Well. Three weeks after I say I'm prepping myself to get into this new situation with new people at some new church and I finally get around to giving a follow up. I went twice, missed this last time around and now I'm not even sorry. I'm angry again actually and I'm trying really hard to not direct that towards God since ya know, that's never a good sign and well it's not like you win against a god anyways.
I can't lie, it started out well. It was small and people were nice and would greet you and talk to you afterwards and I got along with them. The church itself was catering to broken people that most churches dismiss like the alcoholics or the ones from broken families who are often told "When you clean up your act come back." And in many ways I liked that because we all know how broken I feel inside.
So maybe my beef isn't with that church so I have to take that back. But I still have a beef and I'm still angry and still feel, well, forsaken. There were just some people that I kind of thought looked at me with a bit of regard and respect and I guess I was wrong. I tried really hard last week to try to set up things so I could hang out and get to know the...*people*... better, and everything was just shot down. Our schedules do a terrible job of lining up and in fact it seems they never do, but I tried to keep in contact and knew one day might be a small possibility after they finished something else so I let them know I was open and let me know when you're done.
I got nothing.
The next day was a get together that I had to miss because of work and I never got even a "was hoping to see you there" text. And days went on and nothing. Then I missed church. Once again, nothing.
I'm not trying to look demanding or needy, which is how this might sound. The point of these lost and missing text messages is that while I've instigated all the talking, I kept it open with one glimmer of hope that maybe said people would think of me for even a second and be like "where is she?" It's all about regard really, feeling even a smidgen of significance to someone else. I have that for them, that's why I would text them about trying to work something out with our busy schedules. I just don't know why I'm not even a passing thought in their minds. But maybe I just ask too much.
I don't know how to make friends now that I'm out of school and in the real world. It was so easy when you were a kid, and even a high schooler; you were always around other people so of course you made friends. They were always there. And you always found the people you had things in common with and went from there day after day, class after class, and before you knew it you had driver's licenses and were going to malls together and eating sushi and tada! You were friends. I'm not around anyone anymore. I'm really alone. I'm not exaggerating; my daily life is a lonely one. I keep thinking you're supposed to find people that you have things in common and go to the same places and start doing things with them, and I tried that. Doesn't seem to be working. But I picked people that were so social, had so many friends already, it's not a surprise I'd be pushed to the back burner and maybe even forgotten. And honestly, I knew that going in. So I'm not mad at the person, not really.
But I'm mad that this has been the story of my life for 24 years. And I've tried to stay faithful to a Christian path and Christian way of life. I've wanted to make close friends with a similar faith who understood what I was going through and who I could talk about things like God with without being judged, and ever since I was old enough to comprehend, I have hopped from place to place trying to find that and I have never gotten anything or anyone from it. Sometimes for a brief moment people would come into my life and be so excited to have met me, give me their contact information, promise that we were going to become *such* good friends, and within a month, have disappeared completely from my life. Someone even lasted a few years, but was ultimately gone without warning.
The thing is, I look to God as the director of my life, the shaper. Everything happens for a reason and I believe that and since I believe in God, He must be the one doing it. But the odds are so stacked against me with relationships, so against me. I just really thought this time was finally going to be my moment, my turning point, my revelation, my new life. I really thought I had earned it now. 24 years is a long time, it just seemed it could be right. But I guess not. I'm back to where I am. And I really want to think this means God has an even cooler thing planned out for me, but at this point, I truly believe the only plan God has for me is for me to be alone. I keep using the analogy of how many times can you get kicked down before you stay down? There are only so many ribs you can break before you can no longer get back on your feet. Mine are all broken. And God? I don't know what the hell You want from me.
I had a small breakdown moment to my dad the other night (luckily tears didn't ensue) where I revealed such feelings and concerns, and of course he had nothing to say to help me. I mean, how can anyone have any words of wisdom for something like this? It's all beyond our control and no third party can fix it for you, especially when even you can't. But I stated and threatened quite plainly to him that I've tried to keep myself a good little girl and go to the correct places for friendships, but I am now so desperate for attention, for even fake friendships, for a hug, for a touch, that I will gladly wear the lowest cut top I have and the shortest skirt I own and get myself so hammered that I will get all the attention and touching I need and I won't regret a single damn thing. And you know what? I am not lying. If there was any time for someone like oh, a god to be concerned, it would be now. Lost my way? Well seems *someone* just deserted me there with no rhyme or reason. So of course I've lost my way, I don't know where the hell I was left!
