Broken

Aug. 23rd, 2007 04:07 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Someone sent me a link to this website. There, I found a link to their blog. Since it won't let me just copy and paste a link for you guys, here's the text (it's long as fuck, but very poetic, and it reads fast).

Holy shit, Batman, You Write Like a Poet! )

...

I've been in a bad state ever since I read that. I've been crying my eyes out, and the only thing I could think to say was jumbled and disjointed, so I posted it as a reply in spite of itself:

Where were the people like you? Where do you grow, that I might find you? My Christians called me a selfish, sick whore, one called me a dog and a pig, my campus minister said he didn't want new people coming into the church to see me, my pastor said my shyness was because of pride and if I wanted to be prideful I could leave his church, my Christian treatment center drugged me with Haldol and Lithium and held me down and stripped me while they were reciting Bible verses and telling me they knew I was evil because God said we know people by their fruits (I blacked out after that, I don't remember the rest). I spent eight years of my life devoted, on my knees, wailing and weeping and pleading with God to show Himself to me and speak through me and heal whatever sickness was wrong in me that made me into something so vile and unlovable. I helped build five houses for homeless people in Mexico, I gave my money and my time and in the end all I was to these people was a bottle of pills, a pariah, something shameful that they wanted to hide. The church took my dignity and my spirit and whatever I'd managed to grow after living in abuse and death and pain for sixteen years and they shattered it into a million pieces in the mud.

I'm alive now (barely) and the hatred they covered me with in the name of love is mostly subsiding. I'm never stepping foot inside a church again as long as I live, because whatever God they bow their knees and pray to, I don't want to serve Him. Ever. Where are the people like you? They sure as h*ll don't exist around here. Now I talk with kids and teens and I tell them they can survive abuse and I listen to them when they cry, but I'm afraid for them, I'm terrified they will encounter the world I did when I tried to find God inside the walls of every church I could. And it's still on, I still get emails saying I'm not serving Christ and instead I'm serving Satan by watching horror movies (nothing on film could match the horror I've lived through, believe me). Someone sent me this link and I read your page and it makes me angry, it makes me want to throw glass and break things and scream until I've got no voice left because this love you talk about is the same love I heard preached and yelled and screamed into my face for eight years and it did nothing but cripple me farther. I'm haunted by the demons that were cast INTO my soul in those days, I can't get them out, I can drink myself into a stupor and I vomit up nothing but bile, I can carve my arms raw and bleed out nothing but blood, those demons are here to stay. If I thought for one moment that God's love was bigger than this and that it could make me feel for even a SECOND that I was free in the way you describe, I'd run to Him. But the terror and the shame and the darkness disguised as light keep me away because they're all I've ever known of the Christian God. For all you people talk about love and make it sound real, people like me who want nothing more than to "dance in white dresses" find nothing but condemnation behind the walls of your cathedrals. But then I read this and I'm reminded all over again how much I long for that love and how much I searched for it, for years, with blood sweat and tears. If it's real...I never saw it. And it's all I ever wanted. Ever.

I wish you the best, don't take this as me condemning you in any way, I appreciate your passion and your words, but they stir up the pain and anguish that hides behind the empty shell that was once my heart, and that raises hackles I didn't even know I had. Don't let anybody ever kill that passion, and keep being real. Just...I wish I could believe what you say, I wish it with everything within me that CAN still wish. And I can't see the screen through my tears anymore, so I'll stop now. I'm sorry.

...

I miss Torrey and Vincent. I love John's kids.

...

I'm not doing so well.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (accepted)
Panic attacks are fun. Wheee! I've been having one since last night (coupled with the migraine I've been having for the last 5 days, things are going GREAT in Lillianland). I don't know what to do. Well, that's not totally true, there are some self-destructive things I could do but I'm trying not to think like that ad wandering around in circles, pacing, rocking back and forth, and I can't breathe.

It's surreal to feel like this.

Holy CRAP this is long...read at your own risk )

But anyway, this rant isn't really about anything. I just...I remember this feeling. Back in my pillhead days in High School, my teachers were a big encouragement to me with their stories of how God loved me and blah blah blah, and they were the only people who listened to my stories and thought what had happened to me was wrong (which was a new feeling for me). But now that fervor, explaining to me how the things I do are evil because they don't lead people to Christ, it reminds me of why I left in the first place and it's a stigma I don't need. It's funny though, I suppose the thousands of years of tradition behind the church seem to give it authority (at least in my head) when they tell me something I'm doing is wrong and evil, and in the past I've wanted that meaning so much that I believed what they said even though it went against my experience and my nature. I know I'm freer now that I admit and acknowledge that, but it still pulls at me sometimes, seeing those people and their jobs and friendships and marriages and kids and lives, and when they look at MY life and say "you're like this because you're sinning" it will always ring true for me, even when it shouldn't. Because I'll always be able to look at my life, on days like yesterday and today when all I want is to sit and watch one of my violent torture and rape scenes because I know it's the only thing that will calm me down and knowing that, I'll be able to see the shadow of what they tell me is crazy and evil in me.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Mandy tried to kill herself. She says she's doing ok now, but I don't know if it's true or if she'll learn anything from this or go back to her old self again.

