Turtle Butt & Serious Rants About Motherhood

I got home earlier this afternoon from a wonderful overnight road trip with my lovely Erika. She brought me to her hometown so I could be her moral support in court for the custody battle of her son. It was a fun night and day of long discussions, weed, mouths on my favorite cylindrical object, laughs, laughs about the Village People, and a turtle coming on to while talking about the neck foreskin.

Seriously. A turtle was coming on to me. A fellow and I named the turtle Johnny Foreskin, before realizing it was female, because the neck was all wrinkled and silly looking. The turtle stared at me. Maybe because I valiantly saved her from certain death on the side of the road, maybe because I'm awesome, maybe because I'm hot to turtles. Regardless, it was staring at me. When I accused her of checking me out, she nodded. So I made fun of her wrinkly turtle butt.

The main post of this post, which I was going to make wicked serious but got terribly sidetracked, is about the reason we went to Concord. Erika had to be in court with her husband to deal with the issue regarding the custody of her son. This guy was a major tool bag and I wanted to punch him almost immediately in his smug, ugly face. He was enjoying her agony way too much and tried inciting a fight to the point the bailiff had to step in. The child isn't even biologically his, he just wants to cause grief.

After all this, when we were on our four hour drive back home, the serious discussions set in. We discussed what her husband has put her through, what Mike put me through. My shitty, abusive father, the trials of being a parent. Abortion, teenage motherhood, marriage. Literally anything having to do with the court case. Erika is my age, 22, and has two children. A seven year old daughter and a seven month old son, whom the custody battle is about.

I will say this straight out. I have NOTHING against teenage mothers. I love Erika to death and she got pregnant at fourteen. I have nothing against them, it just isn't my thing. I'm not ready to be a mother. I'm not done being a child myself to think about having one. I honestly don't believe myself to be emotionally or psychologically stable enough to be a mother. I just don't see myself doing it. To add onto it, my current situation is horrible for a child. I make barely any money, I'm lucky if I get twenty hours a week. I have no health insurance, no savings, and I'm horribly single. I wouldn't have the means to even afford a pregnancy.

I'm pro-choice. I've always believed the government shouldn't be able to pass a law that tells a woman whether or not she could choose to end a pregnancy. There are situations where it's extremely, well not beneficial, but ideal. Some pregnancies are life threatening to the mother, some children live horrible, short lives, some pregnancies are a product of rape, others just don't have the means to get proper health care during the pregnancy. At this point, I would get an abortion if I happened to get pregnant while I was whoring around. I'm not at a place in my life were I would be a good parent. Then again I say that now, but who knows what I'd actually do in the situation.

With all this said, when you do have a child, I don't understand how you would abandon it. I would just say I hate dead beat fathers, but mothers do it, too. Basically, bring a life into this world, fucking take care of it. Whether you give it up for adoption, giving it a loving home, or don't fucking have a kid. Don't be one of those losers who knocks up a chick and does nothing. No contact, no support, no presence. Single parents have it too hard, don't make things worse. A child needs their parents. Own up to your mistakes, you goddamn tool.


/rant

Drunk, Me That Is OH & Bastards

Oh hi there, I didn't see you. No, I actually did, I promise. I'm just slightly buzzed and I'm pretty sure I'm actually typing with a sort of normalcy. I'm going to pretend I'm not going to ramble and completely butcher this story I'm trying to tell you. It's pretty weird. Like, really. Okay... Let's start shall we?

Okay. So I wrote a little something something about this key player just the other day. It must be like, karma or something that he would try and talk to me. And me just being like FUCKIT talking back. So the dreaded ex fiancee, because I was totes cool and got engaged in high school because I thought it was trueloveforeveryo, facebook messaged me. He even made a point to say he had no motive in talking to me, just wanted to say hi, though he did ever so subtly mention the "wife". Psh, like I need to fricken know about you and your wife. Psh, PSH. That's right, PSH. I barely made coherent sentences then, or now.

