Freakcity

AdamAlarming, blonde, comical, dizzy, evil, feculating, gratuitous, handsome, intellectual, jolly, kitten-ish, lovely, morish, nonse, opulant, precious, queen, ravisher, shopper, tall, undeniable, verocious, wanker, xenophobe, yellowed, zany; is how the alphabet would describe me

Bingowings’s blog

Blergh-syndrome

Tuesday September 7th, 2004 at 17:21pm

I woke up today to my phone ringing. It was about an interview I had, saying I didn’t get the job. I was pissed off at first...I kinda still am, but I’m disappointed at not having a job, not at not getting this specific job. I don’t know why, but it just seemed I didn’t fit there, something there was wrong. And I know that there are a plethera of other jobs out there for me to get, and I will. I’ve already applied for 10 jobs today, and I’ve done some housework, andso to that end I feel good, but I often wonder what’s the point? What’s the point of trying to do all of this, if all I get back is negative? This is what makes me feel blergh..... knowing I want a job, but not knowing why I need one except for the obvious reasons of money.... what is the point of working just to survive? Why put so much effort in when I don’t even get anything back? Maybe I’m at a cross-roads, because so far my life hasn’t really gone anywhere, sure I’ve been places, seen some things, made some fantastic friends, but life isn’t just about those things, life encompasses them, and more, but I don’t have the “more”. I don’t know what “more” really is. So now I have a decision to make, about what to do next, I don’t know this because I don’t know where I can go from here, and I need to find that out first... but it seems one of the hardest questions I’ve asked myself lately, hard because I don’t seem to be finding any answers, or even getting close to them. I don’t know, maybe I just wish sometimes things were a little less difficult, that everytime I get over one hurdle, another would’nt spring up in its place. With yesterday and today, 2 hurdles sprung up, after I only got past one, and I’m tired of jumping. I’m tired of jumping hoops for some friends who think they’re helping when all they’re really doing is trying to control me. I’m tired of doing things for people around me, and not doing them for me, I’m tired of going through the motions. I know this seems selfish, but I’ve done a lot of things for different people, all because they wanted me to, now I want something from me, and I can’t get it. I know this probably doesn’t make much sense, because I seem to have been lacking mental clarity for the past couple of days. I know in my head what I want, but describing it is hard, and getting there even harder. But I will get there, because I want to, because I need to, and because there has to be more than this.

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Shitty

Sunday September 5th, 2004 at 14:14pm

This week has all been about escapism, not in a Houdini sense, but a mental sense. I needed to escape, so I could feel good, but I don’t. My life seems to be going well, I have job prospects, I have amazing friends, and I have an absolutely gorgeous man, but still I feel so alone right now. There are some people that I miss terribly, and I would do anything just to see them once more. I want my Dad to see how far I’ve come, and how well things are going, and just to have a hug from him would be more than I could ever ask for. I will never see him again because I wasn’t there for him when he needed me, and now he’s dead. I killed him, because when he was feeling down, I wasn’t with him to talk, to help, and the next day he was dead...I killed my Dad. I was the one who had to tell my sisters what had happened to their Dad, I know it wasn’t my fault what he did, but still it feels that I was the one who took him away from them, because I told them, and because I wasn’t there for him when he needed me, like he’d always been there for me. And now one of my sisters isn’t talking to me, and hasn’t since November, and all I want from her is to sit down, and hold her hand, and tell her I’m sorry for taking him away, I’m sorry I couldn’t save Dad, that it’s my fault somehow.. just to say sorry for hurting her so badly. I’ve always said I want people to like me for who I am, not what I am, and I think thats a good thing becuase right now, the “what” is a monster. But people do like me, and I don’t know how they can when I can’t even like myself. I look in the mirror and see someone ugly inside and out, and I just want to feel good about being me, but I can’t, because this is all I see when I look in the mirror. I see somene who tore his family apart, drove some to hate others, I lost the family home because I lost my job, and I couldn’t keep up with the mortgage. It’s me, I’m the one who did it, who just left Dad to die on his own, in a strange house away from his family, I’m the one who hurt my sisters so badly, so terribly and deeply, that it tore us apart...I’m the one who couldn’t hold the family together, and lost the home we shared. All that guilt is on my head, because it feels like it’s my fault, I could have stopped it, I could have been there for Dad when he needed me, but I wasn’t, we could have been a happy family still, but we’re not, and it feels like it’s all my fault. I want to take back so badly everything I’ve done to this end, undo all the bad decisions and the mistakes, I want my family to know how I feel about this, but they wont listen, they hear me, but no one really listens anymore. I’m flippant with others, even joke about what’s happened, but each time, it cuts a little deeper, hurts just that little bit more, and with each stroke of the passing blade, I lose myself that bit further. Of all the things I want in this world, what I want more than anything right now is to find me, who I really am, because I’ve lost that, this isn’t me, it’s a ghost, a hollow shell of my former self. My soul is mudded, tarnished by guilt, hate, self-loathing, anger....its all directed to myself, because thats where it feels it belongs, so how can I love, or even like myself? And if I can’t, how can anyone else? I don’t see any good points to me, I don’t know how others can. But I know they do, that keeps me fighting each day, but sometimes I wonder just how long I can take the pain..this massive weight on my mind....

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