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It's not an open relationship. It's a casual relationship.

CASUAL. That word. It just came to me, while I tossed and turned last night. And oh, do I feel that much better for being able to properly label something!

Since yesterday I pretty much left things with B as "I don't know what to say to you, I'm going home," I sent him a text this morning saying I wasn't mad at him and he should come over if he actually wanted to keep talking about this. And he did, and I made breakfast, and we ate and made coffee and stuff, and sat by the windows and chilled out, and I think B may have been a little wary that I might fly off the handle all of a sudden or something.

I explained to him about the letter from my mom about tax shit, and showed it to him, and he read it and told me it sounded pretty sincere to him, like she really does miss me, etc, but was kind of reluctant to say much else being that he's never met her and I don't talk about my parents, pretty much ever.

And we had a long and leisurely conversation with lots of Q&A-ing and hypothetical situations and whatever )

Anyway, I guess we've mostly worked things out. This is not an open relationship but it is not officially exclusive either. It's casual. And that feels okay to me.
exhilaration: (Rose close-up)
This is my "good things only" contribution for today. Love that painting and love that artist.

This is what's really been going on. )

EDIT Ok fine, so that picture is no longer there... read about and view JMW Turner's work here and tell me how strangely compelling his work is...
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Band Aid: Musicians getting together and recording a song about world hunger is about as effective as putting a bandaid over a gaping wound.



The song was recorded in 1984, same year I was born.

A short explanation of what connection Lara has to Africa anyway )

So where's the "posting only good things" in this post?

Well. I did do good things while I was there. I can hold on to that, although, it does have the feeling of a bandaid. So does buying product RED everything - I'll only pick up Starbucks if it's RED, etc. But I've recently done a lot of comparing my perspectives now to my perspectives as a teenager - I'm about to turn twenty five, and that has a lot to do with it, I'm sure - and I've realized that while I still feel that first-world guilt, I don't feel the same guilt related to depression, like how dare I?

It's a chemical imbalance. I can't just will it away by telling myself how lucky I am to be born in a first world country. It doesn't make me an ungrateful person or a spoiled person or a bad person. It's taken me a very long time to actually come to an understanding with myself about that.

But I think I have, and that's my "good thing" of the day.
exhilaration: (Rose walking away)
I've had so very few relationships in my life I've gotten any type of closure to. Romantic, familial, friendship - any kind. Most have gone awry. Most have been left completely unresolved.

Krissy is different. She's a different kind of person from anyone I've ever met. So I shouldn't be surprised that a breakup with Krissy would be different from anything else I've ever experienced.

I think she was right. I think we really did need to talk about things. I feel really lucky that I have an ex that not only wants to be civil but actually discuss the ups and downs of the relationship.

Krissy is not someone who's gotten so fed up and frustrated with me that she's declared, "ugh, no more of you, I just can't stand it anymore, you're no longer in my life." She does still care about me. She wonders about me, worries about me, and doesn't keep that a secret. If she's wondering, she contacts me. There's no ban on communication with us. If she's worrying, she asks me. There's no ban on compassion, either.

When Krissy met me she saw me as very immature. She assumed that I would "grow out of" certain personality traits as I got older. I can only surmise, from that statement, that upon meeting/dating me, she fully intended to be around me as I continued to get older. And she was. She's four years older than I am. When we met we were both in school, but she was just starting med school and I was just dropping out of school (again.) I think (and she says this too) that she saw me as someone she could "fix." That didn't really work out. I guess everyone changes and everyone grows up, but... that doesn't equal "fixed."

She's the kind of person who comes on very strong, and just kind of assumes people will fall under her direction without questioning it. I don't take direction very well, especially not by someone I consider a peer, but from her, it seemed different. I didn't quite see her as a peer, for one thing, since she's so much older than I am. That was a major issue. No doubt about that. A lot of my problems with the relationship stemmed from that one issue.

