Are You Satisfied?
22 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: confusion, cougar, Humor, love, mistrust, one night stand, People, Recreation, relationships, retaliation, sex, Student
Children’s Show (004) (Photo credit: Arbron)
So the good news is, I am Cancer free and finally feeling like I am. Not feeling much of the radiation side effects anymore. Also managed to work out a schedule between both of my jobs where I will still have some time off and get paid decently. I think my money struggles will be settled and things will finally be easier starting this week. Thank GOD! I have run out of food so many times this week it’s not even funny. It will be nice to have bills paid and a full fridge!
I’m currently enjoying some much needed down time. I have 2 to 3 weeks before my second job starts up again. I work in 6 week cycles booking child actors for auditions. But my down time has gotten me into some serious trouble.
The Reader HATES me right now. I got very angry with him. I can never seem to find the balance in our mock relationship. We’ve been talking almost daily since March. I have seen him once, and that was kind of a disaster. So pretty much every weekend for the past 4 weeks Either he has blown me off or we haven’t been able to work things out. I kind of get the feeling he’s not being super honest with me on everything. There was a span of 3 days where I was only about 6 minutes away from him and all he had to do was come over – and nothing. This past weekend I had managed to get a ride there to see him and a ride home. All he had to do was call me back and let me know when to show. Hours went by, he never called. My ride got irritated and left. When he finally calls he tells me he fell asleep and is acting very cool and nonchalant about it. Like no big deal, you rearranged your entire life for me, but I fell asleep so whatever. I just blew up.
I mean this guy has meant everything to me for so long. I have been nothing but straight with him. It seemed like a complete slap in the face. And frankly I am tired of giving a fuck about someone who is emotionally and physically unavailable to me. WHY BOTHER.
I took my why bother feelings and my it’s my relaxation time and all of feelings of anger and inadequacy and I went wild. For the first time in over a year I went down right insane. I picked up a handsome 20 year old college student and brought him back to my place. While this was completely age inappropriate and me feel like a disgusting cougar, it also made me feel like a woman again. This guy was just in awe. He kept telling me how pretty and sexy I was. He was so into me it wasn’t even funny. And I ate that shit up with a spoon. He must have had sex four or five times over a 12 hour period. We fell asleep in my bed and he was snuggled up against me all night whispering sweet things to me. In the morning it wasn’t weird or awkward. We both knew what this was and said our goodbyes.
I had some guilt issues afterward. I justified them to myself. The Reader had made it clear to me that he was reconnecting with me and had no interest in an actual relationship at this time. Really I didn’t do anything wrong. But I also wonder, if he knew about this would he be mad? Probably. Do I care to tell him, probably not.
I am satisfied with one thing in all of this. I CAN and WILL be able to live without The Reader. I have no plans to be as devoted to him as I have been. The fact is if he were any other man in the world, he would have to earn being with me. Why should I take this from someone who doesn’t put out even 1/4 of what I put into him.
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The Reader and Sad Pathetic Me
01 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: angst, fear, first love, love, relationships, single
The Smoker and I are done.
We split up about 2 months ago now. I am living alone and trying to find some solace. I no longer have to look at some big lazy guy on my couch with video games marked as priority number 1. I don’t have to beg someone else to help me. Or do their share. Or contribute in some fucking way.
Oddly The Smoker and I have managed to keep our weird friendship in tact. It’s a little more bitchy, but same as it ever was otherwise. My dear friend Artsy pointed out to me that we had started as friends, and while adding the relationship seemed like a logical next step, it fizzled out quickly. We kind of reverted back to how it was when we were roommates.
My search for love struck fear in my heart. Not quite ready for relationship territory and not ready to give up, I found myself thinking again about the one who got away. The one I idealized and compared every man since to. The one who broke my heart a thousand times, and I always wanted more. We will call him The Reader.
