Monday, March 25, 2013

Long shot

Just when I didn't think anything else could go wrong, it did. I've been working on this shit for six months. I've spent almost all of my free time and money on it. And now that I may not be able to go, four days before the competition, I feel at such a loss. I haven't felt disappointment like this in a long time. I can remember exactly when that last time was, and I can hear their voices in my head telling me that I would never be able to do it. My reason for persevering is to prove that I can. I want to prove it to myself more than anything, but it would be nice to silence the voices in my head that have been chirping away at me for years telling me that someone like me will never be able to succeed to any great degree, especially in the entertainment industry. I know you were wrong then, and you are just as wrong now. I don't want this to be the end of this journey for me. I don't want to have worked this hard just to not even be able to show up. This is too important for me to just let go and go home, even though that would be the easy thing to do. It would be the most comfortable thing too. I wouldn't have to worry about having a meltdown or making a fool of myself. I wouldn't have to worry about having to go it alone. I wouldn't have to worry about forgetting how to talk to important people. I wouldn't have to be afraid of proving them right. I am bigger than all of the bad things that happen to me. It doesn't look good right now, but the only thing I can do is trust that the right thing will happen in the end, and I will end up where I need to be. I am not even able to cry. I can't scream. It is all just held inside of me. But it's not the same as before. It's not that getting-ready-to-explode-out-of-your-skin feeling. It's fuel burning inside of me. But I need to learn how to control the flame. I will work until the very last hour. Why would I operate under the assumption that I am going to fail? I can do this. I need to do this. And I will do this.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Solo