But, I flirted with a cute sentry tonight, watched a trash can be whipped out a room, and called ma'am multiple times. Silly Camp Johnson and the silly things you Marines do. OH, and a coworker totes thought I was sixteen. We were talking about the crappy night and I said I just wanted a beer. He agreed and I said I would have to pick some up on the way home because I didn't have any. He's all like, "You can buy beer?" "Um, yeah. I'm 21, almost 22." "You totally look like you're sixteen." *sigh*

I DID buy that beer, well wine cooler, on the way home and split it with Momz because I bought the BIG bottle. We drank and talked and laughed at the cats and now I'm in my room with no pants. I had to punish the cats and lock them in separate bathrooms for being hooligans and knocking things over. Momz just came and let out Dels and he was sitting on the bathmat with the biggest fuck you face ever. Seriously, totes funny. Oh Dels.

Okay. I should go before I type something stupid about how much I wish I was pantsless for a good reason, like for sexy times. But I'm not, I'm just going to go to bed. Like a lameo. Or how a new boy started tonight and his name is Lindsey and how funny I think that is. Okay. Really bed now. I promise. Or at least I promise to end this post here. =]

Repeating the Motions

This is to help you get into my mindset.

In keeping with my previous posts of substance, I'm still all lovesick without a love interest. My heart is aching to act adorable with someone. I'm not sure how to handle it, I haven't been able to deal with a strong emotion that left me so vulnerable in such a long time. I've perhaps been in real love once in the past three years, since the dreaded ex fiancee.

I feel like I've gone over this story over and over again (I have) and I feel like I'm still dealing with the end results (I am). It's my favorite evil ex story and my most intense. I blame him for most of what I've become, I've written letters I'll never send, I silently curse his name to the night sky when I'm alone and miserable. I hate him more than I've ever hated an individual somedays, while other days it's like he never existed. I gave him everything I had and all I got in return was self hatred, debt, and no college. 

I'm laying here listening to this song on repeat and I can't help but wish I had someone to direct all this aching emotion towards. I long to be in love, yet it scares me more than I'm willing to admit. I'm afraid to go back down the road of depression, self abuse, and suicidal thoughts. I know I've grown stronger since I was nineteen, but I know how easy it is to slip back and that frightens me. 

Painful Coping

I've been in one of my moods today. I'm not sure if it's still the stress of this past weekend or if I'm just having another manic moment. I was sitting on my couch today and I just couldn't relax. I was sitting cross legged, back straight, with my hands on my knees, just staring into nothingness. The only things really going through my mind weren't good ones, at all. I just kept itching to get out a knife. It's been a long time since I've gotten the urge to hurt myself and I don't really like it.

I was always a depressed kid. In eighth grade, one of my friends explained cutting to me and for some reason it just made sense. I just started cutting myself and it actually helped. Every time I was upset that year, I'd cut myself and make it better. That caused a blow out with the group of friends I had at the time. They turned me in to the counselor and almost called my mother. I spent a week in the counselor's office explaining why I felt that was the only way to deal with my stress. I stopped for a little while after that, six months a least. Then the next thing happened and I fell back into the pattern.

I had two serious relationships in high school and I always tried to hid it as long as possible. I'm not sure if the first ever knew, or if he did he didn't make too big a deal of it. I think he just tried to make sure I was happy to avoid me hurting myself. Mike, well he knew. He threatened to dump me once or twice because of it. He always considered me pretty damn emo and wouldn't be with someone who hurt themself in such a way. So I did stop, as long as I was with him. I didn't start back up again until spring semester of college. One day things became too much and I took a scalpel to my thigh. I learned a long time ago the wrist just calls attention, I went for easier spots to hide.

Since then, I've tried to fight the urge. Most times I win, but not always. I don't think most people understand the compulsion. Yes, for some people it's just a phase or a cry for attention, but that's not always the case. For me, it was something more. The compulsion isn't just something you can get over, it's something you'll always carry with you. It's the inability to get certain emotions out in a typical or healthy way so you create an outlet. Sometimes I feel a pain so deep in my chest I can't get it out, I don't know why I'm so upset. So I cut myself. I make myself hurt in a more tangible way so I can explain it easier. I know it's not healthy and I've been trying to control it since I was fourteen.

I'm not exactly sure where I was going with this post or what I was trying to explain. But there it is. You've all now become privy to something I've hid for years.

Fuuuuuuuck

Disclaimer: This post shall seem abrasive and angry. 

Get in my mindset. Nao.

I am angry.