Because she's older than I am, I trusted/never questioned certain declarations of hers. That was a mistake. "Because I said so" mentality is for a parent and a child, not for two adults. It was always "Krissy wants this, Krissy says that, Krissy likes this, Krissy doesn't want to do that." There was nothing stopping me from speaking up, except that I for some reason was assuming she was always right by default. She, being a very controlling and opinionated person, never realized how off balance things were until after we broke up and she started dating someone else, who actually gave their own opinion and preferences and argued with her and stuff.

We had such good times. I was really, genuinely happy with her, especially in the beginning. I was walking on air. It was incredible. It was incredible every time I sat back and observed, hey, this is real, this is the real deal, she's for real. But people fall into patterns after a while, that are just so hard to break. Could we do it? Could we really have a healthy, balanced relationship? Maybe we could. Is it worth trying, though? The effort, the heartbreak, all of it?

I don't know, honestly. We "decided" it wasn't. Maybe that's just a cop out. Maybe I'm a little scared of a relationship that serious with such permanent intentions (or, more permanent than I've ever experienced, anyway.) Maybe the idea of uprooting both of our lives for a relationship that already failed twice scares us both.

But the whole "we can still be friends" thing, I know it's so over used and I know it's such a deception, but, being that Krissy isn't like anyone else, I think we are still friends. Of sorts. I think.
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1. I want for no one in the world to take more than they need when those around them do not have enough.

2. I want for everyone in the world to have the ability and the will to imagine themselves in the shoes of another.

3. I want to know that love really can mean everything and solve anything.

I don't ask for much, do I?

The holidays have never been easy for me. When I was a kid I would get excited, and I'd imagine this wonderful day, but in reality it was often spent steeping in stress and doubting intentions. My parents, although they share a household, are not married, and it was never a guarantee that I'd have both parents home for Christmas. My dad has another family besides us, and it is entirely possible that he has a third as well. I have older half-siblings I've never met, and I've recently begin to suspect I've got younger ones besides.

The older I got the harder it was to rely on the "spirit of the season" to make it the happy occasion it was supposed to be. I was happiest not celebrating at all; just eating Chinese with my best friend, drinking, at watching movies all day long. In recent years, I've been alone for the holidays, and that's been the worst.

I find the Christmas Spirit to be really trying, especially this year since I've got a job in retail. The "spend spend spend" mentality makes me feel ill, and the materialism of it all is so counter to the way I was raised.

My birthday is in mid-January, and I'm not a big fan of my birthday either. It tends to get passed over since it's so close to the holidays, and besides that, I don't have great associations with the anniversary of my birth anyway. And, to top it all off, I'm turning twenty-five this year. I'd rather be young forever, or, if I can't have that, I'd have liked to have actually accomplished something worthwhile with my life by the time I hit the quarter century mark.

And even with all this, I can't help but feel I have no business even calling these facts "problems." And I don't, of course. I have even less of an excuse than the average American, because I've seen the third world rather than just read about it or heard about it mentioned somewhere by someone.

"Peace on earth; goodwill towards men." We sure could use some of that. Prop 8. Mumbai. The cholera in Zimbabwe, the pirates in Somalia, and then of course the people starving to death in my very own first world country, children without access to health care dying from easily curable illnesses, in my very own first world country.

And it's right around this time of year, too, that I'm always reminded that love doesn't fix a thing. It doesn't fix a single thing.
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I wasn't going to go to my aunt and uncle's for the holiday unless some of my cousins (besides the youngest one) would be home. They weren't going to be, so I was just going to stay home. My aunt and uncle aren't my parents and I'm not their kid and I don't get along that well with my youngest cousin and I'm still kind of mad that they knew I was here last year and alone and didn't invite me over or help me out in any way, not just for the holiday but pretty much ever.

Well, yesterday I called my Aunt Jen and asked her if I could bring a friend if I came, and she said that was okay. So... this is with the friend being Krissy, of course. I think the fact that she actually called me and asked if we could get together made me feel kind of bad for her, and, besides that, I miss her. I've missed her this whole time I've been away from her.

