#if tumblr ruins the quality on these im gonna scream | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

swampgallows · 7 years

Text

i need help. i cant do anything. even in europe all i did was trail behind. i didnt book anything or research anything. i just followed along. everybody else planned everything and i just followed behind.

i dont know what will happen to me without coverage. i need to make calls but i dont know what will happen. i really need help and i really want to be able to do things without my parents. there is so much my parents dont know and that i dont feel safe telling them. there is so much i dont trust my parents with but they control everything. they dont even know i quit my job because i was going to kill myself. ir eally want to get help. and i really need to get help. and i feel like the only way i can truly do it is if im entirely removed from this environment for an extended period of time. i thought europe would be the thing to help me enough but during the last few days when i realized i was going to have to come back here i started panicking and getting sick. and since i got home my body has been rejecting even the most mild of foods (oatmeal, applesauce, eggs and toast) and i cant sleep for more than a few hours at a time, at random. and i cant focus on anything again, and i only managed to draw something for a little bit when my mom was at the hospital again.

i hate that i cant do anything alone but i feel like when im by myself i’ll disappear. but even when im with people i fall out of existence and stop being a person. i cant be here. im struggling to be here any more as a person.

i had canceled my wow subscription (i guess?) so it wouldnt charge me while i wasnt playing and i havent started it back up again yet. i opened hots but i didnt play it. i cant even play video games.

i really need help. i really need to get somewhere where i can be away from this environment and get help or im just going to sit in my bed until i die. im dissociated more than im grounded nowadays, even on the trip. if eel like unless im in a super safe and time-constrained situation (like a rave or at a restaurant?? or something) i cant be a human being. like i have to have a scripted event and i cant exist outside of it. i dont know what to do with myself unless im being perceived or something like that.

i hate writing about this stuff on tumblr but it’s making me lose my mind if i dont get it out somehow. it’s just spinning in my head and all i can do is sit here. it’s 4 in the morning and i thought about cleaning my room to do something productive while not having to be a person, per se, but it’s 4am and it would be too loud. i thought about getting in my car and driving around a little while the streets are super empty but my mom is awake and sitting by the door.

im so fucking sick of my parents knowing about every single thing i do. i cant be a person independent of them if i cant do or say anything without them knowing. and even if i put up my middle finger and say like FUCK YOU IM DOING THIS like my sister does it doesnt matter, in the end they still control everything and they still KNOW. i still have to come back to their house to go to bed, and even if im gone for days they know im gone. my sister is looking into renting a place with her shitty chaotic boyfriend (even though she swore up and down that she would NEVER move in with him) just so she doesnt have to fucking live here. AND SHE’S 29 AND I’M 27 WE SHOULDNT HAVE TO STILL LIVE WITH OUR PARENTS BUT NO ONE IN MY GENERATION CAN AFFORD TO MOVE OUT WITHOUT LIVING WITH 9 STRANGERS FOR 800 A MONTH EACH, AND THOSE NUMBERS ARE NOT EXAGGERATED

it was such a relief when i was in europe to just not check in with them at all or have to tell them anything. not even ‘hey i’m here safe!’ fuck you. i barely even posted on facebook about it except for checking in to places on swarm, and not to tell them, but just to do it, because it’s what i’d do anyway. “thanks for the update” my sister wrote, like i was supposed to tell them sooner. it’s none of their fucking business. they are not part of the equation at all. i bought the plane ticket, i paid for my share of the hotel and hostel and apartment, AND i was planning to drive myself to nate’s house until my mother fucking berated me about it and dropped me off instead (they were using my car that week anyway).