I got a care package last night. Reba, you are awesome. Thank you.

This isn't directed at one person or even at a specific person, so please don't feel attacked. This is about sharing in general, not anyone in particular, and I need to say it. )

Music makes everything better:

edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (idontcare)
59%

Mingle2 - Free Online Dating



Well that's good to know. Come on, don't you watch the movies? Just because someone has never fired a gun before doesn't mean they won't survive. Usually that's the heronie of the movie, the one who learns to adapt and have a character arc in the midst of a zombie apocolypse.

Plus all this: So...John called me this morning. Wonder why? He didn't leave a message and didn't answer when I called back. None of my friends ever leave fucking messages, it's so annoying. So of course, in retaliation, I didn't leave him a message when I called back. It's a vicious circle. :-p

Went swimming and then skinny dipping with my friend Jen last night and her harem of guys from D&D (Seth, Josh, her brother Chris, and her non-brother Chris). No comments about D&D geeks, guys, they're all pretty hot. Let's do away with the stereotypes, ok?) It was fun. I wish more people had come, but I called everyone I knew who might conceivably come and no luck.

My throat feels better. As does the migraine from hell I had last night. I went to the store, got enough shit to make 6 batches of tacos (and they're awesome, at least today's were) and I also went back and bought some shampoo and soap and such, so now I smell really good after my shower. Mmmm, $2 pantene from Walmart.

Everyone should go check this out: http://www.43things.com/person/edwardnortonfan It contains much goal-setting from me, plus some ranting on things I want to do (namely a shorter rant about my spiritual journey as of late). IT's interesting. Plus if we all join we can all cheer each other on toward our goals! Won't that be nice? :-p

It was fun blogging about zombies yesterday. Thanks to everyone who participated. You made the day a lot more fun. I'm glad to be wth you, now, at the end of all things.
edgarallenfrog: (pissed off)
Yeah...yeah. This is Lillian, this is Lillian on drugs (I wish), any questions? )

Good GOD I ramble a lot. I'm sorry, guys. I apologize. At least I used a cut...right? I'm cool, right? :-p
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (other hot guy)
I'm going to bear my soul a little here (quiet, you in the back. I can do whatever I want, it's my journal). I've talked with some friends over Instant Messenger (even though I'm always nervous about talking to my friend Rachel online because she's smarter than me and I worry about sounding stupid or weird or something...) and they have convinced me to come here and say something that I just realized I probably won't be able to say, because I'm stupidly scared to say it. Stupid, it is. I talk about every fucking thing in the universe here, and yet I'm TERRIFIED someone will judge me (or everyone will) or people won't care or won't realize why this is a big deal to me.

And I get that. I didn't think it was a big deal. Or rather, I didn't think it was a big deal FOR ME because I figured this was just an abstract concept and it wouldn't really matter in my daily life. But now my body and mind have ganged up on me to inform me that this is indeed a BIG DEAL (TM) and that it will have some big impact on my life sometime in some way, so I feel the need to talk to someone about it...and surprise, there's no one here I can talk to about it. My friends would freak out, there are no groups I could go join (at least not at this moment in time) and so I find myself talking to the wall about it (ah faithful wall, you always listen to me without telling me what to do or judging me, you remain steadfast and true and plastery).

But alas, the wall is not enough for me. And I don't know what I hope to accomplish with this, but somehow I will


somehow I will ramble for an hour without saying anything. I'm good at that.

How do you segue into this? I don't think you can.

Grr.

Ok, this is getting stupid (and annoying, and starting to resemble bad poetry at best and the ramblings of a 12 year old AOL user at worst (no offense to 12 year old AOL users, but I am old and decrepit and should be mature and smart enough to just say what I mean without putting my friend's list through this excruciating pain).

I think I'm bisexual.

Ok, no. I don't "think" I am, I know I am. What I don't know is what to do now that I've discovered this VERY IMPORTANT (TM) thing about myself.

