The Feminine Urge To Disappear Into The Fog

     > Now Playing - Melancholia By Computer Wife

    Hi again, over the past few weeks I thought of a lot of different ways to start this post, ranging from "If you were going to set yourself on fire, what kind of music would you have playing in your headphones?" to a parody of Weezer's say it ain't so chewing out my father for being a scumbag. I actually wrote quite a bit of that post before scrapping it because I don't want him to have that much influence over me anymore. The Moron doesn't deserve it. I went camping for my mother's birthday 2 weeks ago. It was nice to break away from society and just Be. We went to Ocean City state park, my sister came along too, no the other one, yes that one. She makes music and stuff. The one I never see. She told me she thinks she has DID, which was a fun revelation, honestly tho it can't rule it out completely. Whether or not its true is not any of my business anyways, she knows her head better than any of us. If it clicks, it clicks.  One of the days we went camping, we went for a walk early and the beach was covered in fog. Thick, soupy fog, the kind that only beaches get. Typically coastlines like that scare me, I don't like being able to see the horizon. It Really freaks me out, I grew up surrounded by mountains, and going to the Puget Sound, there's always mountains on the other side. Strangely, I found this blanket of fog that was by all accounts terribly creepy, comforting. I mean we're talking real silent hill stuff, can't see shit in front of you, can't tell the ocean is even there if not for the crashing of waves. Tide was low too so we had to walk Pretty far out to find water. It felt like we could just keep going and going, walking into the fog forever, until we ended up somewhere new, somewhere different. Somewhere where I'm different, somewhere where things are better perhaps, or worse, but different. I wish I had lingered on that beach longer but Snoopy was starting to get upset so we had to walk back to camp. It reminded me of a dream I had once, not sure why because the dream was about shooting a man in cold blood in the desert. I can't explain why I did it, it just was what I did. Cold steel in my hands, silent disposition, he looked afraid. He Was Afraid. he turned to run and just like that. Bang. blood on my hands. Cold blood, in the back. Like a damn coward. I just stared for what felt like an eternity and then I turned to look at the sun and I woke up. He was right to be afraid, I am dangerous. I find myself afraid of me at times. I'm so wildly unpredictable, my temper is far from stable, I can be heartless at times. I'd wonder whats wrong with me but I have the displeasure of knowing all to well all the unfortunate shortfalls and faulty wiring in my brain. Nature, nurture, culture, it all built me to what I am today. Emotionally immature, unstable, rude, hedonistic, and hollow. The more I try to work on myself, the more work there ends up being. A sisyphean cycle in nature and yet I never feel like I'm spiraling Up. Anyways, if I was going to set myself on fire I think I would listen to something calming, maybe even foreign. Like Japanese citypop. Really juxtapose the act from the feeling. I guess to be ironic? The rest of my life seems to be some sick sketch of irony directed by the dryest comedian ever, seems fitting to end that way.  Not that I'm going to, this is entirely hypothetical. An intrusive thought I had one day that struck me as so fucking funny that I proceeded to think about it for 20 minutes. There are obvious answers, Self Immolate by Gizzard jumped to me but that felt too on the nose. Institutionalized by suicidal tendencies, too angsty, something by the sex pistols or American Idiot by Greenday felt too preachy, and I don't even like the sex pistols. Hell even Brat crossed my mind, Spring Breakers by Charli XCX would be pretty funny. I settled on a song by Masayoshi Takanaka, I don't know what it's called , the name is in japanese characters of some kind and I certainly can't read it but its the second track off of his SEYCHELLES album. It's wonderfully bright and soul fulfilling. It brings joy.

    Speaking of joy, I have been searching for it. I've found it in the strangest places. A beer alone at the bar, saving tiny frogs from work, picking up my Spironolactone prescription, taking my dog for walks in the park, buying perfume, an herbal exfoliating scrub, going on dates with cute girls who talk to me sweet, listening to someone else info dump, buying lipgloss, weird savory cocktails, campy bars in college towns, Dive bars that are secretly queer spaces, Sunday night jazz, gaining weight, dressing up for mundane activities, buttplugs, cute underwear, making my therapist laugh, making my therapist cringe, you know, the little stuff. I'm finding myself, and healing myself hopefully. I wish I had done it sooner, maybe things could be different, maybe I wouldn't have hurt all the people I hurt, maybe my friends could bare to see me again, maybe I wouldn't have spent my birthday throwing up all over myself at my sister's apartment. I doubt it. I think things happened this way because they needed to. Realizing my mistakes is part of what makes me this way, I spent so long thinking I was scum of the earth, bottom of the barrel fish, dog shit to be wiped off of a shoe. I'm not. Morally grey maybe, but the things I've done could have been worse. Much worse. With how selfish I acted, its amazing to me that I didn't do worse. I realize now that when everything blew up and the news about my past came out, I reacted very selfishly. As if I couldn't believe everyone would turn their backs on me like that. I mean hell I'm pretty sure I said those exact words. Even just 6 months ago I was so blind to the truth. They took 8 steps back away from me, but their backs were not turned. I can't expect people to stick by my side through something like that, I'm lucky I'm getting away without any jail time for fucks sake. As does anyone who does what I did and goes unreported, I'm getting off so fucking easy, I don't deserve it at all. I need to take this chance I've been given to turn it the fuck around. Here's the issue. I was trying so hard before to be a good person. Some sort of savior complex bullshit. I was failing so hard. Being so horrible. It seems that everything I try to be, I become the opposite. Maybe Now is the time for my villain arc. I Can't really be redeemed because of what I did. I should stop trying for redemption and embrace being a villain. Not necessarily evil, or an antagonist. Just like a villain in a story. Embrace the Big Energy of it. I don't know if I'm making sense anymore. I'm not going to like, keep making the same mistakes and hurting others (ideally) but I'm going to stop begging for forgiveness. I know in my heart I am a different person. A better person. Anyone who hasn't forgiven me by now, is not going to. Why keep asking. I'm going to channel Villian energy and start being the Bad Gal, because nothing I do can be worse than what I've already done. I need not be a perfect goody two shoes anymore, no societal standard holds me back, no truly I am just going to be myself. Maybe she's a bit of a villain, we're all the villain in somebody's story afterall, she can be good, she can be bad, but truly she is simply an alligator trying to live her one life, with her mistakes included. A part of her forever, just like every other part. I think sometimes about if there was a police report filed against me (again technically, the first one from 6 years ago got dismissed for lack of evidence) what I'd do. I'd probably turn myself in. Plead guilty. There is no point in fighting something I know I did. Would I end up in jail? Perhaps, on a list? Likely. Would it kill every future opportunity for me? Sure! But I was probably gonna do that anyways. Some time in jail might be good for me anyways. I don't know if thats true, or if that would even happen, it has just been on my mind as of recent. I let slip at work (through my big damn mouth) that I'd been kicked from my band and blacklisted from every DIY venue and punk space in seattle, and am generally unwelcome in the band scene, and now the fellow cashiers won't stop bugging me about why. I don't even know what to tell them, I drop bits and pieces, that I deserved it, I made a lot of bad decisions, that I'm not the kind of person they think I am, but now they just think I have this tragic back story, which is partially true, but it has nothing to do with all that. Thankfully we are busy enough that I rarely have enough time to even begin to get into it. But now they know I have secrets, juicy ones, dark ones. Everyone loves the gossip i suppose, I just hope they tread lightly, otherwise I'll be forced to tell them like I told my coworker Dawn. She took it pretty well, sees the good in me as well as the bad. I doubt they'd have that same reaction. 