my sister is on a career path and so is my brother and im not. i havent tried learning coding again in a while. i really do not have anything to live for, im not in love with anybody and i have no dreams and i dont even want to get married really and i DEFINITELY do not want children, i still feel like a child, i feel too helpless and stupid to do anything, my art is WAY below the professional level and i couldnt even fulfill all the commissions i took, i barely even draw for myself. i dont do anythign for myself. i cant even take care of myself. im full of self-destructive impulses maybe because i feel like if it gets bad enough my parents will give a shit about me, or something, but they dont, or they cant, theyre incapable. i think about all the healing i have to do and all the trauma ive been through and how my mother takes even that away from me, using it to further her own self-flagellation about what a bad mother she is. even if i killed myself, my suicide would matter to her more as a means to further punish herself than as a loss of my life. and i know this because when i was hit by the car and didnt have the self-preservation to call for help or do anything, all she did was scream at me at the top of her lungs and then complain about what a bad mother she was that she apparently never taught us to call our parents.

i had to throw up when we were driving back to lax to drop cookies off and i thought i could make it. i puked all over myself, bad, in nate’s car, and he said, “you need to just tell me if you have to and i’ll pull over.” and i legitimately didnt even think of that. i am so accustomed to just suffering in silence and then getting punished afterward that i didnt do a solid for myself or for my friends by just giving a heads up about what was happening to me. i just let it happen and dealt with the consequences. and that thought really unnerved me. why didnt i say something? did i really think he would get mad at me for asking, for having the audacity to get sick? was i embarrassed??? well i was sure as fuck embarrassed for puking all over myself like a fucking infant, so why didnt i just say something? like who the fuck does that? i just sat there fighting it, thinking it would go away, instead of saying like “dude, can we pull over? i think im gonna throw up.” maybe i didnt want to be an inconvenience, or ruin the good time, or be needy, or draw attention to myself, or possibly make cookies late for her plane (she had more than enough time and it wouldnt have been a problem at all. pulling over for a minute wouldnt have mattered. we werent even on the freeway.) so why didn’t i even think to say something?

i was never like this. i was never somebody who didnt stand up for myself.

or was i? i dont know. i have avenged people in the past, speaking up for them when they didnt have anyone on their side, so why cant i speak up for myself? i didnt say anything when i was being molested, or raped, but i was just a child. but ive been ground down more and more to be more subservient, quieter, helpless, and the few times i try to defend myself or make a stand or speak up i end up saying a very wrong thing or being extremely rude or just embarrassing myself by saying something foolish. or i come off as aggressive.

aggression.

i have nothing so i have nothing to ground me and nothing with which to assert myself. as time goes on i feel weaker and weaker, more and more feeble and like i need permission to be alive. i cant be open with my family about nearly any of my beliefs or interests, hence why i am so fervent and adamant them in spaces that i can be (like, here, for instance, blogging until i am blue in the face about warcraft and dumb rave shit). in person i feel foolish among other wow fans, who play the game better than i do and know more about the lore than i do, and i am made to feel like an imposter (FUCK YOU spellcheck i prefer the -er) or an idiot or a “fake fan” or like “wow you dedicate so much of your life to this and you still dont know a fucking thing, what a loser, what a moron”. and i feel that way about rave shit too. hanging around other DJs and shit who know so much more about their specific areas, things im not necessarily against knowing but havent really done the research on my own, i feel like i’m nothing, too.

i dont have any worthwhile qualities and especially nothing that i’m capable of doing to a lucrative or productive degree. i have a worthless art degree, speaking of which, after 5 interminable soul-crushing years at a university that ground me in its teeth and made me feel like i belonged as a smear on the pavement. and then i almost was that after being hit by a car during what was supposed to be my final semester.

im just really not supposed to be here and i have nothing to offer. and i know nobody is “supposed” to be here but i dont even have the means to act like it or to make myself useful. i cant even be useful to myself. i cant even do the things i have an inkling of wanting to do. i just start hitting myself or crying even when i try to do the things that will make me happy. the amount of times ive been at my tables mixing away and then beating the shit out of myself at the slightest mistake and having to sit in the bath for an hour to calm down are innumerable. drawing isn’t as violent, unless im interrupted, in which case it becomes a heavy weight, like an anvil on my forehead, screaming about all the time i was wasting, and how i spent x hours on this and it still looks like shit or it’s completely pointless or “oh orcs again how fucking original you fucking cuntrag of course your favorite is the inexcusably evil and violent genocidal piece of shit character you constantly try to “fix” in your head and make excuses for because youre a broken worthless idiot addicted to abuse since being used is the only function you have in this world”