Cut because I have a whole lot to say. It's been a day like that. )

Krissy, against my better judgement, has gone back to Philly. She's got to be exhausted, but she said it would be easier for her to get the drive over with now and she said she'd try to sleep when she got back before her next shift. I hope she gets home without a problem.

I would really like it if she could be my friend. I've really missed her - I really miss being around people I'm close to, people who know me the way you can only know someone if you've been around them for years. But... I don't really think we can be friends without making it complicated. I, CLEARLY, have no idea how to just be friends with someone I'm close to. OBVIOUSLY. And that hasn't turned out so well for me so far.

Well, tomorrow is my first day of work at my new holiday job, and then a whole night of work at the restaurant. It'll be a blast. I'm sure.
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Erica did take my pills, because this afternoon she presented me with four "replacement" pills. She said she didn't take them, but didn't want me to be mad anymore so she "got me more."

And wouldn't you know that I, like a pathetic junkie, practically drooled when I saw what they were. (They were not what I'm currently taking)

Which of course scared the shit out of me.

People have these attitudes, about drugs and credit cards, that they're evil. Drugs are evil, credit cards are evil (etc) and I have ALWAYS, ALWAYS insisted this is bullshit. Drugs aren't any evil-er than credit cards. Yes, you can land it a lot of trouble related to them, but it's always your own actions that cause the problem. They're inanimate objects. Neither good nor evil. Kind of like "guns don't kill people. People kill people."

And yet, even though I firmly believe what I just said, I was all "get that shit away from me!" Like it was satan incarnate or something.

I've always insisted that there are two different kinds of addictions, mental and physical. Physical addiction is when you get sick if you can't get your fix. Physically ill. In intolerable pain. Delirious. Running a fever. Sick to your stomach. For weeks. Mental addiction is what makes you keep going back to something you know is hurting you, even if going without it causes no physical symptoms whatsoever. You can kick a mental addiction if you have to (or, in my head, you SHOULD be able to) but it's a physical addiction that leaves you totally in its clutches.

I'm not addicted anymore - I've been out of the hospital for quite some time. I wont get sick if I can't have my stuff. BUT I WANTED THEM SO BAD.

Which just makes me feel like shit about myself. Cause I should be better than that.
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We are more than the things that have happened to us.

I am more than the things that have happened to me.

But am I more than the things I have done? Can I be better than the things I have done?

I don't believe in karma. I don't believe in any great scorecard in the sky. So... does assigning blame even make a difference?

I can blame myself. My actions caused the situation I've found myself in. I can deflect the blame, too, though. It wasn't really my fault. But it always comes back to me, because in the end, of course it was my fault. But then, was it really my fault? Really?

So let's say it is. Then what? I have so much anger, where do I direct it, then? All on myself?

I don't think I have it in me to hate myself. I can hate my life and I can hate the world and everything in it, and sometimes I hate being alive. But I don't hate myself. I don't think I ever did. But I've definitely got it in me to hate something.

I am pissed that I couldn't vote.

And I'm disgusted with myself.

And I hate the world. And my life.

Yeah, lookit me, I'm all proud of how I don't believe in karma and then I get all bent out of shape when I think life isn't FAIR.

Go figure.
exhilaration: (Rose close-up)
I worked all weekend. Got stuck very late at work friday night - I didn't get home until almost three, and we close at one, and I wasn't even supposed to be there until close in the first place. I've been trying pretty hard to make work as least awkward as possible - Saturday night I always do take-out, which means I'm at the bar, and Saturday night is B's bar shift, and last week I bailed and got someone to cover me so I wouldn't have to work so close with him. This week he switched with another bartender and waited tables I guess so he wouldn't have to work so close with me. Yeah... we were talking to each other, I mean, we had to, we had to talk to each other because we're working together. It's a restaurant - teamwork, and all.

