I am a Loony in a Loony Bin

I have so much to fucking write about, it's sick.

I did want to post a teeny update with some things for the booky book.

First of all, I already have four chapters planned.

"Chapter One" the first month, ish, is going to be called "Fuck my Life, Eddie" for many reasons.

"Chapter Two" is going to be called "When Mitt Romney Became John Cleese" and is curiously not about that at all, but it is about reinvention, in a way.

One chapter is currently out of my head and I can't put a finger on what I was going to call it.

And then one about friendship and redeeming qualities is going to be about my search for a very old, very distant friend and how I have changed and how friends have truly shaped me to be who I am, if nothing else.

Anyway, that's that for today, because there are four miles waiting for me to walk them and a high speed and an incline.

PS, I am at 207 pounds.

The Loony Bin is My Life

I Lick the Gun when I'm Done

I'm in Dallas.  With my sister.  What a shocker...seriously.

I very much need to make an update and write many things down. I think that I will do that, but after this trip. Trouble is, I felt that I needed this trip quite a lot, but it has now drained my pocketbook.  So, I am going to spend next week at home saving on gas.

I think it will be another good thing, though, because I can get things in order.

I did take some steps I can mention without a whole long, literate post.

I got myself health insurance.  It is for part-time employees, so it may not be the most comprehensive, but it is fucking better than nothing. AND, it included part-time dental/vision.  Thing is, I can't find any literature on what that entails. Probably one visit a year, which is fine. A dental check-up for them to tell me I have shit for teeth and a vision check-up for them to tell me my eyes have gotten a bit worse--gasp--here's a new scrip for contacts--yay!  And then a trip to the doctor who will give me a new inhaler, just in case, a new scrip for my favorite allergy medication, and possibly something for my acne.  Because I am nearly twenty-two and I still have acne.

I got a bank account.  It's there.  It's soon to be empty thanks to Dallas and having to pay for an extra tank of gas to get back and froth from Stillwater.  But, I have one, and I am not going to regret getting it either.

I filed my taxes, but I didn't.  Because I need my annual income whatever from last year, and I lost the flash drive all that info was on. So, I have to wait until I can pay twenty bucks to see last years W-2 from Old Navy--which I have to get to file last years state taxes--and I can add it up and e-file. That will be next Friday. Stupid.

Otherwise, I am in Dallas, and I am not going to regret it. Went to see dead people yesterday--the best part, sickeningly, were the fetuses.  Fetal bone growth displays, where they highlighted the bones of the little babies and made their skin transparent so we could see said highlighted bone, was the absolute coolest. If you get a chance, go see Bodies, whenever it is in your city/the city you are in.  It is very cool, and informative, and mostly very cool.  Made me want to get back into school, too, so that I might one day get to touch the bones instead of just go see them in an exhibit.

Today, the aquarium, which better not be expensive, and then something else she no doubt will want to do that will cost money that I won't have.

Ah well, it's nice to be in a city and to not have to worry about work or anything but walking around and enjoying the absolutely lovely weather.

The transit system here, P.S., is way fucking cool.  I am such a rapid transit nerd.

Also, thanks to Chetara, for putting the song the title and following lines are from into my brain.

'Cause I Know the Revenge is Sweet

Week of Ups and Downs

My best friend lost her V-card, my sister asked me to go on a fun trip to Dallas, I made an appointment with a psychologist, and I just had a fantastic work-out at the gym without a single sign of asthma.  I clearly have a lot to talk about, and a big post is coming up; but, right this second, I need a shower like a dirty dog and maybe a sandwich just as badly.

So, keep eyes and...well, eyes peeled for an update coming to a blogger near you. 

Definitive, to Say the Least

And the World Spins Madly On

I am about to call all of the companies to whom I owe money.  The last people I ever want to talk to are bill collectors, but I have to change my address and get my statements so that I can start the process of paying them off.  My biggest, most paralyzing fear in this world is my debt, and how terrified I am that I have fucked it up forever, fucked myself over beyond repair.  I'm twenty-one years old, and that is honestly my fear.