    Deadlines move ever nearer to me, the reality that I'll be forced to leave this house in october ( or november technically) is ever dawning and drawing closer. My search for roommates, an apartment, anything, grows frantic. The possibility of living in my truck is becoming all too real. I got myself here though, so whatever happens next, I deserve. I've had that mentality a lot lately. Bad stuff will happen to me and I simply feel I've earned it. Karmic retribution. No longer do I ask what I've done to deserve this. I knew all along. Creatures from the past rear their heads and memories strike me like lightning. I freeze, paralyzed by my thoughts, and that little fucking mind goblin wiggles into my head again. It's okay though, I 've got him tied to a tree like 21 pilots said. The world around me deteriorates at an alarming pace. I'm living through what could lead to the peak of Fascism in the USA. I'm at risk, my family is at risk, everyone is really. We could have our rights stripped away, be deported, sent to a modern concentration camp, even killed. I want to go to protests, but I know too many people who might be there, and see me, and kick my ass. I don't think people are still that mad at me anymore. Hell since I've been gone 8 people have probably been "cancelled" in the scene. But I know certain people out there that it's on sight with. My name may have faded into obscurity with the rest, but there are some folks out there who truly think I'm the worst animal on this earth and would curbstomp me into oblivion given the chance. I don't want to cause trouble, I don't want to ruin things for other people, and my presence alone can do that now. What am I supposed to do? I mean you're supposed to hide your identity as best you can but that's a Minefield then because they may not recognize me from afar but they'd be able to from up close, my voice is pretty unique. I don't know, I feel like they could tell by the eyes alone. Maybe I'll go when the schedule lines up and I'm not supposed to be at work. There are other ways I can support the cause in the meantime. Like bitching out my fake redneck coworker at work for being a heartless piece of shit.

oh woe is me, what's a gal to do!? Take a luxurious Shower and shove things in her ass probably. Alright, see you later.

The Flop, The Turn, The River, and The Waterfall

       >Now Playing - Don't Know How To Love by EVER

    It is so much easier to deal with your problems when you frame it as others deliberately hurting you, instead of all of us not having any fucking clue what the Hell we are doing, and hurting each other in the process. The reality is sometimes bad things happen because of the circumstances that allowed them to be.  Whether it is ignorance, negligence, bitterness and wrath, foolishness, selfishness, or what have you. It is easier to say that they were done out of Evil and done Deliberately, but sometimes it is simply a mistake, a misstep, the wrong decision, a missed connection, the wrong words coming out at the wrong time, a lowered inhibition, a low impulse control. Sometimes things happen, and you get hurt, and you want a clear villain to blame. That is natural. It is human. I did it, and I see now the error in my ways. I have been on both sides of it, and I say this understanding that what I did was wrong, and I live with that guilt. No amount of "I'm sorry" and "It will never happen again" and "I'm fundamentally different now" will ever wash that away. No that will stick with me till I die I think, but it has also given me the opportunity to reflect on how I have vilified others, and realize that if it is unfair to one, it is unfair to others. Everyone has their reasons for why they do things. Whether they believe it is right or not, nobody does things just for the sake of evil. That is Not a concept that exists in the real world. Evil comes from prioritizing yourself at the expenses of others in a way that directly causes hurt and pain to them in a way you comprehend entirely. Every godforsaken CEO who breaks the back of his worker to make an extra dollar, they believe they are doing what they need to in order to get by in this world, every murderer has a motive, every thief steals because they feel they need to. When people wrong me, they do it because they don't know better, or they felt they needed to. Whether it's true not is irrelevant, and in some cases malleable. Everyone feels justified in their cause, and everyone has a villain in their story, I need to break this cycle for myself in order to truly move past this time in my life. The hard part comes with the fact that if I do so, it does not mean that anyone else will join me in that. I must learn to accept this. People will think what they want about me, say what they want about me, they will speak the truth, they will slander, they will simply state their opinion, and they are entitled to do so. I cannot change what other people think about me, this is something entirely out of my control. No, truly my self ideation must come from inside. From what I know of myself, and what I believe about my future. Everyone else will think different. This is okay. I must know who I am inside and be confident and comfortable with that. No idealized version of myself, simply what is true. I am flawed, this is true, I have done bad things, made poor decisions, this is true, I have done good things, made positive decisions, and helped others, this is true. I am not a victim, however I once was. This is true. The events in my life caused me, tho directly or indirectly, to do the things I have done, good and bad. They will continue to do so, current events included, this is true. I am trying to do better, and working on being better, this is true. Many others who have been down the same path failed to change course in the way I am trying. This is true. Think of it like this, you are flowing down a river, it splits many times, and has forks. You hold a paddle with which you may choose what fork you go down. For a while you thought you could not fight the current, it is too strong, and you are weak. This river ride you are on has forced you to make hard decisions, not just the simple left or right, no, decisions that change lives. Rationing food and water, casting out extra weight from your raft, repurposing beloved artifacts into patches for the holes in the raft. Then suddenly over the horizon you see it. The Waterfall and before it; some rapids. Sure,You've already braved some rapids, but these will surely wreck your already shitty and dilapidated raft, and there will be nothing to hold onto when you go over the falls. Perhaps death awaits at the bottom, if not, a destination so unsavory that you may wish death upon yourself. Out of desperation you try the unthinkable. You begin to paddle upriver, against the current. Perhaps you were not as weak as you thought, because you find your raft slowing down. It is hard work, your arms tire, sometimes you slip and the current catches you, however you Must keep rowing. You must change your course, because if you do not, you will not like what will happen to you, you will not like what you will become. You find yourself alone on your raft because you threw everyone else off at previous forks in the river, and anyone who wasn't thrown off was lost in the rapids. And so you paddle, with no help. You fight the current, and it is hard, but everyday your raft slows just a little more, and you begin to make progress in the right direction, you can feel the current shift around you, soon you will keep pace with the salmon running up river, and you may even find yourself able to return to a fork, and change your course, save yourself from the waterfall. It will not be easy, but it was not supposed to be, and taking the easy way has got you here. This is what I am doing currently. Fighting years of programming and nature that has made me who I am today, arguing with the little voice in my head who says that I'm not worth it. Fighting an upbringing that has taught me to take what I want, and do whatever it takes to achieve that. Fighting every survival instinct I thought I needed. And realizing I was wrong. Accepting that I cannot undo the wrongs I have done, and paddling onward, holding out hope that the other fork in this so called river doesn't also lead to the same place. Hope is a sad thing, because if you look around, it's hard to find. But if you're lucky enough to find it, you cannot let it go.

