Dependance, Paranoia, and Bears Oh My!

3 Comments

As you may have noticed of late my brain is really glitching up, like I’m trying to connect broadband internet when my brain runs on Windows 95. Every time I feel happy, i’m readying myself for the inevitable downward turn. Every time I think someone could truly like me for me, my brain says it won’t last. The last time I saw my therapist, she even told me I try to appear normal and hide just how bad my issues are. Can you imagine how much fun that would be to tell anyone I’m with, just what my brain is telling me:

I hear my neighbors talking, so they may be talking about narcing me out to my landlady, who, by the way, thinks i’m M.R.

I’m going to the mailbox. Hope there’s nothing in there that spells out I’m about to be homeless and penniless.

I think the clerk in the store is watching me so I don’t steal something.

If you lose something I’m afraid you’l think I stole it.

If I’m imperfect I think you won’t like me.

If you’re mad at me i shut down completely and think that you’ll never forgive me and I will be alone forever or should just drop dead.

3 Comments

I know my blog has been about as fun to read as being stabbed with a rusty needle, being devoured by characters from Twilight, and drowning in a bucket of stale urine. Today is no exception. I feel like giving up. Everything is going to hell. Jesus might have flown out of this earth, but I’m going to be stuck here or wind up in a home somewhere. I always fail. Always.

3 Comments

I wish I was somewhere where I could never disappoint anyone again. It seems no matter what I do or how hard I try nothing I do is right. Ever.

5th blogoversary

1 Comment

Persevere bitches! !!! I almost forgot today was my fifth blogoversary. Time flies when you mull over how life blows for five. fucking. years. But seriously I love you all, and hopefully one day I’ll stop having a pity party with dumpster dive cake.  Thanks!

No Offense, but….

Leave a comment

No offense, but,
I’m about to tell you
how you are nothing,
Worthless and dim, 
How I must enunciate  syllables,
Your Neanderthal brain is too slim.

No Offense, but, I told you not to take offense!
Its not my problem you shed a tear, when I said I can’t talk to you as an equal, your mind is just too dense! 
Just remember, though,no offense! No Offense!

“None taken.”

(Written for an online friend of mine)

3 Comments

Ever since I was a small child, people have tried to change who I am, most of all myself. At age 7, I remember the praying over and over again for Jesus to come into my heart. Not just to avoid certain eternity in hell, but that if He were really in my heart, I could be normal and perfect too. At age 7, I who was already preoccupied with choking to death and dying of a heart attack thanks to TV, believed Jesus would live inside my heart. In exchange for my free fibrillating condo,  He’d give me shelter in heaven when He set the world alight and make whatever about me that made people dislike me go away.  Ms. Stewart, my teacher would say with certainty that “you’ll be fine,” instead of, “Well, just keep praying about it. Only Jesus really knows…”
Jesus in her heart didn’t stop her from being sadistic and delighting in humiliating me in front of other kids and teachers, or threatening me with her goddamn paddle.

People who claim religion and wear it upon their sleeves are often sadistic and narcissistic, and make everyone else weaker than them suffer. I believe Jesus knows what I mean.

I still pray for God to come into my heart and make me perfect or at least average. There’s just something about me, you know? It’s not so much religosity anymore,  but the need to be liked.

What is it about me that at the age of five, my neighbor saw me choking and giggled? When my throat muscles got the lime candy up and I spat it into the grass, he said “Now look what you did. Get back in the house now.” When I told my mother about it years later, she thought it must have been a dream. There was also some debate among therapists as to what happened when I accidently saw his penis when I was four, but that really doesn’t matter now.
There’s just something that emanates from me that people see as wrong, worthless, needs to be obliterated.
As a teenager, they triedto make me an adult, but I had exiled myself from everyone for two years homeschooling, so I acted younger because I hadn’t been around anyone. My highschool principal’s congratulations for my diploma was “Well you’re done.”
Fast forward to Aging Twink, hero of my mom’s passing. That should have killed me.
With this mark on me how will I ever measure up for anyone?  I will just dissapoint anyone who remotely cares about me from now to eternity.  I am so depressed.

My Septic Self

1 Comment

When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window and gives you a tub of butter to slide your fat ass through.  I feel like I’m having doors shut and windows open left and right, but somehow my massive body can’t pull through them.  One too many Burger King BOGO Whoppers I guess. The truth is that the God who watches over sparrows forgot to kill me the day my usefulness ran out, which was somewhere around 7 am September 13, 2011. I tried to rectify this about three years ago, but it was a lame attempt, and God, like everyone else said, “I don’t want you.” I really don’t know how I survived my life after the attempt, but I did.

What have I become? A filthy, disgusting government mooch. A sifter purveyor  of garbage.  A hoarder is worse than being a whore in most people’s estimation. If I’m not a financial mooch of people, I’m an emotional one. I want so much to be loved, but all I leave is a path of destruction in my wake. I’m too much of a pussy to attempt suicide again. Anything painless is usually fruitless, and I’m too much of a wuss to jump off a bridge  and have my ribs skewer my lungs. I don’t want physical pain, and the fear of physical pain inherent in humans is enough to drown out the pain of sheer worthlessness. I deserve a painful death. I deserve to die the way my mother did,  to have my body become septic and reject me. That is justice.  

I wish the worthless feeling would go away. I know everyone thinks I’m worthless. The other day social services came to help me clean up my apartment so I won’t get evicted. One woman found my ‘fries with that ‘ college degree.’ Now that’s funny.

Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,539 other followers