I should just let him fuck me whenever he wants. Even if I have his words playing in my head over and over. Even though I’m so stressed out that my period actually stopped for two months. I tried to reach out to people. Tried to find a friend in those who were there before but that was a mistake. I go online and type “My boyfriend wants to have sex but I don’t”. Found ONE article in which the answer-er was sympathetic. The rest were all leaning towards compromise. “It’s your obligation as a woman to meet your mans needs.” Go fuck yourself you stupid fucking *****! I’d like to see you fucking compromise while you’re stressed out of your fucking mind and severely depressed. Every fucking time I compromise… I’m talking days I REALLY don’t want to fuck… I always fucking cry myself to sleep or even cry during sex without letting him see. I should just let him use me. I don’t know how to numb myself to this. He wants me to advance him sexually. How the FUCK do I do that when I’m not in the fucking mood. You want it?! Come and fucking get it. I don’t want to do this shit so you need to figure out how to make me want it because your fucking way is not working. Making me feel like shit everyday for not wanting shit. Go fuck some random ***** outside! I DON’T GIVE A FUCKKKKKKKK. Asshole doesn’t masturbate because he “Doesn’t believe that he needs to do that.. that’s your job”…. It’s my fucking “job”. I could leave him. But he wont leave unless I sign over custody of our child. He treats me like I’m some spiteful ***** ready to fuck him over at the drop of a hat. He wants me to sign away my rights as my child’s mother… in exchange for my fucking sanity and not having to spread my legs because it’s my “obligation”. Fuck my ***** or fuck my mind, pretty much. My love for my child… I could never do what he asks… therefore… I have to be his personal prostitute. I’d rather keep my baby… the only thing that gives me joy… than to lose my soul completely. I have to pretend like what I need doesn’t exist, let him fuck me and smile while he does it. Oh and I have to “woo HIM”.
Today I decided that tomorrow, I’ll be taking my 15 year old chihuahua to get euthanized. She can’t stand and soils herself. So I carefully and lovingly clean her and use a small syringe (without the needle) to give her some baby food and her pain medication. The bones sticking out from her sides tell a story I didn’t want to read for a long time. Her inevitable demise.
Today, my thoughts were filled with my 4 year old’s open heart surgery. I am unable to work because he is having major issues in school… They only keep him for 3 hrs every day. I’m his mom and I can’t manage sometimes so I understand what they’re going through. He also likes to accuse people of hitting him, including me and his teacher… but the one that got child protective services involved was him saying that his dad punched him in the stomach and slammed him. My boyfriend (his dad) rough houses with him and has NEVER injured him. It still doesn’t stop the acs worker from telling me that although I have a choice, if I choose incorrectly, I will be taken to court to determine if my child should be removed from my care. I took my son to the doctor the very next day to prove that hes alright. But the acs worker seems to think that he needs extra protection so the initial 30 day investigation has now turned into a 90 day one.
Today I weighed myself and amazingly didn’t give a shit what the scale said.
Today, my boyfriend picked up our son and gave me the bad news that he was horrible in school again. My boyfriend got so mad that he decided to take a walk outside to cool off… for 5 hours. I cried the entire time feeling a potent concoction of loneliness, frustration, and stress. When he came home, he fell asleep for the rest of the evening, leaving me to really get to know those feelings a little better. Then when he finally woke up… he joined me while I was in the bath. We sat silently for a while, then I looked up to realize he was falling asleep. I decided to get out. That woke him… but then he got dressed, asked me to do his hair (he has long hair and a very messed up hand) and went out… again. He’s not coming for a while. I already know. What I don’t know is if I’m okay with that. Sometimes I hate his mother effing guts and want to stab him. But sometimes, I love him. Fuck it all.
Today was not a very good day for me. Let alone the days that have passed this year. I want to get better but I don’t know how. People can give me all the advice in the world but it means nothing if I can’t start. I’ve been feeling a very disturbing feeling that nothing is real. Like I’m walking around in a dream. I really hope I can wake up soon.
I’ve been wondering what you all (out there in cyberspace) consider to be the answer to your problems. I know there are some out there who feel there is no hope at all and they should just end it all. You could be sitting in your room right now about to do some thing you can’t take back. So why not give this a thought? What would help you?
I once attended Job Corps in my early twenties. I found that having EVERY THING planned out for me really helped me develop a routine that I couldn’t/can’t do on my own. It’s been years since I’ve been there but for months after attending there, I was much more active in keeping a clean environment and actually getting myself to move. My mind constantly runs on dark thoughts and feelings of emptiness so when every thing was done for me, I didn’t have to think much about what I was supposed to do and just followed a list.
Wake up at 6 AM
Fix the bed
Complete the chore assigned to me on that day
Head to school
Complete another list of tasks pertaining to the trade I was in (I didn’t do too well with this)
After school go back to the dorm and do what ever the heck you wanted.
Simple things. My JC center was in the middle of the woods and QUITE beautiful. So my closest friend and I would sneak off campus deep into the woods to smoke some marjie and meditate. It was the most peaceful and wonderful experience that I wish I could experience again. We had VERY limited communication with the outside world so the campus was practically life.
I didn’t complete my time there. I had an altercation with a young lady that I tried to help… but it blew up in my face some how and I pretty much let my emotions get the best of me, so I left. That was a mistake. I miss that life. And I’m sure if I had continued, it would have probably helped me get some where much farther than I am now.
