, but I don't know what. I don't know what I could have done to warrant this. As far as I can tell, I'm a good person, I try to help people, I'm reasonably considerate, I don't try to start trouble...am I missing something here, some huge black spot on my record?
I've spent most of my life fighting in some way. When I was a kid, I fought to be able to stand up to those who loved to put me down; as I got older, I fought to keep my sanity as my life fell apart, when my parents split up and my father tried to kill my mother; when raising my brother as my own child, I fought to do it the "right" way, even though I was clueless and still trying to grow up, I continued to fight to keep my sanity as I fell into deep depressions and started cutting; I fought to get away from my mother, who made my life a hell; I fought to get and keep a job so Jason and I could keep our place in G'boro; I fought to be the "perfect" girlfriend, even though it was obvious I had major flaws, I fought to have friends, even though I was terrified of losing them; I fought to keep from killing myself when we split up and lost the apartment in Gboro; I fought to keep the peace when we moved in with N and A; I fought my terror and depression when I realized I needed to try to save us from debt; I've always fought to keep friends and to not be as bad a friend as I really am.
Now I fight to stay hidden so I won't be smothered by an overzealous christian who thinks saying she'll pray for me will make it all better. I fight to keep from going into another major crash; I fight to keep from slashing myself up again. I'm fucking tired. Why do I have to fight for everything? Why can't some of this just happen? I don't mean to sound ungrateful for having a place to live. I am glad his mom, as over mothering as she is, let us move in. I'm thankful to have a place to live and something to eat.
I'm tired of starting over. I left mom's house when I was 19, just left/ran away...whatever. I spent almost two years sneaking in and out of this house...that's a lot of climbing in through windows, hiding under his bed, and going through hell to make sure his mom didn't know I was staying here. He gets a job in gboro, we move there, I get a job there...he loses his job, and I couldn't afford the apartment on minimum wage, so we lose the apartment, and break up for a while. We move back in with our mothers. We get back together and move in with N and A...things are tolerable for four years, he quits his job and can't find another, everything finishes going to shit with the roomies, we move here. I'm tired of starting over.
Now that I've whined, I'll go back to my mind numbing pass times until I can sleep. Sorry to have bothered anyone.