the song that never ends

Will has been gone for 4 years today.

He has been out of my life now for longer than he was in it.

We were happy, for awhile. See… I have proof.

If I am honest, I do not remember much of those days. They are buried under the pain that came after. I look at this pictures and I do not even remember what was so funny. Why did we decide to take these photos on this particular day? Why was him eating my head so amusing? It does not even bring a smile to my face right now. It just makes me feel… blank. It has been so long since he & I were together that this seems like another version of me. One that took pictures with her boyfriend and smiled.

I wish he had not died. I wish he could see how amazing Bowie is. I wish he would have gotten some help and lived a deliriously joyful life. I wish he was around to love his parents. I miss playing board games with him or asking him which superhero would beat whom. No one plays this game with me anymore. No one cares about the stupid shit I go on about – I mean he did not either but at least he would pretend to while he was drawing or playing a game.

I lost my best friend when he died. I have been so fucking alone.

Fuck mental illness. Fuck suicide.

You are missed, Will.

Tagged :

stronger than me

The days tick by as they always do. Today was fun and I got a lot done. Productivity makes you feel good, right? I am going to put my CV back up because these side hustles as not keeping me occupied enough. Once I am vaccinated, I am going back to full-time employment.

Gulp.

I am going to talk to my therapist about this, of course. I need some help making this transition. I have no idea what I am doing. I just know that I need more in my life than kids, crafts, the occult & the never ending story.

Give me a purpose that makes the hours go by outside my kitchen please? I have given the planet some fucking delightful humans, I have educated myself to the top of my eyebrows & my goodness, if I do not do something that gives me a reason to wear my fabulous wardrobe out of doors…

I have enough income to get by and still buy what I want. It has nothing to do with that. I know my boredom is going to consume me if I have one more snowfall without something to do.

And no, a boyfriend is not going to cut it. As a matter of fact, if I get to watch one more significant other leave everyday to have a life outside while I wash dishes and darn socks I am going to scream.

Why did I bother to get all of these smarts if I am never going to use them? Just to attract nerds? 😂

LET ME OUT

also, I sent this yesterday. I had to break it up into two messages because it was too long and would not send. No, he did not reply.

Super surprised but I thought he should know.

Wth with this weather?!

I was feeling a bit shitty so I ordered myself a dress:

I try not to lean on retail therapy but that one was too cute to pass up.

Okay, gym clothes on. I have decided to run all of my woe away. So far, so good. 😬

Tagged : / /

roll charisma

I need to step back a moment and reflect on this. Too many people see this as a problem for it not to be. I am too close to it, I am prone to idealising situations & underestimating the damage they are causing. I feel that I am being undervalued, true. But when I am in the spotlight, I feel lovely. Sadly, those days are not enough for me to defend this vigorously enough anymore. Yes, the days or words are greater now than they were this time last year but come on now, we are in a MUCH different place than were last year.

I would like to mention, however, when he shut me off last year, he was vigorous in his conversations with others. He was always online. Now he is on, but just a bit. It is not like he is on for hours & hours like he was before (not that I have noticed. If I am talking to someone else, I might see him come on once, maybe twice all night). So, I know he is ignoring me, leaving me unread for days, which I loathe (“hey? I am busy/tired, talk later?” Fuck, why is that hard? You obviously have the ability to talk to someone else.) but it is not a full-scale Friday night party. He often contacts me on the weekend for a bit, talks to me until Tuesday & disappears for the rest of the week again for no real reason.

He knows I hate this and for no other reason, he should not be doing it.

I want out, guys. I know, I know, hang in there but what about me? I do and do for him but what does he do for me?

Nothing.

He does nothing for me. I play by his rules 100% of the time.

I want a sense of stability & normalcy back in my life… even if that means I will be alone.

GOD DAMN IT I AM ALONE EVERY FUCKING NIGHT ANYWAY.

I have never been more alone than I have been since I met Eirik. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

At least this way I would be alone because I chose it. Not because I was bound by loyalty.

Fuck, how do I get myself into these situations? Better than that, how do I get myself out of it?

Tagged : / /

you always were the one to show me how

Watching old NIN snippets that I have from random shows that I have. Man, I miss live music! 2020 has taken away travel and that has been my way of coping with stress across the board – and I always left my life to go and listen to music.

Last week, I considered taking my life. Here is what happened and why:

My subconscious voice (we call her Felicia in conversation), was trying to help me cope because all of my very few tools were exhausted. As most of us know, our subconscious is there to guide us and keep us safe.

I could not run anywhere. I had no future plans for a holiday or a move. I had nothing to focus on. I was trapped in the crippling now and how much pain I was in.

Why was I in pain? The old story was being repeated even though he said it was not going to be. Is there blame to be put there? No. We are past that. It just needs to be seen for what it is not and let go. Feelings do not need to be justified to have them.

I tried to communicate with him so I would know what to do next. That was not helpful. I did not know how to talk to others about it because he has been prejudged as a negative influence by most and I should just walk away. Even when I explained that this was only a quarter of one side of the story. That is just how it is with people. They saw my pain and said, “Nope, stop this now. He is not holding up his end of the bargain, find someone that will.” End of story.

