(no subject)
I don't have anyone to talk to, so I'm going to rant at my livejournal for the first time in years. It doesn't help that every time I DO have someone to talk to, I feel like they're just babying me and they never really have any input, or even anything to say at all.
I've been waiting for things to get better. Every time I get this depressed, this hopeless, this lost, I just tell myself... "It WILL get better... it HAS to... just wait it out. Do what you can to make it better, but things are bound to turn around. The effort has to go somewhere." Problem is, this time I've been waiting for months. This is the longest, worst period I've been through in as long as I can remember, possibly ever.
So far in the past six months, I've been abandoned by numerous boyfriends, Chris has lost his job and all of my faith, we've lost our home, my best friends, my only friends, even my vague acquaintances have abandoned me. I've lost my bank account, I'm plagued ten times a day by creditors that will never see a penny (my own debts as well as just as frequently the debts of previous roommates who stuck my number on the bill). We have even stooped so far as to move into Chris' mother's unfinished basement, and are still somehow always broke between his lack of serious income and my new requirement of having to eat out all the time because we do not have a kitchen, and being in such a filthy, dusty, dingy environment without walls 24/7 makes me want to hang myself from the rafters if I do not at least leave the house once in a while.
My job has gone to shit but is still scraping along, though it always does much worse when I'm this depressed, &/or when I'm not dating anyone. Chris found a new job but it sucks, and he spends every day looking for another one, which I have no faith in him getting. I've lost all the fire I had to drive our sad, bizarre little lack of relationship forward. I just can't do it anymore, but no one else will stay by my side for anything at all, even friendship. I initiate every contact with my so called friends, and otherwise they just pretend I don't exist. I feel... like a ghost. Forgotten. Invisible. Still hearing and smelling and watching the real world, but no one seems to have any idea I'm in it or feel the need to interact with me.
Chris never sees me now. He spends all his time at work at his latest roofing company telemarketing job, or asleep on a crappy sheetless mattress on our filthy basement floor, or in the main house with his real family. He even stays up there to watch tv. It's so depressing in the basement, and I'm just not comfortable spending much time in the real house, around his family that I don't think I want to be part of anymore, and he just doesn't try to do anything about it. He doesn't go anywhere with me anymore, even just out to eat, unless I pre-plan everything or guilt him into it, and even then it feels forced, or something goes wrong.
I've tried having people over, but it doesn't do much to distract me, and they always feel so very artificial and uncomfortable there, too. I realized that I don't really have any reason to stay in Georgia, but I don't really have anywhere else to go. I was going to move to Portland, but the person I was planning to base that plan off of flaked out of course. I was going to move to Indiana, but both the boys up here I'd have been making roommates or partners, respectively, are both so uncompromising and disappointing that I don't know what to do with myself.
I feel homeless, lost, and adrift. The thought of going home tears me apart, and I cannot even afford to do it right now if I wanted to. I keep locking myself in various rooms in Scott's apartment (so far the bathroom and his bedroom) and turning on something that makes noise so I can fall apart on the floor and hope he won't hear, but then somehow the corner of my brain wants him to, and the proud part won't let me let him know I'm so broken, knowing he'd have no idea what to do or how to fix it.
In the past two months alone, just trying to put myself in a better situation, I've traveled to Portland, Oregon twice only to have Justin never speak to me again after the second time (Despite it having gone excellently). I've gone to Philadelphia, PA to visit an ex who begged me to come let him sooth my worries away in only a manner in which he could, despite his pregnant girlfriend whom he was madly in love with and lived with being in Atlanta staying at his parent's house for a couple weeks. Of course I get there, he's fine the first day, then acts totally weird and alienating for the rest of the time I"m there. I finally leave in a disastrous, awful fight that made me want to drive my car off a bridge the whole 12-24 hour way home. I've gone to Indiana now technically twice, though it's only twice because I went back down to Atlanta for Halloween/Gay Pride, both of which went disastrously as well.
Now I'm in Fort Wayne, Indiana in Scott's freezing living room, after having been drug out to some horrendous karaoke bar with a girl twice my size in all the wrong places and her goofy stoner loner chubby friend, plus Scott. Of course, it's not really my scene, and I'm depressed, and cannot make myself drink when everyone at the table is downight shots, especially the driver, so I spent half the night alternating between staring at the floor, fiddling with my cell phone that no one's actually messaging me on, and pacing around outside singing the songs to myself but freezing my ass off.
