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Archive for the ‘Feeling sorry for myself–boo-fucking-hoo’ Category

The case of the blues that was delivered to me last week before I was sick is still here in me. I kind of forgot about it due to the fact that I was preoccupied with battling the plague. It never went away, I cried several times for no reason. Well, there is a reason. Every time something sad or happy or inspiring or nice was part of whatever TV show or movie I was watching, I would start sobbing.

At first I thought it was because I was delirious with fever. But I was sad before I got sick. I was sad before I got the news about my aunt’s illness. There is something missing and it’s been missing for a while. It’s not a thing or a person, but I think it’s a flaw in myself.

For all my talk of loving myself, there is definitely a part of me that I feel is tainted and dirty and wretched and ugly and unworthy. It’s that fallen, broken, undeserving woman I feel like these days. Like you can see this filth on my skin and hair, even in my eyelashes.

I’m having a hard time being happy for people. I grind my teeth when things go so well for those other people. I don’t want to hear about love or beauty or rainbows or smiles on children. It all makes me feel even more worthless and lonely.

I do, however, smile and send wishes of wellness and happiness. I do this with a false tongue. I do this with clenched teeth. I do this with knives my stomach.

I’m not a woman that has good luck or has things work out for her. I come to expect things to fail or people to dump me or plans to fall through. I’m used to it. I sometimes laugh about it. It’s a bitter laughter, but laughing is the only thing that keeps me from falling apart or losing my temper in a way that would end up with me or someone else injured. That and shutting down. Becoming cold. I pinch myself when I feel myself freezing up.

I pinch myself a lot.

I think ever since Michael, the ex that stole from me, I have been suffocating in failure and disappointment and sadness. I am very good at covering it up and playing pretend, but that’s exhausting. I think Michael took so much away from me during our whole relationship. So much stolen and given away, in the blindness of love. I’m so ashamed of loving him. And I did love him. I hate admitting that. I want to be cool and say that it wasn’t really love, and I’m sure it wasn’t on his side but it was on mine.

I could deal with other things in my past perfectly well, mostly because they weren’t really ‘about’ me. I wasn’t raped because I was asking for it. I was raped because someone else was a sick psychopath. But this Michael business, and the things I did as a direct result of the actions he took and left me with, destroyed me because I was stupid and blind. I can’t seem to forgive myself for that stupidity that allowed such a little weak man take so much from me.

And now, whatever I do, I just feel stained and withered and used up. Not all of the time. I do have moments where I can wash my soul clean, but it’s never enough. The dirtiness is baked into my skin. Or it feels that way. Shutting down is the only way I can ignore the filth and get on with my day.

I pretend to be fine. I can be a splendid actress when I want to be. I retreat into my mind. I think of things impossible, like someone loving me, like having a child, like being able to get what I want for a change. I think of pureness…the pureness in a child’s laughter…the pureness in the hawk that flies over my house every day…the pureness in Neil Young’s voice…the pureness in the heat of cayenne pepper. Pureness makes me feel better.

That’s enough of my crying and boohooing. Thanks for listening. I’m sure that I’ll get around to closing up that box of blues and send it away soon. It’s just a bit harder this time for some reason.

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…you call your doctor’s answering service crying and begging them to help you bring your fever down.

Seriously, yesterday was the worst day of my fun with the flu. I had a temp of 101 to 102 ALL DAY. ALL FUCKING DAY. I lost my mind around 6 PM. I took two freezing cold showers to lower my temp. NOTHING.

So, I’m on the phone with the nurse on call and she is trying to calm me down because…and I believe my exact words were “I’m afraid my brain is cooking in my head!” Yeah, that’s what this poor woman was dealing with.

After listening to me cry and rant like a lunatic, she told me something I had no idea about. She asked me what I was taking and I told her Tylenol. She said that I should be alternating ibuprophen and Tylenol.

It works.

Although I don’t feel totally better, my fever is all but gone. The highest it’s been today is 99. Now, all I need is my voice back, to stop coughing my lungs out, and regain my energy. Not too much to ask really.

I’m off to take a nap. Thanks for all of the well wishes. Peace out.

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I’m falling apart.

This weekend I hurt my knee dancing. Don’t ask how. I worked out for 3 hours on Saturday and then went out dancing, so maybe I overdid it. My knee hurt so bad that I stayed home from work to rest it.

And then I woke up yesterday morning with a heavy chest and a dry cough. As the day progressed, my throat was raw and I was freezing. It was over 60 degrees yesterday. I asked the woman who sits next to me at work if she was cold and she said no. And then many other people chimed in, “No, it’s not cold.” But I was freezing. Like hands numb, shivering, freaking out cold.

I voted and then went home. I took my temp…101.9. Yikes. I went to bed. I was so cold I was moaning. I slept horrible, waking up cold or sweating. This morning I had a temp of 102.3, so I called my doctor and he said that I had the flu and to just rest and drink lots of fluids. If my temp got to 103, he said to come in to see him.

