Theatre of Cruelty

We only emailed briefly about the possibility of his attending JCon last summer, so I'm fairly certain Rusty's not talking about me when he writes:

"If anyone in your life isn't making your life better or having their life made better by your help, they should drop like a box of doorknobs back into whatever steaming pile of non-achievement they have created for themselves. Seriously. I understand human compassion (and am told I was even capable of it at one time), but you have to draw the line somewhere. If you don’t, there is a 100% chance that you will end up like them. Keeping them around so you can observe their lives like some kind of industrial disaster is okay, though. Just keep a safe distance.

So everybody think right now to that one person who has caused you nothing but inconvenience and/or pain. Now call or e-mail him or her and tell him or her that you will no longer be needing them to suck your soul dry. You'll be much happier."


It doesn't mean he isn't talking about me, it just isn't personal. And I realize he's just counseling those in this world who have actual worth. However, I've been through his latest entry about four times and I always seem to finish reading it with a lump in my throat because I've identified 100% with the dumpee.

I'm wondering if anyone I know reads him and if they do I can expect a flood of 'hasta!' emails before the end of the day. And I really wouldn't blame a single one of them. The vastness of the suckage of my life astounds even me these days and I don't say that looking for sympathy, honestly. I don't deserve sympathy and I don't want pity; I need help. Probably psychological help. The funny thing is I can't afford to have some shrink toss me a mental life preserver and once I find someone fool enough to hire me and give me back a shred of self-respect I won't have need of a rescue. Fuck, how did I end up here?

I'm a good person. I want to be useful. I want to be your buddy. I strive to make a good impression and be appropriate in social situations. I will support and defend a true friend to my last breath. I just need to do something, to achieve. No one answers my calls or gives my resume a second look and that scares me. The little room at the pit of my stomach where I cram all the doubt and insecurity is stuffed so full I can no longer shut the door and hide it away. One day soon it will burst open and rain torture, pain and chaos down on this house and those who know me.

This loser is not me.

Inspirational Cheese

Life isn't about how many times you fall down,
it's about how many times you get back up.

Funny how these sayings aren't as much of a comfort when you're laid out, bloodied and face down on the floor.

I realize I'm being Melancholy Meg and for that I apologize. I'm counting the days until one. good. thing. in this life happens to me to dilute the vitriol with which I seem to be filled. Just one thing would mean worlds to me because trust me, your level of hating this is far less than mine; I have to live with it.

Coleen once told me that it's very wrong to stop writing because you don't think you have anything of value to say. She suggested writing about anything once each day, even if it's nothing of any import. I'm trying to psyche myself up to do so, but it's more difficult than I expected. Once I figure something out I'll get going on the rainbows and unicorns, promise.

Until then, I just need to vent. Bear with me, lovely people.

Quiet Desperation

I’ve seen that look before. I see it in your eyes.
I’ve seen that look before. You’ve lost control of your life,
Control of your life.

Isolation, desperation, regulation, intimidation,
Despite all the subjugation,
Doesn’t matter what they say cause I won’t listen anyway

I sit back and laugh. See, I told you so.
You followed too many rules. Now there’s no place to go,
No place to go.

--Naked Aggression

I feel like I've fenced myself in to this dead end with wrong move after wrong move. I can't find the Reset button. I can't find a way out. I can't see the light.

Deep down the reasonable part of me knows the wheel never stops turning; it's just such a long goddamn rotation, I don't know how to hold on anymore.

Failure times six

The call came yesterday, around 2:40 p.m.; not one of the three transferred eight-cell eggs had latched on and I was most certainly not pregnant.

I'm already past disappointed and have moved right on into fierce anger at my body and its inability to do anything right. Anything! I can't find a job, have a child or live my life in any way that seems worthwhile. I'm an utter fuck-up. And everything I try to do to rectify the situation only acts as fuel on the fire.

Hurry up and wait

Yesterday was the first time this year I've spent almost the entire day with the windows open. Good, because it shoos all the musty, dusty winter air out and ushers in clean, unadulterated spring breezes. 'Orrible, because Murphy feels compelled to bark like an eediot at every. goddamn. noise. I appreciate his need to guard the house and its inhabitants but for the love of Pete, his bark shakes the foundation! I do sort of laugh at the snotty college kids who live down the road and who have misinterpreted our lawn as the local landfill; they hear his hefty woof! and actually look scared. Serves them right for poaching my wireless connection. Probably. Bastids.

Mom popped by yesterday with steak and strawberry-rhubarb pie to make up for the birthday dinner we missed on Sunday because of me. I've been having some troubles in my, um, plumbing area and everyone agreed it was best if I stayed camped out on the chesterfield with ginger ale and the 1,000-degree Magic Bag nestled along my knotted shoulders. Hence, the missing out of my BIL's birthday celebration (you're older than me again! Phhbt!) I probably couldn't have choked down Steak Oscar, crispy potatoes, fresh yellow beans and said pie but I would have enjoyed watching everyone else partake. So, just for The Boy, I made crispy potatoes and salad to go with the steak. I was able to eat most everything and felt moderately acceptable watching Corner Gas before snuggling in and falling soundly asleep on the couch. The rest of the night was a washout because of the insane dreams my mind insists on showing me. To tell you about them would only scare you so I'll keep them to myself.

I need wishers on full force and good vibes a-plenty about the blood test results I expect to receive early this afternoon please. Pretty please.