But Sunday - I mean, one of us had to say something at some point, I guess. When lunch was ending and the dinner shift was coming in I was kind of hanging around by the bar - I had asked, at the beginning of the shift, if B could drive me home, and he said okay, so I was just waiting for the other bartender to come in. And we have been talking - about nothing. About the Phillies - incessantly - oh, did you know, the Phillies are in the world series? I am starting to fall for the team, really, I am. They're hardcore. I'm in love with all of them. I can't believe I saw them play that first time over the summer and could barely pay attention to them. Not now, my friends! Now I am glued to the screen!

So yeah, we've mostly been talking either about working or the Phillies. Safe topics, or whatever. But Sunday afternoon B kind of leaned on the bar and looked at me and was like, "will it do me any good to apologize to you?"

And when did I ever say I wanted an apology, anyway? )

But the whole time I had this weird feeling that this is the last time we'll ever do anything like that. Like it's already too late. Like we've both already said too much and we can never go back to the easy way things were. Now it's either going to be complicated, or it's going to be over.

And that's what I was trying to avoid all along. I'd say he was doing the same thing, but really I have no idea.

It makes me kind of sad.
exhilaration: (Rose close-up)
So I had a conversation with Erica this morning in the car on the way to work. I told her before that she could move the boxes in the extra bedroom up to the attic if she wanted to - she didn't want to, I guess, cause they're still in the extra bedroom and she doesn't go in there. Which... is understandable, since there really isn't anything in there. But her being around is kind of like the kick in the ass I needed to really get started finishing the house up. There are a lot of things I have just not been bothering with or putting off for whenever because it's been just me here - now she's here too so I feel like I have to step it up a notch or something.

This time I asked her to please take the boxes up to the attic :P

And she is the one who brought up paying rent again - I don't need rent money from her, and I can't even charge her rent in good conscience, considering what the house is like right now. But I need favors like you wouldn't believe. So she and I together are going to "finish" the extra bedroom, and her help is going to be considered rent, and then after it's finished if she really is going to keep living here then she can pay me rent.

I think that's fair, right?

So, it's yellow, white, and blue for the third bedroom. I never would have picked that, but that's what Erica picked, and I just don't really feel like contradicting her - it doesn't really matter, after this year, I'm not going to be living here anyway, and I'm definitely never staying in that bedroom. I'm sure it will be fine. I think I know where I can order some white wicker furniture, too - nice and beach-looking, and all that.

So, tomorrow is the wedding with B - that'd be the DATE )

So... I am really never going to know what's going on in his head. Unless I learn to read minds, or something. I don't think I can master that by tomorrow, though :P

Disgust.

Oct. 6th, 2008 11:14 pm
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Well, I apologized to Erica today.

I don't know what's the matter with me sometimes. On the one hand, I feel like I should just be able to say, hey, that's the way I am, that's how I act, I am moody, I am angry, and I am often completely irrational, and you know, that's just the way I am so you just have to deal with it. But should "that's just the way I am" really be an excuse for bad behavior?

I guess what I'm really saying is that I really hate the attitude of "well that's who I am so I can't help it that I treat you that way." And I hate that as much as I try to be different, that is the way I am. Clearly, it is.

And you know, this upset me more than it upset her. She was really to let the whole thing just blow over - because she's already caught on to the fact that this is just "they way I am."

I TAKE A FUCKING PILL NOT TO BE THIS WAY!

What the hell would I be like without it? Or is it not working anymore? Ah, I've got it, I've built up a resistance to it! That would make sense, that would sure fit the pattern, now, wouldn't it?

Why did I have to be wired COMPLETELY FUCKING BATSHIT?

I can't talk about this anymore. I need to storm off. I need to slam some doors. I need to break something. A few things. I need to fly off the handle again. I can feel it brewing - and it won't make me feel better. It won't change a FUCKING thing.
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Ok so. To sum up this weekend nicely: I now have a housemate. Her name is Erica.

