Dependence

Sometimes, I wish I could just break out my best friend and talk to him whenever I wanted. He's notorious for lifting my mood and undoing the damage that my own brain causes to my emotional sensibility. Or some shit like that.

I am feeling particularly broken right now, on the verge of tears for reasons I can only begin to understand. I wish I could just see "(Name) is currently typing..." I know it's not much, but for some reason, those few words would just make me smile and know that something is capable of making me feel human again. Something can make me feel like I'm more than a broken shell so jagged that I repel all those around me.

I hate distance. I hate drifting apart. I miss the best friend I've talked to so many times over the past 12 years.

It's nice to know that in a house full of people, I'm the one that can be left behind without a thought. Yay.

Drunken Night

Five shots of Vodka, a combination of quality and then skyy, and two glasses of champagne.

Tonight has been a decent night.

Can someone please tell me what the hell makes me have nightmares about being forced to ingest blood from a recently dead person and then a concoction derived from the bones and remaining materials of a corpse that's been allowed a longer amount of time to decompose? I didn't watch any sort of horror movies. Instead, I listened to someone talk about his experiences during Eucharist while on too much Ritalin.

Wait... I think I have some idea after that. I need to watch something stupid.

Update

Well, dearies, I suppose it is time for an update.

I've moved. Back to the house I was living in back when I first moved to my current city. Had a few things happen. Had a roommate move out already. Been getting more social. Been hanging out with friends. Been dealing with people who like to point fingers of blame when I've been doing my part. Been adjusting to a new manager. Gotten a raise. Learned that my next raise is going to be a dollar+.

Learning more about myself in terms of the BDSM lifestyle. My most interesting conversation with someone involved had been almost completely vanilla. Mostly because I'm still a nerd.

I've dyed my hair and lost my contact... I'll be back in glasses for a while. Adjusting to that slowly. 

Blah

I'm tired of waking up feeling like I'm going to be sick... Like I've been punched in the sternum while I slept.

Can I have an entirely new body now?

Headaches

Sometimes, I wonder just how many of my headaches come from being around people who piss me the hell off and forcing myself to smile.

Sometimes, I wonder if I am too broken.

Sometimes, I think I've read too much PostSecret.

Sometimes, I smile when all I really want to do is let the walls come down and just cry.

Sometimes, I really just want to tell everyone how I really feel about them.

Sometimes, I KNOW I've read too much PostSecret.

Sometimes, I just get a style of writing stuck in my head.

Sometimes, I wonder why I didn't just do what I was planning years ago on doing on this past January 11.

You want to play stupid games, that's fine. I've dealt with stupid people playing stupid games for the entirety of my life. Those stupid games start hurting me, my friends, and just anyone who is a DECENT human being in general-- You touch on a nerve that needs to be left alone.

Someone decided to get drunk and then tried to act like he was possessed. 1) Not possible. 2) Every action from earlier in the week reeks of pre-planning of this act.

Don't fucking strike out at me or anyone I give two shits about. You do this, you get hurt. You continue to do this... You get killed.

Is my point clear enough?

The joys of the mask...

We all have masks that we put there for the rest of the world. Whether it be the congenial salesman or the person who is happy with herself, there's a mask for all of us.

I think I wear my mask too well. One comfortable with any intimacy is the face that I show to the world. Some will see that I struggle with it, while others will see the girl who has friends that she has come to trust with her life far too easily.

What about the real girl beneath? The one who forges connections on emotional levels, but when confronted with more freezes and spirals down a cycle of self abhorrence and destroyed confidence. Perhaps it is because of childhood abuse. No.... No perhaps.

Thanks family, for making the fucked up person that I am today.

It's been three and a half years, and I can't help but think I'm still broken. Not shattered like I was three years ago, but definitely not quite whole. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will be.

What brought about this realization?

I still can't read a note about someone who's passed without feeling my chest tighten a little. I can't talk much without hearing my voice get a little strained and my eyes burn ever so slightly with the warmth of unshed tears.

And I still dread the coming months of September through January. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries... In the course of five months, everything comes together and falls apart. I want to forget everything, but I feel that if I do, I'm betraying the memories of the people who are gone.

Expect slightly more morose posts in the near future from yours truly. September is less than 30 days away, and it's like an oncoming storm...