    I met somebody recently. Someone who talks to me like he did, someone who talks to me sweet and says all the right things. We met through some weird random happenstance, a dance I was invited to, and I thought it was a miracle. I suppose I was blinded by rose coloured glasses. I liked their sweet words, I liked the attention they gave me. It made me feel good, valued, like I was someone entirely different. They brought out the fun side of me again, the side that dances, the side that likes to dress up and go out, the side that I wish I had more of. and I thought maybe there was something of substance there. The attention got to me, my sad little worn out heart perked up like a dog in a kennel hearing the door open. Of course... they don't want something serious with me. Not that I'm ready, or that it'd be even good for me right now. I still have much to figure out, and many things to cope with before that, but if you doubt even for a moment that I would have jumped at the chance for something like that, you are Dead wrong. I mean come on, I've always been the self-destructive type, and a hopeless romantic. But it doesn't matter. That isn't what they want. I don't know what it is they want. Probably just to fuck me and toss me aside like the rest of them, a glorified goddamn escort they can pay in moscow mules and tequila shots. Okay so maybe I'm exaggerating and projecting and all that stuff my therapist has told me not to do. But still, the disappointment my little heart felt when they said friends with benefits... I'd felt that somewhere before. With someone before. It made me do some things I regret, and in doing so, I sowed seeds of distrust in a valued relationship. And yet there I was in the bathroom stall making out with them. I knew it was a bad idea, but I wanted to. If you had a crush and they said "wanna make out tonight just as friends haha" you telling me you'd say no? What was a girl to do?! I know it's a bad idea, but I'm seeing them again soon. I said it, I like the attention. They make me feel good, we have fun together. They call me baby, and pretty girl, they talk to me sweet. They treat me like a princess, and it's all I want. Or... just short of all I want I guess. Besides, there's no way they'll stick around when I tell them Why I got kicked out of my band and Why I'm working so hard on myself. I Hinted at it that night, but it was the second time we'd met, I'm not just gonna go around telling every james, mary, and joe what happened. It's personal, and yes they'd have a right to know if they were really invested in a relationship with me, but I don't really get that vibe, so I'll sit on that for a bit, till I'm sure they can hold the space to hear me out. Understand what I'm trying to do. Take all the facts, and decide if they wanna keep seeing me. Another thing that puts me off is their strange need to keep us a secret, even if we're just fooling around, something about their mom not approving or something, which is fair because we're queer and such, but I get the feeling it's not about the queerness. Whatever, I don't know their situation and I can't speak on that. So I guess in conclusion, my heart aches, but I'm going to have my fun and try not to get hurt (or hurt them) in the process.

    Snoop Dogg had a vet visit. I'm really proud of him, he was very brave even if he didn't let the vet tech try and shove a thermometer where the sun don't shine. He got his vaccines, and he got a biopsy for a weird lump on his chest (the main reason we took him). It was tough seeing my poor lad in such dire circumstances, and I absolutely HATE that they didn't let me stay with him when he was getting the needles poked and prodded into him. I seriously worry about him lately, but the vet says other than the lump and being slightly overweight, he's perfectly healthy. I've been trying to get him to exercise more, and I put him on a proper diet. I'm just trying to give him the best life I can while he's still around, he's had a rough journey just like me, and I made a lot of mistakes when growing up with him that I'm trying to fix. He's old now, his eyes are a little cloudy, and the brown in his fur is fading to white, but he still acts like a puppy. I don't.... quite know what I'll do without him. He's been by me through good times and bad, we're sort of trauma bonded together. He was my only friend in Portland, he was my confidant when I had no one else, and when all my friends turned their backs on me, it was his neck I cried into. I know he isn't going to live forever, I just need him to make it a little longer. I don't know if I can finish this fight without him. I just want him around a little longer. If this is the year he...... 

    Well I don't want to think about that anymore. Right now he's healthy, and I'm trying my best. Instead I'm going to outline my "Life Plan" as it stands

Snoopy has been certified as an ESA, meaning we can take him with us when we move.

I have (almost) successfully changed my name to Allie Gator Rojas (just waiting on the ID so I can transfer my bank info over)

Next up is obtaining my GED. I'm trying some free online resources to essentially Relearn math

Afterwards, I'm going to try technical college, I think Culinary sounds like a good choice, maybe something in botany.

From there I'm... moving to New Orleans? I guess? Maybe I need to save up enough money first... 

Then It's New Orleans.

I was gonna try financing a new electric drum set in order to build credit, but it seems that's not a great option, so maybe I'll get a credit card and make the payments with the credit card and pay the credit card bill to build credit. I dunno. Still gotta think that one through.

Gosh, what else to say. I don't know. I'm trying hard to be kinder to myself, and my therapist says that's good. I'm trying to force myself out of my comfort zone, and do things I wouldn't normally feel like doing. So far it's paid off. Saw the new How to Train Your Dragon movie, it was good. I'm starting to force my name at work so people are starting to Get it. Things might just be looking up, but I'm afraid to say that. Because Everytime I say that, they just come crashing down again. C'est la Vie I suppose, I'll pick up the pieces like I always have.

Regrets, and the path that Lies ahead

>Now Playing - Runnin' by Manwolves    

     What I wouldn't do for just one more phone call from you. The same ones that used to make my heart sink and my eyes water, I now find a longing for. I know I wasn't perfect, not even that good, and I know you deserve better, but I can't help but miss what we had. You treated me better than I deserved, and it's the only time I've felt cherished and appreciated in a relationship. I simply didn't return the favor. I'm so sorry for how I fucked things up and I know it doesn't mean fuckall to you now because of how I acted when we were together, still I'd cross seas, climb mountains, just for a single phone call I used to dread. I'm sorry I didn't appreciate you when you were here, I'm sorry it took losing you to wake me up, and I'm sorry you got hurt in the process. I know you can't forgive me, I don't expect you to, but I can't help but yearn for one more call. I don't even know what I'd say, maybe I'd just listen to you talk, yell at me. Just to hear that voice again. But I can't, and you won't call. I don't want to subject you to anymore of my bullshit excuses or shitty behavior. But a girl can dream, and she can miss her ex, and she can remember the good times they had, and regret all the wrong things she did. And she can accept that it's too little too late. I hope you are well, and I hope you take good care of my friend, he needs it right now. I miss you more than you could imagine.  I feel like such a fool, if I had a Seco Thir Fourth 

If I could do it over again I... would probably manage to fuck it up again, and still be sitting here sorry, and still be writing this.

