i'm sorry i've been shitty this month. i went back and read my blog, and felt super sorry for everyone who had to read my shit.
"you're drunk right now."
You're drunk right now!
no...wait, no, you're right. it's me...i'm drunk right now. sorry about that.
yeah. i know i had the bad liver shit, and the "let's try tea instead!" stuff. i did that, but this last week before christmas has been horrible for my brain, so i went back to drinking, because vodka is the friend that never tells you you're too fucked up to write a blog post. basically, it's the friend you wish your other friends could be, and that's probably why it's a bad idea to become alcoholic, and also, similarly, why i'm kind of glad i never grew up knowing people who sold heroin, because that sounds like the kind of friend who hugs you until you die.
deep breath.
sorry for getting weird (again) (always).
and sorry, for realsies, for being depressing and useless and junky all month.
i hate when my brain is like this, and i wish i could fix it, but almost everything sets me off in the wrong way.
sorry for that too.
sorry for being sorry all the time.
sorry that that is something i have to say.
here's the thing, ok?
i have problems. a lot of problems. you can't fix them, you probably can't help, unless you're one of like three people. four people. i do know real people in real life. four.
i know i'm shitty at life. i know that we'd all be happier if we could all look at my corpse as a lesson for other people. i know that at least four people would be horrified and sad of that thought.
so. i'm trying to keep me alive for you, for them, for me. too. i guess.
i hate being this mess, and i hate that i force other people to deal with my shit. that's not fair, because everyone has to live their own life, and they all have to deal with shit that's probably far worse than i do.
i'm a pretty, pretty, princess who never fucking grew up to accept that no one cares what you do when you get old and fat.
sorry. sorry for being sorry. sorry for making you think you need to comment about how i'm not so shit as i think i am. i'm a jerk for fooling you into making such a lie.
i'm just so sorry for everyone.
sorry.
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
obligatory "going away" post
going away for new years. probably won't update or read email or post tumblrs or do anything.
the same joke i always make about maybe my plane exploding and killing me.
i had work today, because i thought that if i took as little vacation now, i could save up my days and take a trip to japan next year. also: it's super depressing being the only person at work because everyone else has families and friends to hang out with.
but i saw my boss, and he was all like "you're doing great, and i hope you have a great time off, and maybe we'll see about getting you a raise or something like that. you know, for being cool."
and all i could think about was "i just want to slash my wrists right now because of that."
"whoa, sammy, that's kind of fucked up. how do you get 'suicidal' from 'here's a fucking compliment'?" you ask?
i really don't know. i think that the part of me that just wants to die and be dead and not have to deal with shit ever again gets frustrated when people are like, "i don't hate you." it'd be so much easier if everyone did hate me, so i could just go away and make everyone happy.
i think i probably need to go back to therapy some more. but that involves playing the tricky game of "i think i'm suicidal, but i want you to think i'm not that suicidal, because you'd have to call the cops or something, and i need to get back to work in an hour."
:-/
i do want to thank everyone for the kind words in comments and emails. i know listening to somebody ramble on about stupid shit isn't fun. i know you'd probably like to read new stories, and i do have a new idea of a chapter. i know it feels like i post these things to kind of vampire leech good feelings.
i'm sorry for being so lame all the time. maybe i can get help next year and get my brain sorted out again.
the same joke i always make about maybe my plane exploding and killing me.
i had work today, because i thought that if i took as little vacation now, i could save up my days and take a trip to japan next year. also: it's super depressing being the only person at work because everyone else has families and friends to hang out with.
but i saw my boss, and he was all like "you're doing great, and i hope you have a great time off, and maybe we'll see about getting you a raise or something like that. you know, for being cool."
and all i could think about was "i just want to slash my wrists right now because of that."
"whoa, sammy, that's kind of fucked up. how do you get 'suicidal' from 'here's a fucking compliment'?" you ask?
i really don't know. i think that the part of me that just wants to die and be dead and not have to deal with shit ever again gets frustrated when people are like, "i don't hate you." it'd be so much easier if everyone did hate me, so i could just go away and make everyone happy.
i think i probably need to go back to therapy some more. but that involves playing the tricky game of "i think i'm suicidal, but i want you to think i'm not that suicidal, because you'd have to call the cops or something, and i need to get back to work in an hour."