It's frustrating, it is. And I can't say I blame this religion for making my life the way it is, but I think without certain convictions that are so ingrained in me, I would have been easier off in the world. Things could have been different. I wouldn't be so alone. And that's the truth.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Missing
Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again.
Maybe someday you'll look up
And barely conscious, you'll say to no one:
Isn't something missing?
You won't cry for my absence, I know
You forgot me long ago.
Am I that unimportant?
Am I so insignificant?
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone missing me?
Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again.
I know what you do to yourself.
Breathe deep and cry out.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone missing me?
And if I bleed, I'll bleed
Knowing you don't care.
And if I sleep just to dream of you,
I'll wake without you there.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't something?
Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
Missing~ Evanescence
But I won't be home again.
Maybe someday you'll look up
And barely conscious, you'll say to no one:
Isn't something missing?
You won't cry for my absence, I know
You forgot me long ago.
Am I that unimportant?
Am I so insignificant?
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone missing me?
Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again.
I know what you do to yourself.
Breathe deep and cry out.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone missing me?
And if I bleed, I'll bleed
Knowing you don't care.
And if I sleep just to dream of you,
I'll wake without you there.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't something?
Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
Missing~ Evanescence
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Tomorrow's Prep
I'm going to a new church tomorrow. It's all new, never before seen. I have my reservations and my hesitations as always. I know they're making a big deal out of the idea that they will be the all-encompassing "welcoming" church that no one is anymore, but I'm having a hard time believing I'll see anything different than what I've always seen and I'll get the same responses that I always have, which I have to say, are quite lack luster.
It's not that there's someone there I'm trying to impress (except that there is), but I'd like to be able to be a big deal in this new church environment where this person will be schmoozing up the crowd. They're so extroverted, so energetic, so outgoing that this won't be a problem for them. But with that comes the notion that they know everyone and will talk to anyone and you know what? I can't compete on that level. I can't rely on my personality getting any job done when I'm in a church and I think we all know that. There are far too many better personalities that don't have hesitations or anxieties or problems that overshadow me (triple threat girl anyone?) and when they get together with another personality just as strong, I may as well stay home.
So I'm going with the superficial tactics. I think I've said before how much I value physical and superficial beauty and looks because that's the only time I ever feel even *slightly* desired and worth something in life. It's a hollow lie for a hollow girl living in a hollow shell. But when she can't compete with something real and true, she finds her best Betsey Johnson Victorian-bustle inspired jacket, her trendy stilettos with the adorable bows, her best pair of jeans that fits and hugs everything just right, and works it. Not just "works it," "saunters," "prowls." Prowling through a church? Why not. They don't regard me, I don't regard them. And I'm unconventional. If anyone can get away with wearing a corset in a church (which I did for my grandmother's funeral) and not looking like a tramp, it's me. I'm constantly pushing these small things, these idealistic wishes that no one can fulfill, and it's as simple as clothing. And if this clothing that doesn't belong in Hicksville, and this waist long mane of curls, and the way I can make up my face so well can get me some attention, I'm doing it. Why even try to hide it?
And I bet some will say she's trying too hard. Damn straight she is. And do you know why she is? Because you don't see her when she's not out there. Because you don't give a damn about her when she just has sneakers and jeans and a t-shirt on. Did anyone ever think when they see these people that are clearly out of control trying too hard that they might actually need help? That they might actually be hurting inside and aren't the sluts or fools that we all think they are? That these 15 year old girls are in trouble, if only in their minds? Sometimes people need someone outside of everything they've known to help them. But you know what? The people outside? They don't give a flying fuck. And that stuff inside those girls' heads that others write off as nonsense and childish? Those are the only things shaping them, the only things they know, the only things they relate to. And that makes them incredibly broken not even to their own fault.
This has veered a little. The bottom line I was getting at is simply this: Person I like and would like to become friends with at new church is a little too extroverted/energetic/all over. And so far I have seen no signs of them even having a passing thought about me in which they might shoot a text or facebook message over, unlike me who has a few times made funny quips about something they've said. It's obvious I'm not worth that much in their eyes and it's going to be more obvious tomorrow when I'm sitting in their church surrounded by their closest 600 friends. And that's why I'm making sure I look like nothing they have ever laid eyes on. I'm rocking out the superficial beauty (even if I'm not sure I even have the beauty to begin with) and the trendy clothing and the big city lifestyle because that, and only that, will make them look twice at me.
