You Don’t Care, You Never Did. You Never Did. You Never Did. I Always Let Myself Forget. What A Mockery.

death, dying, and unconscious sex;

I leaned over the boiling oil at work yesterday and suddenly I wanted to be submerged in it.

Sometimes people ask me why I get so unhappy.  I don’t know.  I just know that I do.  Even on some the days I take my medicine correctly.  Of course it’s not as bad as it normally would be, without the medicine but I still find myself wanting eternal sleep.  It’s a shame relieving yourself of this seemingly unpleasant life is a sin.  I would rather not go to hell.  So, for now, I’ll stay here.  It seems praying for death all these years hasn’t worked.  I don’t know why I still try.  The last time was less than a month ago.  Bravo fuck-up!

As a younger girl I used to think about how it seemed to me that a guy couldnt possibly have sex with an unconscious girl and live with himself.  Today I have been informed that they are just fine with it.  That bastard.  He told me he would never do that to me.  I swear it didn’t happen.  I would remember that.  Is he lying?  Or did I some how convince myself so well that night that it didn’t happen before sobering up that I have no memory of it?  It didn’t happen.  It couldn’t have. If so, that makes twice now.  Sixteen, and eighteen, who would’ve thought that would happen to me?  I am too strong for this shit.

BASTARD.

Please, what’s said on tumblr is never meant to be repeated.

“Forgive yourself for the decisions you have made, the ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night.”

— Sarah Kay (via wordsnquotes)

wash it all away

I put my Galaxy S4 in the washing machine about a week ago. Clearly, it was an accident. I was ten kinds of fucked up over it. My parents got me this expensive phone for Christmas because they trusted me, they knew I wouldn’t pawn it like I have everything else in my life. It was the only thing I have that held any value. My mother and I took it to two different cell phone repair stores. Last night we had to give up and accept that the Galaxy was gone for good. It was time to let the grieving process begin but then low and behold my mother bought me another phone right there on the spot for my birthday! I love it. I love her, I love my family. I’m so blessed. Now, there’s more. I think. As the days go by I get more and more comfortable with who and where I am. That’s beautiful. My intensive out patient classes are getting to be more bearable. I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’m just not going to be allowed to work in a restaurant so I best get out there and do something because I can’t continue to let my parents pay for it all. Jess is Jess. I love him, he loves me. We’re trying to work it out where we can see one another more often. He obviously doesn’t handle life very well without me. Oh, wait. You don’t know. I’m too proud to even write it out for you. Why is it that I always get along with the guys better? I went out with a few the other night. One was weary because we’re not really supposed to hang out with other people in our program but by the end he said I was like one of the guys and okay to be brought out like that. Why, thank you, that’s really what I was looking for, your approval ha. No. It still felt nice I guess. Is it wrong to enjoy attention? There is this guy that pretended to be all brotherly at the convention and I found yesterday he’s been telling everyone that he just wanted to fuck me. Now that, I don’t appreciate. I was seeing red last night after being told about it. There was more said of course to make me so angry. I did the right thing, though. I was given that information in confidence so it was not my place to take care of it. I just know that I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he knows that I’m not going for that shit. Even talking about it fuck with me. I can’t count how many times that message has been delivered to me. That’s what’s sick about it. What do I do to attract that nasty and attention. You know, the wrong kind of attention. To be honest, I think it’s because men see and talk to me then automatically think I can be easily manipulated or taken advantage of. And I’ll give them that, that’s usually the case. However, I’m so oblivious to it when they’re doing it that they don’t really get the chance to take that vantage. Then I find out like this, typically from another guy trying to sneak his way into my pants. It’s sad really. Don’t pay me a compliment because I’ll never take you serious. Believing guys like that has helped get me to the torn to shit emotional state that I live in now. Thank you baby, thank you so much. I sound like I’m all negative. I’m not. I just need to make these things clear to myself, you know? When it’s written down it’s always easier to understand, to see what I’m doing wrong or right in their eyes, apparently. We’re going to play volleyball tonight. He will be there and so will he and so will he. Confusing, I know. We’ll see how it goes. It cant be that bad. Right?

“There is always something left to love.”

— Lorraine Hansberry, A Raisin in the Sun

changes

Everything is changing. I have a new job. I’m a server at a restaurant called The Aquarium. So far, I love it. I’m making double the amount of money I was making at El Chico and we’re in slow season so it’ll only get better. The tables all surround this 200,000 gallon tank full of sharks, eels, sting rays, and numerous other animals. It’s strange, though. When I started at El Chico my entire focus was on staying clean. Every day was a struggle. I remember telling myself constantly, “Just don’t use today, maybe tomorrow will be different.” Now, I’m a bit more emotionally secure so staying clean daily isn’t as much as a struggle. Therefore, starting a new job I have found new struggles. None of these strangers are going to be impressed by how long I’ve stayed clean. They don’t care that I pay my bills on time. They’re not surpised that I attend my siblings birthday parties. These are all normal things, that normal people do every day. So what do I have to offer then? I’m no genius, I’m no beauty queen, and I’m certainly no athlete. I know there is nothing wrong with me. I’m just finding it hard to start conversations and make friends. I’ve only been there two weeks, so I’m sure it’ll get better. I just worry, often. Next, I start school on Tuesday. I know I am capable of doing well, I just wonder how hard that is going to be exactly. No pills, no sleeping with professors. Just me, honestly trying my best to do this right. It’s just an odd concept that I’m having to adapt to. Honesty, for one. Being a responsible member of society, etc. I’ll be fine. I just need to pray more and think less. Now, my relationship is still going wonderful, I think. He is struggling right now. His work is stressing him out as well as the mother of his son. It’s just an odd feeling. While things are changing for me, I’m at the best I’ve been emotionally. I’m aware of my issues and taking steps to fix them. For once, I’m finding myself telling him that everything is going to be all right. For the first 18 months of our relationship it’s been the other way around. I’m willing to provide him with the same support he’s given me all this time but I’m just not sure if I’ll be any good at it. I love what we have and I’m willing to work at it, I just hope I don’t make it worse. I’m on my 6th step. I was fully aware of all my character defects a few months ago, but now that I’m living right they don’t seem so obvious anymore. So, I’m wondering what are they and how do I find them? It’s date night, so that’s all for now.

