Twisted Opiate Brain

It's amazing how something I was looking so forward to a couple of weeks ago has now become something that I am dreading more than anything. All I wanted to do is go see two of my favorite bands perform on the same stage. That's all. Then my life blew up and I had to worry about how that was going to happen, but at first, it seemed like I could make it work. Then no hotel, no place to stay and two of the people I love the most pulling me in two different directions to the point where I feel like I am being physically torn apart. I resign myself to the fact that the concert can't happen, and my mom half assed makes possible plans to go to my sister's. Then Mel decides the day before the concert that hey, maybe we can still go and stay at my dad's. So I tell mom this but I also tell her DO NOT CANCEL YOUR PLANS JUST FOR THIS, IF YOU WANT TO GO TO LISA'S, GO. But of course she doesn't listen and gets pissed and cancels and has now cut me out of her life. She's still watching Iris tomorrow but I'm honestly afraid of how she's going to treat her. If there's any living creature in this situation who doesn't deserve to be treated badly, it's my dog. She did nothing wrong. Realistically, neither did I, and my mother overreacts to everything that happens in the most negative way she can think of, but...I understand, I'm a human being, I can cope with her being rude to me. If she treats my dog badly...there will be hell to pay. I'm not even sure I WANT to go to the concert anymore because I'm afraid of the repercussions. I wish sometimes that I could just cut my mother out of my life, I know she's toxic and treats me like shit, but she's also my mother and I'm the only one of my siblings who ever does anything for her. Translation: I do everything for her and she still treats me like I'm the scum of the Earth. I don't get it. But it's a repeating pattern in my family. Janice did everything for Grandma Betty, Grandma Betty treated Janice like crap and acted like she hated her. Mom (and I) did everything for Granny, Granny treated us like crap and acted like she hated us. Now I'm the one doing everything for my mother and she acts like she hates me and wants nothing to do with me unless she needs something from me. She hates Mel simply because Mel is with me. There is no other explanation. She's pissed that someone came along who is willing to stand up to her on my behalf and loves me for who I am in spite of how fucked up I am.  That's what all of this boils down to, really. I have someone who I love and who loves me and that takes me away from being mommy's lapdog every second of every day. I'm 35 goddamn years old and still she treats me like I'm 16. If it were up to her I'd sit at her house with no job and wait on her and spend every waking moment with her. Too bad I grew up, huh? Too bad I have my own life. Too bad you can't control me anymore like you've always tried to. I know you hate that I don't just roll over and let you treat me like a whipping boy anymore. You say that's how Mel treats me, but look in the mirror for once. Maybe then you'll see the truth. That as bad as you think Mel is, as controlling as you think she is and as much as you think she treats me like shit, you are far worse. I love you, mom, but you're an emotionally unstable and abusive woman. You have been in some ways since I moved back home from Canada, and even at some points before that. I wish I could change you. I wish I could change the whole situation. I wish that I could make you see what you do to me without screaming in your face and saying things that are better left unsaid. But even if I did scream in your face and tell you how I really feel, would you hear me? I don't think you would. All you would say is "Mel put you up to this. Mel turned you against me. Mel put all of these ideas in your head." No, she didn't. I am finally realizing that the way you treat me is destroying me from the inside out. I don't want to cut you out of my life. I don't want to turn my back on you. I don't want to lose my mother (and my whole family along with you) but...I don't know how much longer I can take the constant guilt trips, the emotional abuse, the attempt to control my every move. Why do you care if my bedroom is organized? Why do you care if my living room is tidy? Why do you care if my kitchen is clean? You said yourself you're never coming to my house again. So what does it matter? You say you want me to be happy, but what you mean is you want me to be happy if me being happy means breaking  up with Mel and coming back home to live under your thumbrulescontroltyranny roof. And I'm sorry, that's not going to happen. You're not going to win this round. So please learn to accept who I am and who I love. Because if you don't...you won't have me around much longer, I promise.

I give up. All you motherfuckers who have tried so hard to break me all these years, congratulations. I have nothing left to give. The only reason I won't simply end things is because that's not fair to my puppy. She needs her mommy. She is the only thing I have to live for. Once she's gone...I'm gone too. Fuck this shit.

Just how stupid do you think I am?