The Reader was my first love. Note, not my first boyfriend, but the first boyfriend where I truly fell in love with. I would spend 9/10th’s of my day thinking of him. Trying to find ways to express to him how I felt. He was my muse, my love, my reason to get up in the morning. But he wasn’t the best boyfriend. He would tell me he loved me and then completely retreat from me emotionally. He never wanted to be physical with me, which eventually became our undoing. I loved him, naturally I wanted to make love with him. The more I expressed this, the worse things became. I was so touch hungry and alone. I cried all of the time and felt completely rejected. I started taking drugs and starving myself thinking if I didn’t eat I could be lovely for him. Even his friends started to beg me to break up with him. His best friend even said I deserved better then that. Breaking my own heart, I did. I couldn’t love someone who couldn’t love me in return. I fell apart, and did what I do worst – I fucked one of his best friends.
It was obvious to everyone that I did the worst thing possible. I was drunk, he was drunk. We both had broken hearts. He was the closest thing I had to The Reader, I was the closest thing he had to Artsy (who had obsessed over.) So we found ourselves drunk and kissing, then sloppy horrible sex that was uneventful for either of us and just made things worse. He begged me not to tell the Reader.
A few days later The Reader starts calling me, we start talking about getting back together. He comes over to discuss it with me. I tell him I slept with his friend. His face changes – he says he’ll call me and leaves. Apparently he went to his friends’ house and beat the shit out of him. His friend shows up at my house with a black eye and screams at me for an hour. I say, I couldn’t start over with The Reader without being honest. The Reader doesn’t speak to me for YEARS.
Over the next 12 years we have little flashes of communication with one another. Nothing too solid. Nothing that gives me closure. Just little moments where I remember my love for him. It never goes away. I am never completely able to give myself to anyone, because there is always the maybe we’ll have our chance again.
I am no longer 20 and pretty, I no longer have the patience to be someone’s love pawn. I am 32, I have been stripped down by Cancer, I have lost more then my share. And I have been talking to The Reader since March.
I sent him a message via Facebook that i thought for sure he wouldn’t see for months or just wouldn’t respond to. Ever since the whole cancer debacle I have realized that at anytime my life could be gone. And I needed to tell him all of this, just in case I never had the chance again. So I went with the crazy notion and let it all hang out. I told him I never got over him, never stopped loving him, that he was it for me and always would be. That I realized it sounded nuts, but I didn’t care…. The next day he called.
We talked for 8 hours through out the day. Me and the Reader, the Reader and me. The spark was still there. My heart was doing flip flops. I was so nervous and excited at the same time. Just the sound of his voice was intoxicating enough. He called me everyday. I was beside myself. One night, as I am about to hang up, he tells me he loves me. I dorked out completely. My heart was on cloud 9. I hung up and I cried happy, happy tears.
So eventually we decide to hang out. I went above and beyond on this. I spent the weekend at my Mom’s house, since he still lived in my old stomping grounds, it would be closer to him. I packed up my life, borrowed my Mom’s car and went to see him. I was so nervous that I threw up. I pick him up and immediately smelled alcohol. He looked like he had been working all day. He looked tired. He tells me I look different. The combination of everything immediately gives rise to my insecurity. Did he just not give a shit? He hadn’t seen me in 12 years! Was this like just another day? Fuck it, let’s have some drinks!
We hang out and things start getting better. Laughing and enjoying the company of one another, we’re re-connecting despite my thoughts. It feels good. I find myself wants to have more courage. I want to touch him or kiss him, but I have no idea how. We start really talking. I tell him about The Ex, my affair with the Smoker. That I had almost married The Ex. We start having some more booze. Finally we get to the big talk… about us. We both come from a sex abuse background I had been raped when I was 13 by a friend’s ex boyfriend. He had been sexually abused as a kid. While I dealt with it by being promiscuous, he dealt with in the complete opposite way. He tells me that he was in a really bad place back then. He couldn’t love anyone, but he thought maybe he could love me. It strikes a chord, I cry, he holds me and it just all comes out. I had always thought it was me, that he just wanted a girlfriend, and not me. That maybe I was just some girl to him. It was so hard to hear that I was something special too him.