I need to write before I start working on the things that I was supposed to have started either some time last night or earlier today. I don't even know how to describe what happened, let alone do it without getting myself upset all over again. Everything has gone wrong from the very beginning. And this doesn't make me feel very good about the upcoming weekend. I love how it's probably the most important weekend of the year for me, and that there are a few people who actually enjoy seeing me this way. Thanks for letting me know that you would rather lie in your bed all day than come pick me up when I really needed your help. I feel so fucking great about myself. If you were the only person that had managed to show how little they cared this weekend, I'd probably be okay with it since you did this all the time when I lived here anyway. I don't know how I feel about coming back now that all this has happened. Sometimes it feels like everything is okay. I love the city itself. But if it's going to be worse than being at home, why would I want to come back?
Is it better to be completely fucking alone or to have friends like this? Should I shut myself away in a town with no hope or let myself get abused just to feel a few minutes of happiness every now and then when someone thinks enough of me to ask me to do something?
I can't even count how many people only talk to me when they need something from me. And that's when they act like they care. And it hurts because I am literally fooled by this EVERY TIME.
I trust people, and this is probably my worst quality.
My willingness to trust has ruined my life more than once. And it continues to hurt me every time I need to rely on someone else. Every time I really think I have people I can count on, I am reminded that I am the only person who cares enough to want to do something for me. I am the only person that I matter to, and that's getting harder and harder for me. The people I thought were my closest friends don't really care, it seems. And then there are people I barely know who would give me the shirts off their backs if I really needed them. And this makes me feel worse as well. Have I just picked shitty friends? Or do people just become this way toward me after they have gotten close to me?
I am not going to be bitter and refuse to help you when you need me. And that just means I am going to get hurt yet again. I don't even want to bring it up because there's nothing that's going to change. And I told my mom that I either have these friends or no friends.
Maybe it doesn't matter where the fuck I go. I'll probably be this lonely and upset wherever I end up. I'll probably just hide away wherever I go.
There is nothing happening in my life to indicate that anything will get any better for me. Time doesn't change things. Doing things changes things. And I am doing nothing. I am going nowhere. And I am alone. And I have felt this way for so long that I don't know how to feel any other way. I don't have that one person that I can count on to come rushing by with a strawberry milkshake when I am feeling down. I don't have that person that I can call at four in the morning when I can't sleep. I haven't known what it's like to have a real friend in years. And I am starting to think that it might have been better to never have known. Didn't have a problem when I was a little kid because I didn't know what having friends really meant. I was fine being by myself and thought that's what everyone did.
Now, I just feel like shit ALL THE TIME.
Nothing is helping. I haven't felt okay in like two years. I have some good days. But most of the time, I'm unhappy. And not just unhappy. I wake up and already want it to be over. Most days, I have to convince myself to stay alive. And I don't know how much longer I can do this. I'm going to end up doing something stupid. Not killing myself. I'm not there yet, but I've been down that road before. But I mean something that might kill me in the end anyway. I could quit my job and run away. That's been on my mind for some time now. Just to leave one day and figure out how to get my stuff after the fact. I don't even care where I end up anymore. If I'm alone in my head, I might as well be alone in person because then I wouldn't have to fight with myself trying to be okay with people.
My head has been spinning all day. I feel sick to my stomach. I'm sweating, and it's hard to breathe. It's fine when this happens in an instant when we feel like something bad is going to happen. Like how you feel like when you almost fall down the stairs. But imagine that feeling for hours or even WEEKS at a time. Then YEARS. Imagine living your fucking life in that state and trying desperately your whole like to get away from that feeling. It's impossible anymore. And I don't know how anyone could want to live like this.
There is a voice inside my head that tells me that I don't have a choice in the matter.
But there is another voice that is much darker and scarier. And it knows that I do.
I have wanted to scream and cry about everything all day. And nothing is happening. I feel like I am going to explode soon. And that is not an exaggeration. If you could envision everything inside of you burning and swelling up, putting pressure on every part of your body. Making you twitch in ways that you can't control. Making you unable to control any reaction you have without causing you even more physical and mental pain. That's what it is like. On a good day.
And it's never going to change.
I used to think I'd outgrow this. But I am terribly depressed by the fact that I will always be this way. And always being this way is what is going to cause me to be alone forever. And it makes me feel like I deserve everything that happens to me and more. Like it's all my fault anyway. And that's exactly what everyone else wants me to feel because no one wants to take responsibility for any pain that they have caused another person. Except the ones who enjoy it.
I feel terrible in every way that you can. And after a few years of this, it's become clear that nothing and no one can help me. I'll either figure it out on my own or I will not. And I don't exactly have the best track record for that. I'm smart enough to know when I have reached the point of no return. It was just too much. All of my life has just been too much for me to handle without getting fucked up beyond salvation. I don't know how. But I lost. And I am still losing this battle. I wish it would take me instead of my having to make that decision. Either way, everyone will say it is my fault.
Everyone will say that I had everything and there was no reason.
But it doesn't matter what you have when you feel like you have absolutely nothing, and the only thing you can think about is how you used to have a good life.
I see that good life being lived by someone else. Multiple people most of the time. I can't say much more.
I'm never going to be okay again.
I feel older than I ever have. And more helpless.
I want to scream about how unfair this is. But that doesn't matter. Fairness doesn't exist. And even if it were considered fair, I probably deserve it or should have at least expected it. I don't know why I continue to be surprised that everything about my life sucks. I don't know why I have to keep holding on to the idea that maybe someday I'm going to be okay. No one can prove to me that anything will get better, and I am sick of people telling me that it just will. It won't. Things don't get better if you don't fucking do anything about them. People don't get better unless they know how. And I don't. There are so many more things wrong with me than there are right these days. And I don't feel like putting on a mask for everyone else. I don't feel like going in to do anything for anyone when I feel like this. I don't care about anyone else right in this moment because all I want to do is survive. And it's even hard to care about me. To fight the voice that wants me to give up. It makes the most sense to give up. It's so much more painful to carry on and I don't even know if it will be worth it.
I just fucking can't do this.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Getting some thoughts out

Racism is not funny to me. And i am not sorry. There is no reason to laugh when your elder son's response to his lifting partner's nazi tattoos is "it keeps the riff raff away." How do you even laugh at that as a human being, let alone a parent? Isn't that one of those things that should concern you? I don't even say anything these days. It doesn't seem worth it when you know nothing is going to change. I just did not need to hear any of this on my way home. Or my father pretending that he understood anything that my brother was saying about physics. And of course it didn't matter what i said. It never does. He just keeps going on about what my brother said as if i never even said anything. I have been learning not to care that i am the less important child. The one who is somehow always wrong. It is much harder to deal with being told i need to be more like my brother, who has been in prison for 8 years and pretty much hates everyone who isn't a straight, white, Catholic male.

Racism is not funny. And femininity is not weak. It took me a long time to learn both of those, but sadly it took longer to learn the latter. So many people are taught that being feminine equates with being weak that even some who would consider themselves "strong women" find themselves believing it. They complain about feminine women. They call them useless and weak. Weakness is what is weak. You need to learn the difference. On the same note, it is a shame that some strong women feel pressured into subduing some aspects of femininity in order to maintain that reputation of strength. It is a shame that some feminine women are similarly afraid to be strong. It is a shame that men cannot express feminine attributes without having their manhood questioned. It is painful to watch parents reinforce these stereotypes over and over again. It is painful to watch some of my friends act them out. It is the same play over and over again. And i do not know how people can be this blind.

