tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49833163617422403502024-02-19T07:56:27.253-06:00Feels Like SuicideSome days I want to hang myselfSuicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-46234815716666884012010-02-05T13:05:00.002-06:002010-02-05T13:37:57.988-06:00BloodThis has been a terribly stressful week. On the weekend I broke down and went to cut myself but then stopped because I knew I'd still feel like shit no matter what. Today I feel like cutting myself again, but I'm not. There aren't any clean knives and I'm too lazy to wash one. I'm not trying to kill myself, so there's no need to risk infection. (chuckle)<br /><br />Sometimes I feel like my body is a kettle filled with boiling water. Only when I cut myself can the steam rise out of me and all the stress and pain dissipates. I never used to feel that way about cutting. I used to be afraid of it. I was afraid of seeing blood. Now I'm curious.<br /><br />I've been dreaming about my wedding day. I'm wearing a beautiful white dress. The weather is perfect. I look gorgeous and everyone is outside waiting for me. But I don't come out because I've hanged myself in my wedding dress, holding my bouquet of flowers. I'm watching myself from inside the room where I'm dangling from the ceiling. My mother in law finds the dead me, but doesn't notice the ghost me watching the chaos.<br /><br />In another version of the dream, I've found a razor and have cut up my arm and wrist and I'm bleeding all over everything. My wedding dress is stained red and one of my bridesmaids finds me and starts freaking out. I faint and all I see is black and I can hear the family crying and gasping as they try to save my life. The sounds start to fade away, like I'm being pulled up and back. Everything is still black, but now I'm inside myself and that's all I have left. It's really weird.<br /><br />It makes me wonder if I'm dying in my dream, or just going into a coma, maybe. I wonder if I'll come back to life.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-61430156841495737912009-12-05T23:40:00.002-06:002009-12-05T23:57:36.699-06:00I'm BackI'm back and earlier than expected.<br /><br />Alas, it's started. The sadness. The frustration. I feel angry and I feel bitter.<br /><br />Also, He's proposing to me at Christmas. I haven't decided if I'm going to say Yes or No, yet. I've known for well over a month that he was going to propose. I wasn't sure when exactly, but he kind of let it slip at breakfast this morning. Yuck.<br /><br />I'll probably say yes in the moment. I don't really want to. Well, I want to, but I'm not sure about it all. We're just going to end up divorced anyway. Girls always have this picture in their head of how they want to be proposed to.<br /><br />Personally, I want it to be a huge production. I want it to be disgustingly romantic and beautiful and meaningful, maybe even in public so he can profess his undying love for me while strangers witness his spectacle. I him to write me a love song, or spray it on a billboard, or just anything big and awesome!<br /><br />I doubt I'll get what I want.<br /><br />But he better not propose in a fucking car or the dirty apartment. I'll be pissed.<br /><br />I want stars and flowers and music and candles and backup dancers. Sigh. Wishful thinking.<br /><br />I am so fucking pessimistic. I am the most bitter person I know. Most girls would be crying with joy over the fact that their boyfriend wants to propose. Here I am picking it all apart, complaining, sounding like a huge ungrateful bitch, which I'm sure I am. It's hard to be happy when you're not a happy person.<br /><br />This Christmas will be my most fake one yet.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-5251832045650904742009-07-01T14:39:00.002-05:002009-07-01T14:40:17.994-05:00HiatusThis blog is now on hiatus until the first snow fall. I feel fucking fantastic and this blog depresses me so I'm not even going to bother bringing down my good mood.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-68776527666906885042009-06-13T14:14:00.003-05:002009-06-13T14:33:45.982-05:00NewsI have news. I don't know if it's good or bad, but it's big!<br /><br />I was given some very good advice from a distant family member: I am not responsible for my parent!<br /><br />How true. I am not. I shouldn't be. Ever. It's not right. I have given my dad over $1000 in the last 2 years. And on top of that money, for his combined birthday and father's day gift, my sister and I paid for the $1000 repair bill on his truck for him. Unfortunately, my sister is going to school in the fall and we split the bill 60-40.<br /><br />It's a lot of money. I'm not even working steady. A few days here and there, if I'm lucky, I'll get three shifts a week. Money's tight for me too, but at least I have savings.<br /><br />Dad said he might have to move in with me in September. I'm dreading it. I had offered my place to him, but now I'm having second thoughts. I wrote my dad a letter explaining how I feel. My relationship with The BF is already strained, and having dad move in for an unknown amount of time will cause more stress. I feel so bad going back on my word, but I have to. Dad has to help himself before I can help him any more.