random is as random does


this pic has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but it’s my favorite

This has been such a peaceful day. In spite of not sleeping since Wedesday, I felt pretty good today. Chatted with some cool people online. Now I’m sitting here, listening to Judas Priest, awaiting Exish’s arrival.

I enjoy living so much more when he’s gone. When he leaves, the negativity goes with him. I can turn off the TV, open the windows and listen to the birds…I can breathe. He’ll be leaving Monday to go to a job about five hours away. That’s is SO cool with me!

He bought me a new pistola for the house. She’s a beauty. Taurus .357 magnum. I still sort of like my little ..22. It’s got a history behind it. I love it when things have a story. Inanimate objects, once used by humans to perpetrate whatever nefarious thing they choose. It’s so silly when people say that guns kill people. Well, of course they do. If some fucktwit picks one up and uses it for no good reason. Other than that, they just sit there. No, really…they do.

I’m so random tonight. Someone I met online was supposed to call and I was so nervous I had a panic attack and took an extra med to calm me down. Then a benadryl because my allergies have gone batshit crazy. Then some DayQil because the other stuff was really knocking me out. Even now, I am writing this with one eye closed, because if I don’t, I’ll see double! lol! Holy shit…Then, the guy decided he didn’t want to call me after he saw my real pic. He is the first person I’ve sent my picture to since a man calling himself Memnoch stalked me for four years, but that’s another story.

It’s weird to be rejected when you already told the person, “Look, I’m fat and I’m bossy and am not your type.” Whatever. It does stand as testament to the power of the written word and the power of fantasy/thought on human beings. But, when confronted with reality, things change. It’s much like the way we leave a book on our nightstand and go about our day. It was fun having feelings for a few hours, though. That’s normally not an issue for me. I’m at my lowest point in my entire life. I am numb as fuck. I might get angry, but there isn’t really a full range of emotion for me to draw from. It is what it is.

OMG…Exish will be home in an hour. He’s going to be pissed because the window is up and I’m here alone. Who fucking cares? I am armed to the teeth, and almost out of smokes. By all means, kick my door in. I could give a fuck.

When Exish leaves, it’s diet and exercise time. I just need some time to myself, for myself, so I can get my shit squared away. When Exish is here, he sucks the life out of me and I feel paralyzed and I don’t even try. And I don’t want him to see me try. Does that sound strange? The man looks at me like I’m his worst nightmare. He doesn’t like the sound of my voice, so I have to watch how much I talk to him. And I better damn well watch my tone. It’s too much. He’s never abused me physically or anything, but he’s taken everything that was good and happy and joyful inside of me and pissed on it. He made me hate myself enough to nearly double my body weight. Because I am the type of person that needs something external to cope. I don’t have the internal capacity to just deal with my life. I never have.

When I was 18, I was put into and eating disorder unit for six weeks because I was bullemarexic. While I was there, I got sober for the first time since I was nine. But I did great after I got out. I was an aerobics instructor, I worked out every day…worked the program. The whole nine. Then I got married. Funny how things change with that fucking ring goes on your hand.

I don’t blame anyone but myself for being how I am now. I accept full responsibility. But I do know and understand that certain people bring certain things out in me. Everyone has someone like that in their life. So…when my soul sucker leaves, I’m getting on my path again. Thirty years later.

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