This is a fucking horrible world we live in.
It's not that there's someone there I'm trying to impress (except that there is), but I'd like to be able to be a big deal in this new church environment where this person will be schmoozing up the crowd. They're so extroverted, so energetic, so outgoing that this won't be a problem for them. But with that comes the notion that they know everyone and will talk to anyone and you know what? I can't compete on that level. I can't rely on my personality getting any job done when I'm in a church and I think we all know that. There are far too many better personalities that don't have hesitations or anxieties or problems that overshadow me (triple threat girl anyone?) and when they get together with another personality just as strong, I may as well stay home.
So I'm going with the superficial tactics. I think I've said before how much I value physical and superficial beauty and looks because that's the only time I ever feel even *slightly* desired and worth something in life. It's a hollow lie for a hollow girl living in a hollow shell. But when she can't compete with something real and true, she finds her best Betsey Johnson Victorian-bustle inspired jacket, her trendy stilettos with the adorable bows, her best pair of jeans that fits and hugs everything just right, and works it. Not just "works it," "saunters," "prowls." Prowling through a church? Why not. They don't regard me, I don't regard them. And I'm unconventional. If anyone can get away with wearing a corset in a church (which I did for my grandmother's funeral) and not looking like a tramp, it's me. I'm constantly pushing these small things, these idealistic wishes that no one can fulfill, and it's as simple as clothing. And if this clothing that doesn't belong in Hicksville, and this waist long mane of curls, and the way I can make up my face so well can get me some attention, I'm doing it. Why even try to hide it?
And I bet some will say she's trying too hard. Damn straight she is. And do you know why she is? Because you don't see her when she's not out there. Because you don't give a damn about her when she just has sneakers and jeans and a t-shirt on. Did anyone ever think when they see these people that are clearly out of control trying too hard that they might actually need help? That they might actually be hurting inside and aren't the sluts or fools that we all think they are? That these 15 year old girls are in trouble, if only in their minds? Sometimes people need someone outside of everything they've known to help them. But you know what? The people outside? They don't give a flying fuck. And that stuff inside those girls' heads that others write off as nonsense and childish? Those are the only things shaping them, the only things they know, the only things they relate to. And that makes them incredibly broken not even to their own fault.
This has veered a little. The bottom line I was getting at is simply this: Person I like and would like to become friends with at new church is a little too extroverted/energetic/all over. And so far I have seen no signs of them even having a passing thought about me in which they might shoot a text or facebook message over, unlike me who has a few times made funny quips about something they've said. It's obvious I'm not worth that much in their eyes and it's going to be more obvious tomorrow when I'm sitting in their church surrounded by their closest 600 friends. And that's why I'm making sure I look like nothing they have ever laid eyes on. I'm rocking out the superficial beauty (even if I'm not sure I even have the beauty to begin with) and the trendy clothing and the big city lifestyle because that, and only that, will make them look twice at me.
This is a fucking horrible world we live in.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Late Night Blogging
So I would really love to be asleep right now, but it's just typical of me to postpone it even when I have to get up at 6am. And then I just get mad at myself for getting only 4 hours of sleep and then driving for 2 hours and well yea. Oh well. Late night blogging is the best.
Feel like I can't even write an update because too many stuff has probably happened (even though I feel like nothing has really changed when I know things have). School got better; haven't really had any attacks since the last one I spoke of and I've enjoyed hanging out with the guys and talking movies and school with them. There's a few new people added into my life and I'm not quite sure what to do about this blog. I mean, I don't advertise but it's not the hardest thing to find. So now do I censor my crazy or just go wtf do I care? I care a little to say the least, but I mean... I feel pretty normal right now.
Well normal enough considering I do feel fairly numb. I mean, I'm not outrageously depressed or angsty or anything, but I'm not outrageously happy either. I'm just very tired. I have one week of class left and a whole bunch of video projects crashing down on me so I mean... Better I feel numb than overtly stressed or something (which I'm sure I am no doubt).
But I suppose I haven't changed. I'm learning to censor my crazy (even my crazy faith side that I hoped people in churches would understand) because it has come to the point at which I KNOW people just don't like crazy people. Mental sicknesses of any sort (depression, anorexia, asperger's, etc) are just too taboo and weird and people just don't want to know or have anything to do with it. And I suppose I can handle that, but I sometimes wonder if I have to hide it all my life am I just living a lie in the end?