:-/
i do want to thank everyone for the kind words in comments and emails. i know listening to somebody ramble on about stupid shit isn't fun. i know you'd probably like to read new stories, and i do have a new idea of a chapter. i know it feels like i post these things to kind of vampire leech good feelings.
i'm sorry for being so lame all the time. maybe i can get help next year and get my brain sorted out again.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Saturday, December 20, 2014
tl;dr
Don't let them in, don't let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know
like....all this shit, right?
i hate holidays.
when i was little, it wasn't so bad. i'd make impossible stupid lists of shit that i wanted for christmas, i'd get a tenth of that, some clothes, some books, and some candy or something, and it'd all work out ok, because when you're a kid, candy and a doll can make any day the best day ever.
then, slowly, it kind of all seemed to rot. i could hear my parents talking, so i made my list shorter, and filtered out things that seemed too expensive. i tried to ask for things that didn't just look cool, but that seemed like they'd be fun to play with (so no more rock tumbler, because it turns out you can't just glue them to string and make a necklace).
[i maybe have told this story, but whatever, it's the time of year everyone listens to stupid shit songs they've heard since they were 4. i get to repeat occasionally if i want to.]
when i was in middle school, i think, we had gotten to the end of christmas, and had our regular ham for lunch, and my grandparents were going to go home. bachan was getting her purse and everything ready, and it hit me. she'd gotten one gift. i had this pile of junk that i thought was important, and she had a tiny bottle of perfume.
christ. i wish i knew what it was. she always put on the same scent when she thought she was going out to someplace fancy. like a movie. or dinner at a restaurant. like, shit that you and i would be like, "well, i guess maybe i should put on pants to go there." she'd break out the makeup and perfume, and i can kind of force my brain to pretend it can smell it, but i know it's not right. and now i'm crying again.
but i had a pile of shit, and she was happy with one thing and some ham. all i could think was, "what the fuck is wrong with me that i would think this is fair?"
and now, i'm all grown up and shit. bachan isn't here anymore, and she'd probably tell me i was dumb for saying stuff like this now. or she'd be distracted like she was for the last few years. fuckgin. why can't i free associate stuff like this when i have a therapist to talk to?
but i'm skipping the family get together this year. i've claimed "i've got stuff to do for work," and "my boss is a jerk," but that's not true. that's not at all true. the real reason is that i'm uncomfrotable with them. there's the usual social anxiety that probably isn't how you're supposed to feel around your family. then there's the like...success guilt?
is that a thing?
i mean, if i were to go home and see them, and eat ham and do all the stuff, i'd be sitting there knowing that i make more money than everyone else there. combined. how can i possibly make it right and make sure they're not going home with one thing? i already don't visit much, so when i do, i get fruits and books, and "oh, sammy, you like this, right?" things. so that on top of, "here, sammy, have this!"
i'm sure you're all like, "damnit, sammy, they're your family. they're not going to be counting items and summing receipts." i don't care. i can do it. fuck "can." "automatically do it because my brain is a fucking asshole who can't keep out of shit." this is worse, i think. i can come up with far more scenarios in which i annoy people than they can possibly reassure me about.
ok, i'm losing ttrack of the thread here. holidays. i'm breaking from the usual stress, and that's a new level of guilt-stress.
and i'm doing new years with my friend i went to visit for thanksgiving. she was doing well, but then economy and jobs and now i guess her husband is unemployed? so. i guess i'll be playing legos with her 2-year old. at least her demands are simple. "daniel tiger!" "LET IT GO!"
sigh. why can't everyone just be like, "let's watch daniel tiger and then frozen songs on loop for three hours?" i wouldn't be the crazy mess i am, i bet. i'd be in a nice relationship, where we'd both get home from work, look at each other, and just be like, "Chocolate!"
and i guess this song is actually by wham? i've only heard that one and another two jpop covers, so i never knew before now.
"you're drifting again, sammy"
ok, let's close up this rambley mess. i'm unhappy. the world sucks, and people murder and steal from other people all the time, for no other reason than they can't accept that everyone deserves the same treatment and life. there's nothing i can do about this. there's also nothing i can do about the fact that i'm terrified of everyone i meet, because my stupid brain can't ever forget anything that happens, and i assume other people remember those stupid embarassing things i say and do all the time. i don't think this will ever get better, and i'm afraid it'll just grow until i get to the point where i can't cope with the echoing madness of long forgotten events and slice myself open in the tub.
so...
um...
i hope you have happy holidays? i'll probably be back for a drunken christmas eve thing, and then not again until after the new year. sorry.
sorry for everything.
sorry for not writing faster than i do.
sorry for being weird over email.
sorry for being weird in general.
i know you probably don't hate me, because you wouldn't be here reading this if you did.
i'm sorry that i'm sorry about that.
when i was little, it wasn't so bad. i'd make impossible stupid lists of shit that i wanted for christmas, i'd get a tenth of that, some clothes, some books, and some candy or something, and it'd all work out ok, because when you're a kid, candy and a doll can make any day the best day ever.
then, slowly, it kind of all seemed to rot. i could hear my parents talking, so i made my list shorter, and filtered out things that seemed too expensive. i tried to ask for things that didn't just look cool, but that seemed like they'd be fun to play with (so no more rock tumbler, because it turns out you can't just glue them to string and make a necklace).