    It's funny how people will scapegoat you for things you had nothing to do with if they find out you are flawed. Oh you made a mistake? You must be the source of all my problems! It's funny how many people have come forward to blame me for things I had little to no part in, or getting upset with me for something they never told me. I don't quite see the sense in that, but I get it. Nobody wants to take the blame for their own problems, I know that all too well, but you can't keep running from it. I've learned that the hard way, Sure I'm shallow, vain even, prideful, easily upset, but I can only influence others so much, what other people do to you based on how You Act is not my business. And yeah, maybe I talked shit which is bad (I don't know when I became the kind of person who did that to people) but if there are that many willing to talk shit about you, maybe you should reassess your own behavior. Sure I didn't think to ask personal questions about things I had assumed about you, but you never volunteered the information either? But sure, that can be my fault. Got any new girlfriends lately is a pretty funny way to start conversations! Whatever. I'm not mad, if anything I'm happy to be something you can point to and blame. Maybe you can work things out if you've got an easy enemy, and hey it brought you together with some good people. I'd rather have 5 friends who stick by me through thick and thin than a whole network that is ready to hang me out to dry the moment winds change. Unfortunately I'm left with neither. I must pick up the pieces for myself, and the best friend I got has cancer, and isn't long for this world. She helps me though, she sees the good inside me that has been hidden from my vision for so long (for future reference, don't ask a bunch of people who are Really Super Mad at you if they think you are a good person, they will not give you an impartial answer). Yeah, I've done some real bad shit, scummy and unforgivable deeds! I have also done very good things, I have helped people in need, I have been generous and offered people places to stay when they needed it, I have given my own money away to others who need it more, cause I was probably just going to buy weed with it anyways. I am not good, nor am I bad, simply human. Humans make mistakes, really fucking bad ones sometimes, but humans also learn, and adapt, reinvent themselves for the better. That's my path now, Reinvent myself for the better. As someone who cares to ask about the little stuff, as someone with the integrity to not talk shit behind people's backs, as someone who stands up for what's right, as someone who isn't a liar, and as someone who will Never Forget the things they have done, but someone who also doesn't let that hold them back from growing and changing as a person. I have grown and changed so much in 6 years, not enough? Clearly, but I'm not fucking done yet. I'm not done kicking, I still have a fire inside me and that stupid fucking mind goblin is Not going to win. I keep him on a harness now, and he doesn't speak unless spoken to.  I still have so much changing to do, I still have a long road ahead, but I've got my running shoes on and I'm ready for the challenge, I have done harder things and came out on top, I have faced worse situations and came back with only minor mental issues, I Can Do This. I will prove to everyone who doubts my character that I am capable of being Better, and doing Better. 

    Can you believe I made it a point of pride, how good I was at lying? I did it so much,  I got real good at it. Lying to my parents, lying to my sisters, lying to lovers, friends, even myself. I had a lot of training when I was young. The truth would often lead to punishment, that teaches you how to lie real good, real quick. So good you can even trick yourself into believing it! A good lie will do that, it's why nobody thinks to question it. If you yourself believe it to be true, there is no tell, nothing that would lead them to suspicion!  I got good at suspending my disbelief, suspending the truth, for my own gain and benefit. It feels vile, it betrays everything I live for, and it betrays everyone you love. After you do it, your guts twist up like they're trying to burst out of you. And one lie is never suitable. It always snowballs eventually, to the point where you can't even keep track about what's true about yourself! It makes you question things about YOURSELF that you take at face value. Did I really start drinking when I was 11 or did I just say that to seem cool in middle school?  Was I really Assaulted at age 12? Did I really try to off myself at that age? Was it just the one time? Was it multiple? Was my family really as mean as I make them out to be? Was I really so alone? Can I be sure? I know what I remember happening to me, but how much of it is fabricated? How much did I so conveniently leave out to spin a narrative? Okay maybe I'm exaggerating since Most of that stuff Definitely happened, but who can trust Me about it? Can I trust myself? This is what being a good liar does to you. Self doubt is sewn in every word, but you've got to seem like you know exactly what you're talking about. It's hell. Never again. Honesty is a virtue, and I need to live by it now, lying is a hard habit to break, but hey no time like the present! Nobody I've lied to wants to be around me anymore, all I've got to do is be honest with all the new people I meet, and if people do end up coming back (doubtful) Tell them the truth. Tell them I lied. It will make them mad, they may not want to come back afterwards. But it must be done. A clean slate can't be clean if there is a layer of rust on it.

    I've been trying to remind myself that I'm still allowed to have fun. I can't just wallow the rest of my life away, and I can have fun without guilt. I bought tickets to see Less Than Jake (and Fishbone and Catbite and the Suicide Machines) this august, I've been going out to the jazz bar to see live music, why just yesterday the neighbours set up a projector in their yard and invited us to watch The Wild Robot (yes I did almost cry but I was wearing makeup so I held it the fuck together). I'm allowed to enjoy myself, I'm smiling more, and not feeling guilty about it. Every day I feel more and more like myself, no longer is it a monster I see in the mirror. I see a girl, a (mostly) human girl. Her name is Allie. I love her, loving her is hard. She fucks up a lot, she can be really mean to people who don't deserve it, she's snarky and rude, bold and unfiltered, and she's done a lot of bad things, but I love her. I have to. She is beautiful, and she's just started living her life genuinely. Being unforgivingly and unwaveringly herself. Living authentically, owning her mistakes, and forging a path through this godforsaken Earth that sets the road aflame.

and I think that's okay. Good even! Every day she does better and better, and every day her image in the mirror gets clearer and clearer. The path to a better future for her is ahead of me, and I'm taking it one step at a time, my pace was a lot slower before, but now I can feel it, a jog, turns into a run, into a sprint, soon I'll be galloping towards that bright end of this dark unforgiving tunnel at gatorlike speeds. And I can't Wait.

    

New Orleans or bust (my brains out this mortal cage)

     What if I did just up and leave. Nobody wants me around here no more, I can accept that, it's my fault after all. What if I moved to New Orleans, or Virginia, or somewhere stupid like Sacramento. It is a terrible idea really, I don't have a degree, no meaningful job experience, barely enough saved up depending on where I go, and I can't fly because my passport is expired, so I'd have to drive my low MPG truck across this godforsaken country. A girl can dream though, New Orleans. With real alligators, good food, and cheaper rent than Seattle. That's probably a pipedream if I'm serious but it has been keeping me going lately. New Orleans, the Bayou, the Real Swamp, where a Gator like me belongs. Could be a good fresh start, brush this old me off and try again, a fifth time, or sixth, or seventh. How ever many it takes before I find a place I can settle into, dig my roots in deep, Make Friends, Keep Them. Plenty of musicians down there would love a drummer, I might need to learn jazz though.... worth looking into?