<br /><br />I'm really afraid to send the letter, and I don't know if I have the guts to do it. I'll be hurting my father a lot and he's already depressed. I feel like I'm the only one he has. Like all the weight is on my shoulders to keep him afloat. I shouldn't have to feel this way and I also feel guilty and selfish sometimes too.<br /><br />I just don't know what to do anymore.<br /><br />And The BF said to me that he's no longer going to pick me up from work because it interferes with his social life. I take the bus to work because it costs $2.30 to board the transit. If I take my car to work, it costs me $10 a day to park. Taking the bus saves me a considerable amount of money.<br /><br />But because I work 10:30 until 7:15, by the time I get off work, all the buses are running on evening times. I have to wait 20 minutes or more after I'm done my shift to catch the bus home. And there's a lot of walking involved. So, instead of waiting around, The BF just comes to pick me up.<br /><br />It's a great system for me, but The BF has started complaining that he can't hang out with his friends after work (he gets home at 5) because he has to wait around for my shift to end and come get me. I didn't realize that this was such an inconvenience to him. I didn't realize his friends were so fucking important he has to hang out with them ALL THE FUCKING TIME!!! It's always about his friends, always.<br /><br />This relationship is really not working out at all. We are not on the same wavelength anymore. He is so consumed by his friendships it's all he sees. When I tell him how I feel like I'm always on the back burner he doesn't deny it, but he doesn't try to do anything about it either. I feel so useless.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-71827977937421184952009-06-07T19:09:00.004-05:002009-06-07T19:29:19.846-05:00Mixed BagI'm such a drama queen.<br /><br />Things with The Bf and I are fine(ish) I guess. I installed The Sims Complete Collection and made all my friends and family into Sim form. It's sweet.<br /><br />I went for breakfast with my sister this morning and it was really fun. She told me funny things that happened last night after she went to go pick up her drunk friend-with-benefits from the bar. I like to call him Shelly because his name is Sheldon and he hates being called Shelly.<br /><br />For the past week I've been waiting for a response from my I-hope-to-one-day-be-real-friends on facebook. Nothing yet. I didn't say anything weird to them... and I know they've read my message because I creeped their facebook to see what kind of activity they've been up to.<br /><br />It's time to give up. I'm moving to plan B. "Would you like to get a coffee tomorrow?" is almost too easy. Instead, I should think of an elaborate and difficult scheme to "randomly" bump into them. I'm kidding. But thinking about it makes me laugh.<br /><br />I like plotting outrageous plans that make no sense. I once wrote a story called "Why Russ Is In Cuba" and it's a semi-fictional story that originated from an MSN Messenger convo I was having with a friend.<br /><br />I'd love to get some art done to go along with the story, but I'd have to find a talented artist first.<br /><br />This blog was mostly useless... but now I'm going to post my story on here... maybe.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-43850277846032166662009-06-06T15:24:00.004-05:002009-06-06T15:40:39.782-05:00It's OverIn three months I'll be single. The BF and I are just not working out as planned. I have to wait for three months because that's when the lease is up on the apartment. Financially we need each other right now, but emotionally, I'm just not feeling it.<br /><br />He chooses his friends over me all the time. If there's ever something that I want to do with him and his friends are not involved, he doesn't want to do it. He'd rather, "be with friends" instead. It's depressing.<br /><br />I'm moving to London to become a lesbian for a year. I'll get a work visa with swap.com and they'll help me set it all up. (The work visa, not the lesbian bit.)<br /><br />Moving out of this apartment at the end of September works out nicely for me. My sister is going away to college and staying in a dorm, so while I look for a place to live I can just crash at my mom's and stay in my sister's room. Living at home sucks, but it's better than living with my current boyfriend.<br /><br />I really like him, but I can tell it's not working. I'm a depressing cry-baby to begin with, so adding the stress of having a boyfriend who makes me cry too doesn't help.<br /><br />Many people have commented that they think we're a great couple and really compatible and junk, but what they're seeing isn't real. I happen to be very good at faking a genuine smile. I've been doing it for so long, I don't even notice it anymore.<br /><br />I'm going to be such a loser when I become single. I feel no optimism for my future, but I'd rather feel alone in an empty room than alone in a crowd.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-57590039181683022882009-06-04T09:31:00.002-05:002009-06-04T09:42:52.138-05:00A Real Person's FaceI'm still waiting for my happy pills to come in the mail. It seems they've already had a placebo effect on me because yesterday and the day before I was exuberantly happy!<br /><br />I felt like my old self. The BF and I had a water fight. I bought some water guns and left one outside the front door for him with a note that said "arm yourself' and when he walked in I started shooting him! Our clothes were all wet and we took them off and had great sex!!!