Like Tupperware, space saving, yet a pain in the ass...
Who knows, really. All I know, what I write is what I feel.
Sorry in advance.
I'm not completely crazy.
I wish you were mine, I feel like I'm losing you and I don't even have you.
I wish that you weren't hurt before.
Hate me today, hate me tomorrow.
I would never hurt you, I hope someday you can realize this.
No one really knows who I really am.
I guess everyone will now.
Either that or they will force me into some kind of government program to make me think and act like them.
I think maybe I have an easier time moving on because I'm constantly analyzing myself and my behaviors...just in the habit though, to prevent myself from going off track too badly.
Everyone wears blinders.
I am spiritually and philosophically above most people, but emotionally and mentally I am extremely below.
I really did go crazy in 2003, but then I became accustomed to the free and quiet place to stay, the time away from my husband and kids, catching up on all the lost sleep and being high on drugs provided at no cost by the American government and I pretended to be longer so I could relax and be high on free drugs.
It proved to be a difficult routine to get out of.
I couldn't think or function on the thousands of milligrams of anti-psychotics, but I couldn't do those things without them for a LONG time either.
Jake figured it out the morning when he tried to kill me in March; about me just pretending, but because he was drunk and high at the time, it escalated beyond just an arguement.
My mostly unintelligible, opressive remarks and humiliating comments probably didn't help the situation either.
I was high too, just on my prescribed drugs. I couldn't seem to keep my mouth closed and said a lot of things I definitely shouldn't have and really didn't mean.
I was just looking for a quick defense and a good comeback rather than facing the truth:
I was addicted to my precribed medications.
It was really neither of our faults completely. It was the product of a immature whirlwind relationship under too much pressure from several angles and the horrid impression of drugs and alcohol on something already very strained and delicate.
We were best friends. We were barely lovers.
We had no idea what we were doing or what to do next.
Our relationship was more like an experiment it seems like.
We were both too immature, stubborn, clueless and had no self-awareness.
I told him what to do and not to do a lot. I was wrong.
He told me who not to talk to a lot. That was wrong.
We were both amazed at the fact the other wanted to be with them.
Neither of us had any self-confidence to speak of.
I would say it was infatuation, but there wasn't much of a physical relationship there.
Maybe infatuated with each other's interest in ourselves.
I despise money and wish I could live without it. I can't because I have kids to care for.
I hate having or owning stuff, I don't see the point.
I think the government is bullshit. It's all a conspiracy.
I hate my country.
Every country has the same amount of problems, just not the same ones.
Free speech isn't a right. It's just something they claim you can have, but then they get pissed off if you say anything adverse about them.
Every system is corrupted, because people, in general, are evil and greedy.
The justice system is nothing but a front and a pile of bullshit and lies.
All these thoughts are not about the same subject.
I pretend like I don't care about ninety nine percent of the time when really, I'm dying inside.
I've tried to kill myself more times than I can count.
I gave up trying awhile back.
My last attempt was in December 2004.
My mom is happy now.
There was a whole side to her that no one ever knew.
I'm a lot like her and that makes me furious for no reason.
She always craved attention from guys because her own father was a complete fucking demonic idiot.
He will suffer next time.
She was controlling.
So am I.
I don't want to be.
I can't help it generally, but sometimes I can stop myself.
I have no patience for almost everything.
I feel like I'm the only one who can do things the right way.
I am right about that almost one hundred percent of the time.
No one understands me, so usually, I don't even bother trying to explain.
I'm competitive and can't stand to lose. I always insist on having what I go after. Sometimes it costs too much, but not necessarily monetarily.
I desperately need help doing things, but am too full of my own ego to ask.
Everyone thinks I am a strong person.
I'm pathetically weak.
I'm afraid to lose.
My oldest daughter is not my ex-husband's biological daughter.
I have thought about walking away from everything almost daily since the age of ten.
I've come close a few times.
Too many people depend on me.
Ninety-eight percent of people who talk to me only talk to me because they are trying to get into my pants.
The other two percent I'm related to.
I'm not a whore.
I have died twice.
Would have been 3, but an angel saved me and the second time my ex-husband brought me back.
I had to come back to save him from himself.
There is no one to save me from my insanity.
I wasn't doing what everyone thought when I was stuck in Phelan with Jake.
I never planned on getting back together with him after he tried to kill me in March.
I agreed to help him, because no one wants a homeless heroin addict for a dad.
Just ask my brother or I and neither do my kids.
I thought I would always resent my mother for taking my kids when she had no idea what I was really doing, but it quickly went away when she died.
I think she took it with her.
They have bigger trash cans in the afterlife.
I have almost no self-confidence, but I sure can pretend I do.
That is a whole other long story.
One day, I will explain all of this in more depth so it makes sense.
I didn't ask for this.
You left me with nothing that I had before.
I come from some fucked up shit over the last quarter of a century and a lot of what happens and how I act is a result of that so I have to keep myself in check often.
I really hate my body.
I'm not fat.
I hate what kids and disease have done to me.
I wish I was who I was before.
I want to go back to the fork in the road.
I hate people. No, seriously.
The only place I seem to be able to think clearly is in the shower, but I can't take the computer in the shower for some reason... ..it just won't fit.
I just want some peace.
I care about too many people, because it cuts into what I care for myself.
It's impossible to be honest with people, because they cannot accept the truth and they never want to hear it.
People think they can fool me, but I can see them for who they really are.
I used to carve my thoughts into my skin, for a long time, ending about 7 years ago.
That's only partly why I never showed my body.
I am spiritual. However, I don't believe in the name God or Jesus, I don't believe in church (but I take my kids anyways) and I don't believe a large percentage of the words in the Bible.
