I Just Realized…
That in THREE of my pictures on my facebook - you can see my bra. YOU CAN SEE MY BRA!! This is an unfortunate revelation. When I look in the mirror, generally before I go anywhere, this bra-popping isn’t evident to me! I never have seen it before! Except in pictures!
I need new bras. Or new shirts. I don’t like it. It looks trashy. And all of this time I thought I was just showing a little classy cleavage :(
*awkward*
OMFG I LOOK LIKE A SLUT IN ALL OF MY PICTURES. WTF.
Cannibal.
Try to cry, feel like crying, but cannot. Stuck in a purgatory of emotions or lack thereof, unsure of what I feel. Drunk, heart lacking in the beat of caring, only moving to survive. It’s not that I’m sad, it’s just that you make me feel desolate. Can’t care but wanting to. Talking about you as if you are still relevant but feeling nothing as your name rolls off my tongue. Feeling nothing as I see you but I still continue to acknowledge your presence. I don’t know what this feeling is, I just know that weighs heavily on my back and chest, and nothing, not even your acceptance, your embrace, your love, can lift it. I’m starting to think that you weren’t ever the problem, but this hunger that burns inside me screams to be satisfied and you weren’t the start of it. You were a band aid. A quick fix, and in the long run, a problem, a war, a destruction. I know, I feel too much and perhaps more than you ever did but it is what is. Crazy as it may be, it is what I feel. This is my reaction, and I refuse to ignore it. I have not bothered you, but I will continue to document my reaction to the issue. I attached myself to you. Because you reminded me what it felt like to be young again. The simplicity, the drama, the triviality - it was fun because it meant nothing. And I miss the nothingness of it all, because, if broken, it lacked the inertia to hurt me. It doesn’t hurt and has absolutely not potential to, but I will throw off a semi-sad smile because there goes the one thing that made me feel my age. I hope you are happy, because I’m still not.
Dear Tumblr…
I had a really, really, really good day today.
I’m Really Irritated…
With my web browser. For some reason it keeps freezing on me.
I’m also irritated with facebook. Like, sure, share the hell out of your thoughts but does everyone really need to know, on a daily basis, what time you’ll be going to work? Or what you’ll be doing before work? After work? I could literally map out some people’s entire daily routines. And I feel like facebook deleting is petty, unless youuuuuuu have a very good reason for deleting someone. But it’s so irritating. ”Shower, bed, work, TEXT ME AHMAHGAHHHHHD!”
“TEXTING A CUTE BOY AND I’M TOTALLY UPDATING MY STATUS TO MAKE ME EX JEALOUS HAHAHAHAHA”
I try not to bitch, incessantly. Because…I don’t want to be a complainer. But really? Really??? And the typos and the chics bitching about some guy and wahhhhhhhhh. Or taking photos of gourmet foods (no one gives a shit that you paid 20 dollars for fries at Cafe Miranda).
And the shower thing is irritating. You have good hygiene, yay for you. But I don’t give a flying fuck that you’re taking a shower. I really don’t. And neither does anyone else.
Post cool shit. Funny shit. A song you like. Pictures of you traveling the world or having this awesome moment in your life. And what really freaks me out is when someone ends a relationship and their first thought is to update their relationship status? When Chris broke up with me, I stayed in my bed for a week - I didn’t eat, I didn’t move, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t run to myspace or facebook and change it. In the throes of devastation, social media inaccuracy was the last thing on my mind. It’s really weird to me that people do that.
oh hai, Tuesday. How are you?
I don’t think there is a song that is more uplifting than Coldplay’s “Clocks.” I am listening to a beautifully made dubstep version of it, and I feel slightly optimistic. And this is the happiest I’ve been in ages…so I will take it. I also have almost an unlimited supply of cigarettes, Kayla is sleeping soundly in my bed, and I was just complimented incessantly for the past hour, and I was also talking to Josh who makes me laugh like no other human being could. We also get paid in 24 hours, and I get to put gas in my car. I’m really excited about it.