Like if I actually found someone I wanted to pursue a serious relationship with would I always have to be on my best behavior? Would I have to pretend that I'm not a black and white vigilant person who only gets a temper when injustice is happening in the world? Would I have to pretend that I don't feel any panic attacks or hyperventilate when I'm in a new social situation that is absolutely terrifying? So I'd have to pretend to, well, be Kristin Chenoweth. So I'd Chenofy myself until I became someone fake and made sure not to talk about any of my inner turmoil and the fact that sometimes I may not see things correctly. Instead I see things in rainbows and unicorns and Candy Mountain and opera and Oz. And what would happen if I reverted back to a darker mindset? The times when I wasn't actually sure I could feel things physically so I'd hurt myself to see if it was possible? Then it was like I was a complete fraud. But I can't very well ever tell someone I want to love me that I can handle cuts and bruises and wounds and I completely disregard anything that could happen to me. It just won't work. But it's not like it would ever happen really.
Ok, if I go to bed now I can get 6 hours of sleep. Good enough odds for me.
Feel like I can't even write an update because too many stuff has probably happened (even though I feel like nothing has really changed when I know things have). School got better; haven't really had any attacks since the last one I spoke of and I've enjoyed hanging out with the guys and talking movies and school with them. There's a few new people added into my life and I'm not quite sure what to do about this blog. I mean, I don't advertise but it's not the hardest thing to find. So now do I censor my crazy or just go wtf do I care? I care a little to say the least, but I mean... I feel pretty normal right now.
Well normal enough considering I do feel fairly numb. I mean, I'm not outrageously depressed or angsty or anything, but I'm not outrageously happy either. I'm just very tired. I have one week of class left and a whole bunch of video projects crashing down on me so I mean... Better I feel numb than overtly stressed or something (which I'm sure I am no doubt).
But I suppose I haven't changed. I'm learning to censor my crazy (even my crazy faith side that I hoped people in churches would understand) because it has come to the point at which I KNOW people just don't like crazy people. Mental sicknesses of any sort (depression, anorexia, asperger's, etc) are just too taboo and weird and people just don't want to know or have anything to do with it. And I suppose I can handle that, but I sometimes wonder if I have to hide it all my life am I just living a lie in the end?
Like if I actually found someone I wanted to pursue a serious relationship with would I always have to be on my best behavior? Would I have to pretend that I'm not a black and white vigilant person who only gets a temper when injustice is happening in the world? Would I have to pretend that I don't feel any panic attacks or hyperventilate when I'm in a new social situation that is absolutely terrifying? So I'd have to pretend to, well, be Kristin Chenoweth. So I'd Chenofy myself until I became someone fake and made sure not to talk about any of my inner turmoil and the fact that sometimes I may not see things correctly. Instead I see things in rainbows and unicorns and Candy Mountain and opera and Oz. And what would happen if I reverted back to a darker mindset? The times when I wasn't actually sure I could feel things physically so I'd hurt myself to see if it was possible? Then it was like I was a complete fraud. But I can't very well ever tell someone I want to love me that I can handle cuts and bruises and wounds and I completely disregard anything that could happen to me. It just won't work. But it's not like it would ever happen really.
Ok, if I go to bed now I can get 6 hours of sleep. Good enough odds for me.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Mad World
"And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad.
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had."
Anyways.
After a year of doing nothing (which is actually pretty amazing to think about and not in the good way) I'm back in school once again in a program I'm still not even sure I want to be in. I keep getting told since I'm only 5 classes away from graduating I should just suck it up and stick it out and at least it'll be another thing to put on a resume along with some new skills I can use for other types of jobs. Also, in all three of my classes, I'm the only girl. In the words of Kristin Chenoweth: "It doesn't suck!"
And no, it usually doesn't. I've always liked running with the boys even if I'm a little awkward around them at first and seem to have the track record of becoming friends with them for a while and then they just cut off all contact with me (there are things I'd like to say to that that involve words with the letters f and u, but I'll actually try to keep my blog clean for once). And it's not so bad as long as I don't psych myself out and trap myself in the "useless girly girl" mentality. Which has only happened once so far. Ok, on the second day of class. Whatevs.