I am enraged when i hear stories about how a man who makes hundreds of thousands of dollars a year got through high school and then college by playing sports and the. Having other people write his papers for him. And this man is in charge of people like me. People who actually kind of gave a shit. It makes me upset to learn that a classmate of mine who got straight C's has a research job at the school from which i graduated and that i have been turned down by literally over one hundred similar positions. What the hell have i done wrong with my life? Where is the justice in any of this, and who is making these decisions? When i see how things have played out so far, it makes me want to give up completely. I honestly did all the right things. And it did not work for me. And now i feel that i can do nothing right.

I feel that i am becoming comfortable in this state of dependence, and i am frightened by it. I know i need to leave here before the year is out. It has been a year already, and my self-sufficiency has decreased. I am more afraid to venture out on my own or take any risks. I am constantly seeking help from other people instead of making my own decisions. I need to go back to my real home. It is starting to feel like a prison here again. This has nothing to do with my family. Or my mother, i should say. I am so grateful for the time we have had and that is one thing i absolutely do not want to lose. I will miss seeing her every day and doing things with her. I will miss the few friends i have made here, and i will miss my nephew. I will miss the studio. I will miss the security of this house. But i cannot stay if i ever hope to get out of this rut. I want my own life and my own family. I want to be something more. I don't hate myself. But i would hate to be the same self for the rest of my life.

I do not feel that i am able to concentrate on what needs to be done. And that has a lot to do with never being by myself. I literally never get the opportunity to just be alone and work it out. Any time there is another presence here, a part of me is on guard, and i am not relaxed. I am not able to be at my best, and over time, that really adds up. I need a release. I need to just fucking find a cabin in the woods.

Scranton is celebrating this weekend. And i do not want to be anywhere near that. But i don't really fancy being around a 55 year old man who does the same thing twice a week (at least it isnt every night like it used to be, if you want to side with my mother). Maybe if you stopped drinking an entire case by yourself every few days, stopped spending all that money every week on comic books, and did anything other than look at toy prices online and play on facebook, you would have a job. I really dont mean to sound as angry as i do about it. I know he used to work hard at his job. And he used to be very good at it. But nearly a year of sitting around waiting for the perfect job has not been good for him. I see the similarity with my situation and it scares me. I do not want to become anything like him. I feel sorry for him in some ways, but that is not something he will understand. But he also doesnt take kindly to the truth. Do you think i wanted to work at best buy? Really? I am doing what i have to do. I needed any job at all, and we are approaching that point. All that time we were worried about losing the house, and you both just kept thinking you had time. That everything would be okay. When he gets a job. When he gets a job. And i would ask what if he doesnt? And the only answer you could give was that he has to. You cant lose 40,000 dollars a year-soon to be 60,000 when the unemployment runs out next month--and live the same life. There are so many people on unemployment now who truly need the money to survive. And so many people who are denied or cannot get it for whatever reason. And it all just does not make sense to me. I wish i could understand. I dont understand very much about people anymore.

I saw a little girl reading a book today. I wanted to hug her mother. I seriously think this might have been the first child i have witnessed reading in over a year. Most of them are just playing games on an ipad when i see them. On a related note, i wanted to buy a magazine today but i could not afford it with what i had on me. This makes me sad.

I am still sick and my head hurts. I almost lost my job. I have had a fever for four days straight, and i could barely stand yesterday. I was shaking and had to support myself by leaning against the wall by the register all day. I cannot call ofd because i cannot get a doctor's note to make up for the absence. And if i wanted to urgent care i would have pay for the cab ride there and back and then the fee there as well. Just for them to tell me what i already know. That i am severely ill and should not go to work. But why give me full time when you already have me working 38 hours a week at part time and dont need to give me insurance or sick days or vacation? When you know i cant quit because there is nothing else i can do here?

Working ten or more days straight sometimes. For 300 dollars a week at most. At a job that already causes me extreme anxiety and nearly has me on the floor screaming at least twice a day. In an area where everyone seems to have evolved from the shallow end of the gene pool. Where i know it really doesnt get that much better here. I dont know how much more i can take. I know i am worth more than this. And i dont know what to do to make things happen. What did i do to make any of this happen?

It might be time to do more productive things.