I have to keep telling  myself that they can't hurt me.  They really can't do anything to me, not for debt.  I don't even owe that much.  It's the fear of failure, of disappointment, of people looking at me like I am incapable and a loser.  And it is the fear that I will never, under any circumstances, truly overcome.  But, they can't hurt me, not more than I have already hurt myself.

So, I am going to get myself together and stop irrationally crying over this.  I am going to soothe myself, so that my heart will stop palpitating like it does every time I think of money.  I am going to chill out, stop shaking, and speak confidently.  They can't hurt me, not more than I've already hurt myself.  It isn't hurting me to trying and help myself.

There is something wrong with me, on the inside.  There must be something wrong.  How can I take a situation about someone else and make it about me? But, my feelings have been hurt, and absolutely no one has regard for the hurt I feel when we're busy focusing on someone else.  It isn't about me, so I don't get to be comforted, and I just have to believe that when I am finally allowed to be, these people will be there for me.  By all accounts, by all my memory, they won't be.  I have the hardest time believing that anyone will.  Part of me doesn't want to believe.  I want to kill that part of me.  That part that believes something will always go wrong.  That part that always tells me, in a whisper at the back of my heart, that everything will fall through.  And everything does, because I listen to it instead of to everything else that tells me it won't.  Everything else, that tells me to believe, to have faith, and things will come through.  I think I am being realistic by believing that tiny voice, but really, I am killing myself one pessimistic thought at a time.

I can't help everyone else when they are falling apart, because I already am.  I can't be there the way I should, so I feel bad, I feel hurt.  I feel pain and I believe they will walk away, they will forget I exist.  I listen to the little voice making me sad, and my friends follow through; they forget me, that don't care, because I can't see anything but the little voice.  I see what it says, not what they do.

I don't want to give up, not on myself and not on my plans, but if I believe everyone else already has--never did anything but--than that's all I will see and that's all that will happen.  I have spent my life giving up before I start.  I have spent my whole life listening to that little voice.  Where did it come from?  What is it's name?  Why has it been here all of this time?  What happened to me?  What have I done?  How did this happen?  What did this to me?

The problem is: we're focusing on someone else who is falling apart, for good reason.  But, I am left with this question myself.  I don't know how to understand it, and everyone in my life is too busy falling apart themselves to help me as I crumble after years of listing to this voice.  And, it isn't just today, it isn't just right now.  Everyone is always falling apart around me.  My mother, my friends, anyone I should be able to hold on to.  All of them and more have at one time abandoned me.  I have never been allowed to "fall apart."  I have never been allowed to focus on me.  No one else has focused on me.  I don't know what to do.  How to deal.  I don't think I can fix myself on my own, but no one is in my life who isn't falling to pieces and my health keeps falling through the cracks.  I have to ask, what about me, but no body wants to answer; I am made to feel selfish.  Everyone is too busy asking that about themselves.  I am told to accept that, because that is all being human is in this world, there isn't one person who is not thinking of only themselves.  I just need one person on my side.  I need one person to remember me.  To not fall apart on me while I am trying to put myself together again.

And for that, I am selfish, like everyone before me, and everyone after.  But I'm the only one feeling like a piece of shit for wondering what's wrong with me while everyone around me is worried about themselves.

I don't know what to do anymore.

I want to help us both, but I don't know that I can.

I'll Move Out of the Way for You

Okay, so here's the deal: I don't like to be tossed about.

And, yet, it happens at least once a week, if not much more often.

I don't like to be led on, I don't like to be lied to, and I don't like to be treated like a second rate individual when I am the one pulling your ass out of every bad situation you get yourself into.  I don't like to be toyed with, but I find I am everyone's favorite play-thing.

I am always there when people need me, and when they don't, I get left behind.

I have done my fair share of bitching about this in the past, people using and abusing me, and I continue to stay on stand-by, I continue to listen, to offer a shoulder, to help out in every way I can.  And I continue to get dumped on.

The problem is, I don't want to be unreliable, or labeled as such.  I don't want to be seen as a cold-hearted bitch or uncaring or unkind.  I want people to rely on me, but I often find people I cannot rely on.