What is it like to have a best friend?

I’ve wondered that my entire life. It appears I expect too much. My best friend’s exhusband was just released from jail. She’s back hanging on his every word which means I’m lucky to get a text back. I’m used to it by now. He leaves: she’s mine. He comes back: he’s hers. My sponsor says I’m begin selfish about the entire situation. I’ve cried with her over how much of a shitbag he is for years now. I feel it’s only normal for me to grow tired of this cycle. When I analyze why I feel such a resentment towards his release, I do find that it’s rooted in jealousy. Jealous, at its core, is a selfish emotion. Great. I’m selfish. Now, what? Why do I require so much attention? Mary Ann didn’t invite me out tonight or last night. Kennie leigh didn’t tell me she was going to Chicago. Why does that make me feel like I’m not good enough? One might argue that after I learn to love myself I won’t need so many people to prove to me that they love me. Sure. I’ll buy that. But why then, after three and a half years of step work, prayer, and meetings, do I still feel as alone as I did from the start? I have a theory, one the usually proves true. I’ll start my period next week. Wild emotions always show their colors the week before my period. So much so, that I can’t remember how I felt before. Did Maryann’s absence of an invitation bother me last week? I’m honestly not sure. That’s what’s so bizzare about mental illness, if that’s what this is. I heard in a meeting Thursday that the most insidious characteristic of the disease of addiction is its ability to convince you you’re not sick. When you have cancer, your white blood cell count proves your sick. The weakness in your limbs reminds you constantly that you need medication. Addiction turns a bad day into a bad life in an instance. After an hour, you’ve convinced yourself that you were never sick to begin with, you’re just equipped with faulty machinery that will never function properly, despite the maintenance. On contraire, the truth is cancer patients need chemotherapy, and addicts need one another.

Tomorrow, or maybe next week, I’ll find humor in how hopeless I’m feeling right now, but what do I do in the mean time? Hang on, of course. Don’t use. That’s not even on the radar. Pray, always. I just want a group of people that are going to surround me for years to come, people that never make me question their love for me, people that rejoice and cry with me, people that don’t hurt me. Maybe, that’s the answer! Maybe that doesn’t exist. If I am asking for people who provide divine friendship, I’m not really asking for people, am I?

This is what I’ve missed about an online journal. Sometimes, I’m too tired or lazy to go sit under a lamp and put pencil to paper. It’s not often that I’m too lazy to stare at my phone. Here I am, laying next to husband of 20 days, in a dark bedroom, at 11pm, pouring my heart out to God, myself, and whoever else cares to listen.

How intriguing! That last sentence alone gave me enough gratitude to lift my chin from the dust. Even if it only lasts a moment, I’m reminded of how blessed I am. My bed is so comfortable. There’s a clock sitting on my dresser so I can tell the time at all hours of the night. That’s important, you see, because for a long time, it didn’t matter what the time was. As a matter of fact there were only two times in my previous life. If I was well, it was time to scheme money for when I inevitably became dope sick. If I was sick, it was time cop dope. It didn’t matter if the sun was out or not. It didn’t matter if I had money or not. It didn’t matter if I had been asleep yet. There was never enough daylight, money, or sleep to make up for the way I was living my life.

There’s my answer. It doesn’t matter what it feels like to have a best friend. That’s not why I’m here. I’m here to make this world a better place. I don’t need a best friend to do that. I need gratitude and God. As long as I have that, I’ve received more than I was promised. The promise Narcotics Anonymous gave me was that I would have freedom from active addiction. That’s it. It doesn’t matter if I get into nursing school. It doesn’t matter if I’m respected. That’s not what I’m after. All I ever dreamed for was the desire to live. Tonight, I have so much more than that.

“Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?”

— Friedrich Nietzsche, Good and Evil

We went cliff diving today, or in my case cliff flipping (because I can’t dive for shit). Then we met up with a friend and went tubing! I’m bruised and scratched but I haven’t had that much fun in years, it seems.

ketchup

I haven’t written in a while.  I’ve been to busy being a wild child, apparently.  I’ve been flying, having a few drinks, and sniffling.  I say that as discretely as I can just incase my tumblr begins to get visitors. 

I recently discovered I do not need to take more than two shots of vodka.  I threw up once after three, and I threw up so many times I can’t count when I took four.  I had so much fun but I’m not all that sure it was worth all the getting sick.  I had my first drunken video taken of me Saturday.  I didn’t even remebmer it.  I just heard about it.  It was pretty funny.  I kept apologizing for getting so wasted, saying I promise I didn’t mean for it to get this far.  Then I fell back words, sat back up and said, “let’s get laid!"  It was really funny.  I didn’t like being so confused and sick in the morning.  And I had plans of revenge that night but I got to wasted to carry them out.  Luckily I am pretty sure now that I will have another few chances. 

I could pay attention in this class but to be honest I really don’t think it would help me.  Reading the chapter myself is much more sufficient.  This teacher is about 75 years old and admitted that he’s only teaching again to see if he can do it.  It’s becominf obvious that his retirement, God bless him,

But come to think of it I do need to study for my next class, bye.