im kind of glad r/incel was banned because i was developing kind of a hate-read addiction to seeing screenshots on here. i never went to the reddit itself but being raised on that kind of mentality brought back a lot of feelings, and i was trying to train myself to just laugh at those posts, but so many people like that have ruined me in the past that i ended up feeling like i had a duty to “hear” them out. i was practically raised by men who would now be classified as “incels” and that rhetoric comprised a bulk of my understanding about sexuality, especially when my introduction to the entire concept of sex was through entitlement via rape. i thought letting myself be abused was some act of altruism, and that men wanting to possess me was something admirable and validating, especially since i was so ugly, that they in turn were being charitable by allowing themselves to be associated with me, that the least i could do was let them get some kind of pleasure out of it.

sure i didnt know any better as a child but im still fighting these feelings as an adult. i cant even navigate my own feelings about men. the pirate wants to go to bar sinister again on saturday (with smee, luckily) but i still cant feel out if it’s a date or not, and i still cant decide whether or not i’m comfortable with it being a date, since i dont know what attraction is, i dont want to hurt the guy’s feelings, and i’d like to stay friends, and i dont want to make him mad, and i dont want to lead him on either, and i DONT KNOW WHY i am basically arguing with myself as to whether or not i should ‘let this happen’, that i should just allow something to happen to me, again, because i “pursued” this man enough to let him know i wanted to get to know him better and hang with him outside of just seeing him on the bus, but i do not believe i have ever consciously pursued someone romantically IN MY LIFE (and if i did i was the last to know i was doing it). i have never had the thought “I want to date this person” because i dont fucking know what dating is, i dont know what anything is, i dont fucking know anything, i am not someone who would intentionally make a “First Move” on someone in the way of “wow i want to kiss this person so i had better get to know them better” like they do in the movies.

ultimately i guess i cannot ever imagine someone respecting me and being reciprocal with me. cannot ever imagine someone wanting to be around me for me and not because of some ulterior motive, like that theyre in love with me because of some shit emotional labor they squeezed out of me or some naive infatuation theyve conjured up in their heads about how we’re going to be married someday even if i explicitly reject them outright on several separate occasions, or how they’re so emotionally stunted that me being a cordial human being and sharing a trace of interest with them (wow youre a girl, AND you play video games? AND you have hooves?) translates into a crush because they have zero boundaries or understanding of women.

cause like, im a fucking disaster area. i dont even want to be around me. i cannot even look at myself in the mirror, my insecurity is volatile, i’m incredibly unstable and i have no self-preservation or means of independence. if you want to be dragged down in every facet possible, look no further: i am a living embodiment of trench foot. so because i deem myself having no value i dont see why anyone else could. which is why im comfortable with traces of platonic shit and why social media is perfect. it’s meaningful enough interaction to let me know that i, individually, have value, but superficial and ephemeral enough to know it’s not because anyone has any weird fucking obsession with or bias toward me. my art appears on their dash in a flash and if they like it, they like it, and that’s it. they dont gotta say shit, and it’s an entirely objective Unit of Value not based on any expected performance from me or my identity as a human being. Just, deemed worthy, and if they add their own addendum or something it’s because they’re contributing to something larger, not directly feeding into my ego/personhood.

and in turn, on my blog i can provide whatever sort of content i want without expectation and at the end of the day even if it goes unnoticed, im not doing it for any means to an end so ultimately its impact is irrelevant. like, thank fucking god. my blog doesnt provide a service to people where they expect some kind of Product, and they can opt out at any time. as long as im not going around hurting people (and obviously i would never want to do that) my blog doesnt matter, and i dont have to matter.

“you matter”. fuck off. maybe i dont want to matter. maybe im better off just being a transient, tied to nothing and no one to keep from burdening anybody or burdening myself by feeling like i have to be fucking “useful” all the time.

for how truly invisible i feel all the time, it’s ironic how much i wish i could be.

