Real Deal

Fuckin’ Hell.  I’m over it.  My new issue of Real Simple came and it said something like:  “The year devoted to you”.  Yeah.  It’s high time I made amends to myself, quit apologizing for my journey and existence, stop making an ass of myself, and groveling for affection.  Or, trying to get affection from people who see me as an option instead of a muthafunkin priority.  Which, this year?  Starting today?  I am.

Was at my therapists last night.  We’re exploring negative self esteem and the negative core beliefs that I operate from…Holy Fuck!  No wonder!  Jesus.  A little time out for Zuzu, goes a long fucking way.  I mean, I’m sneaking out tomorrow about three to go see Spectre and then Star Wars.  Yes, I pre-ordered my ticket.  But, I’m going to be in fantasy land, phone turned off for, like 8 hours.  Crazy!  When I was a kid, I used to escape my reality by reading.  I told my therapist:  I am super uncomfortable reading.  I feel as if I should be doing something.  Fuck!  I’ve turned into a human doing instead of a human being.  Suck ass.  For realz, yo.  I mean, I have books coming out my ears- like the Roman Empire’s library.  I’ve read 10% of them because I feel so guilty taking time out for me.  I mean, wow.  Super unhealthy.  I don’t even have kids.  I do, down to 10 parts, a lot of them littles, and I’m just like, totally overwhelmed.

December 1, 2015 was (and is, every year) World AIDS Day.  I asked my mom if she would like to go to a celebration/remembrance for WAD.  No.  Okay, why?  I had just, finally, viewed Dallas Buyers Club, and I was all jazzed, and she says, “No.  I will never support you in anything HIV/AIDS related.”  Okay, so when I die from shit from my HIV, like, I don’t know, Cancer, you wouldn’t take me to chemo?  She’s all I would’ve made a different choice, and it wasn’t my choice to make and I’m just not there yet.  All like five hours before the WAD ceremony.  Okay.  If I had known he was a lying fucking sociopath, dontcha think I would’ve pulled an Iron Maiden and Run to the Hills?  Woulda, coulda, shoulda, doesn’t really do me a whole lot of good right now.  One thing about my mom- I know where I fucking stand.  So, whatever…

January 4th, I start my Improv class and the 6th is volunteer orientation for HIV/AIDS organization here in town.  I’ll perform, make people laugh, hone a craft I adore, and then reach out and impact others.  Yes, Dave passing helped tremendously.  I feel a helluva lot more free.  Will there be romance in 2016?  I think so.  It’s way over due.  And it’s romance, not bullshit.

Speaking of bullshit, I found out that my first love, that I made amends to a million years ago, is married, was married, has someone.  Awesome.  The piece of shit has NEVER acknowledged he received the amends letter.  No, I’m married.  No, lose my everything.  Nothing.  Just, typical, you ripped my heart out, abandoned me, I’m going to humiliate you.  Kissed his friend in high school- way after we had broken up for the second time?  Walks behind me and says just loud enough for me to hear, “Whore”.  What about your fucking soul brother?  He’s just as fucking guilty.  But, no, fuck you too, ass wipe.

This is why I’m being 100% totally selfish and spoiling the fuck out of myself in 2016.  It starts now.  Went to my HIV case manager.  Made arrangements.  Bought myself some healing crystals and a Star Wars ticket;  Going to see my shrink.  Fuck all y’all.  I’ve been killing myself trying to be all things to all people and make everyone else happy before me.  Well, that fucking never works.  I understand, eat, pray, love now.  Walked into the crystal shop, sign in the breezeway- “eat, pray, love”.  Got it.  Done fucking deal.  I’ve never really acted like the only child I am, but fuck you, now?  Game on.  It’s all about me.

I saw someone speak about their experience, strength and hope a couple of weeks ago.  She remarked when she first sobered up, she didn’t even know what her favourite colour was.  Well, I don’t know what I like to do and how I like to treat and be treated.  I know, for a motherfucking fact, not being my authentic self, and putting everyone and everything and all their shit before my own?  I’m a fucking angry, bitter mess.  But I’m HALTing it.  Before I go off or some shit.  You know what?  I don’t exist to you?  Sweet, now I know where I stand and I don’t have to try to prove myself and sell you on the idea of me because my self esteem is so fucking low.  I think of myself as an ends to a means.  Not a means to an end.  I’m the problem, but I’m also the solution.  So, watch out bitches.

I lost Don, Dave and a few other people.  Some through my HP’s will, some through my own will.  Some just cause.  Maybe, I actually outgrew them, or saw their fucking horseshit games, and said, “enough”.  No wonder I relapsed.  I was living on empty, shallow, surviving instead of thriving.  I bought myself a necklace.  An old therapist said I needed a Badge of Honor.  The necklace is a semi colon necklace.  “All warr;ors have scars”.  Fucking a we do.  And you know what?  If you tip toed through my mental tulips, you’d freak the fuck out.  I’m fucked up.  If you had been and seen and lived through what I have- it’s a fucking MIRACLE I’m not nonverbal.  So stop pushing for more than I can give.  When I set my boundary and say, “enough”?  I mean that shit.  And fuck boy first love assholemonger?  As Don would’ve said, “Put that sonofabitch on extinction.”  And you know what?  My degree is in Sociology, not Anthropology.  Extinction, not excavation.

The only fucking thing I will be excavating in 2016, is my soul, heart, and mind.  My spirit was shmushed.  Just extinguished due to too many high winds and not enough fuel.

So, put your own fucking O2 mask on first- no fucking bullshit analogy there.  Cuz if you can’t breathe, you’re fucking dying, little by little.  Last time I checked, dead people couldn’t help nobody.  Even, obviously, their damn selves.  So breathe, mother fuckers, breathe. I know I am.

 

 

 

 

 

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