DISCLAIMER:
Pardon ahead of time. This is a whiny ass "Pity me, I'm broken" blog post. Believe me, I'm as sick of it as you will be upon reading it. My heart. My mind. My feelings, and if I keep on keeping them inside in my champagne bottle of emotions, more than what I did to my arm might happen.
ACTUAL POST:
Such a good night last night. Anything good for me always goes to shit. I can't just revel in the awesome from the night before, I always have to ruin it. I was starting to feel better after letting a dear friend and my brother know the secret I've hidden for years. I felt like things were looking up because now I've got someone on the inside to talk about these feelings. Who knows what just might be going on through my head. Unfortunately, I don't believe she knows. How can she know if I don't even know? Perhaps this post might make sense to me later on, or her. Whatever.
Let me also point out the big mistake I made the other day. When I poured out everything containing Everclear, I failed to also pour out my cheap vodka. So I write this blog almost completely smashed. Pardon the errors, I'm not really paying attention to grammar right now. The fact that I can spell is at least a testament to something.
Remember that last post I did a few hours ago? Seeing Red? It started off as me being pissed. I know exactly why I'm pissed too, but I won't tell you that. It compromises my own position. So naturally, upon growing pissed off at something I'm not going to say that is secretly something stupid, those symptoms I talked about in the last post began. First the quickened breathing through my nose. Then the puffy chest. Then my face got hot. Then I drove to Walmart to buy a 2 liter of Sam's Choice Mountain Dew to pour my cheap vodka in, because if I couldn't get what was bothering me to go away, I was going to smother it.
One of these days I'll learn that alcohol has never made a problem go away. In fact, through trial and error I learned that it brings everything to the front. ALL AT ONCE.
I am very thankful for the friendships I have now, because I swear anyone in their right mind would have turned their back on me. There's no telling what would happen if I didn't have anybody. I could probably text Chris, but he'd tell me I'm an attention whore, and who's to say he's not fucking right? Why else are there FOUR additional lines on my fucking arm? So I texted that dear friend of mine. She did what any normal friend would do and asked why I was so upset. Of course I wouldn't tell her. I told her I didn't know, but I do. I know good and damn well, but I'm almost embarrassed about it. I promise it's something stupid, because only I make stupid situations WORSE.
I'M TIRED OF LOOKING AT FUCKING BABY PICTURES ON FACEBOOK.
My apologies. I've seen about the 43890th picture of a freakin' baby today. They all look the same.
I apologize sincerely for lying, but it's best I let myself implode instead of bringing everyone down with me.
Which I'm gonna go back to me being thankful for the friends I have. Because in this sudden implosion of emotions, I began doing what I do best: pushing people away. She wants nothing more than to help and make me feel better. Offering prayers and attempts at consolation but I'm the one being a stubborn fucking motherfucker with a mouth worse than that of a sailor. I keep showing her pictures and telling her what I've done because part of my mind is SCREAMING at me to push her away. I'm only going to hurt her later and ruin it myself, might as well do it right now, right? NO. There's the much stronger part of me saying "Hey dumbass. Fucking STOP." Keep in touch, you'll notice that I talk about my mind like it's not actually part of me, but still controlling everything I do. I'm serious. I'm fucking crazy.
Like the other day, shortly after realizing, "Hey dumbass. You're gay." It started with this weight on my chest. Yeah, I got the weight of my shoulders, but all it really did was shift. With that feeling on my chest, I got this, as I often describe, beside myself feeling. Like I was watching myself to see how I'd react to this revelation. How I'd react to learning that a dear friend of mine went through the same feelings. Like none of this is real, and I'd wake up tomorrow realizing "Hey dumbass. You fabricated everything." Here's the horrifying part of it though: IT'S REAL. Her being gay? Real. My own sexuality? Real. The fact that I can't control ANY of my fucking emotions? REAL. Reality is quite unsettling, and I'm losing my fucking mind just writing this. Why? I'M OVER-FUCKING-THINKING IT.
It's something so simple (and stupid) that I've tossed and turned over and over in the back of my head until hey, I'm mad about it now. But OH NO, it doesn't stop there. Now that I'm mad about it, I've got to toss and turn it over and over in the back of my head until I'm stark raving mad about it, then I have to let all my emotions run WILD until I can no longer take it, and after a trip to Walmart, the alcohol didn't help. There's now an X and four additional lines running parallel to part of it. Fear naught, though. I didn't actually cut myself like a fucking loser (this is a poor attempt at justifiyng what I just did tomyself), but used the top of a pencil at a RAPID speed until the skin was broken. I remember in middle school kids would play this game where you ran an eraser over your arm as fast as yu could and the first one to give up because of the pain lost. I only played once and I won. Like a boss. My stepmom bitched me out later over it.
So that's what it is. That's how the X got started, based on the pictures I took of it. I guess I had thought cutting into it would be easier if I removed the top layer. I dunno.
To my one friend who activly reads my blogs, I'm sorry. I'm so deeply very sorry that I regained contact with you. Because now I'm putting you through the horrors of the inner confines of my mind. The fact that I'm even still alive right now is a testament to God's refusal to let anything happen to me, and my stubborness to live. Thank you so much for sticking by me this long, and I hope you intend to hang on for the ride, because no matter how hard the drinking binge is or how deep the cuts, deep down inside I know I'm just as fragile as I was before, ready and willing to let people in. Once you get past the picky security guard mind that is ever watchful and always guarding the walls around my heart, you're pretty much in. But no one will ever get in until I get out of my head, and it's situations like this that prove it. I let a dumb ass stupid simple thing pester the ever living HELL out of me until I got four lines on my arm.
Thank you so much, Brandiilyne, for looking out for me. Maybe one day I'll learn to look after myself.
Fuck.
-DCV-
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