I could say more (and the peasants wept) but I won't (and the weeping turned to rejoicing). Maybe tomorrow. Gah.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
There are a lot of things I'm not updating about (here is where everyone on my flist says "Jesus, there's MORE?!?!") because I'm afraid of being judged.

Ok, that was emo. And not really true. I'm not afraid I'll be judged, I just don't know how to form my thoughts into a coherent journal entry (here is where everyone on my flist says "and this has stopped you before...?") so I'm not saying it. But I kind of want to...somehow...maybe...um, yeah.

I applied for three more jobs today. I even had an interview at Pizza King with the owner, and he said that 6 months wasn't long enough to really LEARN how to make pizza, and I should have known better than to apply and waste his time. He was a real sweetheart.

At least I tried, but I'm getting so tired of hoping for things and working for things and having people tell me I'm not trying hard enough (ok...it happened this week and it really hurt me a lot...what else am I supposed to do that I'm not doing?)

I don't know. There's just a lot going on right now that I don't know how to handle and I don't need anything else to deal with on top of it, but some things have been rearing their heads anyway...sigh.

I'm tired.


Ok...has anyone else...um...realized things about themselves...never mind, I can't be vague. It won't make sense (here is where everyone on my flist says "Right, because you always make perfect sense..." man, you guys are mean). :-p

BLAGH.

Dani? plz move 2 br 4 awile kthxbi
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (empty wallet)
Filled out more applications today. Picked up an application for assistance from the Department of Human Services and have an appointment tomorrow at 8:30 AM to see if they can help me with medical care, rent, food stamps...anything. Also tomorrow have to call back and follow up with lawyers to get a "Cease and Desist" order to keep Papa John's from slandering me all over town. I checked with the lawyer, and what they have now consists of evidence that might look bad for me but it also looks bad for anyone who touched the till during the shifts when the money disappeared, and I know it looks bad for me but since I know I'm innocent but can't prove it and Michigan is an "At Will Hire" state, I can't do anything about the fact that they fired me, but I can take steps to prevent them from discussing the details of the termination the way they have been doing. I'll take that...I can't make anyone believe my side of the story, especially since I know no one will be stupid enough to steal again now that someone got fired for it, but I CAN try and make sure I get another job...I was on the phone with Legal Aid and Lawyers from Grand Rapids for hours today and tomorrow will be no different. Then I have to go to the apartment and work out with them what rent will be since I only have $286 to my name right now.

Tonight...I'll wait until 3rd shift at Crankers (when I actually still HAVE a good name) and ask about a job there. Then I'll try to sleep...try not to freak out and cry and hang myself.

It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok It will be ok
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
My friend Mandy gave a guy my AIM today because he asked her if she'd give him head and she said no but she told him I probably would.

My friends rule sometimes.

Some of my friends know this TMI about me...I've always been obsessed with giving head, it's something I always wanted to do. And when John and I were together, I discovered that I'm really good at it.

And you know, there's nothing I really want more right now than to just give in and do this guy. I don't care about anything right now. Kmart's hiring manager isn't going to be until Monday, and that's when I talk to my apartment manager. So yeah, making pland and hunting for a job and I'm setting these things up, but in all honesty I'm TIRED OF FIGHTING. I've fought for every single thing I've ever gotten in life. I fought to survive every step, every second of every day. I'm so tired right now. Fuck waking up tomorrow and regretting anything I've done or anyone I've done, I just want to feel something that feels GOOD.

And that's it, I'm horny and I just want to feel right now. But what did I do? I said no. Why? I could do it, I could get with this guy, I don't even care right now. I just prayed (and I don't do that often anymore) but I was honest. I admitted to God that every chance I get to do the right thing, I do the wrong thing, but I want to survive so bad that even if I TRIED to kill myself I would fight to live. I learned this years ago. And it doesn't HELP, it doesn't make my life good, it doesn't get me hope or happiness or people who care about me. But I survive anyway on autopilot because something in me fights for it. There have been so many times in my life that I'v pleaded with God to help me in spite of my sins if I just made the RIGHT decision. I don't even know what that means for me now that I'm not a Christian. I don't even know what to do and I'm so tired of having to fight and kick and scream and struggle to do everything and still have the whole world turn to shit on me no matter how hard I believe I've gotten to a place where I'm safe.