Would you try to die without dying? Escape some where beautiful and secluded, where every thing is planned for you and all you have to do is follow? Leave behind every thing and every one you knew until you could feel yourself coming alive again?
A lot of the stress I experience comes from the people around me and their perceptions of me. I don’t care what anyone says, a lifetime of being judged can either turn you into someone who cares too much or someone who cares too little. Both are detrimental.
How would you feel to go some where, where every one suffered more or less the same? People who understand your plight in every way and wont tell you that you’re just a lazy waste of life… or have assumptions of who you are or who you’re suppose to be?
How would you feel if this place was staffed with people who DO NOT think pills are the answer and are there for you? Filled with classes ranging different subjects from building your drive to learning how to feed your body and soul?
What is YOUR cure??
Every one around me seems to be dancing and having a good time and I’m here fumbling to the beat like a love struck zombie. I don’t know when this started becoming normal to me. When did I begin feeling so rejected? Was it when I was a teen and my mother just some how knew I’d be a loser? At least she gave me options to how low I could possibly go on that scale and I’m… proud… to say that I am NOT a heroin addict. IN YOUR FACE MOTHER!
Every time I’m outside, I look around and feel this overwhelming feeling that nothing is real. I often find myself fantasizing different ways I could possibly die as I walk through these grey and brown streets. I wonder how many can say they’ve died a thousand times and lived to tell the tale?
A handful of years ago, I met some one. I called him my personal superman. It always felt like he’d come to my rescue whenever I needed him. Whenever my mother berated me, he’d be there to shit on her words. If I needed a push, it would be his gentle hands providing that nudge. It’s different now. That gentleness became impatience and that nudge became an angry shove. My sexual desires have died along with the rest of who I use to be. But God forbid I tell him I’m not in the mood. Those are some dangerous words in my house. How could I possibly be in the mood when the same hateful words I’d hear from my mother are now coming from him? I often find myself staring at the ceiling and just watch my world move up and down, up and down until it’s over, how ever long it may take, just to feel like I died a little more. It feels downright cruel whenever someone asks anything of me. I just want to stay in my room and never come out but I have responsibilities. So I go out with my hair that I haven’t washed in two weeks (or more) in a very tangled bun, my clothes that I’ve had since before my weight gain, cute… and tackle on the day the best way that I can. I’ve developed an extremely unhealthy eating pattern pretty much consisting of not eating at all throughout the day and ravaging what ever I can find at night. A few nights ago I changed my mind about having sex with my “significant other”…. because I had overeaten and couldn’t perform in that condition. He became upset and was going to go out and hang with MY old friends. I called him disgusting for it. “You’re just gonna leave because we’re not having sex? Can’t you just stay with me and hold me??? No?? You’re disgusting.”. This is where the fun begins. He decided to stay. I tried to go to sleep but he began to shake the bed, purposely putting his foot on some thing that made a loud creaking noise. This went on for a couple of hours as far as I could tell. I was desperately trying to fall asleep because I had to get up at 7 AM to prepare our child for school. It was around 2 AM when it began. At some point, while it was still dark outside, he turned on the TV. I ignored it as best as I could. I thought to myself, “If he wants to get a reaction, I’m not giving it.” Then he turned off the TV and began blasting some thing on his REALLY loud phone. I politely asked him to lower it. He mocked me as a truck went by “Oh I’m sorry let me lower the volume on that truck too since it’s soo loud.”. I felt my heart sink as I realized that my day was going to consist of this. I cried a little before going to sleep, only to wake up an hour later to do what I had to do. He continued attacking me emotionally the entire day until he left to go to work… but for some reason… the one thing that sticks out in my mind the most was his interpretation of me with what I could only describe as a “fat voice”. Once he felt better, he apologized to me… as if I gave a crap about that. I’ve been crying to myself ever since. After all that though… today he said “Hi” as we were laying in bed watching Supernatural and I knew what it meant… So I got up and took off my underwear and just let it happen. Being careful that I didn’t let him see me cry.
I don’t know who I am today. I know who I use to be. I miss her. Her smile and determination. Her drive and passion. She was unchained. Unbound. Lust filled but just enough to reach the brim of her being. She use to have sex with strangers and kiss them goodbye like a long sentence spoken in one breath. And despite that she was classy with a twist. No one could tell her how to live. Her eyes filled with energy that radiated to those around her. Her heart attracting those who needed a little adventure and a lot of acceptance of things they didn’t understand. Her naivety. Unbeknownst to her, the future which she was wandering towards would serve only one purpose. To break her. RIP her wings and break her rose colored shades. Slowly eat her alive. All the options and she chose to love the wrong one. She chose not to love herself and instead give her love to some one else. She chose not to get to know herself and thrust forward into this hard knock life prematurely. Without need. Only going with her flow down the wrong current never realizing that the stream was now leading her to a bottomless waterfall. It’s what happens when you live with your heart open and your eyes closed. This disastrous imbalance of things…. That girl could dream a dream though. They were so vivid, colorful and plentiful. Today I dream the same dream over and over again, only it’s a nightmare now. It’s one where there’s a veil separating me from my former self and all I need to do is reach out and touch her. It always ends in unforgiving darkness as I realize that I’m imprisoned. Chained and weighed down by the mighty unrelenting force of my own mind. A punishment for never appreciating it.