The place doesn't make me feel though. I don't feel much it seems. However, at work this weekend I felt a lot. The theatre is where I want to be and the environment I crave and I keep asking myself why I'm in a film program. I've always said they're similar, and they are, but that still means they're too different. All this time and money I've invested in schools and degrees that I guess got the job done (the job being that piece of paper and something to study), I never once gone after what makes me feel passion. There's just something different about the theatre community versus the film community. They're closer, stronger, selective. Any random Joe Nobody can grab a camera and film something and post it on youtube and call it art. There's just something more special about theatre that I desperately want to be included in.
The unfortunate thing is, even with all the times I've been in shows and worked shows, I've never been able to infiltrate and feel comfortable and feel like I belong. I was younger when I did the shows and I had no concept of what is wrong with me, but I know now and it still takes over. It's so crippling and it makes me sick and I've actually gotten BETTER at it. How pathetic is that? It's really pathetic. This is something I don't think I have the authority to tell myself what to do since, well, I'm screwed up. You would just think in the two months of a rehearsal span that you'd get to know everyone and be yourself and loosen up and be real. Nope, not for this girl. Dammit.
(That's a mild curse word; we'll let it slide.)
It turns out when I'm in public environments like school or work, I'm actually hurting more than when I can be alone for a day and sit in the sun or relax and read a book or watch a few movies. It's a hard concept to grasp, the idea that every breath you take actually hurts and I don't expect many, if any people to get it. I expect a lot of people trying to call me out and tell me I'm some stupid drama queen exaggerating just trying to get attention, but I don't know anyone who would want to make themselves look this weak and disgusting just for a bit of attention. There's something about being around public environments that fill me with the gloom of knowing I can't obtain what's around me. I can't obtain connections with people because my anxiety blocks me from talking to them, and if I try, my mind goes blank and I can't say anything anyway. My body locks up even and I can't move. And that's when I start feeling worthless and useless and run to the bathroom and start punching walls just so I don't cry. If this happens just in a class atmosphere, how did I ever think I could have an intimate relationship with another human being? What made me think I got the privilege to share any part of my life with an "other half?"
It's ok though, I'm used to these feelings. I'm used to the bruised and broken knuckles. I'm used to the scrapes and scratches and cuts. I like them. They're home. This is just high school all over again except I'm even more on my own than I was then. I don't have my two other best friends to get me through anything, I'm on my own. I'm on my own everywhere. And I can't imagine it any other way.
By the way, the above lyric is to "Mad World" by REM.
I find it kind of sad.
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had."
Anyways.
After a year of doing nothing (which is actually pretty amazing to think about and not in the good way) I'm back in school once again in a program I'm still not even sure I want to be in. I keep getting told since I'm only 5 classes away from graduating I should just suck it up and stick it out and at least it'll be another thing to put on a resume along with some new skills I can use for other types of jobs. Also, in all three of my classes, I'm the only girl. In the words of Kristin Chenoweth: "It doesn't suck!"
And no, it usually doesn't. I've always liked running with the boys even if I'm a little awkward around them at first and seem to have the track record of becoming friends with them for a while and then they just cut off all contact with me (there are things I'd like to say to that that involve words with the letters f and u, but I'll actually try to keep my blog clean for once). And it's not so bad as long as I don't psych myself out and trap myself in the "useless girly girl" mentality. Which has only happened once so far. Ok, on the second day of class. Whatevs.
The place doesn't make me feel though. I don't feel much it seems. However, at work this weekend I felt a lot. The theatre is where I want to be and the environment I crave and I keep asking myself why I'm in a film program. I've always said they're similar, and they are, but that still means they're too different. All this time and money I've invested in schools and degrees that I guess got the job done (the job being that piece of paper and something to study), I never once gone after what makes me feel passion. There's just something different about the theatre community versus the film community. They're closer, stronger, selective. Any random Joe Nobody can grab a camera and film something and post it on youtube and call it art. There's just something more special about theatre that I desperately want to be included in.
The unfortunate thing is, even with all the times I've been in shows and worked shows, I've never been able to infiltrate and feel comfortable and feel like I belong. I was younger when I did the shows and I had no concept of what is wrong with me, but I know now and it still takes over. It's so crippling and it makes me sick and I've actually gotten BETTER at it. How pathetic is that? It's really pathetic. This is something I don't think I have the authority to tell myself what to do since, well, I'm screwed up. You would just think in the two months of a rehearsal span that you'd get to know everyone and be yourself and loosen up and be real. Nope, not for this girl. Dammit.