I'm watching the show "Intervention" on A&E rght now, and it's the most fucking depressing show I've ever seen, and I should feel empathy for the people on the show, but I keep yelling at them because they have jobs and families and places to stay. This girl's whole family got together and paid for her to go to treatment and they offered it to her and she sat there rolling her eyes on camera and I just wanted to shoot her. Dammit. When I was a kid I had to stay alert every day because I never knew when I was going to do or say something that would cause me to be beaten. Every move I made was survival. And now I've taught myself to read and write, I've moved out, I've gotten a GED, I worked my ass off in college and graduated with a 4.0, I've been homeles twice but I always managed to get a job, I trusted someone and gave him my ody and my life (and he gave it back because he didn't want it) but I took steps, got myself an apartment...and now this. WHY? Jesus. Why can't something go RIGHT for once? I'm so tired of living like this. I want to lose whatever is left of myself in sex and drugs and blood and disappear. But I won't let myself do that, and it annoys me. I wish I could do something...I'm just sitting here cold wishing I could do something else, wishing something would come easy for once...and I'm tired of hearing myself talk and I apologize to your friend's lists but I don't know what else to do but write...and I know, I can hear the voices in my head yelling at me that I'm not supposed to be jealous of others and I need ot live for myself not other people...but I've never HAD other people and then I thought I did but they were taken away and if I'd lost my job when John was with me I wouldn't have even really cared because I'd have felt secure (and he'd have held me and we'd have had sex and it'd have been ok and it wouldn't have mattered to me what people at work thought of me because he loved me...that's why I worked so hard to support him and clean the house and try to make him feel loved even when he didn't do that for me because I wanted so badly to succeed with him and have my family that I always wanted and my kids that I always wanted...and now I've lost that...AND my job).

And I didn't even get to have sex tonight.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (what you own)
My friend [livejournal.com profile] quirkytizzy wrote this for me once in response to some other post I wrote splooging my angst all over the internet. And at the time, I was stunned into silence that any ther human being could understand so completely how I felt, and I was supremely grateful. I'm reposting it now because I feel the need to read it often to help keep my grip on sanity (tenuous as it is) and to thank her for her words and to prove I'm not the only insane one out there, and perhaps even to help the other insane people who might need to read it, too. To being an "US" for once, instead of a "THEM..."

I'm the kid that no one knows, I live a life I never chose, but these thoughts in my mind are my own...my own. I'm face to face with the unknown, my scary movie will be shown, I've got one evil mind of my own...my own )

A few months ago I mentioned in my journal that I wanted to start my spiritual journey again (as if I ever stopped) and I remember saying something about how I was more stable then...I think it's because I thought I was in a stable relationship where my partner was willing to work through things, so I thought I was in a better place. And I remember apologizing to all of you who've had to suffer through my insane ramblings over the years.

PSYCHE!

I guess I spoke too soon. I just thought I was on the other side of something, because I didn't think about the abuse and pain every day. I wasn't constantly being reminded everyday how different I was from other people and how insane that was and how uncomfortable it was for everyone else to have to deal with me. John seemed like he accepted me and loved me, and he seemed like he liked having sex with me, which helped because I'd always been afraid I wouldn't be able to have sex (my churches reinforced this...sex was wrong and enjoying it the way I thought I did was wrong and sinful, and if I became holy enough that would go away) so my life seemed like it was moving toward complete. And I felt sexy, and I felt safe to be myself. And then that started to crumble and then it broke completely. I found myself again in a place where I was the odd one out like I'd always been. And all that time I thought I was accepted was a lie, I hear people here every week talking in the other room upstairs about how they always thought Iw as weird or annoying or a dog or not pretty, and they're glad John isn't with me. And it's not even that the words hurt, because I'm used to knowing people think that of me, it's just that I feel like a fool for thinking I was ever accepted and irritation because these people don't realize the ways in which THEY are not pretty and ugly and weird and annoying.

So I went from having sex with someone that I thought loved me to still WANTING to have sex, to having sex with someone who might NOT love me (and that was ok because I thought we understood each other and we both wanted the same thing because AGAIN I believed what someone said) so now I'm in a weird, annoying place. I don't like discovering myself only to discover that it still doesn't matter because I STILL don't fit in here. I was never sure if I'd be able to have sex without panic attacks, or if anyone would WANT to have sex with me, and now I've been around enough people to realize I'm not hideous and people will find me attractive, and even I like the way I look, so that's not an issue. And I've mostly left the fear of sin and death and hell behind, and I'm comfortable with the way I express myself, and I realize my physical attraction to girls isn't just a fluke, so hey, I know myself now. Or I'm getting to know myself.

