It is sweltering outside.
I suppose I'll start this post off with a recap from family day at the lake. Overall, it wasn't as bad as I expected. There was much drama going on within the family that deflected the attention away from me. So Little Cousin's mother (Boy's aunt) and father are now separated due to her sudden revelation earlier last year when she dropped Little Cousin's father (perfect dad if I've ever seen one) and shacked up with some woman. Now, I do not have a problem with this, being bisexual myself. However, her decision quickly bred turmoil in the family.
We'll call her Aunt#2. Well Aunt#2 decided to bring said woman to the lake under the pretense that her son, Little Cousin, had invited her. This may be true and it may not. I'm leaning towards the latter. From the moment we arrived at the lake, the drama began. Grandmother was not pleased. There were words exchanged including the word "disgusting." This is where I kinda got a little edgy. I understand completely if Grandmother was pissed that she brought this woman on her SON'S lake trip with his FATHER there. That is understandable. But to be enraged that she is with a WOMAN, not so much. I should point out that Grandmother is a very nasty person at times. She basically engraved disordered eating into all 3 of her daughters, including Boy's mother (who went to prison for awhile due to meth and human trafficking, but we'll get to that another day). Throughout the whole day, Aunt#2 was nowhere to be found. She trekked off with Woman, saying they were off to do a "photoshoot." That's when Little Cousin asked, "where's my mommy and that other woman?"
He invited her, but doesn't even know her name. Hmmm.
Besides the family drama, the day was okay. When we arrived they unloaded the food and I was relieved to see bags of sliced cucumber, carrot sticks, hummus, and watermelon. Then they brought out the tray of cupcakes. These were no ordinary cupcakes. These were Frosted Cupcakes from the shop downtown. Decorated to the tee, no doubt the most delicious cupcakes you ever had the opportunity to consume. I froze.
Uncle#1: "Cupcakes for breakfast, anyone?"
All: "Yeah! I'm starving!"
Me: *silence*
The tray was then passed around for everyone to choose from. When it came my way, I swear those motherfucking red velvet sins were glaring at me. Eat me.
Me: "I'm good for now. I don't like sweets in the morning. I'll save mine for after lunch."
All: *much protesting before finally giving up*
At lunch I ate 4 cucumber slices, 2 tsp of hummus, 3 tsp of spinach artichoke greek yogurt dip, 7 carrot sticks, and a few slices of watermelon. (And I didn't even eat the cupcake afterwards) Don't applaud ya girl just yet. I pigged out when I came home. I wish I could slap myself.
I got my belly button re-pierced the other day. Creepy old patron at my work gave me a $25 gift certificate for a piercing at a local tattoo shop. Said he didn't need it. Obviously, since you're 60-something, dude. He did mention that he would give it to me under one caviat, I let him see my new piercing once it was done.
The fuck?
Whatever, I wasn't about to turn down a perfectly free piercing that I've been meaning to get re-done for five years now. (I'm lazy)
I went to the tattoo shop stoned as one could be and made, what I presume to be, a complete fool of myself in front of both employees and 5 customers. When he gave me the contract that states I hereby swear that I am not under the influence of alcohol or illegal drugs I paused and actually questioned signing it.
*2 seconds later* I sign the paper and march right up to the guy. When the piercer struck me with the needle, I was preparing for the worst. I've heard from everyone, including the piercer, that piercing scar tissue hurts worse that regular skin. And if my memory serves right, the first time I got this done, it wasn't too pleasant.
That may be due to the fact that I got my lip pierced 4 seconds before getting my navel pierced the first time.
Anyway, when I got pierced, I felt no pain. It felt soooo good. This is how I know it has been way too long since I've cut. Especially due to recent events, I've been craving the razor for quite some time now. Sigh.
(By the way, I never showed old creepy dude my new metal)
What else has happened? Oh. Boy was socked by tweaker neighbor and insanity ensued. I think I'll save that story for my next post.