Even though when they are in similar situations, they hang on until the bitter end and we are supposed to nod our heads and agree.

Humans are hypocrites. We cannot help ourselves. Love us anyway.

So after a week of nothingness, I woke up in a cold sweat and thought very carefully about how I did not want another year of my life to look, feel, or taste like this.  I had plenty of heartache for a dozen people. I would not be happy, why should I bother any longer? No one would blame me. The understanding would be universal. I was sure people would be cross but no one would question my motives.

My subconscious did not speak up against me. It soothed me and told me it was fine to go now. I had done all I could and this method would be the best way to go.

I felt peace for the first time in I cannot tell you when.

Then I slept. Real sleep, in the blackness, no ghosts, no gasping for air, just a void in which time went by.

When I woke up again, my conscious self knew it had a script to rewrite.

The words flew out of me like the breath from my nostrils. I did not know I had been holding it in for so long.

I do not need anyone to make this life liveable for me. That was always for me to do. I do not know why this is a fact I keep dismissing. No one has ever bothered properly but that is okay – I know I am worthy. I know my value. I know who I am.

I had to consider ending my life to find it.

Tagged : / / /

remember me

I have never really thought much about the legacy I would be leaving behind until I remembered that if the internet crashes, so many “important” people will not longer be so important. History is being diluted by youtubers and influencers and that is sort of sad but amusing at the same time. I feel like that is the sign of the times – people are all instant gratification and no commitment. The “no pain, no gain” slogans of the 80’s are just faded baseball caps, t-shirts and bumpers stickers now. You do not have to work for anything. You just need to have a catchy gimmick to get people to stare at their devices for a while and you stick and ad to it and boom! you have a paycheck.

The viewers are (mostly*) idiots. The people who designed it are geniuses.

Back to my original thought, though. I had hoped that no one would think about me when I left this 3D existence. I am just not all that memorable. I hope I made a few people happy, I hope I taught a few people a few interesting things. Maybe I bothered a few people enough to make them tell a couple of stories that turned into an urban legend or two… but let us be honest, I am just not that compelling.

I am surprised I lived to be this old. I thought for sure I would be dead before I was 30 (I am told this is a common thought amongst the young. Weird, huh?). I thought for sure I would be married forever, even when I was miserable for most of it. To be fair, I have always been a low level of melancholia. I had been waiting for someone to care for me, to make me feel safe.

No one did. Quite the opposite, really.

It took all of my life to understand that it was me that had to do these things. I had to care about me. I had to create a life where I was free of fear.

I have wondered if I attracted people that were exactly what I feared?

If you consider that you are the main character in your story and you write every other character to your liking, you can only invite in what you know. You cannot create kind, loving & good people if you have never known them. And when you do run into them, you are often distrustful of them because they are alien to you so you walk away from them. Even if you dislike being treated badly, it is what you know. And we do like being comfortable. Even if that comfort is laying in a pile of shit.

If that pile of shit has always been your home, moving from it seems daunting.

When you make the move to a white sofa, full of fluffy cushions, all clean and smelling fresh, you might think, “wow, this is so nice!”

And then will leave everything behind again for that pile of shit. You will not be able to explain why. Returning to your white sofa life will leave stains, but you will try again.

And again.

Until one day you decide that maybe a black futon makes more sense? It will hide the stains better.

As time goes on, you visit that shit pile less and less and when you do, you stay for shorter durations.

But you do not kid yourself, you know you are going back. It is part of who you are.

(*yes, I am aware there is some useful content on youtube.)

Tagged :

beating that damn dead horse

I am sorry that you do not have someone by your side to comfort you during these uncertain times.
I am sorry that your normal daily distractions are not there to alleviate the heaviness of your loneliness.
I am sorry that the silence is deadly and you cannot count on the noise to make you forget.
I am sorry that it feels like everything you have ever done to ease the pain has vanished and you are faced with this monster again.

I wish you had not pushed me away so I could be there for you.

Tagged : /

this is what makes us girls

I had a friend in high school that was in love with a friend of ours. She wrote stories about him that were sweet and they always got married in them. He was nice about it but he was the kind of guy that slept around and was not interested in a relationship and he knew she was a ‘good girl’.

At a party after homecoming, he slept with her. She was over the damn moon. She followed him around like a puppy and thought that was it, they were finally together. He appeased her for a while but after a week or so of this, he pulled her aside and told her that he was not into the idea of being with one girl. She thought that was okay, as long as he would be with her, too.

Things got messy quickly.

He was sleeping with her and still messing around with whomever he pleased. She would call him at all hours of the night wonder why he was not answering her calls. She would show up at his house, his friends’ houses… eventually she showed up at my house (which was an orphanage, by the way), knowing that I had to know where he was. The staff at my house was displeased but seeing how upset she was, they let me defuse the situation.