It's just that it doesn't matter, because I DON'T have someone to love me and have sex with me, and I want that, so even if I know myself, no one else wants to k now me. Or at least that's what I fear when I'm at my worst. I want something I've never had, I want a family and a HOME--that mythical place where when you have to go there, they have to take you in. And I want to be able to be with people sometimes and enjoy myself and have them want to be with ME, too. And I want to be able to be alone sometimes without facing the fear that I'm always going to have to be that way because I don't fit in.

I'm glad to know that some people may understand...I'm glad I have a place to speak even if what I say is scary and insane sometimes...and I'm glad I have a place to move to in a few weeks. I just hope that I have a life soon, too. I'm waiting for my real life to begin.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
I got to watch a fight tonight. At Cranker's, the restaurant near here. They're open 24 hours on Wednesday-Saturday, so I eat there because I don't have a kitchen yet and I don't feel comfortable in this house anmore. Without them, I'd probably go hungry most of the time because it's seriously too much effort to make myself eat these days. So I'm glad Crankers is there. Anyway, the waiter broke up the fight, and he's actually a really good waiter, so I felt bad for him that he got tackled and whacked on the head while the idiots were throwing punches and breaking tables. I'm proud of our waiter. He was a lot nicer than most people would have been in that situation.

I keep telling myself, a few more weeks a few more weeks a few more weeks and I'll have my own place. My own space again. But it won't be the same. I won't be the same person. I've learned so much and grown and changed so much that to find this new person in my skin is a scary thing. I don't know what to do with her. And that's the thing...I know I've grown. I know I've changed. I know I've fought through blood, sweat, and tears to get to this place I'm in now. So it really hurts me when people see the person I am now and don't like or appreciate things I do, not even realizing how hard it is for me sometimes to walk upright and not collapse into a puddle of goo and walk into the river and give up and drown. This week I got into a stupid situation with some friends, I got irritated at stupid little things and I saw myself getting to the point where I was going to snap and say mean ass stupid things, so I got up and walked away. And this was a bad thing. It was labelled storming off, and I know it was confusing and hurtful to them, and my one friend kept commenting that I needed to stay and talk, not get up and walk away.

A few years ago, I was with my friend Elijah and his family eating at a restaurant, and Elijah's dad spilled his tray and all his food and he turned red and started shaking with anger, and then he did a strange thing...he walked away. And they knew he was pissed. Elijah said his dad did that a lot when he was angry, he walked away to keep himself from screaming or hurting anyone with his anger. And because I'm strange, I felt a strange thing at that moment. I felt honored. In my family, in my past, I bore the brunt of abuse and anger and pain because I was a whipping post for my mom and brother and a lot of our other family members. I was screamed at, hit, pushed, threatened, mocked, and I still bear a lot of those scars today. I can see it building in me, too, this anger and rage that I know could propel me to lash out and hurt someone, and sometimes it scares me seeing this anger bubble over. But I made a vow to myself that I would NEVER be like my family, that I would keep myself from lashing out like that, and if I couldn't keep from doing that, I would be like my friend Elijah's dad and I would walk away. So when I get into situations where I'm angry, especially when I'm angry about insignificant little things, I'm proud of myself when I walk away and don't subject others to what I went through, I try to honor them and their space the way Elijah's dad does when he cares enough about his family to walk away, even though they think it's weird.

It was hard to hear that this is frowned upon by others. And I promised that I wouldn't walk away in the future, that I would stay and try to talk things out. But I just don't know if they get it. I don't think people understand how hard it is for me to do some things that come naturally for others. It's hard for me to make eye contact. It's impossible for me to eat if I'm in an awkward situation or I think people don't like me, and sometimes it's so hard for me to be around people that I run to the bathroom and throw up over and over because I don't want them to look at me, I'm terrified of it. I was kept inside for most of my life as a child. My mom imprisoned my brother and I in the house and wouldn't let us leave, and for me it was even worse, because I wasn't allowed to talk without my mom screaming for me to shut up. I was terrified of her and what she would do, so I retreated into myself. I stayed in my room and since I wasn't allowed to go to school, I taught myself to write so I'd have a way to express myself. I didn't know how to act around other people. I didn't know how to talk to people. And it's taken me so long to get to the point I'm at now where I can push myself to interact with other people even though it's scary for me and I can make msyelf talk, make myself interact, make myself try to be like other people, that I'm so proud of myself for doing so well every day. It's just hard to feel like even this much isn't enough for anyone. It hurts. I spent years thinking I was sick and bad and a slut and a freak...since I was four. I didn't know how to be myself or even who I was. I tried everything, even being in an opressive religion for years that I let define me because it fit in with my sense of self-loathing to see what a wicked sinner I was. and now that I'm broken out of that...it's scary. Because I have nothing to fall back on but myself.