[i maybe have told this story, but whatever, it's the time of year everyone listens to stupid shit songs they've heard since they were 4. i get to repeat occasionally if i want to.]
when i was in middle school, i think, we had gotten to the end of christmas, and had our regular ham for lunch, and my grandparents were going to go home. bachan was getting her purse and everything ready, and it hit me. she'd gotten one gift. i had this pile of junk that i thought was important, and she had a tiny bottle of perfume.
christ. i wish i knew what it was. she always put on the same scent when she thought she was going out to someplace fancy. like a movie. or dinner at a restaurant. like, shit that you and i would be like, "well, i guess maybe i should put on pants to go there." she'd break out the makeup and perfume, and i can kind of force my brain to pretend it can smell it, but i know it's not right. and now i'm crying again.
but i had a pile of shit, and she was happy with one thing and some ham. all i could think was, "what the fuck is wrong with me that i would think this is fair?"
and now, i'm all grown up and shit. bachan isn't here anymore, and she'd probably tell me i was dumb for saying stuff like this now. or she'd be distracted like she was for the last few years. fuckgin. why can't i free associate stuff like this when i have a therapist to talk to?
but i'm skipping the family get together this year. i've claimed "i've got stuff to do for work," and "my boss is a jerk," but that's not true. that's not at all true. the real reason is that i'm uncomfrotable with them. there's the usual social anxiety that probably isn't how you're supposed to feel around your family. then there's the like...success guilt?
is that a thing?
i mean, if i were to go home and see them, and eat ham and do all the stuff, i'd be sitting there knowing that i make more money than everyone else there. combined. how can i possibly make it right and make sure they're not going home with one thing? i already don't visit much, so when i do, i get fruits and books, and "oh, sammy, you like this, right?" things. so that on top of, "here, sammy, have this!"
i'm sure you're all like, "damnit, sammy, they're your family. they're not going to be counting items and summing receipts." i don't care. i can do it. fuck "can." "automatically do it because my brain is a fucking asshole who can't keep out of shit." this is worse, i think. i can come up with far more scenarios in which i annoy people than they can possibly reassure me about.
ok, i'm losing ttrack of the thread here. holidays. i'm breaking from the usual stress, and that's a new level of guilt-stress.
and i'm doing new years with my friend i went to visit for thanksgiving. she was doing well, but then economy and jobs and now i guess her husband is unemployed? so. i guess i'll be playing legos with her 2-year old. at least her demands are simple. "daniel tiger!" "LET IT GO!"
sigh. why can't everyone just be like, "let's watch daniel tiger and then frozen songs on loop for three hours?" i wouldn't be the crazy mess i am, i bet. i'd be in a nice relationship, where we'd both get home from work, look at each other, and just be like, "Chocolate!"
and i guess this song is actually by wham? i've only heard that one and another two jpop covers, so i never knew before now.
"you're drifting again, sammy"
ok, let's close up this rambley mess. i'm unhappy. the world sucks, and people murder and steal from other people all the time, for no other reason than they can't accept that everyone deserves the same treatment and life. there's nothing i can do about this. there's also nothing i can do about the fact that i'm terrified of everyone i meet, because my stupid brain can't ever forget anything that happens, and i assume other people remember those stupid embarassing things i say and do all the time. i don't think this will ever get better, and i'm afraid it'll just grow until i get to the point where i can't cope with the echoing madness of long forgotten events and slice myself open in the tub.
so...
um...
i hope you have happy holidays? i'll probably be back for a drunken christmas eve thing, and then not again until after the new year. sorry.
sorry for everything.
sorry for not writing faster than i do.
sorry for being weird over email.
sorry for being weird in general.
i know you probably don't hate me, because you wouldn't be here reading this if you did.
i'm sorry that i'm sorry about that.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
i just hate everything so much.
wake up. stay in bed as long as possible. go to work. solve stupid problems for what is more money than i really need to survive, but also not enough for me to actually be happy solving those stupid problems. go to store. buy stupid junky food that has a 50/50 chance of either getting eaten or left to rot in my fridge. go home. hate all the shitty food i just bought, eat a thing of frozen mac and cheese instead. watch stupid tv all evening while reading crap on the internet that maybe was once fun, but now just seems like a boring trudge to keep up. go to bed and instead of sleeping (since that doesn't work anymore), watch youtube videos as i feel the springs of the mattress i just bought a year ago for like $1200 slowly stabbing me in the back until my eyes water from yawns and i put my computer away to try and pass out.
i'm supposed to do this for another like forty something years?
why?
what's the point? what do i get out of this shit?
i'm supposed to do this for another like forty something years?
why?
what's the point? what do i get out of this shit?