<br /><br />What a wonderful day that was.<br /><br />I'm not sure what today will bring. I'm optimistic that I'll make a new friend or two. I met a girl named Maha at a karaoke bar and she seemed really nice and she added me on facebook. I sent her a message and I hope she sends me one back.<br /><br />Plus, I signed up for pottery classes. They start in July. I'm really excited. The class is small, only nine people, but I hope my classmates are cool people.<br /><br />My boyfriend's band-mate, Margie, is someone I hope to be friends with. She's really cool and I like her and I sent her a message on facebook, but I don't know what's going to become of it. She's a bit of a social butterfly. I think she only talks to me because I'm The BF's shadow.<br /><br />I can tell the difference when somebody is talking to me because they are interested in what I have to say, or because they're just so comfortable with themselves and their interpersonal skills, they think they can pass off small chat as something greater. Damn you!<br /><br />I sent her a message about something that's deeper than small chat. She responded, but we haven't had a convo in real life... I'm hoping to get away from the fucking facebook and more towards a real person's face. That's my goal. I can do this.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-3142728741281225222009-06-01T22:04:00.002-05:002009-06-01T22:13:20.054-05:00Waiting for HappinessHappiness is not a fish that you can catch. I can't play the ukulele worth a shit and when I told my boyfriend I wanted to move to the United Kingdom for a year on a work visa he said he'd break up with me because he doesn't want to come with me and he doesn't want a long distance relationship. (Even though I'd be gone only for a year... possibly only 6 months! Plus we've been dating for over a year and are practically engaged, just with no rings.)<br /><br />I'm not sure what he's so afraid of. He just bought a car and his career is going really well. He's made a shit-ton of friends and his music and photography are really kicking off. He has a great life. I don't.<br /><br />I am unhappy to the extreme. Judging by the name of this blog, perhaps you would agree?<br /><br />I've always wanted to travel and I think this would be a super amazing opportunity. I'm ready to leave now! I want to go, get out, fly away, never come back for a year!<br /><br />The BF wants to stay, be rooted, be responsible, buy a house, be a nob.<br /><br />Fucking lucky bastard. If we were switch positions, I wouldn't want to leave either.<br /><br />So now I'm debating... do I leave for a year anyway? Lose my job, my apartment, my fucking boyfriend! One of the few people who puts up with my bullshit attitude towards life and living in general.<br /><br />Do I throw that all away? I don't think that I am throwing it all away. I think I'm putting it on hold until I've seen the world. I've always wanted to travel. Why not now? Why not now while I'm young and and flexible? Later is too late for me.<br /><br />And as we've all learned with The BF, later is the story of his life.<br /><br />I can't wait much longer. It feels like I'm waiting for happiness. I just want to go out into the world and be satisfied... If I have to do it alone, then so be it.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-41382558772737623762009-06-01T07:59:00.006-05:002009-06-01T08:10:31.588-05:00Happy Pills<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://www.svncanada.com/cart_photo.php?lid=11537&pic=image.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 199px; height: 300px;" src="https://www.svncanada.com/cart_photo.php?lid=11537&pic=image.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Last night I typed the words "happy pills" into Google search and I found this: <br /><br />It made me laugh inside my head, like who would be stupid enough to buy these? It doesn't look professional in any way.<br /><br />I bought a bottle of 60 tablets anyway. It only cost me $30 which, after looking at some other prices on the web, it seems like I got some sort of deal. Other sites were selling for $50 and even $60 dollars. (And is it redundant I wrote a $ sign plus the word?)<br /><br />Here's some more specs for you to judge me by:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZsfoANg7eoMu-2gAfUF-dWYxV6GRYoILOuEm7RnjBtSnAj5MIjJ9I88b5TRI6qwRkiOdQJn_17Wgp2j08zfr2X34p7nb1jG6LDallkVwTgviMS8aFoZJ3jCsTGl89yW7yi77SQvaS7F8/s1600-h/uploadB.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZsfoANg7eoMu-2gAfUF-dWYxV6GRYoILOuEm7RnjBtSnAj5MIjJ9I88b5TRI6qwRkiOdQJn_17Wgp2j08zfr2X34p7nb1jG6LDallkVwTgviMS8aFoZJ3jCsTGl89yW7yi77SQvaS7F8/s320/uploadB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342345537519889858" /></a>Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-91753131182348051432009-05-31T17:24:00.003-05:002009-05-31T17:36:08.144-05:00UkuleleI went for a bike ride today. I feel okay. Not good, but not bad either. Just neutral. I think I'm really going to start playing my ukulele for realzies this time. All of my boyfriend's friends (plus The BF too) are musicians or singers in some way. I'm neither and that makes me feel like an outsider. I'm going to learn the ukulele and be cool like everyone else.<br /><br />Fuck, this one girl sings and plays the SAW!!! Who even plays that as an instrument? And there's all these weird drums and shakers and things in every house we go into.