After trying to get them to take us home for an hour, they finally do and we get home at 12:30am when Scott has to work the next day. I had been trying to get them to take us home since around 11pm, because I was hoping Scott and I could just have some warm, alone, cuddle time since our attempt at getting me out of the house went so fucking badly, but no, of course not. I even tell him this basically, and as soon as he gets home (and despite my I-Told-You-So's) he strips down and goes to bed immediately without a second thought.
What kind of man is this Scott, you ask? Scott Oliver is the kind of guy that should have oblivious tattooed on his forehead. He goes through life with a firm set of ideas that were ingrained in him by his parents or developed over the years that are mostly very flawed, but he has no desire to change anything about himself. He does not aspire to be a better person, or have better surroundings, ideals, actions... He's perfectly happy living alone without any idea of what a 'social meal' is, or how many personal items one really needs or should have in a one bedroom apartment, or without a single romantic bone in his body. He's not the kind of guy who will eat dinner with you. He's not even the kind of guy that would let it occur to him that he should ask you what you'd like to do for dinner. He's the kind of guy that will just come home, take off his pants and work shoes, then plop a can of beets into a pot and eat that for dinner while watching M.A.S.H. or while browsing a personals site right in front of you. He's not the kind of guy that would ever take your hand and ask you to come to bed with him. He's the kind of guy that will kiss you then wander off to bed, sometimes without even announcing that that' s where he's going, and will refuse to make any compromises in his sleeping situations to better accommodate you as a guest. No fan, no noise, only these 10 blankets on the bed that are old scratchy and falling apart, no others. He's the kind of guy that doesn't seem to care what a person looks like to fuck them, yet was so smitten over me online as a customer that I'm now shocked to find this out. He also seems to have zero sex drive (or maybe just has zero sex drive for me now that I'm here in person), but keeps telling me about the ex he used to fuck four times a day, or that time he fucked the girl twice my size Cara in a threesome with her boyfriend, or will hold up a photo of his pretty ex-girlfriend whom he's desperately trying to get to move in with him!
I'm not sure what I expected from Scott, or from Indiana, but I know it wasn't to continue to be this miserable up here, or to be in a place that I get lectured for straightening up, where meals are never a social activity or even attempted to be such, where I'm lectured for wanting to eat out somewhere, even fast food, after I've done nothing but sleep and sit there inside all day. Scott is desperately afraid of change, and likes his environment exactly the same way it was for the past many years. He gathers things people throw out and piles them in his apartment like a hoarder, and calls them 'projects'. He thinks Ghostbusters anything is the end-all-be-all of movies/belongings/Halloween costumes. The only things I can stand about this place are his kisses, his dick, his attention, and the shower, and I'm not getting nearly as much of any of those things as I'd like, much less enough to outweigh all the negative aspects of this situation. I already felt invisible, but being in such an unchanging, unaccommodating situation, it's getting much worse.
I'm really not that hard to please. I've never felt this uncomfortable in someone's home... Messy? Not a problem. Eat in a lot? That's cool. Poor? Manageable. No cable? No big deal, I have Hulu and 360 Netflix. Not want my cameras on? Don't want to be affectionate with me? Crappy, but okay. I can handle a lot of things, but being here has been unlike anything else I've ever experienced. Such simple common courtesies or social situations don't even occur to him. He's incapable of seeing outside his own little box. He has no idea why I'd want to get out of the apartment once in a while. He has no idea why I'd ever want to eat out. He has no idea why it'd be a big deal to me that he keeps turning down my cooking before even finding out what it is to just "do it simple" and order a pizza or eat a can of beets. He has no idea how to cheer me up. He has no idea that I'd go to bed with him 5 hours before I want to if only he made some kind of effort to help me wind down, or go curl up with me in the bedroom while watching tv, or at the very least, make some concerned effort to make me more comfortable in my sleeping surroundings. All Scott knows is what he wants, and he just does whatever it is that pops into his head without any concern for anyone around him at all. Occasionally if a person is far enough away, he learns to empathize over the internet or text message to try to cheer them up, but fails to really make any attempts in person. He doesn't try to avoid situations where the girl he's with already feels alienated enough, but then some big ugly girl he fucked starts to ramble all the graphic details of their sexual encounter.
Did I forget to mention that on top of having been dragged into such a horrible situation tonight at karaoke, that I also just got dumped by the only real reason I wanted to come to Indiana at all, the boy who's been stringing me along for 4+ years now? Yeah. That too.
I'm sure I have plenty more to say, but I guess there's no point. Only a tiny handful of people still even read this, and they're all just vague acquaintances at this point that cannot put enough of a dent in their normal life to acknowledge my existence more than once every few months (probably when they're bored, drunk, or have no one else to talk to).