I was lying down in my bed yesterday, at 4pm. And I realized that I have a problem. I am massively depressed. As I was lying down, this horrible feeling filled my chest and my stomach - it was beyond the feeling of hopelessness. Beyond the feeling of emptiness. It felt like rock bottom. I’m not a drug addict, nor am I an alcoholic. But I am acting like one. I am so sick and tired of letting this illness win. I’m so sick and tired of having these days where I’m so overwhelmed by this terrifying rock of pressure that has made it’s home on my back, weighing me down in my bed. It’s like the movie Melancholia. Which I both love and hate. I feel like nothing matters. And…I can’t even begin to describe how exhausting depression is. 20 hours of straight sleeping and I’ll still feel like I’ve just run some emotional marathon. And I hate it. I hate it so much because it takes so much life from me. What I hate most about it is that it that it takes so much energy to enjoy my daughter. I love this little person so fucking much and it’s taking me away from her. And it’s not that I don’t want to get up and play. It’s not that I don’t want to take pictures of her and tickle her until she can’t breathe…because I want it sooo soo SO badly. Depression is a literal ball and chain. So I made a choice to climb out of bed as the sun was setting, and to make dinner, and to take Berlin for an hour long walk, and move the furniture around my house and clean until there was nothing left to scrub…and I felt better.
And I feel guilty now. Because I was giving into all of this fear and anxiety and sadness and it was affecting my ability to be a good mother. And I think it’s because I have too much time to think. And it sounds so silly, because it is. I can’t NOT be busy because if I give myself time to think, then I want to crawl back into bed. And I have no idea what it’s stemming from. I blame Chris too frequently, and I don’t think he’s the culprit. I’m just so terrified of falling in love with the idea of something because I don’t want to face the heartache of having it taken away. Just last year I was able to function on two hours of sleep. Sometimes, I’d get ten hours of sleep in a total of three days. But I didn’t have time to whine about it. And I kept the house spotless, did laundry, I cooked, I spent time with friends, took Berlin to the park…I miss those days. I want them back.
I just want to know what happened to me.
I’m still too terrified to get blood work done. I think the lymph nodes in my neck are decreasing in size, but I’m not entirely sure. What if I am sick? The other night, I was lying in bed, pondering what those final moments feel like. How surreal it feels to be aware of the fact that you’re dying. That you won’t be able to breathe anymore. That there’s nothing left to do. That people will cut open your body in a few hours and weigh your organs. It’s not that death scares me, it’s the part before death. Knowing that you’ll never see your loved ones again. You won’t have any control over what happens to them. The most terrifying thought of it all is that what if I’m not there to protect Berlin? I want a long, healthy life. I want to be there to see Berlin’s grandchildren. And young people die all the time. The original actor on Spartacus died from Lymphoma. And he looked insanely healthy. And it’s not fair at all.
Ugh, I don’t like thinking about it, and I don’t want to be talking about it anymore.
Now I’ve depressed myself all over again. Ope, and look at that…the exhaustion is back. Maybe if I ignore the lymph nodes, they’ll go away. I don’t feel sick. I’ll wait until I pass out or something. Like Kevin Klein in that movie. I just want to live my life like I used to. Like nothing bad could ever happen to me or to any of the people I love. Otherwise…how will I possibly be able to enjoy anything?
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No, I really don’t. But seriously, I don’t wanna be that girl that’s always like “Ugh. Why do men suck?” But seriously…WHY DO MEN F’KN SUCK? (Unless they’re gay.)
I should rephrase my question. WHY DO WOMEN SUCK? I don’t want a uterus anymore. I want to sell it in exchange for male genitalia.
I once had a crush on a guy for a year. Take into account that this guy I had a “crush on” came out of NOWHERE. I haven’t even talked to the dude for like, three years. And then one day, Niomi was bored, decided to add him on facebook. Then Niomi had a crazy awesome “adult” dream about this guy…and Niomi “falls madly in love” with said dude.
I mean, I couldn’t give a crap about the guy anymore, to be honest. Quite frankly, I have debated about deleting him because it’s like being friends with Alex Jones on facebook (oooh the government is evil and out to get us and blah blah blah), but I don’t because I don’t have a real reason to.
But that is how women function. They romanticize about some douchebag that treated them like fucking shit and they become HOOKED. Because it’s a challenge? Because they have daddy issues? I have daddy issues. I do pride myself on the fact that I am not a psycho. At least not an obvious psycho. I am a secretive psycho. But I will never let on about my true feelings about someone because I’m insanely insecure…so I just stalk them. Privately.
BUT I am very good at cutting men out of my life. Men who have treated me like shit, I can drop them at…the drop of a hat. And just keep my feelings of hostility to myself. At least I have dignity. Well, it’s all for show…secretly I lack dignity entirely…but at least I am good at making people think that I have dignity.