I'm quite stoned right now, I admit. I'm flawed, but aren't we all?
*edit*
I'm too lazy to go back and correct any mistakes from the post above. I just got some happy pills. Shhh. Boy and the crew came over and we did a few lines. I did not smoke this time in fear of being left alone with the whole kitchen. I'm hoping to get out of the house with the newly acquired Friend. Hopefully this way, the only calories I will be consuming will be from the alcohol.
New friend is okay. She's a good time. Not a dumbass, which is obviously a plus. I can actually hold a conversation with her. Also, she can hold her alcohol- another plus. I've had enough of dragging girls heads out of the toilet or out of some random guy's pants. It's nice not having to always be on drunkwhitegirl watch.
I just need to get out and do something. I've gained all this goddamn weight from sitting inside and smoking all day long. Munchies are a motherfucker. Mary Jane helps me turn off the constant thoughts reverberating through my brain, so I'm not about to give her up.
Since being back on blogger, I've regrettably noticed all of my favorite blogs are no longer active.
:(
I hope all you girls are okay. I'm glad to see some of you are still around. I'm not sure which is worse. I want to say maybe it's better most of the community has up and left. They could possibly be on the road to recovery, which is much more than I can say for myself. I feel like I'm moonwalking down the road that brought me this far, and delving back into every sick habit from the past. Sad part is, I wish I could moonwalk faster.
Satansvomit.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Friday, July 19, 2013
Drugs are bad, kids.
Two posts in two days? I'm on a roll.
Work today in 2 hours. I usually dread going to work and performing my proper slave duties, however, today the anxiety is (mostly) subsided. The reason being I have drugs to facillitate the process. Drugs are bad, kids.
I shall try to avoid food at work, as per usual. It's exceedingly more difficult when you working in fucking KITCHEN. My boss is constantly trying to feed me. Says I'm a twig. I try to hold back laughter when he makes comments like these, as he so often does. I'm a fucking whale. Every part of my body is growing exponentially. I've gained weight and apparently I'm not stopping anytime soon. I've been getting into a destructive routine lately. Wherein I successfully avoid food all day long, come home completely void of hunger, somehow decide it's wise to smoke a bowl to relax me and help me sleep, and end up eating the entire contents of my pantry.
:(
I need to snap the hell out of it.
Especially because tomorrow I will have no opportunity to starve myself. It's Boy's little cousin's birthday. He could be turning anywhere from 4 to 8, I don't really know. They all look the same to me. Kids, that is. Small and whiney. We will be going for a day-long trip to a lake to spend the day fishing and barbequing. Little cousin has taken a liking to me, as most young boys do. Yeah, yeah it's cute and all, but it poses quite a few problems:
"You're too thin. Eat something" To which I'm thinking: Fuck you. I just ate your goddamn burger.
"How's work?" To which I'm thinking: It makes me want to kill myself.
"How's school?" To which I'm thinking: It makes me want to kill myself in a calculated manner.
and my favorite:
"Sooooo, any kids in the future? *wink*" To which I'm thinking. I fucking hate kids. Read above.
Like Jesus H. Christ, I'm twenty fucking years old. Boy is 21. Why in the hell would kids even cross our mind? And honestly, they're better off. I'm doing a grand favor to them by not passing on my defective genetics to another generation. Let alone my deep seeded daddy/mommy issues. I need to stop before I start spiraling. Kid talk does that to me.
On the romantic front, (if you could even call it that) L is being distant as I've come accostomed to, and Boy is oblivious as ever. Not much to report, other than the overwhelming urge to take a knife to my chest, rip my heart out and thus avoid this nonesense altogether. I don't have a sharp enough knife, so I'll just push that urge to the side.
Sigh.
Welp, my head is tired. Time for my 8th cup of coffee. (And no, I'm not exaggerating) Possibly a few lines. Shhhh. Drugs are bad, kids.
Hopefully I don't eat myself into a stupor tonight, especially since I have to be in a bikini all day tomorrow. gag.