I want one day where I'm not plagued by extreme emotions. One day where I don't want to either break down in tears or punch someone in their fucking face. I really want to bury my fist in someone's fucking face, legit. I'm getting pretty damn sick of my past coming back to fuck with me. I'm getting really fucking sick of the few times I actually fell for someone to bite me in my ass. At least the weather is agreeing with me, hello random torrential downpour of epic proportions. I never should have gotten engaged in high school like a fucking child. Because you know, it only gave him that much more power to pop up out of nowhere today to let me know he's engaged. Fuck you douchebag, like I fucking needed to know that. So lucky I'm not on Cape right now. My car would be on top of you.

Seriously, the night I turn down getting trashed. I'm being punished, I really am. I just need to go outside, sit in the thunderstorm and let my nerves calm down, because this isn't helping as much as I hoped. Angry sex, that's what I need. Where the fuck is Shane when I need him. Or any other attractive guy? Fuck this shit. 

If you don't hear back from me soon, I'm nursing a broken hand.

Ghosts of Love Past

I'm actually letting myself feel tonight. I'm listening to sad love songs and my heart aches. Aches for those I've loved in the past, the one I still love, the unrequited. I've been numbing myself with so much alcohol and meaningless physical distractions so I could pretend I don't actually feel this way. I hate feeling vulnerable and that's exactly how I feel now.

The first boy to say he loved me? Well he was my first real boyfriend, the one who didn't cheat on me every night. I was fourteen and just coming into this world. He was a month younger, but a school year higher. Silly cut offs that vary by state. It felt incredible to hear someone say those three words. I was still so unsure of myself that I was overwhelmed with happiness and acceptance. Though first loves and relationships rarely last and this flickered out just a few short months later. We still occasionally talk, but only as acquaintances.

I had three major relationships in high school. Each was increasingly more intense than the prior and each said they loved me. I was engaged to the last, but you all know that story. That relationship has haunted me for the past three years, so I guess I really did love him. Other than those three, another boy claimed to love me but that was a two day relationship. I didn't put much stock into it and I never returned the phrase, slightly unlike me.

100 Deep

Welcome to my 100th post on this little blog of mine. It's taken me almost four years but we did it. I'm not sure how much I accomplished with this but I stuck to it after some coaxing. I started off as an overly emotional teen looking for an outlet and now I'm an emotionally confused young adult trying to figure out life.

If you've ever read my few posts from 2007, you'd know I was a young girl in love that didn't understand why life never went my way. I was with my ex fiancee and so in love, but the warning sides of the crumbling relationship had begun to show. I didn't have much friends, since I wans't exactly allowed them. We fought constantly and I felt worse off with him than I would without me. There were good times, but those were rare and far between. I really wish I had stuck with this, might have helped me out a lot.

Here's some excerpts from the early days.

Mike means everything to me and I'm so happy I have him. He's the best thing I could have ever hoped for. He treats me the way only the most special girls deserve. I'm so happy he's considering going to South Carolina with me. It makes everything so much easier. And he's completely ecsatic about the fact that he now has a job and will have money on a regular basis, a good chunk too. I love him more than anything and I always will. And he claims that he will never find anyone that he loves more than me. Which, is the best thing I have ever heard.

Everything is beginning to fall apart and I no longer know what to do anymore. I feel as if I should question anything and everything that is happening but also feel like I should just cave in. Somehow everything seems to be my fault and I don't do anything. All I do is go to school, work, and hang out with Mike. But yet I'm the cause of everyone's problems. ... It just seems so hard to keep this going when all everyone does is talk about me behind my back spreading all these rumors that aren't true. I'm honestly not sure what he does and does not believe. I think the vision he had of me has changed for the worse and that I'll no longer seem worthy to him in his eyes. It feels so horrible to have no one to talk to anymore. There is no one for me to vent with and I'm forced to keep half of all this to myself. I can't exactly tell him that I feel this way. That would just make me seem insecure and helpless.

I disappeared for three years. Mainly because I forgot about this. I forgot about most anything related to my writing, it was easier that way.

I came back this past December and I've been posting pretty regularly, with the exception of my sans internet days in January. I've blogged about silly topics with the attempt to keep your attention, from zombies to serial killers. When it comes to real topics, there's been everything from loneliness to heartbreak to love. At this point in time I've been overcome with heartbreak and I'm back to the emotionally confused individual you all know and love. Emotions freak me out and I try to keep people at a distance. I blame Mike, I honestly do.