<br /><br />Today we met some hula hoop girls who also surface juggle at breakfast at a friend's house. It was cool, but weird too. They were pretty au natural if you know what I mean. Hairy armpits and legs and big eyebrows. They all dreaded their hair and wore fucked up crazy hobo outfits. Oh, and of course, NO BRAS! Big saggy tits with nothing to restrain them. I love seeing that while I'm trying to eat my blueberry pancakes. Like huge gross nipples.<br /><br />The BF's best friend is leaving on a month long bike trip. Thank fucking God. If they spent any more time together I'd think they were jacking each other off every night!<br /><br />It will be nice to not have to compete for attention for a while.<br /><br />Sometimes I just feel so fucking outside of everything, you know what I mean? Like I'm alienated everywhere I go. I hate that. I do it to myself, for sure, but I still hate it. And I hate myself for it too.<br /><br />And I wish I could sing really good. That would solve a lot of my problems. Being a better singer is something I should work on.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-87144754267298297122009-05-30T15:15:00.004-05:002009-05-30T15:24:16.096-05:00LuckyLast night I listened to Lucky by Radiohead and when the chorus came I burst into tears. I wrapped my pink belt around my neck as tight as I could. I could feel my pulse in my throat and I felt my face turning red. When I started to get dizzy I loosened up. I did this several times. Then I wrote the word slit on both my wrists with a black gel ink pen. I thought it looked cool. I tried sharpening my knife so it would slice my skin easier but I don't really know how to properly sharpen a knife and I think I may have actually made it duller. That's just as well I suppose.<br /><br />I went to bed after 2 in the morning. My wrist looks like the cat faintly scratched me. I'm pathetic.<br /><br />I'm also buying half an ounce of weed today and smoking as much of it as I can in one sitting. Perhaps then I'll go for a bike ride to counter act the negative impact smoking has on my lungs.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-86254279339089592842009-05-29T22:06:00.003-05:002009-05-29T22:20:09.734-05:00LaundryNobody's read my blog for about a month now. I thought I was being so positive too...<br /><br />The BF and I got into a fight about laundry today. It was an all out war. He hasn't washed his clothes in literally a month. Every article of clothing he owns is in a heaping pile in the walk-in closet.<br /><br />I'm not sure when the last time he wore clean socks was. He just picks through them to find another pair. Same with jeans and shirts and gitch. Fucking disgusting. He smells.<br /><br />I said if you don't deal with this I'm putting your laundry somewhere you don't want it to be. He never did his laundry so I moved every last article into his studio. I covered the entire floor with his dirty clothes.<br /><br />His car is broken and he's been using mine for the last two weeks. I put my foot down last night and said take the bus you scab! So he did. He comes home late from work. He's in a terrible mood. He takes one look at his laundry and explodes.<br /><br />Everything with him is "I'll do it later" "I'll do it tomorrow" "Another time" "Not right now."<br /><br />Fucker.<br /><br />Now! NOW! I said to him. DO IT NOW! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!<br /><br />I got in his face and shoved him a bit. Lots of finger wagging and pointing. I said get it done.<br /><br />He wanted to take a nap. I told him he would never be able to fall asleep because I would standing over his head screaming at him to wash his laundry. He tried anyway and failed horrible. I nagged in his ear as hard as I could. I even attempted to push him off the bed. This really agitated him.<br /><br />"Why are you acting like such a crazy bitch?" he says.<br />I grabbed a pair of scissors and said, "You want crazy? This is crazy! Go wash your clothes before I fucking stab you!"<br /><br />I jabbed my scissors into his general direction for good measure.<br /><br />It took a good thirty to forty-five minutes of yelling and abuse before he conceded and took his clothes to the washing machine. I told him he could nap on the huge leather couch in the laundry room if he was sooooo tired.<br /><br />After he brought his clean laundry upstairs I made him hang it up and put it away properly. I also got him to change the lightbulbs he kept saying he'd do and never did. And I got him to change the kitty litter and take out the recycling.<br /><br />He is such a lazy, dirty, fucker.<br /><br />I wish for once, just once, he'd show some initiative and pride in himself. Like, seriously, wear clean socks every day for fuck's sake! I can't even believe him sometimes.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-59013834425854980872009-05-26T14:47:00.002-05:002009-05-26T15:02:00.599-05:00I So Called ItMy father has<br />- no job<br />- no vehicle<br />- no groceries<br />- no credit and no way to build credit. I think he has negative credit.<br /><br />Soon to have no utilities, and before you know it, no apartment! Hooray!<br /><br />Seriously, 4 days ago I told my friends THIS was going to be the year my dad moves in with me. He's flat broke and now any prospect he ever had of finding a job has been completely diminished to nothing. Living in a rural area with no transportation makes it quite difficult to get groceries, pay bills, get a job.