The night goes on but things get worse from there. He gets very sloppy drunk and things start getting weird. He’s knocking things over and fall down drunk. I hit a point where it gets to be too much and take control. I bring him home and find myself angry, really really angry. Not my idea of romance, or even a good time. What was up with this?
I avoid him for a few days. I felt kind of disrespected. Was it necessary to get that fucked up? Even my mother says something to me about how that kind of guy is no good for me. “I remember him now.” she says “He was that boyfriend that was always fucked up when he came over. Something’s don’t change Jill.” Her warning terrifies me. I want him but not like that. I want the real person, not the guy who has to hide behind booze. I think.
He calls me constantly leaving me messages that say he’s not going to stop calling until i talk to him. I was ready to write him off, but his determination wins out. I answer “What’s wrong?” he immediately asks sounding super concerned. I just don’t want to talk about it yet. Eventually he wins that too, I tell him how angry I was with him. He explains that he had been nervous about seeing me and took a bunch of Valium. When we mixed the booze, trouble ensued. OMG! What!?! Why would you do that! I was surprised. Why couldn’t you just tell me that you were nervous. “That’s not very manly.” he says. OK, I say, I get it. I’ve been there before. Speaking as someone who abuses substances more then I let on, I get it. In fact I have done that exact thing before.
I give him a second chance.
I lay down the rules of the way i want this to go. You come to my place, you find your own way to get here. Do it right, look nice, and don’t be fucked up. It’s your turn now. Make it up to me.
He says he’ll come by that night, he’ll call me when I’m done. The joke is on me. He never calls, he never shows. I feel all the pangs of the way things use to be all over again. I swear him off. I’m not doing this again. I think what am I to you? Obviously nothing. I tell myself I am going to quick this guy cold turkey.
In that short period of time I fuck my love life up even more. In some lame effort to move on, I start talking to a married guy who wants to have a fling. He is hot and wants to use me for sex. I am so damaged that I think this ok. Luckily I have a change of heart and finally tell him no. Saving myself from a HUGE mistake.
I also start speaking to John, a guy I had met online. Long story short, I video chat with him on Facebook and find out that he is retarded, like actually mentally challenged. Needless to say this made me spiral right into the bottle.
I started talking to The reader last night. I don’t know what is going to happen. My heart and mind are completely restless. I don’t know if we can pull this off. Or if I can deal with my fear. I am afraid of being with him, I am more afraid of being with out him.
God, if you are out there, send me something, a sign?
Beyond a Jam, Full on Jelly
22 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
I am hitting yet another of my bottoms and am making an effort to move forward in my usual sideways manner.
Where do I begin on this one? Oh, yeah, Adivan… I don’t even know if that’s the correct name, I was prescribed a generic. Whenever I get these in my hot little hands I have a habit of taking a hand full at a time and then go through withdrawing from them for a few days. I don’t remember everything I do when I take them. Smoker says I just babble and say crazy shit, then fall asleep for hours and hours sometimes even days. Obviously doing something like this and trying to have any kind of life or job is a bad combo. I haven’t been in my office for a week and a half.
I’m actually okay with the idea of losing my job. I sent an email yesterday giving them my extended written notice. By this I mean I am quitting, but I will give them some time to find my replacement and help out. I’ve been working from home. I did this because frankly a lot of my depression comes from my job. There is a lot of rejection in my work and it effects me. Not to mention I can’t seem to keep myself clean, healthy and employed all at once. The guys at my work said they would hire me back if I want to come back, which is great. But right now I need to be somewhere else. And with my next round of the crazies kicking in, it’s time to go.