(That's a mild curse word; we'll let it slide.)
It turns out when I'm in public environments like school or work, I'm actually hurting more than when I can be alone for a day and sit in the sun or relax and read a book or watch a few movies. It's a hard concept to grasp, the idea that every breath you take actually hurts and I don't expect many, if any people to get it. I expect a lot of people trying to call me out and tell me I'm some stupid drama queen exaggerating just trying to get attention, but I don't know anyone who would want to make themselves look this weak and disgusting just for a bit of attention. There's something about being around public environments that fill me with the gloom of knowing I can't obtain what's around me. I can't obtain connections with people because my anxiety blocks me from talking to them, and if I try, my mind goes blank and I can't say anything anyway. My body locks up even and I can't move. And that's when I start feeling worthless and useless and run to the bathroom and start punching walls just so I don't cry. If this happens just in a class atmosphere, how did I ever think I could have an intimate relationship with another human being? What made me think I got the privilege to share any part of my life with an "other half?"
It's ok though, I'm used to these feelings. I'm used to the bruised and broken knuckles. I'm used to the scrapes and scratches and cuts. I like them. They're home. This is just high school all over again except I'm even more on my own than I was then. I don't have my two other best friends to get me through anything, I'm on my own. I'm on my own everywhere. And I can't imagine it any other way.
By the way, the above lyric is to "Mad World" by REM.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Why Do You Think I Sleep All Day?
All right, all right. I'm here. New blog intro, so I can start this up again. K cool.
First off, I apologize for the last post. Makes me look like some idiot high school girl being passive aggressive about her boyfriend (and let's face it, people only wish). Not good to stoop to such low levels. But it is a good song though, so I digress.
I've come to the conclusion that I only attract slobs or socially dysfunctional men. Serious bummer. I can't do anything with either, and I really can't do anything with someone who looks at me and then twitches and stares blankly at me with nothing to say and then when he does say something, it's so quiet I can't even hear him. Then I get all awkward and just start telling stories about my dogs. If someone doesn't engage with me, I become disinterested. And because I'm not quick enough on my feet being shy and having something in my brain that's fucked up, I can't do well with getting any substance going in a conversation. Not having anything to talk about and engage with is probably the worst thing that can happen. And I get stuck with the winners. Well fuck this life.
I'm also beginning to think this idea of "waiting to have sex before marriage" is only used by the same guys who twitch uncontrollably at the sight of the opposite sex and who would need google maps to tell them where the breasts are on a woman. It's probably easier to just play the celibate card when you've never even held hands, let alone hugged someone. Heaven forbid you ever try to do anything else; you'll need google maps for that too. And luckily I'm pretty sure there is a "sex for dummies" book.
But you know what? I'm not even looking for sex. I never have been. But at least knowing the guy knows his way around a woman's body would be nice. I wouldn't mind some physical contact, not at all. Groping, fingering, fondling, etc doesn't need to be involved. There are plenty of small gestures that will do the trick for me. But I'm not going to get it with any of these pussy wussy twitchy dysfunctional overanalytical freaks who practically need their mommy to be there to tell them how to put their arm around a girl. I'm tired. I'm just so tired.
Meh. I still can't believe I've actually resorted to admitting that I actually want to find a relationship. That was such a no-no not too long ago. But what the hell am I going to do about it? It plagues me, haunts ever facet of my life. And I'm pretty sure it isn't even geared towards a "significant other" relationship. Any steadfast friendship would just be so nice. I feel forsaken by so many, and I never had that many to begin with.
Which brings me to the title of this post. I'll try to keep this short. The other day I went to the wedding of my mom's cousin's daughter. So my... I don't know, something in the family. She's pretty much everything I've ever wanted to be, the complete triple threat girl. She seriously could be Kristin Chenoweth if she dyed her hair blond and put in green contacts. She may as well be Kristin. Everything about her is exactly the same: Short, small, petite, big personality, bigger smile, singer, Christian, oh yea. Snagged herself a great guy as someone like her would. Being that her dad is a pastor, she seemed to get instilled correctly with the best of the best in church and therefore got her guy accordingly. And the wedding was a bit uncoventional and avant-garde, but that's what they're into and so it turned out to be awesome and quirky and her dress was awesome and quirky and essentially everything I like because I've always liked that style before I knew her.