I just needed someone to talk to... So I guess I'm just talking to myself.
I've been waiting for things to get better. Every time I get this depressed, this hopeless, this lost, I just tell myself... "It WILL get better... it HAS to... just wait it out. Do what you can to make it better, but things are bound to turn around. The effort has to go somewhere." Problem is, this time I've been waiting for months. This is the longest, worst period I've been through in as long as I can remember, possibly ever.
So far in the past six months, I've been abandoned by numerous boyfriends, Chris has lost his job and all of my faith, we've lost our home, my best friends, my only friends, even my vague acquaintances have abandoned me. I've lost my bank account, I'm plagued ten times a day by creditors that will never see a penny (my own debts as well as just as frequently the debts of previous roommates who stuck my number on the bill). We have even stooped so far as to move into Chris' mother's unfinished basement, and are still somehow always broke between his lack of serious income and my new requirement of having to eat out all the time because we do not have a kitchen, and being in such a filthy, dusty, dingy environment without walls 24/7 makes me want to hang myself from the rafters if I do not at least leave the house once in a while.
My job has gone to shit but is still scraping along, though it always does much worse when I'm this depressed, &/or when I'm not dating anyone. Chris found a new job but it sucks, and he spends every day looking for another one, which I have no faith in him getting. I've lost all the fire I had to drive our sad, bizarre little lack of relationship forward. I just can't do it anymore, but no one else will stay by my side for anything at all, even friendship. I initiate every contact with my so called friends, and otherwise they just pretend I don't exist. I feel... like a ghost. Forgotten. Invisible. Still hearing and smelling and watching the real world, but no one seems to have any idea I'm in it or feel the need to interact with me.
Chris never sees me now. He spends all his time at work at his latest roofing company telemarketing job, or asleep on a crappy sheetless mattress on our filthy basement floor, or in the main house with his real family. He even stays up there to watch tv. It's so depressing in the basement, and I'm just not comfortable spending much time in the real house, around his family that I don't think I want to be part of anymore, and he just doesn't try to do anything about it. He doesn't go anywhere with me anymore, even just out to eat, unless I pre-plan everything or guilt him into it, and even then it feels forced, or something goes wrong.
I've tried having people over, but it doesn't do much to distract me, and they always feel so very artificial and uncomfortable there, too. I realized that I don't really have any reason to stay in Georgia, but I don't really have anywhere else to go. I was going to move to Portland, but the person I was planning to base that plan off of flaked out of course. I was going to move to Indiana, but both the boys up here I'd have been making roommates or partners, respectively, are both so uncompromising and disappointing that I don't know what to do with myself.
I feel homeless, lost, and adrift. The thought of going home tears me apart, and I cannot even afford to do it right now if I wanted to. I keep locking myself in various rooms in Scott's apartment (so far the bathroom and his bedroom) and turning on something that makes noise so I can fall apart on the floor and hope he won't hear, but then somehow the corner of my brain wants him to, and the proud part won't let me let him know I'm so broken, knowing he'd have no idea what to do or how to fix it.
In the past two months alone, just trying to put myself in a better situation, I've traveled to Portland, Oregon twice only to have Justin never speak to me again after the second time (Despite it having gone excellently). I've gone to Philadelphia, PA to visit an ex who begged me to come let him sooth my worries away in only a manner in which he could, despite his pregnant girlfriend whom he was madly in love with and lived with being in Atlanta staying at his parent's house for a couple weeks. Of course I get there, he's fine the first day, then acts totally weird and alienating for the rest of the time I"m there. I finally leave in a disastrous, awful fight that made me want to drive my car off a bridge the whole 12-24 hour way home. I've gone to Indiana now technically twice, though it's only twice because I went back down to Atlanta for Halloween/Gay Pride, both of which went disastrously as well.
Now I'm in Fort Wayne, Indiana in Scott's freezing living room, after having been drug out to some horrendous karaoke bar with a girl twice my size in all the wrong places and her goofy stoner loner chubby friend, plus Scott. Of course, it's not really my scene, and I'm depressed, and cannot make myself drink when everyone at the table is downight shots, especially the driver, so I spent half the night alternating between staring at the floor, fiddling with my cell phone that no one's actually messaging me on, and pacing around outside singing the songs to myself but freezing my ass off.
After trying to get them to take us home for an hour, they finally do and we get home at 12:30am when Scott has to work the next day. I had been trying to get them to take us home since around 11pm, because I was hoping Scott and I could just have some warm, alone, cuddle time since our attempt at getting me out of the house went so fucking badly, but no, of course not. I even tell him this basically, and as soon as he gets home (and despite my I-Told-You-So's) he strips down and goes to bed immediately without a second thought.
