Fuck.

I want to not be a horrible person. I do. I truly, really do. But sometimes I can't help it. This may be one of those times, but maybe not? I don't know. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel right now. It's just another karmic punch in the face from where I'm sitting, but I realize that sounds childish and selfish. I mean, the entire universe can't be out to get me, right? Right.

It was hard enough for me to come to terms that this fat fucking piece of shit who actually said that he views me as a non human because I'm a lesbian was going to have a baby, something that I've always wanted and lost the singular opportunity I had to make that dream come true. I struggled with how unfair that fact was for months after I heard the news. But eventually I thought ok, I don't know his wife, maybe she deserves to have a baby and be a mother even though she clearly has zero taste in men because she married one of the most vile human beings I have ever had the displeasure of being forced to associate with. *ahem*

Then today I come back from a four day weekend to find that the baby had been born...yesterday. A little girl. Ouch, that hurts. Named Eleanore. Eleanore Rose. Excuse me while I try to swallow this giant lump in my throat oh fuck it won't go away why that middle name WHY WHY WHY?

And then I had to SEE him looking all smug and happy tonight when I went to get water on my break. At least I got to pretend that I didn't see him and didn't have to talk to him. Because fuck. Thank you, universe. I suppose I should be happy that my entire nightmare didn't come true and they didn't name her Trinity Rose because then I just might have offed myself. So fuck you very much, karma, fate, whatever higher power it is that I so wronged. And touche.  How much longer will I be paying for a crime that I'm not entirely convinced I committed?

The Wednesday that was More Like a Friday

So! It may be Wednesday for most people, but for me, for this week anyway, it's FRIDAY!!!!!!!! The Friday of my work week, anyway. When I leave here tonight I am getting in my car, driving home, loading up Mel's car and then we are hitting the road for Poughkeepsie. I would love to have time to take a shower tonight after work, but because we're kinda busy and kinda short staffed, that's looking like it may not be practical lest we get on the road at 1:30am, and I really don't want that since I've been up since 8am and am fucking sick as a dog right now. Goddamn cold going around my department at work, I can't seem to NOT get every cold/flu/stomach bug that goes around this place. Bleh. BUT! No cold or flu is going to stop me from enjoying my COBHC weekend. I am so fucking excited for these concerts.

Anyway, work beckons...I shall try to keep up this weekend on posting.

Listen, Fatass

If you didn't insist on eating a snack, then dinner, then cookies, then cake, then more cookies, then more cake, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't puke your guts out into the trash can in the bathroom at work and be so embarrassed about it because you actually knocked the bag off the can and puked directly INTO said can that you had to clean it up with bare hands and feel grossed out for the rest of the night because you touched your own vomit. Maybe. And maybe if you didn't eat like a pig to the point of making yourself puke a) you wouldn't be such a fucking fatass and b) your mother wouldn't accuse you of actively being bulemic. So fucking stupid. So, so fucking disgustingly stupid.

This Just In

I found some cold medicine in my purse.  I know that this sounds very mundane and not at all exciting, but considering that I've been feeling like absolute shit for the past five hours, thought I had none and then by the grace of the Gods actually found some that I could take makes it quite possibly the most exciting thing that will happen to me all day. I would normally go with all week, but we're seeing Children of Bodom twice in a row AND I'm getting my nails all done up pretty like, so the cold medicine procurement has to settle for being the highlight of my day instead of my week. Still a pretty good accomplishment, I think.

...Gods, I am pathetic, aren't I? LOL

Exhausted

I am completely run down. I hate this. I feel like the harder I try not to run myself down, the more run down I get. It's a vicious cycle and I don't know how to get out of it at all.

We're going away for five days as soon as I get out of work tomorrow, which means that whatever  little sleep I manage to get tonight is it until sometime late Thursday morning. Haha! I'll be lucky if I sleep from 3-8am tonight (tomorrow morning? I dunno). I'm ok with that for the most part, I'll sleep a bit Thursday morning before we head out to get our nails done (Aieee!) and then probably go out for dinner, then FRIDAY AND SATURDAY COBHC \M/ I need these concerts I need them to recharge and let loose and be myself for two fucking nights.

Anyway, at work so not a lot of time. So much to say, so little time to put it down in words.

Reflections

You know, it scares me sometimes to go back and read the earlier posts I wrote. It scares me that so much has stayed the same. So many of the same feelings crowd my mind on a daily basis. I guess you could say that I'm better at hiding it now, but they're still there. That darkness still shrouds almost every thought, every feeling. The wounds still fester and bleed, just a little bit further beneath the surface than they used to. I still have my moments where I let the mask slip and let people see in, see the truth, but I'm far more protective of that dark side than I ever used to be. I don't want people judging it, trying to exorcise it from my soul. As I have said before, it is who I am. My strength. My shield. The truest, most loyal friend I have. Darkness. Pain. Sorrow. Fear. As I've said before, I have no fear of Death. I am not as anxious for him to come and claim me as I once was, but I do not fear him. There are still moments...seconds, minutes, hours, sometimes even days...where I would welcome him, even beg him to come and embrace me. But I have learned to accept that I still have a life here, and that I have to live it before I can finally be free.

I'm tired of defending my emotions to people who can never understand what I'm feeling. I'm tired of being told to "get over it" by people who have only the slightest clue the pain that I've experienced. None of what I went through is something that you just "get over" and I'm sorry if my pain is an inconvenience to you. I do my best to put it aside 90% of the time and those times that it does hit me like a ton of bricks well... I can't help it that I still cry for her, for myself, for everything that was lost and stolen and will never be. I can't help it that I get angry, that I scream and lash out at demons you can't see. I can't help it that you can't understand, that you can't begin to know what I'm thinking and feeling. And no, there is nothing you can do to make it better. There is nothing anyone can do to make it better, at all. Nothing can bring her back, nothing can take away what they did to me, nothing can dull the pain that was inflicted upon me...nothing. Most of you don't even know the half of it, and what you do know, you refuse to believe, and calling me a liar does less than nothing to ease the torment. So I lie and say that I'm fine, with a smile on my face, and I let you think I've lost my mind completely when the facade cracks ever so slightly and I have a bad day/week/month and lash out for what is, to you, no logical or even illogical reason.

As an afterthought, unloading your best kept secrets to random people in your life is incredibly stressful and stress relieving at the same time.

More to come. This has already gone very far off the originally intended course.

New year...time to start over again. I need to start writing again. I need it. And starting today, I'm going to give myself that one little luxury. Because I need the release. The outlet. The chance to make myself heard, even if it's only to this blank page of pixels. I need to get the thoughts and feelings out of my head and let them see the light of day or they're going to smother me and make me insane.

Starting today. Or tomorrow. Soon, anyway.