I am agoraphobic, diabetic and cancerous. Sometimes I wonder if I am also slightly schizophrenic. Every place I have ever lived with the Smoker, I have had this problem of hearing “voices”. Always the same thing, neighbors talking about how horrible we are. Threatening to throw us out and call the cops. Every time always someone down stairs who hates me. It gets so bad I have to sleep with ear plugs in. I never feel safe. I am always afraid. Which creates this weirdness within my agoraphobia. I want to be safe in my space, but I fear the neighbors so I want to go out all of the time only to become afraid again and panic to get home and hide. I literally hide all of the time now. Even missed all of my doctor’s appointments.
So I am working with a company where I use my own USB headset and work from home doing almost the same thing as what I do now, but out of my house. Stretching out my job into a home based job until I am replaced. Trying to get off the benzo train and into meds that don’t make me feel depressed or like a drug crazed sleepy head. I have so much work to do on rebuilding again. Smoker is supportive by I can tell he’s a little wigged out by me now too. However, his lazy ass is encouraging me to keep both jobs and make double comission. Hmmm.
Changes
01 Feb 2012 3 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: car sales, Crafts, empty, Health, jewelry, lonely, post cancer, sad, Tap dance, therapy, Thursday, void, work
Image via Wikipedia
Things have been constant and demanding on me lately. I feel like I’m tap dancing to keep up. At the beginning of the month my boss was fired. I essentially trained my new boss and we have just settled into a routine together. I have been exhausted. I have been lonely. I have been fighting the darker parts of myself in trying not to give in to the stress.
The Smoker has become so routine in our life together. He’s this unbelievable drain. I hate him. But I can’t picture my life without him in it. I don’t know if I know how to live without him there. He’s been a part of my daily living for almost ten years!
I have been lazy about my physical health. I just don’t care. My diabetes has been a big issue, and I just keep ignoring it. In my head I rationalize it because having Cancer is enough. I can’t maintain both. I can’t maintain myself. And my boyfriend is just this strain on it all. He is addicted to big meals and sweets. It just feeds into my problems. I am an emotional eater and when I restrain myself and try and buy healthy food, he comes home with a bag of candy. I break.
I break too easily.
So I have just been trying to get through work. The car business is a hard one. I struggle sometimes. I get hung up on and yelled at every week. People give me fake info or send me on a wild goose chase instead of just saying you know what, I don’t want this car. I work on the internet. I provide info to people who ask for it from our national and local websites. I provide info, pricing and ultimate try and structure what you want with our dealership. Clients tell me what they need and I try and make it happen. Sometimes, I crack and just feel like total shit.
Thursday I plan on seeing a therapist. I feel so weird. Like I’m not a fully fledged adult.Like I’m too sensitive about everything. In too much pain to function in the world. I need something, a direction. When I was in the shower this morning I kept thinking, after everything I went through – I am back at square one. Before I got sick I felt empty, and was filling the void with sexual attention. Well I feel empty again, and sex is difficult for me these days. So I eat and self loath and smoke pot and self loath. Even making jewelry is making me feel awful. I feel like I don’t even rate. I started selling online, I have yet to sell to someone I don’t know. Nothing is fulfilling, just food, food FOOD.
How did I get so old and lame.
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Babies
17 Dec 2011 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: babies, baby, cancer, dialysis, fear, fertility, friendships, hope, kidney failure, ms, multiple sclorosis, relationships
The men in my life are dropping one bombshell after another…
Today was the first day I have been back to work in almost 3 weeks. I was so afraid of coming back. I don’t know why. I thought I might get fired for taking off so much time, or doing such a crap job while I was working form home. Or for always needing extra time off. But no. I walked in and everyone cheered and said welcome back. I was given hug after hug and everyone said, it’s ok, we understand, we love you. Co-workers! Do you believe that? So bombshell number one, the good one: My boss, the big one that runs the dealership, came into my office, told me I have complete job security. It was never a question in his mind about keeping me and that I have my job for as long as I want it until I don’t care to work there anymore. I was in shock, I sat there silent. I managed to squeek out, errr, I’m happy to be back!
