...mitä vittua?

I'm just sitting here at my desk at work, and all I want to do is cry. I don't even know what happened. It's so random. I sat down and I was fine, working along, talking to Evan because I haven't seen the boy in a week, and now I just...want to sit here, curl up in a ball under the desk and sob my heart out. This is not really unusual for me, but...I hate it when it happens. And I mean, I know I have a lot on my mind. I know that a lot is going on in my life and in my head right now, but I really should be able to control it better, or at the very least, hide it. The walls are starting to crumble and I'm terrified. I'm terrified of what they are all going to see, what they are all going to say. I don't know how to build them back up because I don't know what's tearing them down. I hate feeling helpless and defenseless like this. I hate being vulnerable.

 

...all I want is for someone to hold me and tell me that someday, somehow, everything will be okay...but I am alone...

I don't understand...

...why is it okay for everyone else to take time off or have a bad day, yet when I do the same thing or am in a bad mood, it's like the end of the world and a crime against humanity? I am not perfect. I am not a robot. I have emotions. I feel things. Just because I don't let everyone around me see them does not mean they are not there. I also make plans and need time off. I have the hours to cover it. People are allowed to take time off to play video games, why can I not take a day off to sleep after a long roadtrip and concert without being given shit about it? I just. I hate this. I hate this life and I hate this place. I hate myself for letting all of this get to me. Perkele.

Typical...so typical

All my plotting and rearranging to try to keep my plans for next week from falling through has failed. My boss isn't coming in to work at all this week, so there's no way for me to talk to her and see if she'll give me permission to move my schedule around and get my hours in over 4 days instead of 5 next week. I'm not suprised. All I do is disappoint people, myself included. I don't know why I bother planning anything, really. Whatever.

 

I will be spending my evening with my good friend Soco and lime tonight. Perhaps a few shots of vodka with a blood twist. I just want to be so wasted I can't think, feel or cry anymore. I'm tired. I'm done.

At this point, I would welcome Death.

...with open arms and the most sincere, serene smile on my face. I'm sitting here at work, shivering and sweating, my throat is so raw I can barely whisper and swallow my own saliva without wanting to cry, my head is throbbing, but because I came in to work, I now have to "suck it up and stick it out," even though they're telling everyone not to come to work if they have flu symptoms. WHATEVER. The only reason I came in today at all is because I thought I could talk to my boss about the 16-18, but she's not even fucking here! GAH! I am just going to fucking shoot myself in the face. I. Cannot. Take. This. Anymore.

Hello, I'm a giant ball of stress!

So I feel like shit. Physically. My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton and is aching, my chest is tight, my throat's on fire...my whole body feels like I got run over by a truck...and yet I can't take the day off of work to rest because I need my "sick day" for the AFI concert next week. *sighs* I think I may have figured out a way to make most of my plans work out for the next two weeks but, unfortunately, the final decision still rests with my boss and she's not usually that nice to me. Ugh.

Why can't anything just work out for me? Why can't I just have one fucking thing that doesn't stress me out and just...works? No worrying, no rearranging everything, no disappointing anyone (or everyone)...just...one thing to go right. Once. That's all I want. Really.

Ugh. Ugh ugh urgh ugh urgh blah bleh meh urgh.

That is all.

...and they all fall down...

Well, I just watched my life fall apart in about 2.5 seconds. Awesome. I love this. Seriously. Every single plan I had for the next two weeks just fell apart. I've been waiting for this Metallica concert for months, and now I can't go. I promised my mom I would go to Philadelphia with her to see AFI, and now I can't go. I promised my BEST FRIEND that I would come and see her for her birthday, and now I can't. I can't do any of this because, unbeknownst to me, I HAVE NO FUCKING VACATION TIME. This is what happens when companies get cheap and don't give us paystubs anymore. If I got a paystub in the mail, I'd have known that I had no vacation time, and I wouldn't have fucking made plans. But no, of course not! I get fucking blindsided literally a week before all of this is supposed to happen, and now I have a bunch of people really, really upset with me! What the fuck am I supposed to do?! Nothing, that's what. I just have to suck it up and deal. And let everyone be pissed off at me for ruining their plans. Fuck. My. Life. I'm just going to go to sleep and pray that I don't wake up...

Reflections in Autumn

I'm sitting here...watching the world slowly dying around me once more...and it feels a bit like looking in the mirror...the leaves fall from the trees, littering the ground, just as my blood falls from my veins, leaving a pool at my feet...the weather grows colder, the same way my heart slowly turns to ice...Mother Nature claims her victims once again, just as the cold, cruel eyes of Fate lock upon me once again...the only difference is...

 

...the world will be reborn in the spring...I, however, will simply continue to fade until there is nothing left...

 

...what's wrong with me? Why am I falling into this cycle again? Nothing's happened...not recently, anyway. Nothing so terrible that it should make me want to give up and simply allow myself to wither away. And yet, I'm not strong enough to stop it. I don't know that I even want to. Every second that passes is another excruciating moment in which I have to draw in another breath and try and paint on a fake smile, and honestly? The paint is dried and cracking, nothing I can do can save it anymore. The bristles have fallen out of all of my brushes, so now, when I go to paint on what the world wants to see, it comes out in a twisted, frightening mess. Perhaps, finally, I am giving them all a true reflection of my soul. Maybe I have finally grown tired of all the games, of playing dress up simply because it's what they want. This should be a relief, and yet...I'm frightened. More frightened than I have ever been in my life. It's not a good feeling to look into the mirror, into your own soul, and be terrified of what you see. Though, I have to admit, it's also strangely comforting; I finally recognize myself when I look into my own eyes.

 

It's time to take off the mask and show them all my true colors...I have grown so weary of this tiresome disguise...

 

...I'm sorry...