<br /><br />What happened was his tranny died in his truck. It turned out to be a $900 repair and my dad simply can't afford it. His birthday is a week before father's day. I talked it over with my sister and she said she could give me a couple hundred bucks, but I think I'm going to pay for the repairs on his truck.<br /><br />He's got to have a vehicle if he wants to get a job. He can't even get to a bank without a vehicle.<br /><br />I told Dad to just move in with me already, but he's not giving up hope yet. He says he still has some tricks up his sleeve. He's going to take his bike around town and talk to some people. Try to spread the word that he's looking for a job, any job, doing anything, any position available at all, paying any wage!<br /><br />Good for him. He's a tough man. He's trying so hard. It kills me to watch him struggle so much. He's 62. It shouldn't be this bad. He's been in the same rut for 8 years now and there doesn't seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel.<br /><br />I so fucking called it.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-72055334434050736142009-05-22T11:02:00.002-05:002009-05-22T11:04:46.325-05:00Something HappenedYou know when you think something is going to happen, and you're like, yeah I know for sure this going to happen, but then when it doesn't happen you're kind of disappointed, and you say to yourself, oh well, I kind of knew that it would turn out this way, even though earlier you "knew for sure it was going to happen."<br /><br /><br />That's kind of how I feel right now.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-70445301473633977122009-05-18T12:22:00.004-05:002009-05-18T14:02:10.642-05:00Modern Ann FrankI think the storm has passed. I know that for the rest of my life I'll probably be paranoid. I'll probably be anxious and claustrophobic. I'll probably be depressed.<br /><br />But for right now, I feel fucking fantastic. I found my old diaries and I started reading them for hours. God, to be 13 again! I was so excited about life, the world, and growing up. I was boy crazy and felt pretty. Where did that young girl go? She used to be so vibrant.<br /><br />How did she mature into this gloomy cloud? I don't know.<br /><br />Life fucking sucks the dick, but I need to get out in the world anyway. I want to go where I've never gone before. I'm not ready to die. There's too much shit to do and I want to do it before I can't.<br /><br />Gotta see the world before it ends. Before the mountains erode to nothing; before all the rivers and lakes dry up into mud pits; and before all the forests are chopped barren and form large deserts. Gotta leave the country before Big Brother cracks down on international travel and implements newspeak.<br /><br />Then I'll write about it in my journal. Hopefully I'll have children and grandchildren to pass my writings on to. They can read my adventure long after I'm gone. Maybe then my life will have meaning.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-59813213422272240982009-05-03T15:59:00.003-05:002009-05-03T16:09:04.232-05:00The NookI zoned out at breakfast this morning. We were at The Nook. The BF was boring me and wouldn't stop talking about things I already know, so I didn't even pretend to listen. I just zoned out.<br /><br />Plus, I don't know why I always order pancakes when I go out to eat because I really don't like pancakes. They seem like a good idea at the time, but they're too heavy and gross me out after just a few bites. I ate literally half my stack. The BF ate his stack plus the rest of my stack too.<br /><br />He's going to get fat one day and it will be all my fault. Well, one third my fault. He doesn't eat breakfast and his lunch consists of Mr. Noodles and an apple, or maybe a burger and fries. Blah.<br /><br />After we're married and have kids I'm going to enforce family breakfast hour, family exercise time, and family board game night.<br /><br />I'm craving mozzerela flavoured cheetos right now. Damn that would taste so good! They don't sell them where I'm from and that disappoints me.<br /><br />I'm hungry all the time. I'm going to get fat one day too. I used to care, but now I kind of don't.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-41699791530575207522009-05-02T20:41:00.002-05:002009-05-02T20:52:20.111-05:00MarriageI had a birthday party. I didn't want to have it, but I planned it anyway and The BF kind of forced me to go through with it.<br /><br />I plotted to hang myself in the bathroom while all my party guests were there. I didn't have any rope and I drank so much I blacked out. Then I told one of my friends my plan because I was so drunk I wasn't really thinking. She started to cry.<br /><br />Then she left and The BF had to take care of me. He stole my pocket knife from me so I wouldn't cut myself, and I said I was going to hang myself anyway. He was upset and told me to get some help.<br /><br />It's been a week and I haven't yet. I don't think I will. But you never know.<br /><br />My perfect eloping plan has failed. The BF said he couldn't go through with it so I punched him and cried about it. Then I came to my senses and we arranged a compromise.