I believe in life after death in the form of a sanctuary. Not called heaven or hell, per se, but a single place for all that is peaceful and relaxing for your soul and you're aware of everything there and what is happening in this dimension until you move to your next stage of life and you forget your past one and the serene place you went after.
If you are rotten, evil and uncaring on the inside, all the church, Bible reading and praying won't do a damn thing for you... (I'd like to dedicate this one to all the fuckers in my neighborhood especially.)
I make all my decisions based on my kids' best interests.
I resent them for that.
I resent having to be the one to care for them.
I never wanted to have kids.
I know that it is wrong to feel like this.
I can't help it.
It makes me feel awful and selfish.
I never wanted to be married either.
He asked six times over 6 months.
I called his bluff.
One of my missions in life was to help him so he could complete his.
Things aren't going as agreed.
Why is everything my problem?
Must be nice...
I don't know why it is you keep telling me what you think I want to hear, because in all honesty, all I want to hear is truth.
I would like to chop Paul Paulson's nuts off with a rusty, sharpened butter knife.
I was raped.
Not just once.
I try to pretend like I don't need anyone, but really I'm seemingly co-dependent.
If he is ever found by me, I will go to prison for life.
I have no time, energy or patience for anything less than the truth.
There are many instances of where just paying attention to what is going on totally blows someones cover when they try to lie to me.
I yell a lot.
You can't lie to me.
I'll find out.
I feel kinda like I am just a rest stop for you sometimes.
Everyone is fake.
Crazy people shouldn't be allowed to have relations with anyone of any kind.
I hate not knowing anything, because I'm an open and honest person. I have nothing to hide nor do I want to hide anything. It frustrates me when people do that.
I love you.
I don't understand you sometimes.
I wish I was as important as everyone else is.
I have been used at one time or another by EVERYONE I know.
This whole situation is starting to get depressing.
Why do I have to be the one to sacrifice for them? I didn't do it alone and it wasn't my idea.
I'm afraid of being alone.
I don't get along with anyone.
No one cares what I want, as long as they have what they want.
I give in too easily.
I feel stupid and whiny (AKA: emo) for writing this.
I like making people happy if they think about me later because of it.
Suburbia and I don't get along.
I have prayed to God to take my breath while I was sleeping more times than I can count.
I'm stuck in someone else's dream and it is a nightmare to me.
I'm not as cool as heroin.
I've never done it.
I don't plan on it.
I guess I will never know.
I have never had a fear of dying.
I was always the kid to take in the strays and I haven't ever stopped.
I hate that.
I really despise anyone who doesn't return the help.
Even if it is just kind words, it would change my opinion completely.
I'm not as dumb as I look or act.
I'm sick of being unappreciated.
Sometimes I wonder if I am really crazy.
I worry how I will make it through every single day.
I don't see myself in the future. It makes me curious.
You just think this is about you.
I just want to eat, drink, smoke weed, go see shows and sleep.
I can't do any of those.
I can't get along with most girls because they are too superficial and shallow among other things.
I was molested by 2 people as a kid. One was a kid themselves.
I hate drama.
My mom thought that because all my friends were guys that I was fucking them all. She called me a slut and whore often. Seems that everyone else thinks that too. It's not true. Many (not all) of them have tried, but next to none were successful.
I'm really picky.
I like to be comfortable.
Make-up, skirts and heels are not comfortable.
I share more interests with guys. I don't know much about girl stuff, because I never learned. I'm not interested.
I slept with a girl before I ever slept with a guy.
I've always liked girls, but didn't want people I'm related to making comments. Now I just don't care, because I'm sick of pretending that I like guys.
I want to live at the beach, since I can't live underwater.
I hate the snow.
I have to go wherever is best for the kids whether I want to or not. That makes me angry when I think about it.
I wish you would just tell me wtf in the first place.
I despise my in-laws because of their "better than thou" attitude. They are by far no better than ANYONE else. Fucking snakes.
My "ex-husband" isn't my ex yet. We are still married. Just separated. Doesn't bother me, most of the time. Not many people know that we are still married, because I don't consider us to be.
There is no possibility of us ever getting back together.
He has permanent brain damage from overdosing on so many drugs...anyone who knew him before can tell the difference. (But that isn't why.)
I hate guessing.
I'm no good at it.
I cry only when I'm by myself.
I'm afraid of people seeing me cry.
I don't want to look weak.
I never like for people to know they got the best of me or that they got to me.
I'm an expert at pretending like I don't care. Sometimes, I do it without realizing it.
I make people mad all the time. Sometimes on purpose, but usually on accident.
I don't know when to shut up sometimes.
Other times, I know when to, I just don't want to.
It frustrates me that I can't figure out what is going on.
No one ever says anything until it is too late.
I used to make fun of people.
I only have one secret that no one knows, the rest of me is out here on display.
I had an abortion October 2005 and it haunts me everyday.
Now I have no secrets that no one knows.
I can't even handle 3 kids alone.
I like to pretend that I am clueless a lot of the time. It amuses me to let people think they have fooled me.
I'm a firm believer in the "Get it yourself, asshole" system in my house.
More people should be taught how to clean up after themselves.
I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I am a neat freak and a perfectionist. I don't see how that is harmful enough to be a disorder.
Unless of course, you're forced to be somewhere messy and chaotic, then a panic attack ensues.
I've been using the word "ensue" a lot the last couple months.
Everyone is in denial. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's not.
I'm an emotional wreck.
Yeah, I'm perfectly aware that I'm a bitch. Thank you.
I bet you're just thrilled, eh? Anyways, whatever.
Let the gossip commence...backstabbing bitches.