Reflection from January 22nd, 2009
RE: Update.., Moving at the Speed of Light has now become, a *great* thing.., ;0)
I think the best thing to do when you’re desperate is to sit tight and really focus on the consequences of actions you’re planning to take. To really think about the situations you are putting yourself in. Today I just hate feeling like I’m the bullet people are dodging. I wish I could have gone into Immke fucking Honda and screamed at Matt for being such an asshole and told his clients not to buy cars from him because he’s a despicable waste of a human life. I wish I could just go fucking crazy on him and make him fucking afraid of me. For a second. I wish that for a second and then thank god I’m not that fucking crazy, albeit my natural temper for craziness. I just hate feeling like other people see me as a bullet that they’ve dodged. I don’t necessarily want them to have dodged me. I want to hurt them like they’ve hurt me. And I fucking hate that I can’t do that because then I’ll be no better than they are. At least this way I’m better than they are. I’m a better person. I’m a better lover. I’m more beautiful. I’m something worth being.
I don’t even really know what I’m saying; I’m just writing because I’m procrastinating from studying for the bar exam and because I wanted to record my bullet thought. I hate feeling like that. I hate being the kind of person people think.., “my goodness, thank god I’m not her. Thank god I’m not bipolar and thank god I don’t tell other people inappropriate things about myself. Thank god I don’t have a star of fucking David on my goddamn foot for all to see.” That’s been a real source of embarrassment lately, but more so fear. Not too far down the road there’s been vandalism in an apartment complex with people spray painting fucking swastikas all over the goddamn place. That fucking scares me — that there are people out there right down the goddamn road who are just waiting to pounce. I fear that one of them will see my star of David, get the wrong I idea and want to rape me for it. I don’t know what else to say.
I just wish I had a timeline so I could say, okay, only two years and three months left to go until my life begins to be one worth living. I mean, I guess by default I assume my life is worth meaning, but I want to know it’s worth living. I want there to be no doubt in my mind that it’s worth living.
I just wish that I’d never shared any of my personal information with anyone else except Jen (FKA “Stella” or, “Stel”) and Danielle (FKA “Gabrielle” or, “Gabby”) and maybe a little bit with my family. I wish nobody else knew anything about me because it’s so goddamn embarrassing I just loathe having to deal with it. I don’t even know what I’m saying today. I’m just flying off the hook because I can’t find my way back on to it.
I’m procrastinating. Do you know a bird shit right on my car door handle? It’s true. I have to open the door from the bottom now and eventually clean that shit up. I hate when shit like that happens. Also, when I was at that AA meeting Monday night, there were two 27 year old girls who each had two kids, one girl with two girls and one girl with two boys. And I hate that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt and all their damn children (no, not really), I don’t hate them, it’s just unfair that some people get to be happy and others do not. It’s so hard to deal with that. When others get to be happy and I don’t. I mean, there are things that make me happy like my friends and family, but I have no life, no significant other and my heart aches because it’s incomplete. I want children, a whole damn lot of them, just like the Cosby’s did. But that means I’d have to get started soon and I’m in no position to have a baby and I’d have to go to a goddamn sperm bank if I wanted to get pregnant. Ohh my mind is all of the goddamn place. It’s hard to study when it’s like this. I’m gonna try though. I’m gonna try my damndest I tell you.
I don’t know, it’s just weird because today I learned that my hair stylist is no longer working at Kennith’s Salon, and I looked up Robert Koury on the internet and he’s no longer working for the same firm he was working for before. I hope he didn’t lose his job. I doubt he did, he just probably went somewhere a little less.., well I don’t know. A little less something. It’s funny I still think of him. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had I gone along with him. I don’t think I was really attracted to him, but in other ways he was very attractive. It’s hard to explain. I think I wasn’t attracted to him because I really was, I just fear emotionally available people because I fear that if I tell them about myself then they’ll leave me because I’m not the perfect person I appear to be. I have so many “flaws”, the biggest being my bipolar condition. I don’t know, I guess I’m not all that different than normal people, I just feel a lot more often and with a lot more intensity than normal people would. In a way, come to think of it, I really enjoy sometimes being bipolar. When I swing back and forth I come up with interesting stories to tell. Being bipolar makes me different, it makes me special.
I get really angry with myself sometimes for even telling my previous social worker that I smoke pot, a lot. But what I really really wanted was to get better. I wanted to know what was wrong with me so I could fix it and not kill myself before doing so. I used to get so suicidal and depressed, it really makes me sad to think about my having had to go through all that. But it’s just so interesting that I have my experiences down in writing for someone to see. Someday I’ll meet my soul mate and they’ll want to know about me so deeply that I’ll allow them to read my journals. And they’ll learn all kinds of things about me, and we will share in the torment and depression and anxiety and mania, we’ll share it all with one another. I’ll share my all with him. Everything I have to give, I will give, to him. Ohh how I want to fall in love with the right guy. Ohh my god, how long will I have to wait? Will I ever be able to have a baby? Will I ever get to have a family of my own? Ohh how I wish for the answers to these questions. Ohh how I ache for my love, lost in this big wide world.