So. This is how life goes, isn't it? I wish it didn't have to be anything like this, but I guess life is all about kicking people in the balls. Repeatedly. Then letting them almost stagger back up to their knees, backhands them so hard they fall back down, and then curb-stomps them. Or maybe it's just me.
Whatever.
Case in point:
-Every time I think about or am reminded of Fire, I get nauseated and woozy and feel like I'm going to fall over. Read: Every. Single. Time. There's no reprieve from these feelings. Ever.
-Reading all my old posts from when I was working at Fire made me all nostalgic and happy inside, and then when I realize that I'll never have them again, I go through the same pain that's mentioned in the previous point. It feels like my heart is trying to claw its way up my throat and out of my body so it never has to feel that pain again. Because not feeling at all is apparently better than living with me. Nice. And all at the same time that I'm overwhelmed with the feeling that I can only associate with drowning, and can't breathe for a couple minutes, at least. (I don't know if it's drowning for sure, 'cause I've never drowned or almost drowned or anything of that sort. I avoid water for a reason.)
-Aaron lost his baby and then his Fiancee in the same week. Yup, the same Aaron from Fire. It makes me want to do something nice for him, but I haven't the slightest notion of where to even begin. That's two of my friends who've lost babies this year. Two! This year alone. I'm only 20!! It makes me weep for human-kind.
-I never want to see the back-stabbing bastard formerly known as my boss Devin again. Ever. Take that, asshole.
-If I last past Christmas at my current job (either of them), I'll be surprised. I hate them both with the burning passion of a thousand suns. And even that's an understatement sometimes.
-I just spent $98-something on a bus ticket to RD (because my mom wanted me to), only to realize half-way home that I can't afford rent this month. And it's due tomorrow. Yay me. Yay money. Yay life.
I don't know if the pain from Fire will ever go away, and I'm not even sure if anyone knows how bad it's really been since April, because, due to a lack of people to turn to, I've turned back to bottling. I know it's unhealthy, and I know it'll just explode right back in my face eventually, but here's my deal: I don't really care at this point in time. I might never care to let myself get over all this. The fact that they still owe me over $400 from my last paycheque that bounced (and was the only one in the restaurant that did, to boot), Devin royally sucks at life and never deserved my loyalty at all, and I never want to step foot on the properties of Average Joe's (West or South) or Suede ever again, fuel my anger against humanity, and my anger's the only thing getting me through this hellish limbo.
Everyday I fight a war against the mirror
I can't take the person staring back at me
I'm a hazard to myself
Don't let me get me
I'm my own worst enemy
It's bad when you annoy yourself
So irritating
Don't wanna be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else
The only thing I've ever wanted in life was to love and be loved and protected from all life's evils and hurts. To know that I'm actually worth something to someone other than my friends. Don't get me wrong though, all my friends have been/are and always will be fantastic, loyal and dependable. I actually had one of them phone me at one in the morning a couple nights ago, in tears because she didn't feel like anyone would listen to her. Is it a surprise that she's at camp, and that's most of the reason for her feelings? Not in the least. Hence why she called me. She knew I wouldn't care being woken up at that hour (and to be honest, I wasn't even asleep yet). She knew I would listen for however long it took for her to calm down enough to sleep, despite the astronomical phone bill that would result. She knew I'd be there, even though we haven't seen each other and really talked since probably before summer. We've been friends for almost two decades now; that's longer than some of my other friends have been alive. And we still talk. The seven of us will always have those times, even if we try to deny it, or run from it, or say we've grown out of it. They'll always be there. Just like her pain. Just like mine. Just like all of theirs.
But is that really too much to ask from life, though? Really. Honestly. Tell me if I'm losing my mind, 'cause I know now that I was when I was working for you-know-who earlier this year. All I want to be is loved and protected by a man. I don't care if I graduate from either of my degrees, I don't care if I make anything of myself, I don't care if I never make it out of Lethbridge, I don't care if I deserve it or not, I just don't want to die alone, never having been loved like I want/wish to be. Everyone thinks that deep water (well heights and depths) is my greatest fear. I'd really like to keep it that way for the record, but truth-be-known, those things pale in comparison than the thought of never being loved. I wish I could brush this away, and continue living my nothing-really-gets-under-my-skin lifestyle, but anyone reading this should know that I just can't. While not much really does get to me (despite how I react), I'm really passionate about certain things in life, and as much as I'd like to believe they don't, almost anything about those few things get under my skin, and fast.
First is my friends; mess with them, and you'll regret it.
Second is my abilities. Cooking, singing, dancing, writing, anything I've been told/I think I'm good at/simply love doing. Even the slightest poke at any of these abilities and I'll never forget it; it'll hang over my head like a black cloud until I die. I'm not good at much, but I pride myself on doing some things really quite well, and simply for the compliments. Vain, I know, but it keeps me from doubting myself back into the thoughts of years past.
Third is my ability to find someone who loves me/a boyfriend. I know I've been losing in pretty much every aspect of this one, but I haven't lost my ability to dream of what could be, and that's sometimes the only thing I have to lean on. Just, please don't push this button. I won't outwardly react, but believe me when I say that it'll hurt more than anything if you actually intend to push this button.
They vary from first, second and third, depending on what's going on, but they never leave the forefront of my thoughts.
I honestly wish I could still cry over some things, but at the same time, I'm kind of glad that I can't anymore. Some things don't deserve my tears, and never did in the first place, I just thought they did. And as much as I'd love to keep writing 'til the sun comes up, I have to be awake, alert and alive by at least 8am, which is less than 7 hours from now, so I must turn in, and try to sleep on the ever-uncomfortable couch that resides in my mom's living room. Peace all.