      Another thing that has kept me going lately is remembering that I am a result of what I am taught and my environment. My therapist raised a great point last session, they said I didn't have good boundaries modeled for me as a child. My father cared not if we wanted privacy, if we didn't want to be touched, if we wanted pretty much anything he didn't agree with. My mother, though less extreme, wasn't any better. I wasn't taught love, or care, empathy, consent, I wasn't taught respect, for myself or others, only authority. Furthermore I was frequently pressured to do things I didn't want to, all throughout my childhood. To the point where I thought it was normal, which led me to do so to others. It kind of makes sense in a way. Not that it's an excuse, I still was taught wrong from right, I know what the word No means, I knew better, then and now. There's always a choice, and I chose poorly based on the cards I was dealt. Learning these things, seeing them in this context is helping me understand how I was able, capable, of committing such heinous acts. Ideally, this will help prevent future fuckups. Ideally, but I've always found a way. I can't change my previous actions, I can barely explain how they happened, but I can change my behaviour for the future, for the better. And I can attone, partially based on the advice of someone who reached out recently I set up reoccurring monthly donations to RAINN and the Sylvia Rivera Law Project. It's not much, but I don't plan on cancelling them anytime soon, it sucks that I'm throwing money at this problem, but the money is going to help victims of people like me, and worse people, and I'm okay with that. Besides it's a constant reminder of what I've done, a penance if you will, so that it will not fade into the background, so that I will not slip into my old ways. Similarly, I debated throwing out a picture I've carried in my wallet for years. A picture of me and a friend who I care for very dearly. Said friend no longer wants anything to do with me, which I can accept of course. A  completely reasonable response. So I technically don't have a reason to carry the photo around anymore, and yet... I cannot bring myself to do it. So I keep it, as a reminder of the things I've lost because of my actions. The people I have hurt because of my actions. What kind of stakes are on the line when I act in the world. Both of these things serve to keep me on the proverbial "right path" which is hopefully, what I 'm on, whatever that means. Whether its growth, or learning, or making amends or bettering myself or all of it.

    I've been trying to return to some feeling of normalcy, start taking better care of myself for once, and taking it seriously. Eating well, getting a nice fancy skincare routine, perfumes, makeup, a cute purse, these things are starting to make me feel like myself again. I haven't felt like myself in so long, I think it's about time Allie shows herself. My style is evolving too, its strange how my life gets all fucked up and I randomly start dressing better. The idea is; if I can treat myself better, everything follows, I will treat others better, and that's the goal here isn't it? Or is it literally just not kill myself this year?  I guess that's up to me, no reason it can't be both. With that comes less hate in these posts, I'd been dumping a lot of pent up anger and disdain here, because I was angry, because I felt betrayed, and though nobody reads them anymore save one person (who may not be reading them any longer?) that person expressed that the hate I put into these posts will just come back around to me. Karma, divine intervention, magic, whatever you call it, it's not good to dwell on those feelings anyways. I needed to express that rage, the anger, the betrayal, and in doing so; process and Leave It Behind. I cannot leave it behind if I dwell and continue to bring it up. The best I can do is wish those who I perceived as wronging me* the best (*though really they were just humans who made mistakes too).  I hope Choly becomes successful, I hope that it benefits all the members, art department included, I hope that someday I'll get a spotify notification that Choly is going on tour near me. Won't go, no I don't think so, but I hope it happens. I hope my ex boyfriend keeps up on the guitar, and continues practicing his vocals, starts his own band like he wanted. I hope that screamo band I was removed from plays a shit ton of shows and gets the recognition that they deserve, I hope all the friends I've betrayed go on to make art and do beautiful great things without me, I hope they live long fulfilling lives. I really had to fight the bitterness inside me to feel that, there was a part of me that wanted to bite back, say well why should I take advice from someone who has deemed me unworthy of their continued friendship, why should I give a single flying fuck what you think? And yet, I do. I give many flying fucks what you think, about as many as I could throw. You were always right afterall, wiser than I ever will be. You said it yourself, that I'm not a monster, and I've come to realize that now too. What I truly am is human, and to be human is to fuck up, and learn from it, and become better, and fuck up again, different this time, but learn from that too and become even better, so on and so forth till you're on you're dying bed, the best you'll ever be. I know I'll never see you again, and I probably won't hear from you on my birthday or see you at my wedding or whatever, but I hope in death we could share a beer at some dingy dive bar in the weird part of wherever we end up, and we can talk. Till then I'll miss you, thanks for being my friend for so long.

   The song for this one (back by singular demand) is Tower by Greg Freeman.

P.S. I read your blog post from april today, I forgot you even had a blog. I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend man, and yes, it is humiliating to have my friends hang out without me, but they aren't my friends anymore, they're yours now. Treat them well. They deserve someone like you. You called me shallow, and hell you're probably right, you posted that in April and I only just read it, I may be shallow, but I still care about you. I keep you with me, and now you are my reminder to do better. 

Who Am I?

     Well I haven't died yet. What else is new. Where do I go from here? what's next? Theoretically anything, but I have to want it first, not on just a primal level, that will only get me so far, but with my whole heart and soul. Currently getting my heart, soul, mind, and body to work together in any way or agree on anything feels impossible. I spent my time yearning for things lost, and people who care not for me.  Although it has been revealed to me pretty directly that some people for Whatever reason still read this bullshit. I couldn't fathom why until I talked to my therapist about it. They said it pretty plainly. Those people still care about me, they are just keeping themselves safe by keeping me at a distance. It makes sense really, I haven't given anyone a reason to reach out besides keeping me from jackson pollocking my grey matter all over the walls, what's the worth talking to me if all I do is whine and complain about circumstances I made for myself? naw I get it, and honestly I don't expect those people to reach out again. It wasn't so much an "I'm here for you" as it was an "I still want you alive." much to my own dismay. But where was I? Oh right, yearning for things lost, time wasted, etc. I've decided to try and avoid that, as well as try and take my mind off the guilt of my past.

    How? Great question! I don't know. Its a rough process, but being alone is allowing me to learn things about myself that I never cared to know. How judgemental I can be, but also selfless, how hypocritical I can be, but also how willing I am to admit it, and roll things back to see where I'm wrong. I'm learning about things I'd never thought I'd enjoy, sewing or gardening to pass the time, playing cards with mom, learning new recipes, crafting ones of my own! Learning about myself is allowing me to find parts of me I actually like, and amplify them! All this to drown out that wretched little goblin who won't quit loading I hate everything bullets into an I want to die revolver. That little voice that says I can't live with the guilt is still there, and unfortunately it's here to stay, at least according to my therapist. Guilt doesn't leave, and you can't really make it go away through any sort of coping methods. You just live with it, and hope that it makes you better in the future. My issue isn't guilt, that's normal and expected, it's always been the shame. I'm ashamed to open my mouth, I'm ashamed to keep it closed. The fact of the matter is that either way I won't be happy with myself. But by finding things I DO like about myself, it gives me fuel to fight the goblin with. One of those recent decisions has been to drum every day again. Even if its just 30 minutes, not playing songs just warm ups and shit, whatever. Just Get behind the Kit at least once everyday. If I'm going to be a miserable and unlikable cunt I had better be a Damn Good Drummer to justify it. I've started running double kick drills again, and I actually feel like I'm finally building some skill there! I've also added more difficult songs to my practice playlist, songs I thought I'd never be able  to play, and I'm happy to say that I'm making some progress with them! That feels good. Seeing my own improvement makes me feel like I can improve... other areas as well. 