Monday, December 8, 2014
so i guess today is a bad day
i want to cuddle up under a billion blankets, and then slice my forearm until it's just basically hamburger.
thanks brain. you always know how to make my normal not sleeping into a hellish nightmare.
why don't you take this opportunity to just go fuck yourself in the face forever.
jerk.
thanks brain. you always know how to make my normal not sleeping into a hellish nightmare.
why don't you take this opportunity to just go fuck yourself in the face forever.
jerk.
Sunday, December 7, 2014
does anyone else?
just get drunk...
oh.
yeah.
so i did like a month of sober, and then when my doctor was all "yay! better liver!"
decided that if i just drink on weekends, maybe that's ok too? right?
listen, judgy mcjudgersons out there. i have a life i'm really not happy living, and sometimes drinking a bunch of vodka seems like a good idea. yes it'll probably kill me, but at least when i die i'll be so drunk it won't matter.
or so i hope.
but i am trying to be healthier, and all that jazz, and it wasn't like i had to get a drink, i just didn't see why i couldn't have a drink.
that sounds like i'm a super-drunk. just... can we agree it's not as bad as it could be? i'll try to not kill myself everyday, and you all come back with, "we don't want to stab you in the eyes, sammy!"
that's really all i'm asking for. not getting stabbed in the eyes.
anyway...(roll your eyes here for best effect)
you think of something, and then go to amazon to add it to your cart. and then your cart comes up "you have $170 in shit in your cart".
there's no way you're buying that much, right?
click click click "oh, what? shipping is $20? what's free shipping cost?" $19.44. "what? why?" because you're buying shit through the marketplace because it's $210 cheaper, sammy, and the marketplace is where original producers (who you're buying from) and cheap jackass hacks (who jack up their shipping so they can sell you a $0.01 book) live. relax, sammy, it's still cheapest.
drunk sammy still gets imaginary annie in her brain. that totally read, "relax, pet," when i first wrote it.
i'm not sure having fantasy people write my blog is a good thing.
so.
does anyone else just feel sorry about everything, and hope everyone they know can just forgive them?
oh.
yeah.
so i did like a month of sober, and then when my doctor was all "yay! better liver!"
decided that if i just drink on weekends, maybe that's ok too? right?
listen, judgy mcjudgersons out there. i have a life i'm really not happy living, and sometimes drinking a bunch of vodka seems like a good idea. yes it'll probably kill me, but at least when i die i'll be so drunk it won't matter.
or so i hope.
but i am trying to be healthier, and all that jazz, and it wasn't like i had to get a drink, i just didn't see why i couldn't have a drink.
that sounds like i'm a super-drunk. just... can we agree it's not as bad as it could be? i'll try to not kill myself everyday, and you all come back with, "we don't want to stab you in the eyes, sammy!"
that's really all i'm asking for. not getting stabbed in the eyes.
anyway...(roll your eyes here for best effect)
you think of something, and then go to amazon to add it to your cart. and then your cart comes up "you have $170 in shit in your cart".
there's no way you're buying that much, right?
click click click "oh, what? shipping is $20? what's free shipping cost?" $19.44. "what? why?" because you're buying shit through the marketplace because it's $210 cheaper, sammy, and the marketplace is where original producers (who you're buying from) and cheap jackass hacks (who jack up their shipping so they can sell you a $0.01 book) live. relax, sammy, it's still cheapest.
drunk sammy still gets imaginary annie in her brain. that totally read, "relax, pet," when i first wrote it.
i'm not sure having fantasy people write my blog is a good thing.
so.
does anyone else just feel sorry about everything, and hope everyone they know can just forgive them?
Friday, December 5, 2014
uuuugugughghhhhh
my nose is so stuffy and runny. i hate being sick. i just want to unplug my head, put it someplace where i don't have to deal with it while it's so gross, and then curl up under a blanket until everything is better.
:(
and it turns out that all the drugs i have for "being sick" have done basically nothing to fix anything. stupid useless junk!
:(
and it turns out that all the drugs i have for "being sick" have done basically nothing to fix anything. stupid useless junk!
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