Satansvomit.
Work today in 2 hours. I usually dread going to work and performing my proper slave duties, however, today the anxiety is (mostly) subsided. The reason being I have drugs to facillitate the process. Drugs are bad, kids.
I shall try to avoid food at work, as per usual. It's exceedingly more difficult when you working in fucking KITCHEN. My boss is constantly trying to feed me. Says I'm a twig. I try to hold back laughter when he makes comments like these, as he so often does. I'm a fucking whale. Every part of my body is growing exponentially. I've gained weight and apparently I'm not stopping anytime soon. I've been getting into a destructive routine lately. Wherein I successfully avoid food all day long, come home completely void of hunger, somehow decide it's wise to smoke a bowl to relax me and help me sleep, and end up eating the entire contents of my pantry.
:(
I need to snap the hell out of it.
Especially because tomorrow I will have no opportunity to starve myself. It's Boy's little cousin's birthday. He could be turning anywhere from 4 to 8, I don't really know. They all look the same to me. Kids, that is. Small and whiney. We will be going for a day-long trip to a lake to spend the day fishing and barbequing. Little cousin has taken a liking to me, as most young boys do. Yeah, yeah it's cute and all, but it poses quite a few problems:
- I have to watch my mouth. I curse like a sailor, but I never realize how much I curse until I'm put in a situation where I can't.
- I can never get away for more than 2 seconds before he starts screaming for me. Which consequently means I can't get away for my hourly dose of nicotine. I wouldn't dare smoke in front of Little Cousin. Family knows I smoke and of course despises it. Normally I wouldn't give two fucks, but in situations like these, they have the perfect opportunity to use Little Cousin as a tiny human guilt trip. (Giving me side-eyes while I'm sneaking a drag and he's whining in the distance)
- I HATE KIDS. I don't care if this makes me a bad person. I love Boy's Little Cousin, and treat him like my own.. but after 2 hours I start scanning the room for his parents to get him away from me before my brain goes into overdrive. I just cannot handle that much stimuli, let alone try to be littlemissnicealmostauntie. I have little patience and an even shorter temper. I can only play caretaker for so long before I start throwing out sarcastic insults to Little Cousin, knowing he doesn't understand a word I'm saying. Okay, maybe I'm a bad person. Add it to the list.
"You're too thin. Eat something" To which I'm thinking: Fuck you. I just ate your goddamn burger.
"How's work?" To which I'm thinking: It makes me want to kill myself.
"How's school?" To which I'm thinking: It makes me want to kill myself in a calculated manner.
and my favorite:
"Sooooo, any kids in the future? *wink*" To which I'm thinking. I fucking hate kids. Read above.
Like Jesus H. Christ, I'm twenty fucking years old. Boy is 21. Why in the hell would kids even cross our mind? And honestly, they're better off. I'm doing a grand favor to them by not passing on my defective genetics to another generation. Let alone my deep seeded daddy/mommy issues. I need to stop before I start spiraling. Kid talk does that to me.
On the romantic front, (if you could even call it that) L is being distant as I've come accostomed to, and Boy is oblivious as ever. Not much to report, other than the overwhelming urge to take a knife to my chest, rip my heart out and thus avoid this nonesense altogether. I don't have a sharp enough knife, so I'll just push that urge to the side.
Sigh.
Welp, my head is tired. Time for my 8th cup of coffee. (And no, I'm not exaggerating) Possibly a few lines. Shhhh. Drugs are bad, kids.
Hopefully I don't eat myself into a stupor tonight, especially since I have to be in a bikini all day tomorrow. gag.
Satansvomit.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
I'm back? How many times have you heard that?
It's been over a year. My weight has fluctuated from 95 all the way up to God knows where at this point. I've not a clue. Too pussy to weigh myself. I know just how deeply I hate myself once the fear to step on the scale overcomes me for months at a time. Helpless. Defeated. Worthless.