I'm starting to seriously question the past five and a half years of my life. I wanted to believe that I was special...that I was important, and the past week has proven to me that I am, in fact, not. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but instead I find that it's more "out of sight, out of mind" unless it's convenient to have someone to get sympathy from. Who cares how I feel, what I want? No one, basically. And it hurts. I can't be bought. I can't be shoved aside until you feel like you need a shoulder to cry on. If I am nothing more than a way to "escape" from living with your parents (which was in fact the way you described it when you first moved here....90% to get away from mom and dad, 10% because you wanted to be closer to me...your exact words), then I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore. I'm not even convinced that you really miss me...I think you miss NOT being around your mother, and coming back to me gets you away from her again. To be honest, I feel like a bit of a fool. I fell for everything...every I love you, every I need you, every I miss you...but when it comes right down to it, I can't help but wonder, was it all a lie? Am I truly as stupid as you seem to think that I am? I don't know. What I do know is this past week has proven to me that yes, I may be sad without you, but deep down, I'm okay. That's not the lesson you wanted me to learn, I'm sure, but that's what I'm taking away from this. When (not if, because I don't believe anymore that this can last...) you leave me for good, I will be okay. I'll cry and my heart will break, but my world and my life will go on. Maybe I should just make the first move myself...but I'm just stupid enough to give you one more chance.

Dear Mom,

Dear Mom,

It must be awful to have a daughter as horrible as me. I've let you down in so many ways you've probably lost count by now, but let me see if I can refresh your memory.

I'm fat.

I'm a lesbian/bisexual.

I'm never going to give you grandchildren.

I didn't finish college.

I'm a "liar" about everything.

I "use" you for your laundry and your credit cards.

I don't include you in everything that I do.

I won't leave my fiancee and move back in with you when you "leave dad."

My apartment is a mess even though you just helped us clean it six months ago, giving up "all of your weekends" to make it presentable.

I'm irresponsible about everything.

I dare to put myself first about once every 3-6 months, if that.

I contributed to Granny's death in some way, shape or form involving a UTI and some other bullshit I can't quite recall at this point.

I don't try hard enough to lose weight.

I lack commitment in every aspect of my life.

I'm lazy.

My car is always a mess.

I'm sure that I'm leaving things out, but I guess you can see my point by now. How could you possibly live with yourself knowing that you birthed such a horrible, wretched person? I mean...I bend over backwards to try and do whatever I can to make your life easier, I do (almost) whatever you ask of me as soon as you ask it, I listen to you cry and rant and get angry about everything (including my own father, brother, sister, fiancee), let you have your pity parties and do whatever I can think of to cheer you up, I encourage you to do things for yourself because I know you can even when you think you can't, I come to see you every day before work and sometimes on the weekends, run errands for you even when I feel like shit, trust you with (almost) all of my deepest, darkest feelings and love you with all my heart, but...it's just not enough, is it? It's just not enough. I really wish that I could understand what more I need to do to make you see that all I want is to make you happy, to make your life easier. I'm sorry that I'm such a failure at everything. I'm sorry that you have such a horrible daughter. I'm sorry that I don't own a house like my brother and sister, that I don't have a grandchild for you (besides Iris, but I guess she doesn't count for much, does she?) like Rick does with Lucy and someday will have with his own children, I'm sorry that I didn't finish school and get a great career like Lisa...I'm sorry...I don't know what else to say besides I'm sorry for existing. Sometimes, especially times like right now when you're pissed at me over nothing at all, I really wish I didn't exist. I feel like it would make your life easier if I just disappeared, and I guess all I can say there is I'm sorry that I can't do that for you, either. I just suck at everything and I always will. Maybe someday I'll find the strength to disappear from your life. Maybe someday you'll forgive me for being such a fucking failure at everything that I do. Maybe someday I'll be good enough for you. Maybe someday...but not today. And today, my heart is breaking because I honestly cannot figure out what I've done wrong.

You wouldn't even say you loved me when I picked my puppy up tonight. How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?

I don't get it. What more do you want from me? Blood? Tears? You get these things every day. But it's not enough...

...I am not enough. I will never be enough. I suppose I can accept that...even if it hurts like hell.

Love always and with the deepest of apologies,
Your failure, Erica

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.

--
"They tied a knot on my life, it gets tighter when I try to hide..." Sonata Arctica, They Follow

Exhausted

The past few days have easily been some of the most exhausting of my life. I wish that I had been able to find the time (read as: time without someone reading over my shoulder) to update this blog in the midst of everything, but alas, I will have to do the best I can to "capture" the mood in retrospect now.