So all the friends and that side of the family were the type As, over the top, epic cheery personality who knew everyone and looked like beauty pageant contestants squealing with each other, and I was just there. I didn't care that much at the time; I only went last minute with my parents for the food. But the longer I stayed there and absorbed the environment, the more the situation began to wear on me. First off, I would hate getting married because I don't want to be standing in front of everyone and knowing they're looking at me. I couldn't even do THAT. Second off, I had always hoped to stay true to my faith, but all the Christian guys I know at age 24 are already married.
Sad fact (ok fact in my head): In the church, if you are 24 and still unmarried, you are a spinster. I'm not talking about just mormonism here, it's just how the church is. Which I've always correlated to the poor saps trying to be all chaste and to "save" themselves. And which as we all know, 24 years is an awful long time for a guy to hold off. He's damn lucky if he can make it to 18. It's perfectly acceptable in normal society to be 24 and single and free falling and flitting, but in the church society, there is something wrong with you. All the good ones get snatched up fast, and if you're fucked up like me and mentally handicapped, you can't compete and you don't get anything. And that tears me in half.
Am I supposed to turn away from the church? Is that what I'm getting here? There is this easy lifestyle sitting in front of me. One that has less judgement attached to it. In a bar, everyone is accepted. In a church, if you're not already established in a group, you're not even noticed. I've talked to a lot of Christians about this, of all ages might I add, and they've all said that exact same thing. What is the point? What was God thinking giving us this....Choice? This freewill to be assholes? And what was He thinking to give me this damage that kills me? I've been increasingly angry lately. Like, really angry, and it's just another side effect of this build up.
Anyways, so after the wedding and we're walking back to the car, I was mentioning the whole thing about how this can never happen to me and that I'm too old in the church now and a few other things. And my dad says "I have a feeling things are going to start changing for you" and I blow it off. Can't even acknowledge something like that because I don't believe even a shred of it. In which I tell him and that where I am, it's just too small and no one with my interest, let alone someone in a church with my interest and he says something along the lines of "Well go out and do something. All you do is sleep all day." My only response:
And why do you think I sleep all day.
It's not rocket science. It's the only escape I have. It's all I have.
First off, I apologize for the last post. Makes me look like some idiot high school girl being passive aggressive about her boyfriend (and let's face it, people only wish). Not good to stoop to such low levels. But it is a good song though, so I digress.
I've come to the conclusion that I only attract slobs or socially dysfunctional men. Serious bummer. I can't do anything with either, and I really can't do anything with someone who looks at me and then twitches and stares blankly at me with nothing to say and then when he does say something, it's so quiet I can't even hear him. Then I get all awkward and just start telling stories about my dogs. If someone doesn't engage with me, I become disinterested. And because I'm not quick enough on my feet being shy and having something in my brain that's fucked up, I can't do well with getting any substance going in a conversation. Not having anything to talk about and engage with is probably the worst thing that can happen. And I get stuck with the winners. Well fuck this life.
I'm also beginning to think this idea of "waiting to have sex before marriage" is only used by the same guys who twitch uncontrollably at the sight of the opposite sex and who would need google maps to tell them where the breasts are on a woman. It's probably easier to just play the celibate card when you've never even held hands, let alone hugged someone. Heaven forbid you ever try to do anything else; you'll need google maps for that too. And luckily I'm pretty sure there is a "sex for dummies" book.
But you know what? I'm not even looking for sex. I never have been. But at least knowing the guy knows his way around a woman's body would be nice. I wouldn't mind some physical contact, not at all. Groping, fingering, fondling, etc doesn't need to be involved. There are plenty of small gestures that will do the trick for me. But I'm not going to get it with any of these pussy wussy twitchy dysfunctional overanalytical freaks who practically need their mommy to be there to tell them how to put their arm around a girl. I'm tired. I'm just so tired.
Meh. I still can't believe I've actually resorted to admitting that I actually want to find a relationship. That was such a no-no not too long ago. But what the hell am I going to do about it? It plagues me, haunts ever facet of my life. And I'm pretty sure it isn't even geared towards a "significant other" relationship. Any steadfast friendship would just be so nice. I feel forsaken by so many, and I never had that many to begin with.