I digress.
Instead of giving a lengthy overview of the past 17 months (because let's be honest, no one wants to sit through that), let me give a few key points of interest:
Calm yourself.
I should preface this by saying, since I moved from Az and in with Boy two years ago, I have been 100% faithful. I became a different person when I moved up here. Vastly different than the shred of a girl I was before. During Boy's and I long-distance portion of our relationship (1 1/2 years) I was still the same girl he left in Az. Boy and I started "dating" when he had officially moved away from Az. We had a maximum of 4 days total together, introduction included, before he left. I'm not sure if it was a desperate attempt to keep some semblence of a human relationship, or sheer insanity on my part, when I agreed to enter into relationship with Boy, never knowing if we would ever see each other again. I'm betting on the latter. Regardless, I agreed and hence Boy's and I faulty relationship began.
He moved away. And I was still stuck in the hell that was my current life. Constant partying, 24/7 drug abuse, (which makes for some interesting stories, but I'll save those for later) a very high level of promiscuity-most likely due to previous sexual abuse- and in a idontgiveafuckgivemeanotherline type of mindset. Twas bittersweet. Nevertheless, I was still where I was and Boy was no longer. Of course, like with everyone else, I put on a happy face and fed him just the right lines to have him believe that I was littlemisshappyfaithfulgirlfriend. HA.
In an attempt to not drag the history out for another 8 paragraphs, I'll just summarize that I ran in the same circle as Boy, even before I met him. (Boy lived elsewhere this entire time and I just met him when he came to visit for a month before taking off again). Confused yet? Hang in there, it'll make sense eventually. Now, just incase you aren't convinced i'm a slut yet, let me add the fact that I slept with not one, not two, but 3 of Boy's close friends. STFU I didn't know him yet! I knew I was a hot commodity in this group of friends, and I relished that fact and milked it to the fullest (drugs, rides, and quickies). Trust me, I hated myself as much as you probably hate me right now. I digress.
L was not one of these friends. In fact, L and I didn't even talk to each other. Sure, we were around each other every fucking day, but L was never on my radar. Why? L was the type of guy that I would have never even considered would give me a second look. He was so far out of my league, that I didn't even try, in attempt to save myself from the inevitable rejection and humiliation that would closely follow. In all the 2 years I knew L, prior to Boy's appearance in my life, I never saw L with another girl. I figured he just kept his personal life under wraps, or given my luck, he was gay.
If I had a specific type of man I preferred, L would be it. Perfection from head to toe. Perfect hair. Perfect skin. The cutest nose I think I've seen on any human being, and eyes you could get lost in for hours. Did I mention he moved to America from the UK? I am such the anglophile. Despite all this, he is the most intelligent man I have ever had the good grace to be associated with. He has the same dark humour as me, and often communicates via quotes from movies and tv shows. OH MY GOD he is perfect. I try and rack my brain to find even the smallest imperfection in L, and I always come up empty-handed. So yeah, needless to say, I never would have thought he would give me a second look.
Remember how I mentioned my luck earlier? Here is a prime example of how it operates: Boy leaves. A week later, I get L's number. Nothing scandalous, I just needed some drugs, and my Guy was otherwise incapacitated. Soon, our routine drug exchanges turned into something more. Next thing I know, I'm meeting L in a park nearby and engaging in a twisted form of adultery. This continued on for a year at least. He would visit me after work and we would do unmentionables in the laundry room of the apt. complex down the street from my work. (I see you giving me the side-eye again) Throughout, I was also sporadically hooking up with no-names on the side. Given the platonic nature of the "relationship" between L and I, I saw no problem with this. He wanted sex, and my weak-willed self could never turn down his perfection, thus I gave it to him. L had never given any indication that our engagements were anything other than purely superficial, which is why I was taken aback when he professed his love for me. I handled it like the cold-hearted bitch that I was; I went about my merrily way, scattering his feelings on the ground before stepping on them. Our pseudo-romance ended abruptly and without closure. (I never felt the slightest bit of guilt for L or any of the no-names, funnily enough. I think the area of the conscience that facillitates guilt was clouded by mass quantities of MDMA) Boy never found out.