<br /><br />I picked out some rings online that I fancy to show The BF. Mostly Classic Solitaire Round Cuts. I told him if we can't elope my way he damn well better buy me the perfect engagement ring!<br /><br />I hate weddings. I'm going to hate my own wedding. Weddings don't even mean anything you know? For example, my father was married 3 times and divorsed 3 times. My mother married my dad because she was knocked up. Seriously, if this is what I have to look forward to than fuck it!<br /><br />My wedding will be small. 20 people tops. Immediate family only type thing. I've picked out my maid of honour and The BF picked out his best man. We shall be married by justice of the peace type deal in a forest somewhere. (Not my idea! I wanted to go to Australia!)<br /><br />And it will be lovely. Fucking lovely marriage bliss!Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-50777203997057927422009-04-26T02:39:00.001-05:002009-04-26T02:39:58.074-05:00i hate myself i want to die<br />nowSuicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-13657709515684952932009-04-14T23:16:00.002-05:002009-04-14T23:20:27.960-05:00FB FreakI write two posts about how I'm going to hang myself and no comments? Tough crowd. Here goes post three because apparently nobody's reading this anyway. The BF went out with his friends tonight. They went to the bar and the did something else and now they're playing scrabble.<br /><br />I would kill to have somebody to play scrabble with. I remember when board games were my life. Playing board and card games is my ultimate favourite thing to do! The BF said he'd be home by 11, when I get home from work. It's almost 11:30 and he's still out playing scrabble. He texted me saying I can check for updates on the game on Facebook.<br /><br />FUCK YOU YOU FAGGOT FACEBOOK ADDICTED FREAK!Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-75687292397522911682009-04-13T23:54:00.006-05:002009-04-14T00:11:09.405-05:00ProcrastinationDo I deserve to live? What makes my life so worthy? Sure, I can live out my life until I die of natural causes. I could watch my grandchildren grow up. I could travel the world and learn something new every day. But will my presence in the universe help or hinder it? Is fulfilling personal goals and dreams enough to constitute being alive?<br /><br />I have goals and dreams.<br /><br />I want to get married and have kids. I want to buy a house. I want to see Europe.<br /><br />I want to make a difference in the world. But what's the point? Will I ever do any of those things? And let's say I do. Then what? And what if I don't do any of them? What happens then? NOTHING! Nothing happens! It's all for nothing all the time!<br /><br />It's all so mindless and meaningless. Everything is about nothing and there's no unity. There's no togetherness. I feel very disconnected, even from The BF.<br />I feel especially disconnected from my friends. Few people know who I am, but that's my fault really. I shouldn't be so introverted all the time.<br /><br />The world sucks. I don't hate my life, I just hate being alive. I'd say I'm becoming quite close to ending things permanently. I just have to decide when. By the time that comes, I'll probably have talked myself out of it, but it doesn't hurt to have a plan.<br /><br />I should stop fantasizing about suicide and just get it over with already. Procrastination is probably the only reason I'm still alive right now.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-66258959977784241372009-04-11T13:40:00.005-05:002009-04-11T13:52:11.007-05:00Fuck LifeToday feels like suicide. I want to rot in a hole. I don't know why and that's the weird thing. I feel like... sad? I can't explain it. I don't want to feel like this. I still haven't gone to see a therapist or whatever they're called. I thought I didn't need to anymore because the snow was melting and I felt better. Maybe I should.<br /><br />By April I'm not supposed to be sad anymore. By April I'm supposed to be excited about my birthday. I created a facebook event for my birthday. 44 people were invited. I think I personally know about 15 of those people. The rest are acquaintances that could develop into friendships if I worked at them. I figure a party is a good place to start.<br /><br />I'm not excited about my birthday. I want to die. And I want to tell people that I want to die. I want them to know that I'm not well. I am shameful though. Nobody understands.<br /><br />I went into a depression forum and this woman said she wanted to end it all. A reply post said something like, everybody feels depressed at one time or another.<br /><br />No! That's false! Feeling suicidal is not normal! Feeling depressed and being depressed are two totally different things! The average person doesn't want to die. Everything is about preserving life. Fuck life. There's no reason to live.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-56662260458457822012009-04-10T01:41:00.004-05:002009-04-10T01:57:50.203-05:00Feels like Loser-VilleI feel like such a loser right now. I think I'm just buzzed and tired though.<br /><br />I worked the late shift and put in an hour over time. It was after midnight when I left work. The BF left me his car so, I drove down to the club him and his friends were going to meet me at.<br /><br />It was really fun. Co-op and Hunnicut were spinning and they are the best DJ's I know. The BF wants them to play at our wedding reception and I agree! The night we met for the first time was at a Co-op and Hunnicut show.