My neighbors are arguing again. I long for the days of Danny, boring 50-something year-old Danny. Huge, with no love interest to get into a fight with. These folks are young and loud. From their voices, I believe there’s 3 of them sharing a one bedroom, or at least, someone’s staying with them. The women have got into drag outs before and the one attached to the man, explodes at him. On New Year’s Day, there was an argument between two guys up there, and it sounded as though they would come through my ceiling.
I honestly wouldn’t care as long as they don’t kill each other, but for the miserable fact that I’m paranoid they will say something bad about me and I’ll overhear it. Yes, my head is indeed that much up my own ass. I’m sure being a stereotypical Caucasian cat lady gives them a few guffaws, but I live in perpetual fear that someone’s going to cause me trouble for feeding the stray cats. I’m so scared of losing agency over myself.
The horrible experience of living in that nursing home two months is something I haven’t gotten over. Some things are harder to build bridges over. My family and friends abandoning me, having to beg and throw money at my roommates to make them want to take me back, it just doesn’t go away. I need to transcribe in full my diary I kept when I was in the home. It might be amusing. I started to, and then stopped as my roommate situation grew more volatile -I got over that kind of, though it took me about 4 years to remove the one I cared deeply for off my Facebook friend list. Even though I knew he was evil, there was still a part of me that yearned for the good times. I missed him for so long. I was in love with him even though he was mega gay and had something. The period between February 10th through Easter reminds me of what happened during that time in 2012. I wish I didn’t spend my life obsessing that it will happen again.
I caved and burped for the Burp Perv who follows me on YouTube. If he never comments again, I’m not doing it anymore.
I almost went to an OCD support group today, but I got on the wrong bus. I was almost relieved. You can’t be disliked if no one knows you’re alive. There’s a voice in my head, not an actual hallucination as it comes from me, that tells me “Everyone hates you. You won’t make any friends ever. You’re fat and ugly, and you have a shitty personality.” You know me, always big with the Daily Affirmations.
Even on social media: “People think you’re shit. You’re boring as fuck. Stop pretending you’ll ever amount to anything.” My mind,just gallons of charm. Even when I see neighbors: “They all hope you get evicted. They think you’re ‘special.’ Please step on a land mine.” Fun.
Anyway, in case you weren’t here in 2011, this is me reading posts about the death of my mother.
It’s long and cringy, so if you don’t get through it, no worries. I drink, eat, and talk to my phone. Quality content.
She’s my only friend who exists on this side of the screen and I don’t want to lose her. But about 3 days ago, she began ripping me to shreds again just as bad as she’s ever done. She stopped awhile when I was in a deep depression, but now it’s back in full swing just as I was crawling out of my hole. Everything that could possibly get to me:
- Lazy retard
- My videos are moronic
- I’m a ‘train wreck’
- I’m neglectful of the strays
I’m just laying here miserable and worthless. I threw things, screamed, and just had a total meltdown alone. Then my fucking sorry POS self crawled into bed.
She can be so nice, but I know the slightest thing will set her off. For instance, New Year’s Eve. I forgot to tell her which Dollar General I was at because there are two near me. She made me wait two hours to pick me up in a sketchy area and berated the shit out of me while waiting. And when I’m that upset, I meltdown. The cashier at DG knew. She could see that I was bawling outside, loud anguishing sobs I could barely control. My friend came and had us eat at a restaurant there that she knows I don’t like to go to because the manager thinks I’m trash. I really wonder if I have autism because I totally lose my shit sometimes loudly. My therapist doesn’t think so because I crave relationships with other people.
It’s the Dependent Personality Disorder part of me that will take her shit and not lash out back for fear of being completely alone. I don’t want anyone living with me or making my decisions for me unless I ask, but I don’t want to be alone either. I’d have no one. Honestly, if she lost me, she’d be pretty much alone, too.
She says I have no ambition, but in my heart of hearts, I want to write a blog and articles that people read. I want to become known on YouTube and actually be liked for being a “train wreck,” i.e being myself. I want to feel loved. I want to matter just enough to be worth my skin. I want to help someone.
Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, I got a short form disability review. I’m always afraid of losing my benefits, becoming homeless, and dying in an alley. So, I need to call my therapist first thing Monday. I think I need a squeeze in.
Back in 2012, I was in a mental hospital. I guess things could be worse.
I made my BFF (read: only friend offline) angry, and when she gets super mad at me, she lashes out at me verbally. Today’s sin, and it was bad, was I didn’t get a stray cat ready to go to the vet a day earlier than I did. Now the vet doesn’t want to take her since it’s a Friday and she’s a colony cat. BFF won’t tell me if they took Callie in. She has a right to be pissed at me, but I think calling me a ‘lazy retard,’ saying my videos are ‘moronic,’ and not to expect her to spend a minute on me was a bit of an overreaction. Especially since I babysat her cockatiel who she was afraid was sick yesterday. Just saying. I think it will be OK to vent here, because she’s said before, “I don’t read your shit because I know you.”
This video has been up a couple days, and I have a few more to spew out upon the world. Oh, to be unappreciated in one’s own time!
Fun Fact: This was actually seen by someone from one of Walmart’s YouTube channels and they commented.