    I've been trying to help others more with my time, I helped my sister move, and I might be donating some old drum gear to her new place, its a bunch of musicians and I'm not using Three fucking kick drums. Last sunday I helped out at an old family friend's house. Doing household chores and maintenance that they are simply too old to do. They insisted on paying me of course,but I also didn't fight it that much, as I continue to exist in a capitalist (post capitalist? neo capitalist? can we just say dystopian?) society that requires money, and I simply do not have enough as it stands. My name change went through okay, and I've got an appointment scheduled to change my SSC to match, then I can get a new ID and update all my other info with the IRS and such. Then I will legally have the most badass and awesome name ever! I've also been attempting to change how I speak to others a lot. It's been tough, I'm trying to use little cheats to get better at conversation, like just parroting back what someone said so they expand on it, allowing conversation to flow naturally, taking genuine interest to see if I can learn something, instead of just waiting for my turn. If only anyone actually wanted to talk to me! Oh well.

    Something else that's been on my mind recently is solitude. Perhaps my path is one walked best alone. Maybe All signs point to the fact that I'm better off when left to my own devices, I function best when I am by myself. Maybe that's the way it's meant to be. I've been running from solitude all my life, perhaps that's my problem. Maybe I need to learn to enjoy being by myself before I can be around others, maybe I'm not meant to be around others. Clearly I don't know how to act. I don't know, it's a scary thought, I don't know why it scares me though. You know that saying? Curiosity killed the cat? well it's true for Gators too. I found out that my old band is playing shows again, for whatever reason it really messed me up. I knew I was upset over it but I couldn't for the life of me pin down why. I'd like to say that I'm happy for them and that they deserve to play and that i should be happy to see the music exist with my involvement or not, I really do. That's not how I feel though. I just wish I knew why. All people would say was that I "clearly still cared" Cared about what? The people in the band? you mean the 24 year old I knew for all of maybe 5 months and the backstabbing fucker who used me for two years? Sure they were my friends, At one point Trevor was my "Best Friend" but thinking back, I never really felt like I could talk to them. I couldn't trust them with my emotions, my secrets, the troubles that plagued me. I got to hear all about their worries, but I never felt like I could open up. I truly wish them well, but I've come to realize they never crossed the line into Friends! I kept them at a distance. (more on this later!) So do I care about the music then? Sure, the drums I put my own blood, sweat, and tears into?(Literally) but they aren't using those drums anymore, is that what upsets me? No, I think it'd upset me more if they kept my drums. Maybe it's how quick the turnaround was. 3 months? kinda quick, I guess I just don't like being replaced. I don't know, I knew it would happen but I guess the spiteful bitch in me wanted the band to go down in flames. Whatever, it's stupid and petty to think like that. I hope their shows go well. I think what really bothers me, deep deep down in my guts, is the fact that they probably moved on, and here I am still thinking about this shit. They probably don't think about me fucking at all! Yet this gnaws at me like an obsession. Why am I like this? Why can't I let it go? I guess writing this is my attempt at letting go. I can't change the past. I can't undo what has been done. Sest lar vee or whatever they say in spain.

    Now about that thing I mentioned earlier. Keeping people at a distance. Why do I do that? I don't feel safe opening up to fucking anyone! Not even my ex, though I opened up to him more than most. People whom I called my friends, who considered me a close friend, I didn't trust them, or at least not enough to talk to them about how I felt. Why? I guess it hasn't gone so great for me in the past. Growing up, talking about my emotions wasn't really something I could do, I mean I could, but no one would listen. Hell I tried to off myself at age 11, that has to say something about vulnerability in the house I grew up in. I've tried to open up to lovers, that didn't go great. Been dumped because their "mental health" couldn't handle a relationship. I guess I decided that I Really had to trust someone before I could open up to them, I have such issues with considering people close friends, I don't know what it is about it that I struggle with so much. I can be friends with someone for a long ass time and still completely expect them to just, disappear one day, through one circumstance or another. Maybe That's what Portland taught me, or maybe all the moving around I've done in general. Every connection is temporary, I got too comfortable, started actually connecting with people, Bam! All gone. I mean fuck I don't think I've ever stayed in one place for longer than 4 years after moving the first time, my life has a funny way of ripping itself to shreds periodically like that, kind of hard to set down roots when that sort of thing happens. The only Longtime friend I've been actually able to maintain, who grew up with me, is in San Diego for college so I never see or hear from her. Maybe it's time for me to do that again, rip everything up and start over, move to bellingham or something like I planned, or further, or not so far, whatever. I could just get a room with a bunch of random fuckers, it don't matter, drastic change is what I need right now, maybe this would be a step in the right direction. I don't know anymore.

    I'm just so sick of feeling like this, I feel like I'm spiraling all the time, completely out of control and yet the soundest of mind I've been in three years. I feel delusional and completely logical at the same time, it makes no sense. I feel like I'm not in control of my emotions and yet so much more in touch with them than ever before, what the fuck is going on with me! I just want to feel normal again, but that's not happening any time soon. I just want it all to be over and done with, but I keep on finding new monumental ways to fuck-up and cause lasting damage to my own life and others! Everything is way too much, I'm constantly overwhelmed and I don't have time to recover because shit keeps HAPPENING! I'm stuck at a goddamn poker table getting dealt the worst damn hand every time and yet I keep staying in the game. For What!? I'm tired. Too tired for this. I'm goddamn exhausted, I don't know what happens now, I'm scared of that. Not that I've ever had a plan, what would be the point? I wasn't set up for the kind of life you plan out, anything I would have tried to do like that would have gone straight down the toilet in an instant. I'm not bright enough to go to college, couldn't even finish high school, I'm not good enough at the drums to do gigs, I work a dead-end job where they barely pay me enough to survive. What the fuck am I supposed to do, besides what I do right now. One day at a time and another day's gone. The happy times are only there to fill the gaps within the sad times, which are getting few and far between. I feel trapped, backed into a corner, everyone's turned their back on me and I deserve it. I still don't know that girl in the mirror, I can't even look her in the eyes anymore. I stare and those eyes stare back. I can't recognize myself, Who am I? and Who is that. Who are you? 