I'm paranoid, untrusting, and the slightest interest in me freaks me out. Take Coworker, we're going on a date tomorrow and I'm freaking. He's completely interested in me and I can't handle the attention. Despite the fact I'm in love with someone else that I can't be with, I just can't get my head around this situation. He's tried putting his arm around me a few times and I shy away. I just act awkward and stare at the ground. I honestly feel bad regardless of the fact I have explained to him multiple times he'll need to be patient with me. But we'll see how it all goes.

Knowing me I'll just bone his brains out and send him on his way. The physical is the only thing I have been able to handle these past few years. But this is me, I can't even begin to hide it.

This Is A Hard One

Here's another spoken word letter. It's a little hard to get out and I won't be surprised if I'm in tears by the end of this post. But it's almost 4am and I need to get something out and it might as well be the worst of my past. Here goes nothing.

It's taken me two years to get to this point, but I'm nowhere near okay. I'm tired of getting yelled at, tired of getting hurt. I hate you for ruining me. I hate you for a lot of things, but mainly that. You did ruin me, whether you think you did or not. You were my love, my life for so long, what did you think would happrn? I stopped writing for so long it hurt, mostly because every line I wrote on the page is filled with the heartbreak you caused me. I was emotionally tortured for a year. All you did was use me for sex. You said you loved me still, got in my pants, and the second it was over, so were we. No wonder I'm so fucked up in that department. You taught me the only way someone would love me was by sleeping with them. The only worthwhile part of me lays in my pants. Most of my relationships, whether they be casual or serious, revolve around sex and I blame you for that. I'm paranoid, untrusting, angry, and it's all your fault. Sometimes I wonder what made us go from happily engaged to you wanting to hurt me so badly. I was in therapy, on antidepressants, hurting myself, seriously considering ending it all. All because of what you did to me. I still cry sometimes, still think about hurting myself. The only difference now is those moments usually include some sort of alcohol to numb myself. It's getting hard to explain away the scars. My actions are getting complicated to explain away. You are so engraved in everything I do, I can't cut it out two years, hell almost three years later. I hate it. I moved five states away and still can't escape you. You like popping up every once in a while to see how I'm doing. I have a feeling it's to make sure I'm still regretting you. I'd never had a single regret in my life and you changed that. I regret you. You took the greatest love of my life, one I wanted until I grew old, and ruined it. Changed it into something so ugly that no one can recognize what it used to be. You manipulated me, tortured me, used me, made me hate so many things. I just want this to fade away. I just want you to let me go. I'm officially begging. Just let me go. 

That. Sucked.

You Sir, Are a Whore

I started writing again. When I was younger, I was a hardcore poet. I could whip out a poem a day, sometimes more, and the majority of them were actually wicked good. When I was dating the infamous bastard of all exes, I stopped. All he and his group of friends did was make fun of the emo kids and egg them on in the suicidal process. Well see, my poems were on the depressing side about 75% of the time. It was the way I worked things out. Things always seemed better when I could write down what was bothering me. But since all I heard everyday was comments about how those type of people might as well kill themselves, I stopped. I just couldn't write anything when I knew the person I loved most would just laugh if he were to ever find my notebook. I have had one or two writing periods in the last two years, but it never really lasted. I really hope this one does.

I've started back up all over the board. I have a few structured, rhymed poems, and then my favorite free verse ones. But then I have a spoken word. It's about the ex, I figured that would be a good place to start. I wrote about how I hate him for ruining me. How I'm emotionally and psychologically fucked to the point I can't have a decent relationship. I honestly blame him for the way I have turned out. He was such a whore after we broke up. He slept with half the girls he met along with stringing me along on the side. It kind of sucked hardcore. And it messed me up, I'm the first to admit it.

If I get something toegther enough, I may share it with you. Until then, so long my loves.

I Love The Way You Lie...

The most significant romantic relationship in my life lasted from February 10th 2007 to sometime in late June 2008. It became an on again off again complicated mess with ties being cut multiple times and broken promises of silence for another year. And while the relationship was never abusive, it sort of became the way in that messed up second year. No, never physical. He never hit me or land a hand on me in a hurtful manner. It was that sneakier way of abusing someone, that kind that sticks around much longer than the person. That's why, now over a year later, I'm still feeling it.