My ex came down to visit (mostly to see my mom, mom's idea, etc) last Sunday and just left yesterday. I was so worried it was going to be horribly awkward, but for the most part, it was alright. Of course, I took 3 days off work to make sure that my fiancee and my ex were never left alone together without me, so that probably helped curb some of the awkward. It was really nice to spend some time alone with my fiancee since my ex took my mom to Syracuse to see my sister. Mel and I never, ever get any time alone together, so it felt good to have just the two of us at home. We mostly just RP'd and played WoW, but it was without interruptions for the first time in...well, basically forever.

In other news, my mom is still a complete basketcase over the dog's death. She woke my father up wailing and sobbing last night shortly after Mel and I went to sleep. I refused to get back up because there isn't anything I can do, I was home with her all day long and she didn't say more than 10 words to me, so I don't feel like she wants me to try and comfort her. She wanted Krista to come down and take care of her. She rejected me. My fiancee. My father. My brother. Everyone. It was all Krista Krista Krista the entire time my ex was here, and now that she's gone no one knows what to do. I know it's going to take time for her to come to terms with the dog being gone. I know her heart is broken. I know she's in pain. I don't know, however, how long the rest of us can deal with the way she's acting. It's like living with a zombie, and there's nothing we can say or do to get through to her at all.

I also haven't been sleeping very well at all. A lot on my mind these days. All of which I will try to get onto the screen and into this blog eventually, but for now, it's back to work. Hooray.

Can I get a do over, please?

So...2013.

2013.

Now, you see, 13 is normally not an unlucky number for me. However, the way this year started out I'm not so sure that theory is going to hold up anymore.

Spent New Years Eve listening to my mother cry because our family dog, Sadie, couldn't move at all. Spent the next week listening to Sadie howl in pain, mom sob her heart out, and then on Friday, January 4th, we had Sadie put to sleep. RIP, my pupperface. I love you so much and I miss you more than I can even say. I know you're not suffering anymore, and you can run and play with Earl and Esther and Zeb to your heart's content. I know you'll be waiting for mom at Rainbow Bridge and you two can be reunited.

Mom is a mess. She can't stop crying, blames herself, wishes she was dead. My ex girlfriend, Krista, is down visiting for a week to comiserate with mom since she just lost her girlfriend to a stroke in June. It's...awkward at best having Krista and Mel in the house together, especially since Mel is off all week after today and I work all week. I dunno...I mean, it's nice to see her again and all, but it's weird. They seem to be getting along ok, which is a plus, but still...

...and of course, mom is treating me like Cinderella. She sits and talks to Krista about her feelings, etc, but she does nothing but go silent or bark at me to do this that and the other thing. I feel like she's almost partially blaming me for Sadie's passing, and I can't for the life of me figure out why. It hurts, because I loved that dog just as much as she did, even if she doesn't care to admit it.

Work is busy. I took tomorrow off to destress because I need to. Badly. Let's hope it works.

More later.

Another year...

Yet another year, and somehow, I'm still alive. I can't figure out how I keep managing to make it through another year, but since I'm here, I might as well take the chance to speak my mind and attempt to make promises to myself (and others) which will simply end up broken because that's all I am, a disappointing failure.

So let's see...my fiancee and I are fighting more than ever. Of course, somehow that's my fault. I'm a bully, a bitch, I'm mean, I treat her like a child, I'm ridiculous, etc. I suppose I should do something about that. I mean...if I'm that horrible a person, something has to change. So, my first New Year's Resolution is to stop having feelings, or, at the very least, stop expressing them. No one cares how I feel. No one wants to take the time to listen to me, to hear that I'm hurting, etc. So I'm going to simply interalize everything and do my very best not to let anything but a "contented smile" show on my face. My feelings and emotions do nothing but hurt other people, it only makes sense that I handle them on my own.

Second New Year's Resolution is the same as last year's. LOSE WEIGHT YOU FUCKING FATASS. I tried this, and I did really good. Lost almost 40 pounds. Then, of course, I gained half of it back. I am a fat, disgusting cow and it's no wonder my girlfriend never wants to have sex with me. So, I'm going to buckle down and start eating right, and punishing myself if I fail. If there's a threat of pain or losing some "privelege" surely I can do better. And if I keep failing and failing, I deserve to be punished. I am such a disgusting human being that in truth I should be punished whether I fail or succeed, but we'll try this, for now.

Third resolution: Be more diligent about posting in my journals/blogs. Unfortunately, I think this is going to involve setting up a whole new set of blogs because there are people who I don't really want to be able to read the things I need to say, but I'll deal with it because I need the outlet.

Fourth resolution: Suck less at work. Come in early, stay late, don't ask to leave early, don't complain, just smile and nod and do as you're told so that no one questions whether or not you deserve the position you have. Take charge more when Rick isn't here. Don't let other people push you around, but don't come across cocky and bitchy, either. There's a reason no one does what you ask: no one is going to respect someone that they think is a bitch.