I think this proves I won't live past 50 because I'm having my midlife crisis in my goddamn 20s. Except I can't buy a new car or get a hot girlfriend or do fucking anything but wallow in my own pathetic garbage. That's what I feel inside, when I think about my past, the band, my future, my current situation? I feel fucking pathetic. If I were stronger I'd be doing the things I need to move on, or at least trying. Is this what trying feels like? I just feel like a little bitch, a pathetic sack of old rotten bones sittin on the side of the road with water splashing over me and vagrants pissing on me. Sinking in the scum of the gutter, festering in a dumpster, bubbling at the bottom of a rainwater runoff. I can't kill myself because I'm already a fucking corpse, and my continued appearance in public is weirder than just digging a hole and burying myself already. And yet every morning I rise from that coffin and pull my bones into action. My rot infecting everything I touch, I leave bloody prints and rotted flesh, my stench fills the air. I force a smile, it rips my skin and bears too much teeth. I disturb everyone I see. I just can't justify it anymore. I'm so on edge and I'm just done. I'm fucking done.

So what changes? Not much. I'll live to see tomorrow, and after that? I guess we'll see, one day at a time and another day's gone.

Toxic Shame, or Shamefully Toxic

     So of course my father came up in therapy. Honestly I didn't want to talk about him that much but, you know therapists have a way of getting it out of you. Learning that he was emotionally immature isn't a shock, but learning with it that I am also Very emotionally immature.... also wasn't a shock. Of fucking course I am, I'm a goddamn mess. The more I learn about what emotional immaturity looks like, the more I see a mirror held up in front of my face. From a very young age I had always thought there was something horribly and irreversibly wrong with me, now I know why. Of course it was the way I was raised. I'm learning that it's not unusual to feel this way when growing up with 2 immature parents. The fact of the matter is there Is something wrong with me, and it's not some sort of original sin or inherent evil lurking in my veins. No I just had a shit childhood and no good role models for ages. I continue to not have good role models even now. What even constitutes a good role model? Nobody should be idolized like that, everyone fucks up sometimes and everyone screws over others sometimes and everyone gets the short end of the stick sometimes. It is inherently human to be flawed, and to be flawed is inherently human. The hard part now is looking back at all my relationships and seeing the exact pivotal points I fucked up, and not being able to go back and fix it. That's life I guess, besides I don't need those cunts anyways. Sure maybe I didn't vocalize my boundaries well enough, and didn't communicate when I was hurt or uncomfortable well enough, but they continued to take advantage of that. That isn't right. I made mistakes, but I am WORTHY of forgiveness because I'm trying to be better everyday, and that cannot be said for those who have wronged me, not that it matters, but at least I'm trying to fix myself, and heal, and ensure I NEVER make those mistakes again.

    One of the last things a so called friend told me was that the journey I'm on is a long and lonely road, and I took that and internalized it, I thought well hell maybe I Deserve to do this by myself, but looking back now? I know better. It doesn't have to be a long and lonely road, I fucked up, sure, I guess that makes me morally reprehensible and undeserving of friendship in their eyes, but to be honest? A real friend recognizes that now would be the time I need the most support! Abandoning me now will do nothing for me in the future, maybe it's a selfish sentiment, but I'd be damned if the tables turned I'd wouldn't handle things the way they did. I know this because I have experienced it. I think back to stoney, how difficult it was to watch him flounder like that, knowing I could be in his shoes too, and then I was of course... in his proverbial shoes. But I tried to help him in the little ways I could. Unfortunately social pressures pushed me away from talking to him again, I wonder if he hates me for that. I have no way of knowing. But even he had friends to rely on. I have to rebuild from scratch, and so far it ain't going well, the few friends that stuck around? Yeah I drove em away. All I've got is my ex who does my hair, even the band I was playing with hasn't called upon me in a while. Something I have turned to is family. It's funny how I dismissed family so much, and thought I could never rely on them for anything but, au contraire, they're really pulling thru for me. My sister inviting me to go camping (even if plans fell through) and my other sister offering me space to play drums with her roommates. I helped her move yesterday, i never get to see that sister and it was nice to spend a day with her. 

    Even so, through all this, one thought plagues my mind. I still struggle with those horrible thoughts of self harm and suicide. Guilty weighs heavy on my mind like a ton of bricks suspended above me holding on by a string and at this point, it'd be easier to let the bricks crush me. What good have I brought this world anyways! I can't answer that, and at this point I think nobody can. I've done more harm than good, and it feels like I'd be better off gone. I just can't do it. And so the guilt sits over my head, building and compounding and adding to the pressure I feel. Everytime I think of my friends I want to cry. I miss them so much, and yet I know that it's not a feeling reciprocated by them, I'm almost sure they'd want me dead. That doesn't help with the ol endy lifey thoughts either. 

Yikes, well on the bright side I think I accidentally applied for a loan today??? and tomorrow I'm attending the court date to have my name legally changed. If all goes according to plan, I will legally be Allie Gator Rojas! Very exciting, so I'll make sure not to kill myself till after that at least.

    What is there left to say? I'm going through the motions of making a plant for a life that I no longer want, I spend most of my time alone or with my mother, and on the off chance I'm able to actually be around others I absolutely blow it. I feel insufferable, repulsive, and ugly (inside and out). I've got no one to turn to, if not for the therapist I've got, I'd probably have completely spiraled by now, and I can still feel the urge to do so tugging at me. I'm just so goddamn tired of this stupid charade of caring about anything, my soul is apathetic to everything nowadays. Nothing really matters anymore, and everything I could possibly do is so insignificant it's not worth doing. I've got nothing to look forward to, nobody to move in with, no possible course of action that doesn't cost a whole load of money I don't have. So here we are again, stagnation, stuck again, all I've ever been is stuck. Stuck in my old ways, stuck in the past, stuck in this cycle of guilt and self loathing. I need something different, I need help, and I'm getting help, but the help isn't helping like I hoped, honestly I feel just about as bad as before. I just know I'm worthy of forgiveness now, not that anyone wants to forgive me, or even I to forgive myself. God whats the point of even writing this stupid fucking blog anymore. Every new post is just Guilt and pain and suicidal ideation. Who's it even for? Does this really help me? I don't fucking know. I need to get a costco hot dog and try not to drive my car off a cliff.

I guess that's where this one ends? It's unsatisfying, but maybe I'll have more to say after therapy tomorrow.

Fuck.

Fall of Reptile

     There's a little worm in my head who tells me to kill myself. I call him the Mind Goblin because I think it's funny, and personifying the thought make them easier to ignore or quell. The Mind Goblin can strike at anytime, and strikes pretty constantly. I'll remember some cringe thing I did in middle school or I make some small mistake and immediately he's like "ah you should kill yourself." and I'm typically like " ahh shut the fuck up you stupid idiot goblin, what do you know?" Lately though, it's been harder to argue with the Mind Goblin, he keeps me up at night, he's in my ear all day, and he gets louder and louder. 