I've lost so much recently. I gave my heart and trust to someone, and it was broken. I re-arranged my whole life and now I have to pack up and move and try to make my life work elsewhere. I don't know how to integrate these things. The profound fear that I'll never be good enough eats away at me sometimes. I'm so tired of trying. I'm so hard fo fighting every day to keep my face composed, keep my reactions normal, watch what I say, watch what I do. I just want to give up. I'm so very tired of this. I want to be proud of myself (God knows no one else isn't going to be proud of me) and have my reactions and my emotions that are so fucking abnormal to other people and just grab my familiar things, my knife, my music, my drugs, and give up. Fuck you all, you're right, every horrible thing you want to say and think about me is true. Have a cookie and pat yourself on the back, there's nothing you want to think about me that other people haven't thought already. You want to think I'm just trying to get attention and have a pity party? Fine, go right ahead. The truth is if I didn't have this space to wirte in, I would literally go insane. My brain can't go back to a place where it can't express itself again, so I have to write somewhere, and here it is, for better or worse. And sometimes, I want nothing more than to crawl into my hole and masturbate with my knife and let go and die. I struggle with this, it's insane, and it's not something anyone wants to hear or understand, so most of the time, I just want to give in and give up because at least I understand me.

But I don't do that. I keep going out, I keep going to work. I keep talking to friends even when they don't seem to want to talk to me. Nobody gave me a chance, ever. I want to give everyone a chance if I can. I fight through every day when people are confused and mock or judge or criticize my reactions and I keep going and I keep fighting and I just am who I am. I don't think it'll ever be enough. I don't think there's ever a time or a group of people or a place where I'll completely fit in. But I know that even if they can't (or won't) understand me, there are ways in which they've been misunderstood themselves, and the only way I can combat my past is to fight against it and try to understand others. I went to my counselor again recently. I go to him every few years and bare my soul, and he said the same thing he always says. He said I could meet with him and talk, but that's not what I really need...I really just need someone to talk to and some friends to be around to hang out with me and distract me and talk with me, and while I could meet with him, he says it's not what I really need. I need companionship. No shit, I could have told him that...and he knows that. He's wise. He knows I need people as much as I don't WANT to need people. So I came away knowing what I already went in knowing...that I need to keep fighting.

So yeah, I'm weird. I cry sometimes over stupid little things...but you have no idea how much courage that takes. I was BEATEN when I cried as a child. BEATEN. Crying wasn't allowed, but they couldn't beat it out of me, and the more I tried to stop them ,the tears came anyway. So I cried for years, and then spent years in stony silence refusing to cry. I have a much healthier mix now between these two psycho extremes, but sometimes my reactions seem out of place, strange, overly intense...and I know that. But it's taken me so long to even get this close to normal that I just wish people would cut me some slack. I may seem to talk about sex a lot and I may seem not to value sex, but what you don't see is the constant battle inside between the puritan religious girl who can never be pure, and the four year old who was called a slut, and the five year old who viewed sex as just something she HAD to do. I'm somewhere else now, I'm not in any of those places, but my views and beliefs are borne in my spirit from the seeds of all those different perspectives, and they're strange. but I value sex and I value love and I value friendship above family just because whatever friends I have a re the only real family I've ever had. I don't look down on others for having a different prespective, even when I really disagree with it, because it's who THEY are, not who I am.

I'm just so tired. But more than anything, I'm tired of worrying that I'll lose whatever friends I may have if they see inside me and find this weird, scary, intense, insane person hiding there under the surface. I want to be whole, and I don't know what that looks like. But I get myself through somehow. I'm a survivor and it's what I do, what I've always done, so I'll keep doing it.

In spite of myself.

Taking the Long Way Around )
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (empty wallet)
I got a call back from Appleridge about a rent subsidized apartment! One is available, so they're running my criminal records check and my credit check right now. I'm really worried about the credit check since I don't have any credit, but I hope they realize the circumstances of why and how I'm trying to pay my debt off...anyway, prayers and good thoughts and such would be greatly appreciated.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (what you own)
Probably not.

I bought 4 new movies today...

Zodiac
Dark Fields
Hell's Gate 11:11
HAunted Highway


Of all of them, Zodiac has the best chance of being good. Let's hope so.

Our bathroom is still shitlogged. We don't know what to do. We've plunged numerous times, drain snaked twice, unscrewed and emptied pipes, heated up the pipes with a heater in the basement in hopes of thawing it...nothing works. It won't flush or clear the shit out of the pipes, it smells horrible, and it's disgusting in there. Gah. I don't know what to do next.

