Chilling Out

So, I've officially hit every level of crazy, haven't I? Some people aren't talking to me anymore and I have a feeling it is a pretty direct result of this blog. Let me just say I don't have anyone in the real world that I can talk to about these fucked up feelings, so I turn to this partially-anonymous blog for solace. While others use the fully-anonymous viewing to steer clear away from me in the real world. Ah well.

It's funny though. For how little I talk about my private life and self in person, I sure let every little detail spill on this blog. I'm a walking contradiction.

But I'm going to try to chill out. Make my crazy go away. Ok, it won't actually go away but hopefully that intense angst fueled fire has gone out. I'll be changing the title of this thing soon. I think it's obvious now I have some sort of mental personality disorder and since I'm apparently not going to do anything to fix it, there's no reason to have this thing structured the way it is. It was once going to be about self-help, but instead it turned into a sniveling hot bed of whining and self victimizing. I'll probably change it to something along the lines of my struggles with my faith, my life, and my April Rhodes complex.

This was my proof, by the way, that no one likes a person with a mental disorder of any sort. People have always said if a person really cares about you, your downfall doesn't matter, even if it's self-loathing or self-infliction or anorexia or aspergers or borderline personality disorder. It's just not true. The people like me? The ones who were created broken or with missing parts? We're on our own. Best we can do is hide our truth, self medicate what we need, and just pray to God that we don't let our masks slip for one millisecond when we're out in the real world.

So. I'll chill. Sorry for the inconvenience of making you uncomfortable.

Good Friday

I have 15 minutes before I leave for work. I'll type fast.

Why do people celebrate Good Friday? Yea yea Jesus died for our sins praise Him. All good and well, except one problem: Jesus was MURDERED on this day. He was MURDERED for a species that DID NOT deserve the sacrifice He made. Which is why they all fall on their knees and scream "praise him." They damn well better! As far as I'm concerned they and we all should be in hell right now. And I wish we all were.

I'm not having a good day, can you tell? I'm going to a job where a pervert stalker of a 60 year old man keeps seeking me out to "talk" to me and "be nice" by trying to give me back rubs. And I'm supposed to stay in that environment for about 12 hours today. Not joking the time. Really not joking. And to top off the icing of an already 27 tiered cake, my grandma is pretty much on her death bed. So dehydrated that her kidney isn't working. She's not going to the hospital because if they pump fluid in her and her kidney still refuses to work, fluid will just collect in her body in places that aren't good. I hear she's comfortable, but I'm not. I'm not happy.

I am so angry at the world. So so so angry. I've never been this angry. I keep having Ally McBeal moments where I'm ripping heads off people that appear in front of me or screaming and having fire coming out of my mouth. Or throwing a punch and my had suddenly becomes a lion claw and I just tear through all the people I'm mad at. This is just ridiculous.

Should I be working a 12+ hour shift when I don't know how much longer my grandma has? The only reason is my dumbass employers don't keep enough people employed and I'm pretty much responsible for this entire damn day. Well, what if things come up, hm? Guess what, THEY DID! I hate you I hate you I hate you!

The end.

Where Is My Mind?

I apologize for any typos. I do not condone blogging after drinking a bit of alcohol. And I'm sorry in advance.

Seriously, I am.

I've had very few moments where the depressant of alcohol actually has kicked in. But I think this is one of those moments.

I don't condone this. Honestly, I don't. And I think it's ok that one should hate a person like me who thinks getting drunk is the only answer to one's problems. I'm totally ok with that. It's ok ya'll. It's ok. It's really ok.

And honestly, I don't know why I'm writing right now. Maybe because I couldn't find a pen to write this on a standard notebook that would ever get out to the real world. It probably would've been safer. But I've had a few drinks and I just can't muster going on a search for something like a pen in an unfamiliar home.

I seem to only bond with certain people when I'm drinking. And I'm actually not necessarily ok with that. However, it's a norm and therefore something I actually enjoy because it's become the norm. And I enjoy feeling off kilter in the world. Oftentimes I'm so centered and so strong and so undefied (not a word) that it seems like I have no weakness and no problem in the world. But I do. Oh I do.

And I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow. It's already after 3 am and I'm apparently wide awake. Turns out I'm very good at bowling and frisbee golf on the Wii when I'm like this. But turns out I get tired of being around yet another couple. No, it's fine. It really is. They're married and they deserve each other and they should reap their benefits just fine. And I'm fine with that. But.

Who the hell am I? Who am I to come waltzing into this household once a month pretending I'm worth such a great friendship when really I've had an incredibly rocky relationship with this guy since I've known him and when this girl has moved on with her life and actually made progress? Who the hell do I think I am? Really? Who?

The truth is, except for one childhood friend who lives 5 states away, all my friends have become married couples and living some happy life. I've really enjoyed being single and doing what I thought was fun. But now, I don't even know what the hell I'm doing in life. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I feel. I know I've fucked it up. I just have that feeling. But as I was sitting in their living room in the pitch black all alone (give or take a cat or two), I just realized how hopeless I really was. I realized so much I've been denying and pretending didn't exist. But the annoying thing is just cause you pretend it doesn't exist doesn't mean it's not there.

Fact of the matter is, I don't know how to do dating or relationships. My dad was right. I meet one person one time and then I try to avoid them after that. I chalk it up to not having the "connection" there, but who the hell am I kidding? I wouldn't know what that connection was if it bit me in the ass. If it's not a drunken one night stand in which I give a fake name and walk away the next day never to return, I can't do it. You know how pathetic that is by the way? It's really pathetic. Really low. I'm just so... Low.