Fifth resolution...Suck less over all. I really and truly do feel that I am a horrible human being who deserves nothing but pain and suffering, so I need to do what I can to change what an awful person I am. I'm not sure how to do this other than practice sunshine and roses 24/7, cry and rage and scream only when I'm completely alone (which is never) and do my very very best to bottle up everything and hide from everyone. Of course, this is very similar to my first resolution, but perhaps it really, truly is THAT important that I should resolve to do it twice.

I think perhaps that's all I can handle for one year. I have a funny feeling there's going to be a lot of new scars appearing on my skin for the first few months of 2013.

Happy New Year, everyone...

I can't shake this overwhelming feeling that things are about to really blow up in my face. It's like there's a little voice in the back of my head, laughing at me and reminding me that I can't ever have anything good, anything that makes me happy. I know that things haven't been perfect, but the tension is getting to be too much to bear. I have no idea what to do; talking doesn't work, ignoring it doesn't work, getting mad doesn't work, crying doesn't work...nothing. It's as if there's some invisible force working against me (us) and every time I feel like we're making progress, I (we) get knocked back a hundred steps.

Part of the problem is that, now especially, I feel like I have no one to talk to. My mother has all but shut me out and shut me down, she's done dealing with me because we, and I quote, "do nothing but wear her down" and she actually said to me face to face this morning that she doesn't see my fiancee and I staying together. I don't know where she gets off saying that, couples have arguments, and it's not all on me, but apparently to everyone else it is most definitely all my fault. Meh. I can't talk to my fiancee about anything without her getting defensive and jumping down my throat that I'm mean, bitchy, always criticizing her for this that and the other thing. I've tried to point out to her that it is not my fault that she hears everything I say negatively, that she has to stop assuming that I'm being mean just because people in her past have treated her that way, but it's like she doesn't even hear me. I am not her father, her mother, her grandmother, her ex, her other friends, her whoever...she has known me for 4 1/2 years, we've been dating for 2 1/2 years, and she's lived with me (and my family) for almost a year now. It's time to stop the childish excuses of "But this is how so and so used to treat me so I just assume!" THAT is wearing me down, badly, because I feel like she's not even trying to know me at all.

I know that my mother is projecting a lot of her own bad feelings on us. She's sad because my little sister is getting married next Thursday, and my sister barely comes home to visit now, she really won't be once she's married because her soon-to-be husband has no use for family. He hates his own. Mom is having a hard time with my dad, because they really don't get along very well anymore. She's also having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that she is disabled, she cannot fully care for herself, she cannot work. I understand all these things, but I am so tired of being the scapegoat. I live at home to help her. I am not actively seeking my own apartment/house because I know that she needs us there, whether she wants to admit it or not. I am not there to be a burden, or to be the avenue through which she unloads all of her frustrations.

It feels, to me,  like I exist simply for people to stomp all over me, make me feel badly, and overall treat me like shit. At home, at work, online...everywhere. No, this does not mean that there aren't awesome moments where I can actually smile, that there aren't people who do not ever make me feel this way, or that the people who do make me feel this way all the time. But it does seem to be an overall recurring theme to my existence, and I'm not sure how much longer I can take before I truly do just snap and let everyone know exactly how I feel.

Strange...

Right now, I feel this incredibly strong urge to sit here and pour my heart out onto this "blank page" in front of me, but for some reason, I can't find the words. They're just not there, or if they are I can't see them. Can't hear them. Can't force them to come out. It's frightening for someone like me to lose the words to describe how they feel inside. It's the only outlet I have left, beyond adding more physical scars to an already overly scarred-inside and out-individual. Then again, I'm not even sure my blade would make me feel any better right now; lately, there seems to be no way to relieve the stress, sadness and pain I've become trapped in once again. I suppose it doesn't help that I am mentally and physically exhausted right now, either. Three and a half weeks until I can have even a small "break" from this place is far too long for me in my current condition and state of mind, but what can I do? Do my best to tighten the strings and hold it together until I can find a way to breathe again, that's what...unfortunately, I fear my best may not be good enough. Not even close, this time.

*sigh*

Why do I feel like I was just told to pretty much shut up and go elsewhere with my problems in one of the few places where I've felt comfortable actually sharing my feelings? Bah.

It's a sad, sad state of affairs when the most "selfish" thing I can think to do is go to bed early when I get home from work.

*sigh* I just can't win.