I was the only girl in the house he had not slept with. I explained this to her. She thought about the girls she knew lived there and she looked ill. I went down the list of people I knew for sure he had fucked. He was not in this to get close to anyone, he was in it to “hit it and quit it”. Yeah, sometimes he was chatty and he was sweet. Sometimes he even dated a little bit. But he never got close to anyone. He was repelled by the thought, I told her. Women serve one purpose to him and one purpose only – to get him off.

She sat on the sidewalk on Smith Street in Providence and cried. I remember thinking that I never wanted to know how she felt right then. She had been used even though she knew exactly who he was. She thought that having sex with him, a friend would mean that he would love her. She thought if she loved him more than anyone else had, he would love her back. I did not know how to comfort her, so I gave her some LSD.

We were tripping in school and I told her that boys were gross and all we needed in life were good shoes and drugs. She agreed. I think I also decided I was a lesbian and I was going to live in London and write books in a tiny flat and smoke pot in a beautiful kimono. That might have been a different trip we had. They get mixed up. She cried on and off but she forgot why she was crying. She told me he had a small penis. I told her I knew, I had seen it a bunch of times. We laughed and got thrown out of class.

I decided that day that love was bullshit and I was not going to do it. Men were assholes no matter how pretty, smart or talented they were. Even if they were your friends. They would tell you gorgeous tales and share your grief and tell you how amazing you are and turn you on thirty ways until Sunday and they will take you to bed just to never talk to you like that again because all of those words were a fucking fairy tale. They say whatever they need to just to get into your knickers. They are not sensitive nor do they care. They can and will hurt you. Save your precious hearts and drop some acid and buy some good boots. Write the novel the beatniks have been snapping their fingers for, yeah? No good is here with men because they do not know how to love with tenderness because they have not been taught how. Even if you care for them, even if you curl your softness around their shards of one-night stands, you cannot heal them because, girl, they like to be hollow. It is the only way they know they are alive. Happiness is a fantasy to them that only hippies and influencers have because they are trying to shove it down their throats for a price. Loving them will only tear your exquisite heart to pieces and they would gladly stomp on the confetti’d remains as you sit in heap on the floor sobbing.

London is calling.

 

p.s.- Women are assholes too, I know that. I have heard stories of women cheating on “perfectly good men”. One of these stories I would also like to share.

A male friend of mine was being cheated on for the last three months of his five-year relationship. He was devastated when he found out. He could not figure out what had gone wrong. I was livid that she did this so I confronted her. Her side of the story was that he stopped paying attention to her. Every time she tried to get him to, he was busy or on the pc, or whatever. When she wanted to end it, he guilt-tripped her.

Should she have cheated? Certainly not. Was it a maliciously done act? No. People need to be paid attention to! If you do not have the ability to mind your significant other, end the relationship so they can find happiness elsewhere.

p.s.s. – I am writing this all out a few hours before I have to go in for surgery. You guys know how I get before a surgery day. My anaemia makes it where I could bleed out. My risks are higher than the average person. I know I will probably be fine, but just in case I am not… I always write letters to my loved one & I clear my mind of the garbage that is stored in it. If I do not die, I often delete the trash post or I edit the mess out of it.


…and with that, I hope this is not the last story I tell but if it is, it was not a lousy one!

Love you guys <3

edited later:
this was the last “normal” conversation day I had with Eirik. It is some day in May that I am editing this. Just thought I would add this so one day when he and I are blissfully happy together (or we have totally forgotten each other), this day is bookmarked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tagged :

This side of blue

I found this in my email:

I am not going to be one of those fools who holds on to false hope. If no hope is ever false, then still working towards the fictional light at the end of the tunnel would be a smart thing, yes? Well, it is not. The truth’s staring me in the face, there is no point denying it anymore.

I heard it said once that a lady always knows when to walk away. 

I want to be a lady.

I know there is nothing to be gained from whining incessantly about everything that’s going on or to allow disappointment to settle in over small, stupid empty promises. I know this is only temporary and that for the most part, I have got a pretty good gig here.

I am just so, so tired of everything blowing up in my face and no one really giving a damn unless it affects them personally. Hardly anything works out in my favour. That is not a complaint; it is an observation. What keeps me going is the prospect of a harmonious compromise. Maybe I can not have everything I want, but if I can have maybe the slightest hint of it by way of making someone else happy, then it should be worth it, right? Absolutely. I still stand by that and always will. I am just beginning to resent people overlooking the good that I try to do a daily basis. No, I am not expecting praise. I do not want to be ‘rewarded’. That is not how I get my gratification. But when sincere gestures and honest efforts are so casually tossed aside yet every single one of my shortcomings are counted, weighed, and measured, I get hurt. I act like it just rolls off my back and I make smart ass comments, sure. But come on. It is a matter of pride. The reality is that I am not made of wood and it fucking hurts. 

Especially when it happens all the time.

So I think I am just going to lie low for a while. I really do not see the point in investing in anything beyond this point. So long as I keep my responsibilities in check and my immediate needs are being met, that will be fine with me. 

At least for the time being. 

I have been wanting to disappear for a while now.