Untitled – 07202010

I believe that my fate
is to never escape
This cluttered, discolored landscape

swelling
growing
ready to burst

again you show your very worst

And it’s twisting
….burning
…always churning
moving forward, never learning

Matters not that my feet were set in motion
with determinant linear devotion
‘Cause the ground keeps shifting and changing terrain
And nothing ever stays the same

I know that it shifts, but I’m ill-equipped
to alter my course through power of force
I could plan for a detour to soften my path
And maybe spare my own blistering wrath

But no.

I plan to walk straight every day
But it never seems to work out that way
Intent don’t represent the end result
And I only have myself to fault

Queermo.

I seriously hope I won’t regret never experiencing a girl.  I love him so much, but I can’t help but wonder.  Sometimes I think I’m more queer than I let on to myself.

Just once.

I want to fuck a girl.

goddamnit

I’ll suck it up.  I love him enough that I can live with never knowing.   I really do love him, more than I can even understand <333  But sometimes it nags at me so much.  What if I’m really gay?  Sometimes I think I am.  I swear, straight porn doesn’t even turn me on most of the time.  Lesbians?  Youuuubetcha.

Maybe the whole medicine-kills-my-sex-drive thing is making it worse.  Half the time I don’t want to have sex.   Maybe my recent aversion to penis has a lot to do with that.  I mean, I’ll still fuck him 9/10; I get to be close to him, and who doesn’t like an orgasm?  That is, if I can ever have a good one again….   stupid fucking meds.

He cares about me so much.  I’m so lucky to have him.  He’s my everything and I will NEVER in a million years do a single thing to hurt him.  Just for the record.    Him = <3

Could I love a man this much if I was really gay?   ……probably.
Will I ever love another as much as I love him?     …….I don’t see how.   I think he’s my “soulmate”.   We never fight, we never argue, we never have any negativity between us.

But I know that would change if we lived together.

How much it would change is the question.  And there’s no way of knowing until I do it.  Which won’t be for a few years, because first I have to make it on my own.  I’m not ready to live with him by any means right now anyway.

Why couldn’t I just be straight?

Update

Felt good the past couple weeks.  Now everything is turning shitty.   I know I’ll lose him.  I’m too much of a loser.

Whatever

Felt good a couple days ago.  Had a breakdown the morning before last.  Migraine and all.  Couldn’t handle the stress.

When normal people fail, their brains say “Shame on you, you didn’t prepare enough!”, etc.  Mine tells me I deserve to die.

Feel irritated today.  Wish I had a valium prescription.  My heart feels quivery.

Those bitches at the CFC intake won’t call me back.  Or pick up their phones.  I make a fucking effort to find a therapist, and no one cares.

Update

Been mostly UP the past two days.  Not positive up, but wired up.  Still moments of the rollercoaster though.  mood swings.  Ugh.

Today I almost feel productive.

Then again, it’s not even 4:00 yet.  

If you try to soothe the beast, does that mean you are catering to its whims?

Well, golly.

I lied.  I’m still awake.

And I think I have an eating disorder.  And not the “cool” kind where you at least look attractive in your fucked-up-edness.

I’m afraid to go to bed.  I defy it.  I hate it.  I love it.  I’m fucking aspoeirna;asod0aw43.  Could be worse.  At least I don’t hear tEh VoiCeZ.

I just want to scream and flail my arms and do wacky things.  Not go to bed.  Not sleep. Not stop.  Not breathe.  Just go go go go go go go go go!

My eyes feel kind of heavy though.

Heaaaaavy.

Fuck.

I am AWAKE!

Almost 5am.

Going to go lay down

Argh!!

[Band name deleted for privacy reasons] FRIDAY!

So I’ll reiterate…

Since somehow my long, gushing post was deleted, I’ll reiterate something I had typed in it because…well, I want to.

Having this sickness….it’s like you don’t ever even have the chance to start off the day on the right foot. You don’t even get feet. Nature has removed your feet and replaced them with wheels, only the wheels are facing the wrong direction, and any attempt to get anywhere in life is fraught with frustration. And then, one day, when you finally get the hang of moving around on these crooked wheels, and you can finally get around without constantly falling down, nature decides it’s going to go and reposition them so that you’re once again right back where you started– awkward, frustrated, and broken.

I can never win.

WHAT THE HELL

I wrote a very long post and now it’s gone forever. I didn’t delete it, and I saw it published on my goddamned blog 5 minutes ago, but now it’s gone and only the stupid boyfriend post is there. Which doesn’t even make sense without the post before it. GODFUCKINGDAMNIT.

Even the internet hates me.

…And then there’s the boyfriend

He knows I battle depression, but doesn’t know it’s actually bipolar disorder.  Who knows, maybe even BPD…

I want to tell him, but I can’t.   I need to tell him, but I can’t.

If we end up living together, and I’m so fucked up that I can’t handle a job, it effects him.  When I go from being a voracious pervert to being nauseated at the idea of sex, it effects him.  I can’t tell him.   I don’t know how.

I need to find a therapist.  I can’t even afford the sliding scale docs because it’s $20/visit, which adds up to at least $100/month.  I don’t have a job.   I don’t have a reason to be.

Did I mention I need to find a therapist?  Because I really fucking do. 

I’m a goddamned WIMP.