Erica came over real late last night. She did call first but it was just to tell me she was coming over, not to ask if she could come over or anything. Which was my first clue that something was the matter because she didn't sound quite right on the phone. Of course, she woke me up, cause I had been sleeping. And B was over, and he was sleeping too. She woke up both up, and he went home when he woke up, because he wasn't intending to sleep over in the first place, we just kinda fell asleep by accident. But I figured maybe she sounded funny to me because I had been sleeping.

Apparently Erica got in a big fight with her dad. She was absolutely hysterical, her eyes were all red and I've really never seen her that upset about anything. She is the kind of person who gets irritated by things, and makes it very obvious when something gets on her nerves or upsets her, but she's always completely in control. She didn't really tell me what they fought about, just that it was something stupid and she wasn't going back home.

Which was my first clue to the end result right there.

Erica lives with her parents. Erica graduated from college last spring and came back to live with her parents. Her plan was to take a year off and then go to law school. She's going to be a lawyer. She always said she doesn't mind living with her parents because they get along really well and respect her space and treat her like an adult and everything. And a lot of people around here live with their parents in the summer and then move out for the winter, because housing is always really cheap in the winter and super expensive in the summer. I mean, B lives with his dad. John, the waiter who does stuff in my house sometimes, lives with his parents, and he's almost thirty.

She does have a job now, by the way, She's had a job for a few months now - I tease her about her job, I say she works for Barak Obama. Well, for real, she does work for the Democratic party. It's some kind of non-profit job. I really know nothing about it other than that it's part-time and doesn't pay well but will look good on a resume or grad school application.

I really have no idea what went on at Erica's house that had her so upset. )

What it comes down to, I guess, is that I'm confused as hell, in general, like always, but I don't think Erica moving in here is a bad thing. I think it's a really good thing. So I shouldn't be all worked up like this.
exhilaration: (impossible things)
(2 Points) Who is my favorite band/artist?: The Foo Fighters. User name should give that one away :P I have a LOT to say about the Foo Fighters. Way too much for one entry. Way too much for five entries! I'm going to do a series of voice posts all about how much I love the Foo Fighters! Just you wait!

(3 Points) Am I shy or outgoing?: Normally, I am not shy. Every so often, though, it sneaks up on me. I'm not afraid to talk to people I don't know. I'm not afraid to start random conversations - I like to talk to people I don't know and start random conversations. I don't have "stage fright" or whatever - I will sing at karaoke night no problem. But every so often I just don't feel like being around crowds of people. Its entirely a mood thing - sometimes I am just not in the mood.

(4 Points) What is my secret 'if I could do anything, money/reality no object' dream?: What do you think I would do if I could do anything?

tough answer, but here it goes... )

Bonus: My job fucking sucks. Nobody likes a hostess.
exhilaration: (impossible things)
So if I didn't mention it, yes, it was kind of weird having Bevan meet my friends. Or, having my friends meet him, really.

Since my friend from college, Jimmy, and his.. girlfriend, I guess, was at Matt's too, we did some reminiscing about being students. Me and Jimmy went to the same college. We lived in the same dorm our freshmen year - and of course I was around when Matt was a freshman too, you know, visiting him on the weekends and stuff, when I was... seventeen, I guess, since I started college myself right when I turned eighteen.

At the time I considered having the college dorm experience my right, and how dare anyone try to tell me anything different.

I had not a fucking clue in those days, my friends. Not a fucking clue.

I had no idea what a privilege it was to be able to move out of my parents' house. I really didn't understand that there were people out there who simply could not ever financially manage to do what I did - live in a dorm and go to class, do my school work and goof off with my friends and go out drinking and work a campus job maybe ten or fifteen hours a week.

I get it now. What a little unreal bubble I lived in back then - I think I had some idea that it was some kind of in-between stage between being an adult and not, but I definitely didn't appreciate it for what it was. If I wanted to go to school now, well, what? I would have to move somewhere near the school, I'd have to find a job that could work around my class schedule, I'd have to take out massive loans - it would be so different now.