What kind of man is this Scott, you ask? Scott Oliver is the kind of guy that should have oblivious tattooed on his forehead. He goes through life with a firm set of ideas that were ingrained in him by his parents or developed over the years that are mostly very flawed, but he has no desire to change anything about himself. He does not aspire to be a better person, or have better surroundings, ideals, actions... He's perfectly happy living alone without any idea of what a 'social meal' is, or how many personal items one really needs or should have in a one bedroom apartment, or without a single romantic bone in his body. He's not the kind of guy who will eat dinner with you. He's not even the kind of guy that would let it occur to him that he should ask you what you'd like to do for dinner. He's the kind of guy that will just come home, take off his pants and work shoes, then plop a can of beets into a pot and eat that for dinner while watching M.A.S.H. or while browsing a personals site right in front of you. He's not the kind of guy that would ever take your hand and ask you to come to bed with him. He's the kind of guy that will kiss you then wander off to bed, sometimes without even announcing that that' s where he's going, and will refuse to make any compromises in his sleeping situations to better accommodate you as a guest. No fan, no noise, only these 10 blankets on the bed that are old scratchy and falling apart, no others. He's the kind of guy that doesn't seem to care what a person looks like to fuck them, yet was so smitten over me online as a customer that I'm now shocked to find this out. He also seems to have zero sex drive (or maybe just has zero sex drive for me now that I'm here in person), but keeps telling me about the ex he used to fuck four times a day, or that time he fucked the girl twice my size Cara in a threesome with her boyfriend, or will hold up a photo of his pretty ex-girlfriend whom he's desperately trying to get to move in with him!
I'm not sure what I expected from Scott, or from Indiana, but I know it wasn't to continue to be this miserable up here, or to be in a place that I get lectured for straightening up, where meals are never a social activity or even attempted to be such, where I'm lectured for wanting to eat out somewhere, even fast food, after I've done nothing but sleep and sit there inside all day. Scott is desperately afraid of change, and likes his environment exactly the same way it was for the past many years. He gathers things people throw out and piles them in his apartment like a hoarder, and calls them 'projects'. He thinks Ghostbusters anything is the end-all-be-all of movies/belongings/Halloween costumes. The only things I can stand about this place are his kisses, his dick, his attention, and the shower, and I'm not getting nearly as much of any of those things as I'd like, much less enough to outweigh all the negative aspects of this situation. I already felt invisible, but being in such an unchanging, unaccommodating situation, it's getting much worse.
I'm really not that hard to please. I've never felt this uncomfortable in someone's home... Messy? Not a problem. Eat in a lot? That's cool. Poor? Manageable. No cable? No big deal, I have Hulu and 360 Netflix. Not want my cameras on? Don't want to be affectionate with me? Crappy, but okay. I can handle a lot of things, but being here has been unlike anything else I've ever experienced. Such simple common courtesies or social situations don't even occur to him. He's incapable of seeing outside his own little box. He has no idea why I'd want to get out of the apartment once in a while. He has no idea why I'd ever want to eat out. He has no idea why it'd be a big deal to me that he keeps turning down my cooking before even finding out what it is to just "do it simple" and order a pizza or eat a can of beets. He has no idea how to cheer me up. He has no idea that I'd go to bed with him 5 hours before I want to if only he made some kind of effort to help me wind down, or go curl up with me in the bedroom while watching tv, or at the very least, make some concerned effort to make me more comfortable in my sleeping surroundings. All Scott knows is what he wants, and he just does whatever it is that pops into his head without any concern for anyone around him at all. Occasionally if a person is far enough away, he learns to empathize over the internet or text message to try to cheer them up, but fails to really make any attempts in person. He doesn't try to avoid situations where the girl he's with already feels alienated enough, but then some big ugly girl he fucked starts to ramble all the graphic details of their sexual encounter.
Did I forget to mention that on top of having been dragged into such a horrible situation tonight at karaoke, that I also just got dumped by the only real reason I wanted to come to Indiana at all, the boy who's been stringing me along for 4+ years now? Yeah. That too.
I'm sure I have plenty more to say, but I guess there's no point. Only a tiny handful of people still even read this, and they're all just vague acquaintances at this point that cannot put enough of a dent in their normal life to acknowledge my existence more than once every few months (probably when they're bored, drunk, or have no one else to talk to).
I just needed someone to talk to... So I guess I'm just talking to myself.