Which brings me to the title of this post. I'll try to keep this short. The other day I went to the wedding of my mom's cousin's daughter. So my... I don't know, something in the family. She's pretty much everything I've ever wanted to be, the complete triple threat girl. She seriously could be Kristin Chenoweth if she dyed her hair blond and put in green contacts. She may as well be Kristin. Everything about her is exactly the same: Short, small, petite, big personality, bigger smile, singer, Christian, oh yea. Snagged herself a great guy as someone like her would. Being that her dad is a pastor, she seemed to get instilled correctly with the best of the best in church and therefore got her guy accordingly. And the wedding was a bit uncoventional and avant-garde, but that's what they're into and so it turned out to be awesome and quirky and her dress was awesome and quirky and essentially everything I like because I've always liked that style before I knew her.
So all the friends and that side of the family were the type As, over the top, epic cheery personality who knew everyone and looked like beauty pageant contestants squealing with each other, and I was just there. I didn't care that much at the time; I only went last minute with my parents for the food. But the longer I stayed there and absorbed the environment, the more the situation began to wear on me. First off, I would hate getting married because I don't want to be standing in front of everyone and knowing they're looking at me. I couldn't even do THAT. Second off, I had always hoped to stay true to my faith, but all the Christian guys I know at age 24 are already married.
Sad fact (ok fact in my head): In the church, if you are 24 and still unmarried, you are a spinster. I'm not talking about just mormonism here, it's just how the church is. Which I've always correlated to the poor saps trying to be all chaste and to "save" themselves. And which as we all know, 24 years is an awful long time for a guy to hold off. He's damn lucky if he can make it to 18. It's perfectly acceptable in normal society to be 24 and single and free falling and flitting, but in the church society, there is something wrong with you. All the good ones get snatched up fast, and if you're fucked up like me and mentally handicapped, you can't compete and you don't get anything. And that tears me in half.
Am I supposed to turn away from the church? Is that what I'm getting here? There is this easy lifestyle sitting in front of me. One that has less judgement attached to it. In a bar, everyone is accepted. In a church, if you're not already established in a group, you're not even noticed. I've talked to a lot of Christians about this, of all ages might I add, and they've all said that exact same thing. What is the point? What was God thinking giving us this....Choice? This freewill to be assholes? And what was He thinking to give me this damage that kills me? I've been increasingly angry lately. Like, really angry, and it's just another side effect of this build up.
Anyways, so after the wedding and we're walking back to the car, I was mentioning the whole thing about how this can never happen to me and that I'm too old in the church now and a few other things. And my dad says "I have a feeling things are going to start changing for you" and I blow it off. Can't even acknowledge something like that because I don't believe even a shred of it. In which I tell him and that where I am, it's just too small and no one with my interest, let alone someone in a church with my interest and he says something along the lines of "Well go out and do something. All you do is sleep all day." My only response:
And why do you think I sleep all day.
It's not rocket science. It's the only escape I have. It's all I have.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Love, Love...
Love love love love.
You were everything I wanted
You were everything a guy could be.
But you left me broken hearted
Now you don't mean a thing to me.
All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love
Hate is a strong word
But I really really really don't like you.
Now that it's over,
I don't even know what I liked about you.
I brought you around,
And you just brought me down.
Hate is a strong word.
But I really really really
Don't like you.
Thought that everything was perfect
Isn't that how it's supposed to be?
Thought you thought that I was worth it
Now I think a little differently.
All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love
Hate is a strong word,
But I really really don't like you.
Now that it's over
I don't even know what I liked about you.
I brought you around,
And you just brought me down.
Hate is a strong word.
But I really really really
Don't like you.
Now that it's over you can't hurt me.
Now that it's over you can't bring me down.
All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love.
~Hate (I Really Don't Like You), Plain White Ts
You were everything I wanted
You were everything a guy could be.
But you left me broken hearted
Now you don't mean a thing to me.
All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love
Hate is a strong word
But I really really really don't like you.
Now that it's over,
I don't even know what I liked about you.
I brought you around,
And you just brought me down.
Hate is a strong word.
But I really really really
Don't like you.
Thought that everything was perfect
Isn't that how it's supposed to be?
Thought you thought that I was worth it
Now I think a little differently.
All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love
Hate is a strong word,
But I really really don't like you.
Now that it's over
I don't even know what I liked about you.
I brought you around,
And you just brought me down.
Hate is a strong word.
But I really really really
Don't like you.
Now that it's over you can't hurt me.
Now that it's over you can't bring me down.
All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love.
~Hate (I Really Don't Like You), Plain White Ts
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