I hate Big Rapids. But I got my ATM card working (finally, after trying to clear up this pin number garbage since NOVEMBER) so I'm happy about that, and I got my hair cut and it looks really cute. So it's not all bad, just...shitty. HA. Sigh.

Cut for Teh Dredded Religion Stuff )
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (suicide)
I've updated to a plus account so I can have some of my userpics back. There are ads on my journal now, which I don't really like, but it could be worse.

We didn't have "the talk." I don't really know what we have to talk about...it's not that he hurt my feelings once, that I actually can brush off and I do all the time, it's the feeling I get when he constantly says things that dismiss my feelings, and I know he doesn't mean to do it. Maybe I'll just bring it up the next time it happens, since I know he doesn't mean to do it and mentioning it might help. When the air purifier gets here, the smoke situation should get better, too, and I know that's something he doesn't understand. Sigh...I hate communicating.

We got a new cat today, but I've never seen her. She freaked out and hid somewhere in the house, and we have no idea where she is...this all happened before I got up this morning.
edgarallenfrog: (pissed off)
Last week I had a migraine for the five days leading up to Christmas (the fifth being Christmas day). By the fifth day, I was practically out of my mind. I was sick, tired, groggy, and I couldn't take it anymore. No matter how much medicine I took, the headache didn't go away. And cigarette smoke makes it so much worse, and everyone here smokes except John. It's a dilemma. I don't know what to do about it, really. I was hoping that my body would get used to the smoke, but that doesn't seem to be happening.

So I started out this week getting a migraine again, and I didn't think I had the strength to go through a five day migraine again (though it's getting to that point again) so I took some medicine and ran from the room every time someone started to smoke, coming into the bedroom and closing the door. That seemed to work until last night. I came into the room and closed the coor, John came in and got a drink then left, leaving the door open. Someone walked by (I heard footsteps) and that person must have been smoking because a cloud of smoke blew in the door right into my face, so I got up in a blind reaction and slammed the door. John came back in to get something else and left without closing the door, and I asked him if he could please close it, and he said "Yeah, I might as well" in a really pissed voice and then HE slammed the door. Great.

I wanted to stomp out ad leave the house, but I didn't have anywhere to go and I felt so exhausted I decided to just lie down and wait. Eventually, John came back in and I had a chance to talk to him a tiny bit. He said he was irritated because he didn't understand why the door had to be closed, and when I mentioned the smoke he said no one was smoking downstairs at the time (I repeat, footsteps and cloud of smoke) but I apologized and he said he wasn't mad.

But still, I know WE NEED TO TALK (tm). I don't want to, though. I don't have a good track record in communication. I'm reading my old journal entries because of an archive project, and good GOD I was a mess back then. How did you guys put up with me? I was constantly in turmoil because of some personal religious crisis and every fucking week there was a fight of some kind in here. I'd like to think I've grown and can express myself better now, but I don't know.

The bottom line is, I don't want to move out (not that I have a place to go) but I don't know what else to do, these headaches are killing me. I bought an air purifier and when it comes in the mail it might help. I don't know if John understands how bad the ehadaches are, though. Or if he understands ANYTHING, and every time I try to tell him something I feel like he dismisses my feelings (he says things like "that's ridiculous" or "that's nuts" or "that doesn't make any sense, but ANYWAY") and I don't want that to happen.

My head hurts.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (Default)
It's Monday, December 18th, 2006, and Look Who's Having the BEST QUOTE EVER! )

It was a pretty good day. I slept, shopped for presents for the chilluns, did laundry and bought food.

Edit

Oh FUCK YOU )
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (idontcare)
The Year in Review

"Hey, we do NOT eat our own farts!." My room is clean. Well, Melissa got my IM-Jen informed me tonight that Melissa is pissed and never wants to have anything to do with me again. Well, I've wanted to see the movie "Popcorn" since I was a kid and the trailer came out on tv ("Buy a bag...go home in a box!") but of course I wasn't allowed to watch horror movies, so I never got to see it. Ok, they're not really jailbait...false advertising, I know, but I had to get you to click this link SOMEHOW, right? You thought that review for "The Hills Have Eyes" was hilarious? Check out the one for RENT. Tonight, Ashley asked me why I was in such a bad mood because I was "snapping and screaming" at people and I replied that I was frustrated and stressing, but that I took offense because I wasn't "snapping or screaming" any more than SHE was, to which she rolled her eyes, and I pressed that I told all the workers that I was frustrated and apologized if I sounded snappy at all, and I told her I was going to the back to cool off, and in short I was doing the same thing she (Ashley) does every time she's mad and I was doing the best I could, and she rolled her eyes again and shook her head and said "whatever." I want a new life...d'you suppose Walmart has them on sale? So I'm officially a manager, with uniforms and everything, and I'm going to start attending meetings now...I'm scared. :( And I'm still being sued by an angry hospital. I'm going to try to make one post a day for the month of October. Well, I have a urinary tract infection (I know, you all wanted to know that) and I've had it for two months now. This is Punkin'; he's my favorite boy kitty in the whole world. ...