The second bombshell came from someone I work very, very closely with. A manager who I also consider a friend. His kids are amazing and I adore them. He and I have always had this closeness. We started around the same time. When I told him about my Cancer, he sat with me and told me about how not only did he go through it, but so did his 7 year old son. He listened to me, texted me to see if I was ok. I was told he even fought for me when I wasn’t there, telling everyone that they should all be as tough as me. He came into my office and said I’m really sorry I didn’t call you while you were gone… I had my own medical issue. I said oh no, are you alright? No, he said, they think I have MS… I held my heart. He’s going through a messy divorce, he is the sole income of his family and now there is this. He’s scared. he’s trying to be positive. I hugged him. He got teary eyed and said I love you and thank you for being there. I said I was happy to be around him or the kids anytime. It broke my heart to see him like this. I want to do everything I can to help him.
Bombshell number three came in the form of the Smoker making a decision I did not expect. Never putting too much stock into this possibility as not to break my own heart. When I had my hysterectomy, a fertility doctor froze my ovaries. Yale has done an experimental procedure that has been able to produce 2 eggs in ten patients they have done this with. So my frozen O’s have a 20% of creating part of life. Smoker said he hated kids, didn’t want them. So in desperation I went to my Ex. We had been engaged for 5 years. One of our biggest issues was the inability to have kids. He’s very excited about the possibility and can help me cover the $8,000 fee. So of course now that things are in the works, The Smoker suddenly says he wants to father any potential babies. But he has no job, no future and never wanted them before. So I have a lot of decisions.
The last bombshell involves ore sickness. My step grandfather, who we call Pop, is very ill. His second kidney has gone and he is now in dialysis 3 times a week, every week, for the rest of his life. He looks thin, his hair is gone. He is a stubborn old Italian man and I fear he will end his own life by giving up and deciding not to go anymore. It’s like sickness surrounds me. He is 82, and has always been in rough shape. But I still hope he is ok. He is very sweet and has always seen me and my sisters as his grandchildren no matter what.
I’m slowly getting back to as close to normal as I can. Dealing with all of this joy and sadness. I want to be there for these people like they have been there for me…
Radiation, DONE!
14 Dec 2011 4 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: anxiety, cancer, cancer survivor, Chemo, depression, Endometrial cancer, oncology, Radiation therapy, survival, therapy, Uterine cancer, Vaginal lubrication
Yesterday was my last radiation treatment. Yay!!!! For some reason I really down played it. I had no idea what to expect going into it. As treatment continued I found myself feeling more rundown and exhausted. I talked to co-workers and friends about it. I talked to other patients about it. I quickly figured out why I had down played it so much. My own naivety. I never researched anything. My oncologist said it will be short and painless. Okay doc, I’ll report for duty!
My treatments were done internally, vaginally. It was humiliating. I am 32 and am a cancer survivor of stage four endometrial cancer. It’s a cancer of the uterus. I am the youngest person ever seen at Yale with this condition. It’s usual senior ladies that get this disease, when sexual activity has ceased. Radiation treatment done in this way causes: vaginal dryness and irritation, tearing, bleeding, itchiness, and it could also burn the area being radiated. Radiation as a whole tends to make you feel real run down and tired. So lump all of those symptoms together, add in a lack of estrogen and you get the chaos that is my body at the moment. Needless to say, I am struggling.
I think the hardest thing I dealt with was the drop in my estrogen. Chemo made all of my hair all over my body fall out. It’s all started growing back. But with my hair shorter then it’s been in years, and all of the weird feelings I started to crack up. I am still having issues with feeling feminine. I am going to speak with a therapist today about it. I started feeling like I was having gender identity issues. my oncologist started me on anti-depressants. They help a bunch, but I need to do the mental work now.
I also took an extreme amount of time off from work. I have been afraid of going back. My co-workers have been wonderfully sweet and sensitive about it. I don’t know why I am so afraid of going back.My boss hired a new girl to fill in whenever he or want time off and to help me take the time out that I need. I was upset at first, but now relieved he’s hired more help. I like the idea of being able to take a weekend off now and then, something I was completely unable to do before.