My temp is now 99.7 and I have a terrible headache and my belly hurts and I’m coughing and my throat is raw.

What the hell?

I don’t feel like being sick. I don’t think I was around anyone who was sick, so how did I get the flu?

Well, I just needed to vent or complain or whatever. I have to take a nap now.

That is all.

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Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear me…eee, happy birthday to me.

Whatever.

Update: My birthday started off with a bang. More like a chill. My furnace stopped working and I haven’t had any heat since 8 PM last night, which is the last time I can remember the heat coming on. Oy! It’s 55 degrees in here right now and I’m waiting for my landlady to come with the repairman. It’s always something.

Another update: It’s 12:30 PM and I still don’t have heat. I called the gas company and they said they don’t ‘do’ furnace repair. Fuck. I just took a burning hot bath, thankfully I have hot water, to warm up. The furnace repairman hasn’t called my landlady back. I need to vent…

What the fuck, furnace repairman? It’s January and it’s fucking cold. I have a hat, scarf, and gloves on..INSIDE. It’s also my birthday. I have other things to do, if you don’t mind. Call back and get out here so I can go have fun. I’d leave and let my landlady handle the shit, but the last time you were here this happened. So, I’m staying to supervise.

Another motherfuckin’ update: It’s 3 PM and still no heat. I just called my landlady and she says that she left another message for the repairman. Seriously dude. Call back! I have a feeling I will be spending the whole day here bundled up waiting for some fucking heat. I’m getting choked up about it. This is my life. I would like one outstanding birthday, is that too much to ask. I’m going to do some yoga and make bagels. The oven will warm me up hopefully. And I will probably have a real good cry because it’s my birthday and I’m sitting at home freezing my tits off. Oh, and did I mention not ONE of my real life friends or sister has called me or emailed me happy birthday yet. I need a new life.

Crying sobbing feeling sorry for myself sad wanting a new life update: My feet are blocks of ice. I did yoga and the sweating just made me colder. I had better get fucking heat by tonight or I am going to lose my shit so hard that I may have the ambulance called on me. White coats, come on in…make sure you have fucking gloves and a hat. THIS IS OFFICIALLY THE WORST BIRTHDAY IN AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER. Please forgive me while I sob into my 5 blankets with poor little Roslin who has been attached to me all day cause she’s cold. Stella’s got enough fur for a blizzard. Oh, and I just noticed this is my 500’th post. Woofuckinghoo. Shit, I’m not even going out to dinner for my birthday.

I’m finally warm and over my temper tantrum update: The heat is back on. The furnace just needed to be serviced. All is warm. The bagels turned out amazing. Dinner was good, I made this veggie white kidney bean stuff.

Thanks for listening…

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I just got home from my company’s Holiday Party and I’m officially wiped. I’ve been so busy, both at work and at home, that I feel like I’m wired. I haven’t been feeling very well for most of the week. I thought I was feeling better today, but it was a false hope. I started feeling like poop about an hour ago and now I’m ready to go to sleep until Monday morning.

Another Holiday Party passes without me winning any prizes. I’ve never won anything at any of our parties. It sucks. There were some sweet gift cards being won. $500 to Best Buy. Nice, huh?

I’m going to bed now, but first I wanted to direct a few of you who emailed me about Christmas to my Amazon Wishlist. Yes, I’m pimping the wishlist. Anyhow, some sweethearts (yes, more than one person) asked me how they could get a gift to me (and I’m too tired and lazy to email them all individually right now). The Amazon Wishlist is how. You don’t need my address. Everything on there is exactly what I want. Go wild.

That being said, I want to make it known that I don’t expect anyone to buy me a gift. There I said it. But honestly, who doesn’t love gifts.

I think I’m rambling now. It’s the Nyquil and the headache and the sore throat and the aches and the….. Did I mention I was also brain dead. Yeah, my mind is mush. And I’m still rambling. Goodnight.

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I’m tired and pissy. Long story short, I was in Tennessee for 4 days and on the 5th day my sister convinced me to fucking drive home with her, my 7 month old nephew, my grandmother, and my fucked up drugged out aunt. Guess how long it took?

16 motherfucking hours. We drove straight through, only stopping for pee breaks. The baby started screaming at hour 13. My aunt started her shit around the same time.

My hips hurt from sitting in the fucking car.

I don’t even feel ready for social contact yet.

I want to hide in my apartment and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

I have masturbated 4 times in the past 2 hours. What the fuck?

I’m watching a retarded show called Wedding Altered and why do people get so fucking crazy over a wedding? I have never wanted a wedding. Give me Las Vegas. Give me a cheesy fat Elvis impersonator. Give me alcohol. Give me depravity. Am I weird?

Anyhow, the big long post about a Northern girl from one of the most populated states in the country ventured to God’s country where people actually buy food at a place called the Piggly Wiggly.

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Things are not going to work out with Dr. John. I went over to his house for the first time last night and I learned some things that my friend Kelli and her husband didn’t even know.