Apparently, my life is ridiculous and contains a lot of angst, but cats make everything better.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (empty wallet)
Well, I might get kicked out of my house. Ashley, who signed a lease with me in May and then lost her job in July and promised to keep paying rent though she moved back home, hasn't paid rent since August, so the Jacobs want to talk to me about it, I'm going to talk to them on Thursday and see what happens. Ava is freaking out in her typical style, saying highly intelligent things like "Techinly they shunt kick us out because of Ashley it's not our fault she's not paying." I tried to explain to her that we signed a lease saying that we'd pay $700 a month, and the lease specifically says if the payment eeds to be met whether all signed parties are paying or not, but she gave me this blank look kind of like a confused puppy ad then said "well they shunt kick us out because it's not our fault we can't pay, she SAID she'd pay."

I'm going to talk to the Jacobs myself. Honestly, I hate living with Ava and would have no problem moving out, it would be cheaper to live with John (he only charges people $200 for rent, utilities and everything) ad he's offered more than once. He was actually excited about the prospect of me defaulting on my lease because he wants me to live here. I called Ashley and she says she flat out doesn't have the money and can't pay, and she told me to go to the Jacobs and talk to them for her and see if we could get out of the lease. I mentioned this to Ava and she got this really high-pitched voice like a shrew on acid and said "Well techinly we shud go together and talk to them" which I deflected by saying Ashley and I were the original tenants and we signed the lease and though Ava signed it later, she didn't leave a security deposit (that was Ashley's and Ava just took it when Ashley left) so the money held for default on payment would be mine and Ashley's, so I should talk to them alone first. Secretly, I really just want to tell them what a stupid bitch Ava is and how she doesn't pay bills and how I lost my job and got another job which pays less and I can't afford this and see what happens...I don't know what they'll say, but I'm going to give it a shot.

Last night we moved my TV, VCR, DVD player and TV stand from the living room here, and Ava was pissed but because I had other people with me she didn't say anything. I've got a game plan for clearing out all my crap, basically throwing most of it away in garbage bags and leaving my bed on the side of the road (keeping the mattress though) and lugging my stuf fhere slowly but surely even if we don't get kicked out. All my clothes fit into one of those 37 gallon Tupperware containers, so I have a dresser I don't need. In fact, I have a few things I don't need, so if anyone near here would be able to use them, let me know:

Floor Lamp
End Table
Huge Oak Dresser
Small pine dresser painted yellow
TV
Dvd/VCR combo
Desktop computer with canon pixma photo printer, everything included
Older printer, still fully functional but without ink cartridges

All the electronics are less than 6 months old and in great condition.

That's about all...
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (inspiration)
Cut so my frieds list doesn't kill me )

I spent forever working on this, so you all better click and recognize.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (empty wallet)
The Bus

By Cindy Gregerson 2005

She walked out into the road alone and got hit by a bus. She was ignorant of roads and buses before that time. No one explained to her the damage that could be done by going into the road alone. She knew other people had survived crossing the road. She did not understand how such a thing could happen to her.

It took a very long time for her to recover. During her recovery, she was constantly reminded that everyone knows you don’t walk into the road alone and everyone knows you can get hit by a bus and suffer irreparable damage. Despite their intentions, this slowed her recovery.

As she began to take tentative steps again, she became extremely frightened of what other things everyone else knows. If she had been so wrong to think she could cross the road alone and so stupid as to try and accomplish something for herself, were there other things that everyone besides her knew? Her fears began to grow. She was sure there was a bus on the other side of the front door. She knew that she would suffer great pain if she wore the wrong clothes or spoke at the wrong time or took the wrong job or tried to learn anything new. She was afraid to breathe. She feared the simplest decisions. She had been so wrong and it had cost her so dearly. She dared not listen to her own voice, and it began to fade away.

She let others lead the way. She did some things that she had done before—they were safe, tested. She never dared to walk a path that someone had not already deemed safe. She expected nothing better, nothing for herself.

The bus killed her many years later, without ever hitting her again.

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