    "remember what you did? How can you live with yourself?" and he's right. How can I live with myself. "You have no hope, nothing keeping you here anymore" and he's right, because the state of the world these days doesn't give me much future to look forward to, and it'd be a while probably before anyone noticed I was gone besides my direct family. "What do you go on fighting for?" he says more eloquently than he's spoken in years. 

    "well Mind Goblin I've got a dog, I have a family who depends on me"

    "You can't even care for the dog, nor can you afford it, and truly all you do is burden your family. All you do is hurt the ones you care for." And he's right. For ages I haven't recognized the person I see in the mirror, but now I do, she's a monster. A twisted fucked up bitch, who hurts the ones she cares for the most because of a low personal regard. I've always known I didn't really care much about what happened to me, but I didn't realize that it translates to not really giving a shit about anyone around me. I can sort of... halfheartedly care. When it comes down to it though, she's a selfish bastard who ruins lives and makes people cry. I'm a selfish bastard who makes people cry, I'm the monster, the twisted bitch, the malice incarnate. I don't know why I'm like this, all I know is that I've loathed myself so much, for so long, and now everyone hates me just as much as I do. Who's supposed to be in my court cheering me on? Me? I can't stand the bitch. My mom? Her poor soul can't take the truth, she tries to make up excuses for what I've done, of course she does. That's what mothers do. The good news is that even if everyone does hate me now (and rightfully so) there isn't really anything they can say to me that will hurt much. Insults hurled at me have never really stung because there isn't anything folks can say to me that I haven't already said at night staring into the mirror, or heard from the mouth of my father before he beat me. No truly the only things that can hurt me are people expressing disappointment in me. That cuts deep, because I'd sell my soul to please others I hold dear, and even so I manage to upset them, make them hate me. I've never really handled disappointment well, or people leaving me behind. I'd rather let my shoes go untied than fall behind on a walk. When my boyfriend dumped me I begged him to stay, I told him I'd change everything about myself to please him, I told him that he could get back at me, to hit me, that I was sorry, that I loved him, I didn't want to beg because that's not right. It's his decision, but thought maybe I could sway it if I just said the right thing. Unfortunately I know the truth. I would try to change, I would try to please him, and I would fail. I'd slip back to my old ways, become an old bitter bitch again, and I don't want that for him. He deserves someone who isn't horrible like me, who doesn't hate themselves like me, and who wouldn't hurt him like I did.

    Here's something I tend to think about, which I don't enjoy, but I think about anyways. The definition of a narcissist is someone who hates themselves so fucking much they treat everyone else like dogwater to make themselves feel better, as well as become obsessed with themselves to make up for it, I know my father was raised by one, and he definitely had traits of narcissism. Something that Trevor, my old guitarist, used to say was that if you don't catch it in time, and you are raised by a narcissist, you can become one. Because you think it's normal, and that's just how people are. Do I take his words with a grain of salt because he also used me for 2 years and went behind my back to sleep with one of my friends ruining my relationship with him, the friend, and his relationship with his significant other? Yes, but I also think about how I was raised by a narcissist, and how much I hate myself, and how I counteract that by acting like I'm Big Dog, and King Shit of Fuck Mountain. I don't enjoy this little spiral staircase of a thought process, it concerns me. They say if you go through life meeting occasional assholes, that's normal, but if you go through life and everyone you meet is an asshole? You're the asshole. The problem is obviously with me. It seems everywhere I go and everything I do I find to be miserable. I hate it here, I hate it in Portland, I hated it in Lake Tapps. I wasn't happy out of a band, I wasn't happy in a band. I'm lonely single, and being in a relationship is seemingly too much to handle. It's like everywhere I go I'm just a miserable cunt masquerading as someone who gives half a fuck about what happens to them and the world because I'm too scared to kill myself. Before it was because I was afraid of death, now the only thing I'm afraid of is surviving. I ruin everything I touch, I go around breaking things, fucking things up, and wondering how it was possible, and who could have done this. I know why I hate myself so much, it's because I know what kind of person I am, and what kind of person I'd like to be, and they are opposites. I'm the exact type of person I claim to hate so much. I'm a hypocrite, I'm a bastard, I hurt people, I lie and cheat and ruin lives. All cause what, I don't care about myself? Like get real, shit or get off the pot. Have your dinner or your dessert but stop staring at the goddamn plate and whining about what you were served because at this point your food is moldy. Dinner is going to suck, and so will dessert, and you made the meal and you made your bed and now you must lie in it. Reap what you had so carelessly sewn or sell the fucking farm. I'm just so sick of feeling like this, I do it to myself every time, and I can't seem to stop it even when I try my hardest. I'm sick of feeling alone, and I'm sick of hating myself, and I'm sick of living with the guilt of my actions and I'm sick of trying to find the good within myself when it's so plainly not there. Who would really miss me in the long run, I've hurt so many that when they hear the news, or read my obituary, or whatever happens, they'll probably dance for joy. Ding dong the gator's dead! The small handful of people who would be sad outside of my family, hardly know who I am, save for maybe one friend I still have. Which of course I am forever thankful for, but I doubt they would stay my friend if they knew the truth about what I've done. I just can't take the guilt, it's crushing me. I can't live like this because this isn't living. Something has to change, but I know myself all too well. I know that I never really change in any way that matters. I'm still the same miserable bitch who did all those things and I will never wash my hands of it. What's the point of trying anymore? Nobody's even gonna read this stupid fucking blog anymore anyways! Because nobody cares anymore, and that's a good thing. Like I said I hurt everyone who cares for me, the only way I can keep other's safe is by keeping them at a distance, I've always known this. It's why so many of my friends used to consider me much closer than I to them. I can't let anyone in because then they'll see that monster inside, and they'll leave. I can't take anyone else leaving, so they won't be coming in. I still don't got the balls to off myself, I never have, so I deserve to live in solitude, no one but myself to torture me. It's honestly a worse punishment than death.

    So what happens now? I've gone around with these feelings in my heart and my head for so long and now they're out here and I can see how bad it really is. I'm glad they're out, but they don't go away. Is this something my therapist can fix? Is this something that will go away with a change of location? I seriously doubt it. I just feel so alone, and cold. I truly feel so worthless and unworthy of joy and the gifts that life have to offer. What do I do? I don't fuckin know. I just want to cry and cry and cry, and tear my heart out and stab a knife through it. I want to tear all the shit off my walls and burn it all and shave a straight line thru my head and rip up all my clothes and get in my truck and start driving and don't stop till I can't recognize anything around me and I don't have enough gas to get back. I can't do any of those things though, my mom would get pretty upset. So I guess I'll... keep going to therapy, play the drums in dale's weird band, go to bars by myself, make arbitrary connections that never cut deeper than the surface. Hope? I guess, hope I change, hope for something better, hope to stop feeling miserable and hope that maybe someday in a few years  I'll look back at this post and laugh and say oh how silly you were gator. If I can even make it 6 months. 

Oh how I wish someone would help me, but Only  I can help me. and I hate that bitch.

Sorry Everyone.