I don't know why I was so compelled to fuck it up when I had the chance.

So anyway, these days I feel like I never even went to college. )

Oh yes. My kitchen cabinets are still in my living room.

AREN'T I JUST SO AWESOME?

At It Again

Sep. 4th, 2008 11:59 pm
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Well, now I'm just all out of sorts. I really don't know what to say about this, or what to think, or what I want to say, or anything.

I went to a strip club last night. Bevan invited me - this would be the third time I've gone, and I was excited to go. I got a lap dance. It was hot. Very. And after, it hit me: yes, I did just pay a girl forty dollars to make out with me. And suddenly it didn't seem so hot after all. I just felt... disturbed.

On the one hand, it just made me miss... I don't know. Sex? Intimacy? Both? These are things most humans crave, I guess that is not so odd. But it surprised me. I kind of felt like, hey, I could be doing this as much as I wanted, to my hearts content, if only I had someone. Which I don't.

And on the other hand, it felt a little odd because I was lacking adrenaline. Whatever additional kick would have come from knowing that this girl, this random girl, was actually attracted to me rather than being paid by me was missing, and it was noticeable.

I don't know. I went back to Bevan's after. I told him the basic idea of how the lap dance turned out, that, ah, I got to participate, and I tried to explain to him what had me so out of sorts, but I really couldn't explain it at all.

I was feeling kind of frustrated, sort of like I was all wound up with no where to go, and when I tried to put words to that, it did occur to me that if it was just plain sex I was craving, well, that could most definitely be arranged. Me and Bevan have already done it once, and almost did it another time - a repeat wouldn't be completely far-fetched.

But I'm not attracted to him. I like him very much. I like hanging out with him, talking to him, being around him, knowing about him and thinking about him and just generally being friends with him. I'm not attracted to him at all - there is nothing about him that is attractive to me. He is short, almost as short as I am, he plasters his hair down, his teeth are kinda crooked, he wears stupid t-shirts and I'm just not attracted to him at all.

I would like to be attracted to somebody.

And then I want to fuck them silly.

And I know, I know, that is just a basic human want, to have sex. All humans like and want sex. I assume I'll have a reasonable amount of sex in my lifetime.

But I want some RIGHT NOW.

So, I guess what I'm saying is, I went to a strip club, and now I have a serious case of SF. SF standing for SEXUAL FRUSTRATION.
exhilaration: (impossible things)
(2 Points) Do I have any siblings?: Yes

(2 Points) How many?: One.

I have a sister. She is two years younger than I am. I have probably never mentioned her except to say that she has a middle name and I don't. I haven't seen her in a few years and I definitely haven't spoken to her in over two - but it's not how it sounds. We didn't have a huge argument and stop speaking to each other or anything - actually, I did something very, very nice for her, and then we just kind of... got pushed apart, I guess.

My sister and me )

Anyway. In all this mess, I've never contacted my sister, and she's never contacted me. Like I said, we didn't have a fight or anything - shit just happened.

We look alike. She doesn't have pink hair, of course - well, since I haven't seen her in a long time, I assume she doesn't have pink hair. It doesn't seem like something she would do, anyway. But we look a whole lot alike. When we were kids people used to mistake us for twins.

She's taller than me. I don't know, somehow even though I'm the oldest I got the short genes, go figure. She's very smart - like me. And very musical - like me. She's shy - not like me at all, and sweet - also not like me at all :P

If I wanted to call her - I don't have her phone number. I don't know where she works or even where she lives now. So - yeah. That's about that.
exhilaration: (angry adipose)
Let me tell you what I feel like right now.

My back hurts.

I don't believe for a minute the simple statement "my back hurts" is an accurate description of what I feel like. Let me try again.

The center of my back is ON FUCKING FIRE. There is a white-hot ball of fucking fire dead center between my shoulder blades and the pain is radiating outward and upward across my shoulders, up my neck and into my head.