But the one thing that has really made me feel better has been making things again. I love crafting! I started a new etsy shop and am trying to work up to doing craft shows again. I’ve been making vintage inspired jewelry and knits. It feels so good to design something and see it come to fruition. It’s also been a great way for me to relax and center my emotions and sexual urges since that won’t be happening for some time.
So I guess things will be getting better now that radiation is over! Maybe life won’t be so hard. I am hoping that the side effects don’t always feel like they do today. They could last as long as 2 years. But whose counting, right? I am going to do my best to work through yet another bump in the road. Some days are easier, some are a fight. My oncologist said, just get through the next 4 years. I’m trying. One baby step at a time.
Radiation, DONE! What’s next?
Where Do We Go From Here?
16 Nov 2011 4 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: Brain, cancer, Effects of Cancer, God, Health, Hell, Medical Specialties, Medicine, Money, pain, radiation
I’m sitting in my apartment trying to figure things out. I’m stressing big over money and work. I am beside myself on what to do.
I’ve thought over and over again to myself, maybe I should try and start making and selling things again. I have developed this new style to everything I have been making. But I seem to have zero self confidence in anything I create or do these days. So I keep toying with this idea as an outlet and a good way to get some more income. Then I sabotage it.
As I was writing this, my friend Meg commented my previous post. My dealing with the loss of femininity. How no one is addressing or dealing and it must be such a huge loss. It is. And I am struggling to cope. My vagina has been through Hell. Sex will be painful. The chemo has shrunk my breasts down a size and they have become these sad flacid things. My hair is very short and I don’t know how much it will grow back. My figure is disgusting, my hysterectomy has left me with a huge fat top rolled stomache. I look like a gender confused middle aged woman. I feel like a guy. Man, woman, whatever – I am still miserable. Too much feelings in the middle. Not enough one way or the other. I feel like a big neutered freak.
For some who is so ruled by sex and sensuality, this is like a fucking nightmare. Everything I liked about my body is gone. My hormones are confusing. I don’t feel correct. What’s worse, I am having a really hard time functioning now and it’s like no one understands. I don’t know what I need. But all of thise new medical crap is making it so much worse. I thought I was done with feeling sick. I don’t want any of this anymore.
Every morning I wake up and the first thing I feel is some kind of pain. Then anxiety. It makes me feel like what did I fight so hard for? I have nothing left I can enjoy! I can’t have sex, and when I can it will be painful. I can’t look attractive, I can’t eat food I like because it fucks up my blood sugar and causes too many infections. I can’t take drugs because of the side effects. I feel I have no future, marriage and children are very much so out of the question. Not many of my friends and family are as supportive as they once were. I can’t even enjoy the money I make because I am barely staying afloat, with back bills, medicine and rent and shit. The only thing I get to do that makes me happy is I occasionally get to go to a casino and stare at the slots and gamble. Even that is very limited because of money. I wanted to travel after all this, but I can’t! Money and medicine prohibit that too. Chemo seemed easy compared to the aftermath. Now what the fuck do I do?
I would never wish this experience on anyone. The cancer I went through is meant for little old ladies winding down at the end of their lives. I am one of few cases who had the rare privelege of going through it at 31-32. It’s truly ruined my life. I felt grateful to be alive and happy just a month ago. Now I wish I felt nothing.
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Life On Mars
15 Nov 2011 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: cancer, cancer survivor, frustration, radiation, relationships
Where do I begin?
In July I found a new apartment, moved in with the Smoker, and started a new job at a car dealership working, where else, on the internet. The apartment happened to be less then 5 miles from the job. The job happened to have super flexible hours that allows me to work form home when I need to. The Smoker has been unemployed for 6 months and has been the one huge cog in my trying to get my shit together.