Fastforward 2 years later, I hear L is coming to visit. Heart stops. Blood curdles. Stomach spins. There is no way in hell he's coming. He hates me. Lo and behold, come May, I hear L is officially on his way to our house. My nervous system shuts down, my brain ceases to function, and all I can think about is L. My plan was to politely avoid him. Plan went to hell. The moment I saw his face, it was over. I was his. Every feeling I had previously suppressed with my impressive drug collection had surfaced. Fuck. We avoided each other successfully for the first few days. The sexual tension was unbearable. We slowly gravitated towards each other and had the most amazing, thought-provoking conversations I've ever had with anyone. One day, while Boy was at work, I skipped school and stayed with L. The moment he kissed me, it all flooded back. It felt so right, so natural. Double fuck. And we did it.
He left. Not without exchanging numbers, and we've texted everyday since. He says he loves me. I say I love him. I feel like I'm right back where I was 2 years ago, progress shot to hell. He says he'll come back for me. However, when that day comes, I know I'll have a choice to make. I just don't know what I will choose.
Lengthy post, I know. I owe it to you after disappearing for so long. In other news, I'm fat and plan to starve myself the rest of the day. Oh, and incase you haven't figured it out yet- I'm also a slut.
Satansvomit.
I digress.
Instead of giving a lengthy overview of the past 17 months (because let's be honest, no one wants to sit through that), let me give a few key points of interest:
- Quit old job with Boy. I was within an inch of stabbing someone, and the last thing I need on my record is attempted murder. Incidently, Boy quit. I am now working at a private club as a slave, Boy is head cook at a rehabilitation center.
- I enrolled in school, completed my HS credits, and am now in my second year on the Pre-Pharmacy track in college. An entirely new realm of head fuckery, but that's for another post.
- Visited Arizona this past Summer and ended up sending my mother on a bus for Tx, fighting with my incompetent father, and staying with Boy's mother for the remainder of the trip. As much hell as I went through last Summer, the highlight? 95 lbs. Yes, I know I'm fucked in the head. That's been established.
- Boy's mother, sister, and best friend came to visit this past May. Did I mention Boy's best friend (we'll call him L) and I were hooking up while Boy and I were long distance? Don't judge me. Well, it'd been 2 years since I saw L, and much to my dismay, while he was here for a week.. let's just say old habits die hard.
- I'm back on drugs. And fat. Again.
Calm yourself.
I should preface this by saying, since I moved from Az and in with Boy two years ago, I have been 100% faithful. I became a different person when I moved up here. Vastly different than the shred of a girl I was before. During Boy's and I long-distance portion of our relationship (1 1/2 years) I was still the same girl he left in Az. Boy and I started "dating" when he had officially moved away from Az. We had a maximum of 4 days total together, introduction included, before he left. I'm not sure if it was a desperate attempt to keep some semblence of a human relationship, or sheer insanity on my part, when I agreed to enter into relationship with Boy, never knowing if we would ever see each other again. I'm betting on the latter. Regardless, I agreed and hence Boy's and I faulty relationship began.
He moved away. And I was still stuck in the hell that was my current life. Constant partying, 24/7 drug abuse, (which makes for some interesting stories, but I'll save those for later) a very high level of promiscuity-most likely due to previous sexual abuse- and in a idontgiveafuckgivemeanotherline type of mindset. Twas bittersweet. Nevertheless, I was still where I was and Boy was no longer. Of course, like with everyone else, I put on a happy face and fed him just the right lines to have him believe that I was littlemisshappyfaithfulgirlfriend. HA.