Did you know that pretty much every time you move your back moves? Did you know that you use your back to do pretty much everything?

Of course, it fucking hurts whether I move or not, so I might as well move, but not if I'm going to end up passing out from the pain. Or puking my guts out. Neither is ideal.

Yes, I have already double-dosed on anything that could possibly help. This is it. I should have just taken a tranquilizer and knocked myself the fuck out, but there were things I wanted to do today. I would rather have done them anyway, even half out of my head on painkillers, but that's not going to be possible, I'm in too much pain to do any fucking thing at all, and I can't do a fucking thing about it but just sit here and take it.

No tranquilizer, see, because I certainly don't want to OD. And yeah, you can tack "again" on to the end of that. I don't want to OD again.

I don't want to watch a show because I can't even fucking pay attention to it. I'm just so pissed - why does my body do this to me? Why does it not comprehend that there IS NO FUCKING FIRE in my spine and react accordingly? I am doing EVERYTHING I am supposed to be doing - I AM DOING IT RIGHT, WHY DO I NOT GET MY WAY?

I felt fine yesterday, what THE FUCK did I do differently today?

I don't have work today - I do have work tomorrow. So what do I do if I keep feeling this shitty? I can't go to work - I can hardly get the fuck up. If I keep calling out of work, I have to bring a doctor's note - so I have to go see a doctor, who will be like, blah blah blah, oh, you say you're in pain, SORRY ABOUT THAT, why don't you try this that and the other thing that HAVE NEVER WORKED BEFORE? Hm wait, let's see, are you sure you're not just trying to get DRUGS?

I want to be so advanced that I can make my brain tell my body it simply refuses to register this kind of UNCALLED FOR BULLSHIT.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? I haven't felt pain this intense in years! My shoulder? My shoulder hurt? NO IT DOESN'T, THAT IS NOTHING COMPARED TO THIS.

And there's nothing I can do. There is not one single thing I can do about it.

LIFE FUCKING SUCKS.
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I don't like my parents.

They didn't abuse me. I just don't like them.

I also don't like people who make me feel like such a defective person that obviously something must have been done to me in my childhood to make me act the way I do.

I guess I'm just not a nice person, okay? Not everyone is.

Today I had an appointment with my shrink. Getting there was another bus adventure. The actual appointment was completely uneventful. I think he is my favoritest shrink ever - he doesn't give a rat's ass about me. He doesn't remember anything about me. He doesn't look at my file. He just asks if I want to change my medication. I don't.

Ok, so, to recap: if my own psychiatrist is not interested in my childhood... right. You'd be gaining no insight to question me about mine.

You know, I think I just might take certain comments a little bit to personally every now and then.
exhilaration: (Default)
For real. Nothing to see.

Edit: Oh, well, I did comment in the [livejournal.com profile] gimp_vent community as to how I both do and do not think of myself as disabled and the comment's about as long as a journal entry. Sometimes when I start on something I have trouble cutting it short, it seems. It's the kind of stuff I try to keep out of my personal journal, for reasons that... oh, go right along with the comment, I guess.
exhilaration: (Rose close-up)
I'm a real mess, here.

Still no job.

Shouldn't really be freaking out about that. I have one job anyway. It's a good job, it pays pretty well. Maybe I'll be okay just working more hours there. Except, well, come winter, I'll only be working there a few days a week, I'm sure, and that certainly won't work. But it does take more than a few days to find a job. Doesn't it? So I shouldn't be kicking myself over that.

Aside from the job. Aside from the car. Oh, the stupid, stupid car - right, aside from that.

I'm a lesbian. A les. bi. an. I'm not bi. I'm not straight. I like other girls. I always have. I have had three girlfriends in my life, and I was head over fucking heels for all three of them.

So what the fuck am I doing messing around with a guy?

Yeah. I really don't know either. But I am.

Yep. That's pretty much what happened. )

I always fall for the unavailable ones. It's what I do.

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Lara I.

October 2012

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