<br /><br />I offered my boyfriend a blowjob tonight and he said he'd rather hang out with his friends. Faggot.<br /><br />I think I live vicariously through my boyfriend. He's so awesome and popular and I'm so retarded and lame.<br /><br />I think The BF and I compliment each other well. He's extroverted and I'm introverted, but pretend to be extroverted. He can never make a decision and I can always make a decision.<br /><br />He can't cook, but I'm really good at cooking. He loves playing music and I love listening to music. He has a million friends and I wish I had a million friends. I just like to pretend that his friends are my friends too so I don't feel so cheap-ass in the friend department.<br /><br />I don't know why I'm so obsessed with my relationships with other people. I need to fucking get over it because it slowly kills me every day.<br /><br />Like, today at work, a coworker tried to make small talk with me, but I didn't understand that it was one of those conversation where you don't actually say what you mean, so I started responding, but then halfway through realized my coworker was totally not even listening and instead scrolling through her fucking blackberry. And I felt so fucking dumb.<br /><br />It's like what the fuck is wrong with me? I'm socially retarded. Half the time I have no idea what to say to people because I don't know what they want when they talk to me. I can never tell if they are trying to get to know me or if they are so used to asking meaningless questions they do it out of habit.<br /><br />I don't know what they want. I have no interpersonal skills apparently. I'm such a loser I am such a loser.<br /><br />Tomorrow I'm going to help a coworker sandbag his house. I'm hoping this gesture will shine a positive light on me and make people like me.<br /><br />I can't believe my boyfriend turned down a blowjob. What a faggot. He ALWAYS wants a bj and now suddenly his friends are more important.<br /><br />Maybe I have no friends because I'd choose oral sex over them.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-27445610181082031112009-04-04T14:23:00.008-05:002009-04-04T15:07:48.507-05:00My BookI didn't have work all week. It was nice to get some time off and focus on myself for a while. I hit the gym for several hours over the course of the week and started working with a trainer again.<br /><br />I've also been working on my erotic novel I've been writing for a few years. It's 9 chapters long. Each chapter is between 10 and 17 'Microsoft Word' pages long.<br /><br />I'm an avid reader. When I was young I was reading well above grade level, but by the time I'd reached high school, I kind of leveled off. I ran out of good books to read in my school's tiny library. I also had memberships at other libraries, but I kind of stopped going.<br /><br />Anyway, I remember sitting in my grade 12 English class and being so frustrated because no book could hold my attention like it used to. I'd get half way through a novel and be bored of it. Books about "teen issues" were lame and written by middle aged people who didn't seem to know what it was like. Harlequin books were equally as lame and the main characters were too old, or the language it was written in was boring, not sexy. I didn't enjoy science fiction.<br /><br />That never used to happen, me getting bored of a book. Once I started a book I didn't stop until I was through.<br /><br />But something good came out of this situation... an idea popped into my head.<br /><br />Since I didn't enjoy reading any of the books being offered to me, why don't I make my own? I decided I'd write my own novel. I'd write this perfect dream story, especially designed for me. It would include all the things I was interested in: sex, drugs, romance, drama.<br /><br />I actually spent a lot of time preparing to write this book. By the time I'd graduated, I'd created several character bios for all the important characters in my book. I mapped out a sort of family tree so I knew who was connected to each character and how they knew each other.<br /><br />I thought out my basic story line and the message I wanted to get across in my novel. I created a few subplots and made sure I knew where each one was going and how it was going to relate to my my story.<br /><br />I broke down what was going to happen in each chapter and made point form notes to keep me on track.<br /><br />It's been 5 years and I'm still not done. I haven't been working on it continuously, so every time I blow the dust off of it, I have to re-read everything I've written, make changes, and edit it all over again, before adding what happens next. It can take a while considering it just gets longer each time I put it down and pick it up again.<br /><br />It's my baby. When I'm done, I might try and publish it, but I'm not sure how to go about it. I didn't write it to appease a specific genre or to make money. I'd call my novel an "erotic teen romance." All my characters are 17 because I was in high school when I started to create it, but there are graphic sex scenes. I wrote it to please myself, so I guess older female teens would be most interested in reading it too. I posted a few sections online for feedback and was surprised to see that a 12 year old had been reading my work. She sent me a comment saying she liked reading this kind of stuff, but mine was different because the characters were closer to her age and she could relate better.