In an attempt to not drag the history out for another 8 paragraphs, I'll just summarize that I ran in the same circle as Boy, even before I met him. (Boy lived elsewhere this entire time and I just met him when he came to visit for a month before taking off again). Confused yet? Hang in there, it'll make sense eventually. Now, just incase you aren't convinced i'm a slut yet, let me add the fact that I slept with not one, not two, but 3 of Boy's close friends. STFU I didn't know him yet! I knew I was a hot commodity in this group of friends, and I relished that fact and milked it to the fullest (drugs, rides, and quickies). Trust me, I hated myself as much as you probably hate me right now. I digress.
L was not one of these friends. In fact, L and I didn't even talk to each other. Sure, we were around each other every fucking day, but L was never on my radar. Why? L was the type of guy that I would have never even considered would give me a second look. He was so far out of my league, that I didn't even try, in attempt to save myself from the inevitable rejection and humiliation that would closely follow. In all the 2 years I knew L, prior to Boy's appearance in my life, I never saw L with another girl. I figured he just kept his personal life under wraps, or given my luck, he was gay.
If I had a specific type of man I preferred, L would be it. Perfection from head to toe. Perfect hair. Perfect skin. The cutest nose I think I've seen on any human being, and eyes you could get lost in for hours. Did I mention he moved to America from the UK? I am such the anglophile. Despite all this, he is the most intelligent man I have ever had the good grace to be associated with. He has the same dark humour as me, and often communicates via quotes from movies and tv shows. OH MY GOD he is perfect. I try and rack my brain to find even the smallest imperfection in L, and I always come up empty-handed. So yeah, needless to say, I never would have thought he would give me a second look.
Remember how I mentioned my luck earlier? Here is a prime example of how it operates: Boy leaves. A week later, I get L's number. Nothing scandalous, I just needed some drugs, and my Guy was otherwise incapacitated. Soon, our routine drug exchanges turned into something more. Next thing I know, I'm meeting L in a park nearby and engaging in a twisted form of adultery. This continued on for a year at least. He would visit me after work and we would do unmentionables in the laundry room of the apt. complex down the street from my work. (I see you giving me the side-eye again) Throughout, I was also sporadically hooking up with no-names on the side. Given the platonic nature of the "relationship" between L and I, I saw no problem with this. He wanted sex, and my weak-willed self could never turn down his perfection, thus I gave it to him. L had never given any indication that our engagements were anything other than purely superficial, which is why I was taken aback when he professed his love for me. I handled it like the cold-hearted bitch that I was; I went about my merrily way, scattering his feelings on the ground before stepping on them. Our pseudo-romance ended abruptly and without closure. (I never felt the slightest bit of guilt for L or any of the no-names, funnily enough. I think the area of the conscience that facillitates guilt was clouded by mass quantities of MDMA) Boy never found out.
Fastforward 2 years later, I hear L is coming to visit. Heart stops. Blood curdles. Stomach spins. There is no way in hell he's coming. He hates me. Lo and behold, come May, I hear L is officially on his way to our house. My nervous system shuts down, my brain ceases to function, and all I can think about is L. My plan was to politely avoid him. Plan went to hell. The moment I saw his face, it was over. I was his. Every feeling I had previously suppressed with my impressive drug collection had surfaced. Fuck. We avoided each other successfully for the first few days. The sexual tension was unbearable. We slowly gravitated towards each other and had the most amazing, thought-provoking conversations I've ever had with anyone. One day, while Boy was at work, I skipped school and stayed with L. The moment he kissed me, it all flooded back. It felt so right, so natural. Double fuck. And we did it.
He left. Not without exchanging numbers, and we've texted everyday since. He says he loves me. I say I love him. I feel like I'm right back where I was 2 years ago, progress shot to hell. He says he'll come back for me. However, when that day comes, I know I'll have a choice to make. I just don't know what I will choose.
Lengthy post, I know. I owe it to you after disappearing for so long. In other news, I'm fat and plan to starve myself the rest of the day. Oh, and incase you haven't figured it out yet- I'm also a slut.
Satansvomit.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)