Take my best friends in high school, one of which would go on to abandon me for my brother.  I was always there to soothe the ache for them, but when I needed someone, or when I planned something to make them better, they left me hanging.  One great example is my stupid-ass ex-friend Michelle, the one who thought she was going to marry my brother.  They broke-up one weekend--for the hundredth time, I'm sure--and I, still under her manipulation and thinking my brother was an ass, offered to drive to her city ninety miles away to spend the night and make it better if just for a few days.  Already on my way, I gave her a call to see how she was, and she cancelled.  I sat on the side of the road, trying to talk her out of cancelling, out of staying home alone, but she was already convinced I didn't need to come.  And there I was, prepared to drive an hour and looking forward to seeing someone I hadn't in a while, on the side of the road being told to turn around.  I was furious, but more than that, I was disappointed in myself for believing it was actually going to happen.  That I was actually going to drive the hour, meet her for dinner, hang out bad-mouthing boys, and spend the night on her spare bed.  I thought my problem was that I was an idiot; I am starting to think I am too desperate for something I can't quite put my finger on.

When I had a tarot card reading, one of the cards was to tell me how people saw me.  It said they saw me as unreliable; if I were to make travel plans with them, they would cancel.  I have to agree; but, I have to question as well, because it seems inconsistent.  I have spent the better part of the past few years trying to be anything but unreliable.  I have tried to be there for every bad thing, and have been scolded by it.  And I continue to be there, to go out of my way, even when I know I will eventually be overlooked, because I don't want to seem that way: unreliable.  Maybe my sister or my father put it in my head that I was, or maybe I have just always thought it myself, but it is the last thing I have ever wanted to be.  I don't want to be stupid, I don't want to be cruel, I don't want to be ugly, and I want to be reliable.  I want to be the person you can count on.  I want someone to count on me.

So I push hard to maintain that title, and usually what comes of it is this: your boyfriend becomes more important than me.  He does something truly shitty, and I come around to help out, and once he's back, even without offering apology or sincere regret, you run back to him and continue with your little charade that he loves you and everything will be alright.  I think if I honestly thought the boyfriends they run back to did love them, I wouldn't mind, but usually I am clever enough to realize they don't.  Ironically, of course, you will break up with him, and who will be there to hold you when you cry?  Me.  Because I am a sucker for the needy, and really all I need is to be needed.

And then, when we make plans, when we decide to travel and to road-trip and to do things that people our age are supposed to do, my friends cop-out at the last minute, and leave me hanging high and dry.  I wonder why I haven't ever done anything, it's because everyone bails on me, and I can't foot the bill myself.  And I am afraid to go by myself, but maybe I shouldn't be...maybe I should just keep on going.  Get in the car and drive wherever we were going myself, and then maybe I won't be unreliable.

I don't really know what the problem is.  I think it is that I am a pushover and allow myself to be walked on because I have severe abandonment issues.  I need to learn how to say no, and I need to learn how to not care if I have to.

I don't think I should stop being there for people.  I don't think I should just go away and not help when I am needed.  But, I am dead-tired of being walked on.  Of having plans changed because you let yourself sleep-on it and be swayed.  Some jack-ass treats you like shit, and I allow you to turn around and treat me that way, because you love him, even though he won't ever love you.  I will love you, and you won't ever love me. Not the way I need it.

My mother says I have to draw they right people to me.  I have to be the person I want to get to know, and I have to draw that time of person to me.  I have to learn to weed out the bad, to see them for what they are.  The problem is, that I fall in love too easily, and they aren't necessarily bad friends...when they want to be.

Whatever happened to chicks before dicks?

Whatever happened to loyalty?

Whatever happened to keeping plans with friends, because friends are the families we pick, not the one's we've been stuck with?

Whatever happened to being decent people?

I guess I don't have room to talk.  I guess I can't really be considered a "decent" person.  I guess that is my ultimate downfall.

You draw to you what you project.  I am needy and self-loathing.  Just look at my friends.

I'll Move Out of the Way for Her, Too