<br /><br />It made me uncomfortable knowing such a young girl was reading such adult material, but I'm glad I could make a connection I guess. Plus, I was the same way at her age, so it's not like it's that abnormal.<br /><br />I was also thinking that I'd just pay to print 50 copies, give them away to my friends and donate some to libraries, that way I could share my story with others and it wouldn't be about money or royalties, or publishers or agencies.<br /><br />How can you put a price on intellectual property, anyway? I'll sign my name at the bottom and that's all the credit I need.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-40289041688340986062009-03-31T12:14:00.004-05:002009-03-31T12:34:52.771-05:00Being MeWhen I'm alone, I like to wear nothing but pajama bottoms and a bra and dance around my house with the music blaring as loud as I think I can put it without being evicted from my apartment.<br /><br />I listen to Franz Ferdinand or Sam Roberts or Korn. Actually I listen to hundreds of bands/artists when I do this. It's different every time. But I can tell you I never listen to dance or club music when I do this. They don't play U2 at the fucking club.<br /><br />I've been doing this for years and years... since I was like 10 probably. Except back when I was a little kid I'd lock myself in my bedroom and dance to backstreet boys haha.<br /><br />One time in high school somebody from my school was driving by my house and she saw me dancing all weird in the living room. (When I dance by myself I am completely uninhibited!) This girl already hated me and made fun of me all the time and this just added more to her ammunition against me.<br /><br />I remember her saying, "Oh she looks like she's having fun" and then throwing her head back and laughing her fat ass off because she thought I was the most retarded person on the planet.<br /><br />I wasn't mortified... I wasn't proud either. I was having fun though. I was having the best time ever. When I dance stupidly by myself I have an awesome time! It's so fun. I just do fucked up dance moves that only my cats witness.<br /><br />I feel like myself.<br /><br />But right now I feel like a loser. I feel like I did in high school: awkward and alone. A bunch of young interns at my work are all best friends for life and I'm envious because I'm not friends with anyone from work. I get along with everyone at work, but I mean, we don't do after work activities together because most of them are married with kids and have grey hairs.<br /><br />They pick each other up from their houses... they go out for dinner... they go out for drinks... they make me fucking sick.<br /><br />The logical thing to do would be to just wedge myself in there and start asking if I can come, or suggest something for us to do... you know, what normal people do.<br /><br />Unfortunately, this is not an option for me. I'm too doubtful and pessimistic. Plus, I never hang out with this people from work and never have a reason to talk to them about work stuff because we don't work together ever.<br /><br />I am pathetic. I know. I'm truly a loser. I'm just like I was in high school. So I'm dancing. I'm dancing my fucking heart right now and singing at the top of my lungs to Robbie Williams, Seal, and You Say Party We Say Die! I'm dancing and I am myself and I feel like myself.<br /><br />I just wish I could let others see me in my natural habitat. I wish I wasn't so afraid to let others see the real me. I guess I just feel like the real me isn't good enough.<br /><br />And is it good enough? I don't know. Maybe. Sometimes. I don't know.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983316361742240350.post-88191022178901795752009-03-29T21:09:00.004-05:002009-03-29T21:19:43.027-05:00Pen PalsI feel like I should write a new post, but I'm unsure what to write about.<br /><br />I've been feeling rather anti-social as of late. I've been sick and worn out. I tire easily and just want to stay at home and write to my pen pals in prison. I want more pen pals. This one pen pal I have in the Louisiana State Pentitentiary is such an amazing person! I love reading letters from him. He's as old as my dad and has much to say about the world. It's very interesting.<br /><br />My other pen pal in Nevada State Prison might masturbate to the picture I sent to him of me... I'm not sure though... he's kind of creepy.<br /><br />I used to have to pen pal in Australia that I was paired with while enrolled in Girl Guides. It was cool at the time. Pen pals were really popular then.<br /><br />With the advent of the internet, there's no need to pen a friend. You can just go into a Spanish chat room or something and chat with whoever and it doesn't cost you anything.<br /><br />I used to do that a lot actually. I'd enter some international chat room and use Babblefish Translater from altavista.com to help me translate. It was cool.<br /><br />I'd love to learn a second language. I'd want to learn French or German. I know a little bit of French from what I learned in elementary school, but I can't form proper sentences or conjugate verbs.<br /><br />After learning French I'd travel abroad and spend the summer in France with a hot beau haha.Suicidalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12574429786454268683noreply@blogger.com2