Here we are knee deep in November. I have begun radiation treatment. It’s done internally, vaginal. Between this and the hysterectomy I had to have my vagina has narrowed so much that the opening is actually higher up then it used to be. Once the radiation is over I’ll have to have sex therapy and dilation to try and make it comfortable again. This just adds to the embarrassment and difficulty of the situation. I have an infection and suddenly caught some sort of cold virus. So needless to say I am frazzled. I have been working from home and surviving in the bare minimum of my job. I am afraid if things get any worse, I will lose or end up quitting my job. I keep expressing this to the Smoker, who shrugs his shoulders and play more Xbox.
I am heading into a depression. Not only am I pist – my oncologist and I made a plan to avoid radiation, but here I am doing it. I had to start a new medication as a cancer tumor preventative that has been boosting the levels of testosterone in my system. I feel all wrong hormonally. I am carrying more than I can handle and am on the verge of calling my mother and asking to move home. The only thing I can count on the Smoker for is his limited care of me he seems to pull off. Some cooking, a little cleaning, laundry, and he helps me put socks and shoes on since I set off a sciatic nerve flare up in my leg a few weeks ago.
My body is shutting down and fighting me every step of the way. I feel it. I am also diabetic and at this point I can barely afford to keep up with the proper diet and medication.
Bills are piling. I’m supporting 2 people. I am sick and barely keeping up with my personal needs. I am fed up with my life as a whole and feel like a dude. Jesus, when does this nightmare end?
My Father Should Die Penniless and Alone
23 Jun 2011 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: bad choices, bad parenting, cancer, Christianity, father, Fathers Day, God, Hell, Homeless, Richard Lyons, scumbag, Shit, Sperm donation, Stepfamily
Harsh words, I know.
I haven’t written here in a long long time. Please allow me to do a brief rundown of what life has been since I last posted. Mr. Wonderful turned out to be rather lazy in love and became Mr. It’s All About Me. I realized it was the end when on the eve of my nerve wracking pre hysterectomy surgery appointment, he came home crying like a little bitch about some guy he worked with posting an internet video of basicly him stealing food from this little snack shop in the building he worked in. He said he always paid after the fact when he had money and that his reputation had been soiled. But between you and I dear readers, that’s kind of a crock. He had confessed to me on numerous occassions that he liked to steal. Especially when he felt like he was sticking it to the man. I spent my night comforting him. I dealt with my shit pretty much alone and terrified. He made no effort to be there for me emotionally. He made no effort to try and refresh our relationship. So I grieved, shut down, and then I left him for The Smoker.
The Smoker and I have had some serious ups and downs. He left me, I left him. We fought, we fucked, we fought some more. He went through a drug problem where he was with another girl. I left him and contemplated the very value of my life. In the end we came together and realized we loved each other, always had. We worked through most of our demons. I have to admit, jealousy comes into play now and then, but we are very solid. I realized I had been fighting being with him for so long that I was really just ignoring what I knew was right. I have always feared comittment. Running from relationship to relationship has been my way of dive bombing and sabotaging marriage.
So when Mr. Lazy and I split, I moved back to my father’s. Huge mistake! My father and I have had a lot of issues as long as I can remember beginning with me not knowing him until I was 16. Now that I am 31 I can see everything clearly. My father is just that, sperm donor. He is out for himself and no one else. He taughts being this good christian who prays and loves and does not judge, while he and his bitch wife sit there and judge everyone with their rigid ideas and greedy lifestyle.
All week long something has felt amiss. I over heard that bitch cunt step mother of mine saying horrible things about me. I fought goign on disability when I’d had cancer. It wasn’t until January that I even applied. I received compensation in April for my stage 4 severe Cancer in 3 places. I have had it for almost 3 months. My chemo ended last week and I am looking for a new job and apartment.I saved as much money as I could when it did come through. She told her friends what a bum and loser I am. That I’ll be sponging off the government for life. That I wasn’t that sick. That I was just like my down and out sister Tree.