Like this one time, in 8th grade, I went and saw this horrible movie, but it had the newest version of Peter Pan advertised (via trailer). And I fell in love with Jeremy Sumpter. I was dead set on running away to California. I would’ve done it too, had I not gotten caught. When men have celebrity crushes, they buy a poster and jerk off to it throughout puberty. When girls have celebrity crushes…they go bat shit crazy. BAT SHIT. I am living proof of that.
I blame it on the estrogen. Something about the hormones in me makes me care about people that I should not give a flying fuck about. People who don’t deserve my…caring…ness. But I do it anyway. And it’s soooooo irritating.
But at least women are better parents. Usually. Women aren’t violent by nature (that’s why like…85% of sexual abuse is done by males). And it’s their innate sense of compassion that makes them awesome multi-taskers…
I’m just irritated. And this entry is stupid.
Seriously?!
I found ANOTHER big ass lymph node. I am hoping and praying that I have some rogue infection somewhere in my body causing my lymph nodes to swell up like balloons. If not, then I’m pretty sure I have lymphoma.
And if I have lymphoma, then I have to get all healthy and shit and quit smoking…ugh, I will be soooo miserable without my vices.
I haven’t had a cigarette yet today and as a result, I’ve eaten a ton of food. I ate a brownie, noodles, and an egg and cheese bagel. I’m really disappointed in myself. I’m trying to lose at least fifteen pounds before Josh gets here because I’m sick and tired of being the “fat friend.”
I have also slept all day. I’m trying that Charles Bukowski thing…ya know, when you feel really depressed so you lie in bed and sleep all day (well, according to him it’s for three days but I had to shorten it because I have shit to do). I did shower and clean, though. I still feel like my house is messy. My living room floor is sticky. And I’m not really sure why.
So it is currently 11:30pm. We get paid in about two hours. I wish I was tired so I could take a nap. I really, really, really want to go for a drive and smoke a bunch of cigarettes. I’ve been really good lately - not going on any drives. We’ve been pretty good with our money for the past few weeks. We still haven’t paid a portion of May’s rent. I’m thinking about giving our landlord $250 this week and then $300 next week and then $110 the following week. It’s just that we have other bills to pay. And we really need to stop writing checks. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place (our landlord would wait like, two weeks after receiving the check to cash it and by the time he cashed the check, we had spent it all all ready).
Ugh, I’m too depressed to finish writing this crap.
I Am So Sick Of Being Poor.
And there’s no reason for us to be poor. Chris and I make $2268 a month.
Rent: $660
Electricity: $80
My Phone Bill: $79
Water Bill (every three months): $70
Chris’s Cell Phone Bill: $80
Gas: $300 a month (we could cut way back on that…I need to stop driving around)
Groceries: $150 a month
Internet: $55
Misc: $150 a month
Grand Total Of: $1624 which leaves us $644 left over each month. FUCK! Where the FUCK does all of our money go? Even if I’m blowing it all on gas n’ shit, we still have a ton of it left. Once we get caught up on bills, WE ARE STAYING CAUGHT UP. I am so sick and tired of never having any money. I hate running out of food, or cigarettes, or gas. This is ridiculous!! I don’t even go SHOPPING anymore. I haven’t been to the mall in over a year. The problem with us is that we spend all of our money and then have to play catch up for months and then we never have any money. I just paid my entire cell phone bill, thank God. We haven’t paid May’s rent yet. Our electric bill is like…$200 now. And Chris’s cell phone bill is about $200 right now.
Also, we have to find jobs. They’re not giving out extensions to people on unemployment anymore. So I Chris and I are each going to have to find part time jobs while we go to school full time (I am not going to school part time…if I do, I’ll have my associate’s degree in four years…I don’t want to wait that long. I want a house. I want my own car. I want Berlin to go to daycare. I want to be able to take her to Disney World…etc.). I don’t know how we’re going to manage it. I was thinking that I could apply to Wal*Mart and work two ten hour shifts on the weekends and then one shit over night. Before I start school, I’ll get a second job working at a restaurant so that I can make tips each day so we always have a little bit of cash on hand. I’ll quit that job before school starts but keep the job at Wal*Mart. Chris is going to school entirely online, so he can be home during the day with Berlin. There are hardly any courses for Med Lab Tech that are offered online. Aside from Psych…but that’s about it. I don’t know how Chris is going to work. One of us has to always be home with Berlin because daycare is insanely expensive (14k a year, 600 a month!) We might be able to live off of our financial aid so that he doesn’t have to work. His unemployment doesn’t run out until November. So we’ll probably do that.