I also can't feel my teeth at this point. I think that's my favorite reason I like to drink. I can't feel anything. No doubt I'll wake up with bite marks and bruises and scratches tomorrow only because I wanted to test just how little I felt. It's not a big deal. Or rather, I don't think it is. I'm used to self destructive behavior, so a little bruise with teeth marks is really not a problem.

But I know there's a problem when I try so damn hard not to feel and I go out of my way to drink the highest proof alcohol I can find. I'm getting too tolerant of this stuff and I suppose that can't be good. But I really, really, like not feeling physical things. And I really like knowing I become more talkative. Especially around people I don't know how to talk to if I'm sober. I honestly don't see why it is such a crime to lubricate your interpersonal skills when you're so deathly afraid of other people as I am. This seems to be the same thing as anti-depressants. So what the hell is the big deal? I know my limits. I think.

I'm frustrated. I got my old job back at a theatre and actually felt like I had a purpose in life again. I was loving everything that was happening. Then I drove down south to spend time with friends and suddenly I got bitch slapped in the face by some sort of reality or actuality I would have preferred not to know about. Honestly, I'm just mad at myself. I probably should have never started drinking. But I value that so much. I've never valued real life and it's probably shown. I just hate it. I don't see why a person with a Christian faith or conviction needs to live on this earth or with this human life. The Bible always talks about how we belong beside our Father, God, in Heaven. So why the hell do I even need to be here? It's better I escape for the time being until I can finally die isn't it? This mortal life isn't important; eternity beside my Father is. Isn't it? I feel worthless here. I have a feeling I wouldn't feel that way if I was in Heaven. Or so I hope.

By the way, this blog title is another song from the Sucker Punch soundtrack in case you were wondering. You should look it up; it's beautiful. It shouldn't be any surprise that all I've listened to lately were songs from that soundtrack. It's just that that movie is the best escapism movie I've seen in a long time and the songs really reflect that.

And I guess with that I've lost purpose of this entry. Guess I just needed to get something out. But now I want to go to sleep and maybe pretend this never happened. Never works though. I always remember everything.

Asleep

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I'm tired and I want to go to bed
Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
And then leave me alone

Don't try to wake me in the morning
Cuz I will be gone
Don't feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart,
I will feel so glad to go

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I don't want to wake up
On my own anymore
Sing to me
Sing to me
I don't want to wake up
On my own anymore

Don't feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart,
I really want to go

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep

There is another world
There is a better world
Well there must be
There must be

There is another world


~Asleep~Emily Browning cover~Sucker Punch soundtrack.

This is all I want.

The Truth of the Matter

The truth of the matter is...

~Now that I've been so isolated from everyday society, I am more dysfunctional than ever and scared out of my mind.
~I've come to the conclusion that it's a lot easier to go to a bar to find a random hookup for the night, complete the transaction, and then be on your way the next day without ever needing to worry about the person again.
~I only say that because I've realized that I don't know how to have a decent, intimate relationship with a person that isn't strictly physical in some way. I'm afraid to talk about feelings, I'm afraid to say sincere things, and I don't have the interpersonal communication ability to even evoke that I'm interested enough in a person to go out for coffee. To top it off I'm as suspicious as hell of everyone I see.
~I'm learning I get entirely too uncomfortable when I'm in a public place and I see people looking at me. I react viscerally. And not in a good way.
~I have always insulted, battered, and mocked marriage for the sole reason I don't believe I can ever get married. People don't like crazy people. No one would want to be around this.
~Same goes with kids. I refuse to have children. These genes will go no further after me. No child deserves that.
~I am incredibly reliant on alcohol. I think about it a lot. I think about how the next time I can hang with friends where we can drink how much fun I'm going to have and how much more happy and conversational I'll be.
~I spent 10 minutes today comparing my arms to the arms of a Macy's male mannequin. I wanted to see if their ideal male figure was still bigger than my figure. I don't like the idea of being bigger than men.
~My parents have been badgering me to do something with my life. I sit silent because the only thing I want to do is scream at them "I want to die."
~I wear a lot of makeup to compensate for everything that's wrong with me on the inside. Ironically, it's probably the reason people look at me. So I'm really not doing myself any favors.
~I sleep 12+ hours a day because my dreams are so much better than my reality. I really am loving them and I can't wait to get back to them.
~I've weakened myself down so much that sometimes I feel like I can barely breathe. My reality is a desolate one, but it is the truth of me.
~My family is falling apart around me, so I'm trying to pretend there's nothing wrong with me. Between my aunt losing her job, my cousin getting a partially collapsed lung, and my grandma in the hospital from respiratory failure, my family has enough to worry about let alone some whining from some stupid pathetic suicidal psychopath of a girl.
~I really thought this would end in high school. I really just thought I was going through the usual "teenage angst" phase and that by the time I was grown up, I'd be fine and normal and stable with a lot of friends and relationships, a good attitude, healthy weight, and career. I never took into consideration that a personality disorder affects you as long as you live. But I never knew I had one.
~I keep thinking a lot about hurting myself. I know though if I'm going to do it, I better do it now. Scars last at least 2 months and soon it's gonna be too warm to wear long sleeves all the time.
~I get really freaked out when I know people have been talking about me or thinking about me or taking me into consideration for something. It just feels weird. I live with the mentality that the 7 billion people on this world don't give a damn about you so I just assume literally no one does, friends or otherwise.
~I just don't understand why I can't find true peace in my faith. After my "entity touching me" incident, I haven't had anymore incidents, and only a few possession dreams that weren't as intense before, but I'm not any happier. And I don't want to whine to God about my problems, so I guess I don't talk to him as much as I have in the past. I mean seriously, can you say self-centered? God doesn't need that.

And the truth of the matter is...

Moot.