'twas normal?..

Day 2 of trying to be strong and not rely on another person's presence to make my life depressionally absent, however, I'm living in the delusional thoughts of my pms-ing brain.  Of course I assume my presence is unwelcomed though clearly explained to me that I have to wake up early and the opposing personality does not and therefor I should sleep early, but as "we" all can see, 1:03am isn't particularly a preferred bedtime for one who must wake at 8:00 am. 

Day 1 was consumed by a constant marathon of unwanted flashbacks. Some from the time of my youth when my devil-like parents owned my soul and the other of the hymen-theifed boyfriend I had when I was in high school and the many other heart filled traumas I've experienced in my life all joining together in a single night's reunion.  I'm not sure what triggers them more. My constant thought of assuming dishonesty of this so-called "partnership" I have or the pms. 

I'm almost positive it has to do with both, but it also doesn't help that you're at the opposing personality's apartment, helping "him" sort through his stuff to help find a missing link to a technological dilemma, you can't help but stumble across a porn DVD, though he has shown you another disk and specifically admitted to only purchasing that one and only owning "that" one.

'tis normal for men to have porn, right?  The self conscious better half of me likes to assume that I am not hot enough nor good enough for him and I think I am boring him so therefor he must masterbate to porn in order to fulfill his fantasy of beautiful-women-fucking.  Though, when the issue is brought up, I am quickly reminded that that is not the issue.  Then again, that was about 2 months ago or a month ago. 

I can't stand the fact that my mind is consumed by the constant thought and panic of not being good enough.  I think for the first time, I am actually in love and I feel like it's specifically one way and I'm wasting my time, but then at other times I am quickly consoled by visual elements of constant eye contact and intellectually stimulating conversation. 

[Apparently, I have a lot to express tonight.]

Meanwhile, as I sit here and pity myself in agony and loneliness, I have fans who constantly tell me how wonderful I am. I can't stand it.  It drives me fucking mad!

I have a new job that has been occupying my time, which is obviously helpful, but like most good things, this job is only temporary and will end two weeks prior to the next semester.  It puts a smile on face for now, but when the sun sets and I'm willed to my pillow, the thought process begins and it's a whirlpool of emotional/psychological disaster. 

In case you're new to this "blog" [mind vomit] I am EXTREMELY hard on myself, derived from the inner voicings of my mother and the many MANY traumas that have happened in my childhood. 

I worked out today to try and boost some sort of "positive" chemicals to flow through my pathetic brain, but instead of heading to bed, I shut off the comical sitcom I often watch to make me feel better and considering it was an episode of trying to relive High School desirable dream worlds as an adult, it made me close the program, turn on Pandora, and I got to Blogger. 

This is my world.

Why am I so fucking pathetic sometimes? Three days of excitement and sure enough, night time by the third day, I am here second guess my mental progress. I feel like I'll never learn how to properly give myself credit let alone own it after achieving greatness.

My Occupation: Profession Self Sabotager.

I cut for the first time in MOOOOONNNNTHS on July 26th.   Made me feel much better, but considering it's already healing, kinda hurts me to want to cover it up again, plus I think my new boss saw the healing scars and I don't want to give her anymore reason to look at my wrists. My tattoos bring enough attention, though ironically placed there to stop the positioning of the self mutilation.. nothing else feels as good and I've learned to take a detour so as to not fuck up the $60 I've artistically applied to wrist(s). 

MAJOR FUCKING SIDE NOTE: I believe my little "boombox" "radio" "CD player" is falling apart. When I turn up the volume, sometimes it will go up and other times it will listen, and tonight it randomly turned the "Mega Bass" back on, which I don't prefer considering I live on the 2nd story of my apartment complex and it isn't a particularly desirable hour to hear one's neighbor's music through, what seem like, paper thin walls.  There is also a couple with a 1 or 2 year old who live beneath me, who ironically attended the same high school, and I would hate to inconvenience them with my modern, contemporary piano concertos.

Jesus, Christ, can you tell I'm lonely. I have a lot to say and not enough paper, nor energy or will say it, so instead I type it, hoping/praying/meditating that you all listen/read and appreciate or relate or something. 

I hope with time, age, knowledge, experience, wisdom, and will power that one day I get over/through this fucked up mindful garbage of a life and hope I can some kinda light at the end of the fucking tunnel.. and hopefully it's not a head light belonging to a big rig or bus!

I'll end on the suicidal note, for dramatic purposes, and hope you do not judge or report me. Lol.

Good night, audience. Til, next time..

'Twas normal?

I think not!

-LR.