The only thing that’s going to suck is that I’m going to constantly be incredibly exhausted. Going to school full time is about 40 hours a week of school work (15 hours a week classroom time) on top of working 30 hours a week. And since Chris is also going to school, I’m not sure where I’ll find the time to study. Or the time to spend with Berlin. Unfortunately, it absolutely HAS to be done. I will not spend the rest of my life struggling. I just have to work my ass off for the next two years. And hopefully I’ll still be able to manage at least a 3.8 GPA just in case I, later on, want to go to medical school.
Soooooo I will write down a task list because there was this study done about how people who make lists of stuff they have to do are significantly more likely to get them done:
1. Register for classes
2. Sign up for a week long course in Chemistry (I failed that class so badly my senior year…I took it during the semester Chris dumped me, so I never did the homework, nor did I pay attention to it. I think I got a 42.)
3. Apply to Wal*Mart and then continuously harass them until they give me a job.
4. Find a job at restaurant.
5. Register online to the edu thingy or whatever so I can accept the loans.
6. Take the math practice thing online
7. Put loan money aside to pay for classes. Make sure that Chris does the same
8. Buy books
9. I think that’s it…
Ya know.
I would always get frustrated with girls that hung out guys that treated them like absolute shit. Would use them. Or consistently cheat on them. I didn’t blame the man…I blamed them. For being weak. And then I was thrown into a situation in which I was THAT girl. I realize now that all girls are insecure. All girls want men they can’t have. Why? Because it’s more fun than being with someone who gives a shit about you. I was stuck up Chris’s ass when he was dating another girl. I threw myself at him, on a daily basis. It was fucking pathetic. But our relationship was far more exciting then than it is now. I can’t remember which is worse; feeling dead inside or wanting to die.
And I always thought that girls who cheated on their boyfriends were fucking stupid. Guess what? I am now that girl. Or was. I stopped, but I was. And I can now sympathize with them. I thought that women who slept around were total sluts. Well, I have slept with quite a few men…but I don’t feel like a slut. I mean, really…is a slut anything more than the subjective observation of the person judging them? The ladies on Sex And The City were considered to be “classy.” Charlotte was “The Prude.” Charlotte had hooked up with way more dudes than I. Granted, she is a fictional character…oh, I don’t know. In my opinion, either we’re all sluts or none of us are.
One thing I will never do is hook up with a guy who has a girlfriend. So I guess I have that going for me.
So there’s this show on HBO called “Girls” and it’s written by Lena Dunham and I absolutely looooooooooooooooooooooooove it. It’s not that it’s incredibly funny or exciting…it’s like a really GOOD book. Interesting. It’s a very good insight as to how young women function. How they think n’ shit. I wonder if there’s a new episode out?
The answer to that question is “no.”
I have also been wondering, “How the eff do I get my daughter to eat?” Seriously. I don’t even know how she’s still alive. She’s at a good weight. I’m not sure how, though. She will take like, six bites of something and then be all like “All done!” I should go on that diet. I’d like to weigh 34 pounds. I feel like CPS will be showing up at my house any day now…and it’s not like I give up easily. I will sit at the table with her, for an hour, at every meal. Is that just how much nutrition toddlers require? Maybe I’m over feeding her. It’s not like I can shove the food in her mouth. I can’t discipline her. I’m not going to scream at her, or spank her. I just want her to fuckin’ eat. Unfortunately, if the meal is like…spaghettio’s she will eat every last bite of it. But she can’t possibly live off ramen and spaghettio’s. I’m going to have to start buying her vitamins because I fear that she is going to be really unhealthy and sick all the time if I don’t. Thankfully, she’ll still eat bananas. I miss the days where she’d eat pureed veggies. Ooh! Maybe I’ll start giving her that instead of veggies.
love the way…
I’m not sure if you’re just plain fucking beautiful, or if you always knew that I had emotional masochistic tendencies. maybe you saw through me and saw the bored housewife sitting inside of my heart, and saw an opportunity to receive physical satisfaction by throwing passion laced with poison in my face, watching me chase that high around until you found something better. and we both know that it wasn’t I who dropped you. you could not care less. and it always seems that whenever i finally feel satisfied with who i am, an evil saint comes along and reminds me that i have no reason to be.