#blathering

8 notes · View notes

amuelle · 5 years

Text

The third wheel date. PART 2: The worst part…

For all the details of this back story and how I got to thinking I was in the game with this shorty please read part one ‘The third wheel date. Part 1: The Fab story’ also on this tumblr. For the purpose of keeping this post palatable let’s cut to the good part. He was leaving for work that Saturday flying out from Joburg and where does the young sex pot work?? In Joburg! So what’s a girl to do when a prime steak lands in her lap??? We pounce!!

So the last time I had seen him he was wearing this incredible t-shirt with a scene from star wars. One of my favourite movie franchises EVER. He was giving me the shirt in exchange for a black affluence shirt, he was/is all about brands made in Lesotho. (In retrospect I should have pulled the shirt off his back when he dropped me off the last night we hung out and given him NOTHING in return. But I couldn’t have known the lengths I would ultimately have to go to for this stupid fucking shirt that I now house in my closet and can’t wait to wear with thigh boots and a smile on a wicked night out). I’ve digressed enough. Don’t forget about the t-shirt…

Getting dressed:

I didn’t want to be too slutty, casual or over the top. I didn’t want to wear my wig and a ball gown to only find myself at a braai in someone’s backyard sitting on a camp chair in six inch heels. So I asked Fab what kind of vibe it is, heels or sneakers? He said sneakers and I got excited because I had just bought my first pair of Jordan’s and as with all new shoes I couldn’t wait to wear them again and again….Took a shower and had the difficult debate with myself as to how much make up to wear. I didn’t want to wear too much make up but I also didn’t want to look like I didn’t try also didn’t want to be shiny or blah…blah blah! It took a while to decide and I had to be out of the house soon. He was already waiting at the restaurant with a friend and they were having dinner. I was like damn what if he is trying to set me up with his friend? I’m all for it! I mean I’m feeling him but he is leaving so it is what it is. I mean I just missed out on diner but let me get there, he wanted to leave at 11 coz he had plans for the next day…I pack the shirt I promised. BECAUSE IM A STAND UP TYPE OF WOMAN. The last thing I wanted to do was forget it and have it look like I was trying to pull a funny chick move. I FINALLY decide what to wear after a whole look book conversation with The Trinity. I call the uber and me and the butterflies in my tummy we were off to meet our destiny!!!(JAZZ HANDS FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT)

Thoughts in the cab...

I had asked myself a lot of questions about this outing “was it a date?”…”was it a dick offer?”…”was I getting ahead of myself thinking he wants to be more than friends?”…”had he even thought about the implications of making me overly comfortable?”…”why was he pressing so hard for us to meet up before he left?”…”could it really JUST be about the tshirt?”….”WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS REALLY MEAN??” tormented by anxiety and having thought about it 365 ways I finally decided to just play by ear….what’s the worst that could happen? Honestly….what’s the worst that could happen?

THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN…HAPPENED!!!!!!

So the restaurant is on the first floor of the building and you enter through a parking lot. I was trying to come up the stairs quickly in an athletic manner without losing my breath from the climb just really having over thought it. I came up the stairs finally and through the floor to ceiling shopfront I see where he is sitting in the restaurant. But that couldn’t be him because WHY would he be with another female….WHYYYYY????? I took a few deep breaths and tried to keep this feeling of disappointment, wanting to run away, lash out, scream and cry from overwhelming me. She could be any one,(RIGHT) a cousin, sister, a stranger who saw him sitting alone…ANYONE (I wanted to put a positive spin on it but already my gut was churning. Every single butterfly in my stomach had DIED).