I confronted my father in a respectful quiet manner. I said I knew what she said and that I thought it was a little hars. He disagreed, said I was a baby 32 (I’m 31) goign on 10. That i wasn’t that sick and could have worked (I tried, it was too difficult as I was sick all the time, besides many places were and are still reluctant to hire me because of the C word.) That I would never get my life together and I’d be 50 years old living off disability. That i have never worked a day in my life and haven’t held a real job in 7 years (i ran asmall business form 2008 – 2010 when I got sick. Towards the last year i only made $5000 because I was too sick. I worked 2 jobs and paid the bill for 3 people on my own before that.) That I was a no good loser. He hates me, my friends and my lifestyle. That I am a pig and make him sick. (apparently he had to “clean” my room for me because I don’t know how to use the giant machine he has to wax the floors. oh and I change my bed sheets once a month.) That he has no faith in me and will never amount to anything. That I will never get anything in life because my mother and grandmother spoiled (that one was real weird. I don’t know how that could even be possible when I grew up poor. Oh and he wouldn’t know because in 31 years I’ve actually only known and seen him for about 5.) And my favorite part besides him leaving me to pack my shit and get out less than a week after finishing chemo, was him saying I’m not a good person, that good people don’t mean shit and that he has zero faith in me as a human being. I’m lazy and I spend my life floating around doing nothing sponging off of any man who will come my way.
I hope you get Cancer and then tell me how energetic you feel. I hope you throw up every single day like I did. I hope all your friends and family slowly disappear. I hope someone yells at you to get a job because you got sick and needed a nap. I hope the day after your blood transfusion someone treats you like shit and does not let you heal from any kind of surgery. I hope that you lose your wife, family and money that is so so precious to you. I hope your credit goes to Hell and you have no choice but to stay on unemployment now that you have lost your job. I hope every bad thing you’ve done and lie you’ve told comes back to you. I hope you lose everything. Maybe then you will learn to stop hiding behind your “christian faith” and TRULY be a non-judgemental humble man and a true man of God. I hope that when I am done packing my things and walk out of your life, this time for good, that your God strikes you down in some way so that you can feel the pain you’ve put on me, and your other 3 girls who you constantly tear down. You are not a real man. You are not a real Christian. You are not a father.Thank you for showing me I truly was better off without you all along. You were a junkie when I was a baby, a drunk when I was a teen, and then a junkie a second time – where does the righteousness come from when you have so much to answer for yourself. I hope it feels good to throw a sick kid in the street. Die penniless and alone and we’ll be even,
In hatred,
Your Daughter, you know the first one from when you were like 16? yeah that one.
If you are so busy judging when do you have time to love?
Oh, I’m Just Waiting
29 Mar 2011 1 Comment
Waiting…
Still waiting…
The Smoker lives close by to me. He’s been helping me go to and from doctor’s appointments. When I am sad and in pain he gives me pot. He does a lot of nice things for me. But the one thing that makes me want to smack the shit out of him on a semi-regular basis is this: he over sleeps, his phone dies, he stayed out too late, whatever excuse. He won’t call he won’t show and he lies to my face. I have known him for so many years, seen the way he works, and still I sit here and wait.
Mr. Wonderful, The Smoker and I are all going to my doctor’s appointment early tomorrow morning. This appointment will detee how much Cancer is left in my body and when my hysterectomy is happening. I am at the point where I have had such anticipatory anxiety for the hysterectomy to just HAPPEN already that I want it to happen…now. I want to deal with it and be over the pain of it already
Having both of these guys here with me tomorrow is also make me nervous. They don’t care for each other. I’m also worried because I kind of want to hear the news myself. I have a feeling they will both want to be in the room. Oh God, I don’t know how to deal with any of this.
So it’s 3 a.m. My appointment is at 8:45. I’m going to attempt to sleep. I have a lot to digest tomorrow. I’m so sick of waiting. If The Smoker doesn’t show tomorrow, I’ll be so so mad…