Whatever.
Case in point:
-Every time I think about or am reminded of Fire, I get nauseated and woozy and feel like I'm going to fall over. Read: Every. Single. Time. There's no reprieve from these feelings. Ever.
-Reading all my old posts from when I was working at Fire made me all nostalgic and happy inside, and then when I realize that I'll never have them again, I go through the same pain that's mentioned in the previous point. It feels like my heart is trying to claw its way up my throat and out of my body so it never has to feel that pain again. Because not feeling at all is apparently better than living with me. Nice. And all at the same time that I'm overwhelmed with the feeling that I can only associate with drowning, and can't breathe for a couple minutes, at least. (I don't know if it's drowning for sure, 'cause I've never drowned or almost drowned or anything of that sort. I avoid water for a reason.)
-Aaron lost his baby and then his Fiancee in the same week. Yup, the same Aaron from Fire. It makes me want to do something nice for him, but I haven't the slightest notion of where to even begin. That's two of my friends who've lost babies this year. Two! This year alone. I'm only 20!! It makes me weep for human-kind.
-I never want to see the back-stabbing bastard formerly known as my boss Devin again. Ever. Take that, asshole.
-If I last past Christmas at my current job (either of them), I'll be surprised. I hate them both with the burning passion of a thousand suns. And even that's an understatement sometimes.
-I just spent $98-something on a bus ticket to RD (because my mom wanted me to), only to realize half-way home that I can't afford rent this month. And it's due tomorrow. Yay me. Yay money. Yay life.
I don't know if the pain from Fire will ever go away, and I'm not even sure if anyone knows how bad it's really been since April, because, due to a lack of people to turn to, I've turned back to bottling. I know it's unhealthy, and I know it'll just explode right back in my face eventually, but here's my deal: I don't really care at this point in time. I might never care to let myself get over all this. The fact that they still owe me over $400 from my last paycheque that bounced (and was the only one in the restaurant that did, to boot), Devin royally sucks at life and never deserved my loyalty at all, and I never want to step foot on the properties of Average Joe's (West or South) or Suede ever again, fuel my anger against humanity, and my anger's the only thing getting me through this hellish limbo.
Everyday I fight a war against the mirror
I can't take the person staring back at me
I'm a hazard to myself
Don't let me get me
I'm my own worst enemy
It's bad when you annoy yourself
So irritating
Don't wanna be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else
The only thing I've ever wanted in life was to love and be loved and protected from all life's evils and hurts. To know that I'm actually worth something to someone other than my friends. Don't get me wrong though, all my friends have been/are and always will be fantastic, loyal and dependable. I actually had one of them phone me at one in the morning a couple nights ago, in tears because she didn't feel like anyone would listen to her. Is it a surprise that she's at camp, and that's most of the reason for her feelings? Not in the least. Hence why she called me. She knew I wouldn't care being woken up at that hour (and to be honest, I wasn't even asleep yet). She knew I would listen for however long it took for her to calm down enough to sleep, despite the astronomical phone bill that would result. She knew I'd be there, even though we haven't seen each other and really talked since probably before summer. We've been friends for almost two decades now; that's longer than some of my other friends have been alive. And we still talk. The seven of us will always have those times, even if we try to deny it, or run from it, or say we've grown out of it. They'll always be there. Just like her pain. Just like mine. Just like all of theirs.
But is that really too much to ask from life, though? Really. Honestly. Tell me if I'm losing my mind, 'cause I know now that I was when I was working for you-know-who earlier this year. All I want to be is loved and protected by a man. I don't care if I graduate from either of my degrees, I don't care if I make anything of myself, I don't care if I never make it out of Lethbridge, I don't care if I deserve it or not, I just don't want to die alone, never having been loved like I want/wish to be. Everyone thinks that deep water (well heights and depths) is my greatest fear. I'd really like to keep it that way for the record, but truth-be-known, those things pale in comparison than the thought of never being loved. I wish I could brush this away, and continue living my nothing-really-gets-under-my-skin lifestyle, but anyone reading this should know that I just can't. While not much really does get to me (despite how I react), I'm really passionate about certain things in life, and as much as I'd like to believe they don't, almost anything about those few things get under my skin, and fast.
First is my friends; mess with them, and you'll regret it.
Second is my abilities. Cooking, singing, dancing, writing, anything I've been told/I think I'm good at/simply love doing. Even the slightest poke at any of these abilities and I'll never forget it; it'll hang over my head like a black cloud until I die. I'm not good at much, but I pride myself on doing some things really quite well, and simply for the compliments. Vain, I know, but it keeps me from doubting myself back into the thoughts of years past.
Third is my ability to find someone who loves me/a boyfriend. I know I've been losing in pretty much every aspect of this one, but I haven't lost my ability to dream of what could be, and that's sometimes the only thing I have to lean on. Just, please don't push this button. I won't outwardly react, but believe me when I say that it'll hurt more than anything if you actually intend to push this button.
They vary from first, second and third, depending on what's going on, but they never leave the forefront of my thoughts.
I honestly wish I could still cry over some things, but at the same time, I'm kind of glad that I can't anymore. Some things don't deserve my tears, and never did in the first place, I just thought they did. And as much as I'd love to keep writing 'til the sun comes up, I have to be awake, alert and alive by at least 8am, which is less than 7 hours from now, so I must turn in, and try to sleep on the ever-uncomfortable couch that resides in my mom's living room. Peace all.