I walked in and there, beautiful as ever, hair done, wearing just enough make up, smelling like sunshine, happiness and black girl magic was this incredibly gorgeous woman sitting side by side with Fab. (Lets call her Lucille) I was captivated by her beauty and her energy was just WARM…..(DAMMIT!!!!). After greeting them and giving hugs I made my way around the table to sit down. Of ALL the things this evening could be, a date it certainly was NOT. It’s not even two people who know each other linking up for a drink before one goes back to work. It’s a sad reminded that you never know another person’s intentions. I had over thought this to death, had I not over thought it I wouldn’t be sitting her deeply hurt I took a whole shower, untwisted my hair and used the last drops of the last perfume my Dad bought me to be here. (Dad hasn’t bought me perfume in 3 years…the perfume was a big fucking DEAL!). To make it super-duper much much worse…he forgot the fucking t-shirt. (I was thinking “BUDDY!!! I spent a week reminding you I wanted the shirt how you gonna forget AND make me a third wheel? Brruuhh….HOOOOWWW????”)

Now crestfallen and embarrassed I had to find a way to make my I’m available but not too available outfit less hochie coochie and more Friday night with the HOMIES. I buttoned up my denim jacket and pulled down my micro mini and remembered my bruised ego meant nothing in the long term. This poor woman thought she was meeting a friend of his, not some sex pot with a shining personality. (Just to clarify, I am the sex pot with a shining personality)….it was all around AWKWARD and this was before the vodka and patron.

Still in disbelief I decided to observe their body language. It would tell me everything I needed to know. From where I was sitting it looked like his hand was on his thigh but the angle was all wrong. So I went under the table pretending to tie my shoe lace to see exactly where this hand was. The final nail in my dreams of seizing the bae….the warm, soft but hard manly hand was nestled between her thighs. (BLACK HAWK DOWN….BLACK HAWK DOWN!) The tribe had spoken and my torch was extinguished. I was NOT the ultimate survivor. I got up and dashed to the bathroom to send out a smoke signal to The Trinity, the ship had sunk and there were no survivors. I was NOT seizing the bae or getting kisses….what I was gonna get was some liquor in me on his tab! He got me fucked up!

A few big girl moments….

Now sometimes you find yourself in situations in which you are totally out of your depth. This time I was put in a situation to make another woman not feel threatened and believe in the quality of man pursuing her. Sure hours before I was thinking to myself that I had seized the bae and was about to get flewed out for vacations. This ladies and gentlemen was not the case. I was just merely the third wheel…and like a real third wheel I played my position. It was too late to throw a fit and be hurt. I was already here so I engaged in conversation, asked them about how they met (mutual friends hooked them up). I spoke about my latest thirst trap and how he was stalking me. Also asserted my FRIEND status and really tried to get her number so we could hang after Fab was gone. I was trying hard not to let a painfully awkward situation get any worse but it did…it really did. I felt like I was on fire! However the moment was here and this was how it was packaged. All I could do was suck all the enjoyment out of it and boy did I ever.(I just mean I drank...I drank A LOT)

After the first awkward ego bruising hurdle and a few quick trips to the toilet to send The Trinity voice notes proclaiming how close to death I was (because I was). I was watching the guy I had been fantasizing about all week nibble another woman’s ear and grope her. He was groping her like he just got out of jail and was seeing her for the first time in 50 years. All of this was happening between great conversation and cold, cold double vodka and limes. I remember one instance where he was biting her shoulder and looking lovingly in her eyes. I felt like I couldn't move, like I was glued to the seat but my soul was trying to run away. I was MORTIFIED. I felt like awkward 17 year old Amu watching all the other girls except me get asked to slow dance at the disco and wishing to just melt away into the background...In a few hours this man had managed to bruise my ego, ruin my first Friday night back in Joburg AND forget the tshirt, which was what even brought me there. And he had the audacity to sit there and make me watch as he got his grove back?! (NOW! He got me really fucked up...LIKE REALLY!) Fab had put Lucille and I in the most awkward situation imaginable. I needed to tighten up. If I hadn’t fainted when I saw his hand between her thighs NOTHING could kill me that night….NOTHING….I was wrong...so WRONG

We are back next week for the final installment of this epic 3 part tragedy....bisou...bisou

#Summer2018 WorstDateEver ThisIsATrueStory ItReallyHappened

0 notes