I'll take you back to the beginning. We met the summer of '05 and Mike was immediately smitten with me. Unfortunately I had a boyfriend, that was the summer I met my first real love and I couldn't be bothered with another guy. We didn't speak until the following year, around the end of my relationship with my first love. Once it was over, we started hanging out and I began to feel for him what he did for me and we started dating within the month. It seemed like the perfect relationship to me. I was with someone who had been in love with me from the time we met and absolutely adored me. We found out we had walked around each other all our lives. Our fathers knew each other, drug connections but this the early 90's, I lived next door to his grandmother, his best friend was the brother of my brother's best friend. His older sister even baby sat me a few times. To me, it seemed like fate. He became my whole life, he was my best friend, I saw him everyday. So when he proposed that summer, I said yes. I honestly believed we belonged together and we'd spend our lives together. We got in a car accident in the end of August and if I hadn't swerved he would've died. To my surprise, he stayed with me so I started my senior year of high school engaged and was happier than ever.

In Need Of Help.

Everything is beginning to fall apart and I no longer know what to do anymore. I feel as if I should question anything and everything that is happening but also feel like I should just cave in. Somehow everything seems to be my fault and I don't do anything. All I do is go to school, work, and hang out with Mike. But yet I'm the cause of everyone's problems. It's somehow my fault that everyone hates me. Half his friends hate cause I somehow changed him and turned him into the so-called "bitch". And now the person I've known the longest seems to hate me because of this. Saying how she's going to cut him off because he wasn't there for her. It seems like everyone is against me for some reason and I cannot deal with it. As I'm writing this I'm on the verge of tears because I feel like I cannot do anything right and shouldn't bother anymore. I honestly cannot wait until I graduate next year. I need to get away from Cape Cod and these ignorant people. I want to go somewhere where no one knows me and I can be who I want to be. Not constantly watching my back just in case I get blamed for something else. I already plan to cut everyone off this summer, with the exception of my boyfriend. But it seems like even he doesn't want to be around me. Lately he's seemed slightly angry and I'm not sure if it's because of me. Part of me thinks it is and I don't know what to do about that. I'm so afraid I'm going to lose him after all this and I never want that to happen. It just seems so hard to keep this going when all everyone does is talk about me behind my back spreading all these rumors that aren't true. I'm honestly not sure what he does and does not believe. I think the vision he had of me has changed for the worse and that I'll no longer seem worthy to him in his eyes. It feels so horrible to have no one to talk to anymore. There is no one for me to vent with and I'm forced to keep half of all this to myself. I can't exactly tell him that I feel this way. That would just make me seem insecure and helpless. I need to take some days to myself but I can't do that. I'd miss him too much. I think I should seriously ditch the Cape for awhile but I have no where to go. I hate this place and I cannot stand the majority of the people here. Please take me away from this place someone and help me through all this. I have no idea what to do and I'm losing it.

Beauty.

Today was so amazing. I loved every single moment of it, while except for like half an hour. I guess I'll have to start at the beginning of my wonderful day.

Reminiscing about oldie songs was great. Slightly sad that I could sing along and knew every word to the majority of them. The begin the Rollo parade throughout the rest of school with our version of the Vietcong tunnels. Bliss.

Drove Mike around for a while: Hy-Line; Jared's; Dunkin' Dounuts; Taco Bell; Christmas Tree Shop; and Dead Zone. And then he bought me the prettiest bracelet at the last location. I love it so much and it is absolutely beautiful. I love him so much.

Bad: Bobby and Austin harassing Justin yet again. Except this time they brought my mom into it, calling her a whore. Of course I had to get myself involved and talk to the two of them except they had to be around little kids so I couldn't bitch them out as I wished. Damn. But we just got back from talking with Bobby's parents, so it's slightly better.

Back to good. Mike means everything to me and I'm so happy I have him. He's the best thing I could have ever hoped for. He treats me the way only the most special girls deserve. I'm so happy he's considering going to South Carolina with me. It makes everything so much easier. And he's completely ecsatic about the fact that he now has a job and will have money on a regular basis, a good chunk too. I love him more than anything and I always will.

And he claims that he will never find anyone that he loves more than me. Which, is the best thing I have ever heard.