Here’s what happened…

I got there for around 6. In time for dinner. He ordered a pizza and had a lovely dinner. He asked me about my day and we discussed the shooting on Monday. We started kissing and ended up in his bedroom getting it on. Nice so far, right?

After the sex we were laying in his bed talking when I saw it….a giant framed picture of Jesus on the wall opposite the bed. Um…..what the fuck? He saw me looking at it and said the following, “I love Jesus so much I had to have him in my bedroom.” Huh? I find out that he has a Jesus picture in every room. I hadn’t noticed, but this kind of freaks me out.

I get up to use his bathroom and sure enough, there’s a picture of Jesus. And a cross. I felt sick to my stomach. I come out of the bathroom and see a giant cross hanging over his bed. I know it’s over. I can’t do it.

I know that many of you are Christians and love Jesus, and that’s great. I’m a pagan. Yes, you heard right. I can take meeting a guy who is Christian and has strong faith, I just don’t think we’d have a future with such different beliefs….he admitted he was a Promise Keeper.

After we got dressed and went into the living room to watch TV, he started talking about his faith and how he’s born again. All I’m hearing are sirens warning me. It was the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had with someone I just finished fucking. Dirty fucking to boot. Seriously.

He was talking about his journey to Jesus, his words, and how he found the Promise Keepers. He said they made him whole. I choked on my water. I’m fucking shocked. I thought they were against premarital sex and all that kind of terrible stuff. Now, you all know that I’m a feminist. I’m not ashamed to admit it. I am a card carrying NOW member, Planned Parenthood donating, Pro-Choice, march on Washington kind of feminist.

I tell him this. He frowns. He tells me he’s surprised by this. He then asks me if we can still see each other. I tell him no. He asks why and I say “Because you’re a member of an organization that doesn’t believe that I own my body, therefore you won’t be reaping the rewards of it.” I got up and left.

I had a good cry. And now I’m kind of pissed off. I knew he was too good to be true. I’m still in the ‘what the fuck’ stage of this. How did I not see this coming? I’m crying again.

I’ll leave you with a sadder story. I was doing dishes tonight and I sneezed and phlegm shot out of my mouth and then I sneezed again right away and snot shot out of my nose, and then without having the chance of catching my breath, I sneezed again and pissed myself. Awesome, huh?

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There things that weigh us down. Right now, men are weighing me down. The phone calls, booty calls. It’s bullshit. I get more phone calls from exes than I do with men who are currently interested in me.

Sometimes I feel like I should just pretend to be a prude. To be horrible in bed. Just to have the men have something else to like me for. Have you ever known a man that is only interested in you for sex? How about having every man you’ve ever come across be interested in only that? Even when you have shown him more than your sexual side?

I know that I have loved. I have loved deeply, but I seriously doubt I have ever been anything than a plaything or someone to fuck. It’s not that I’m easy or anything like that. I want to have intelligent conversations. I want to have deep personal conversations. I want nights of cuddling and intimacy. Without sex. Without the pressure to have sex. I want comfort.

It’s been a rare thing for me to get that. It’s happened twice in my life. And one of those times I found out the man was married. That’ll fuck you up.

The other was with Neil. Even though he said those things to me a couple months ago, I know that he had to have some kind of feelings for me. I’ve slept with many men and he made love to me, he didn’t fuck me.

Don’t you just get tired of the game? Have you ever been ready to throw in the towel? I’m close to that point. The reason I emailed Neil, I think, was partly because I wanted to feel wanted again. Attractive again. When I read his email I closed my eyes and remembered how good it felt to be held in someone’s arms.

I’m not going to give up. I know I have to keep moving. Keep living. But sometimes I just need to stand still and reflect. And try to get over my feelings for the pilot, my disappointment in J, and my lack of chemistry with G.

Eh.

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So, before I go any further I want to say a few things. I have nothing against secretaries. I know they put up with a lot of shit. I’m just saying that my sister lives in rural PA and basically files and handles mail and types memos. I know this because she has told me this is what she does and bitches about it. I am in charge of making decisions for publications that are worth a few million dollars. There’s a difference I think. Besides, I file and mail shit and type memos too. What the fuck?

Next, I don’t think people who don’t have a college education are any less smart than me.

Lastly, I don’t want to be married and pregnant right now. I was just saying that at that moment last night I felt a bit inadequate. So there.

This is kind of gross, so please take care…..

I saw a man shit himself today. I went to the dollar store after work and there was a guy in line who was shifting from one foot to the other. I noticed him sweating and looking very uncomfortable. He then farted quite loud and grabbed his ass. He exclaimed (yes, exclaimed) “Oh no. I shit.” People, I had to fucking leave. I didn’t get a thing because I was laughing so hard. About an hour later, I went back to the store because I did need a few things and the owner said that he had hose down the driveway next to the store because the guy dropped deuce right there. And start the uncontrollable laughter…..

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