Would be great if my social media groups did not bleed into the next group. Peas, stay with the peas, and keep away from the steak. People on my LinkedIn hunt me down on other social media, and I don’t really care for that. Stay in your lane, the work lane only.
I would love to come home to you. Give you a long slow and firm hug. Heat up some soup and I'll put the tea on. Tell me about your day and then we'll go through the mail. I'll pull the sheets out of the dryer and we'll make the bed together. Hop into the shower and I'll slyly sneak in and scrub your back, wash your hair and wrap you in a fresh hot towel. Let's bundle ourselves up in each other and watch the latest show we're watching or better yet, read out loud to each other. It could be so easy. So why isn't it? Because I'm afraid of making the wrong choice. What if we waste each other's time. What if we make each other miserable? Or worse yet, what if only one of us is in love? And who is right to love? Who can I allow? Who can withstand the monstrosity of whatever disfunction I possibly possess? Can we rely on each other? I doubt it. I doubt it all. What will it take to believe such a thing is possible. What did it take for any of you to be willing to take that step?
I am enjoying the fall the world is taking. My life has had many falls because of the people on this planet. It's now enjoyable for me to see others in distress.
My dad is 85 and bought another used car today. About a decade ago, he sat down and tried to count how many cars he's owned since the age of 15, the age you could legally drive in Saskatchewan. The count was 300 plus, a that was a decade ago. Buying a car is like going to the casino, the house almost always wins or less you have some special collectable, which father has never had. The house being the dealer selling you the vehicle since you're taking a loss on your trade in. The car is a year or two older and has higher mileage, so he loses a couple of thousand or more on every trade. He's lost a couple of thousand, in today's dollars for 70 years! I can't imagine if he just bought a car a drove it into the ground and replaced it when he needed to the amount of money that could have been saved and invested over the course of 70 years and the retirement he and mother could have had, never mind his carbon footprint.
Is my dad sick or is he the bi-product of a sick and twisted culture? The fixation or fetishization of stupid sh#t apears to be pretty normal in this pathetic culture. It's not uncommon for people in this country to shake their heads in disgust at some other nation that's a mess or feel sorry for its people. Is what we're doing here really that much better? It's pretty warped if you take a step back and really look at it. Working to buy sh#t. What a waste of life and the planets resources. I feel sick and heartbroken today.
Every night. For years. Maybe a decade now. I lay awake unable to stop thinking about a relationship that should have worked. Should have happened. Why didn't it happen? Why the fuck didn't it happen? Then I drag myself out of bed, groggy and tired, snap my fingers and it's night again, on infinite loop.
That’s the whole confession. I’m sure there are reasons for this, obscure psychological themes, social conditioning and whatnot. But it’s not a confession I’ve seen here before and it happens to be mine.
I confess that I’ve struggled with suicidal thoughts at some extremely difficult times in my long life. I have C-PTSD and it’s a constant battle to maintain my happiness and keep moving forward in spite of feeling worthless much of the time. I’ve conquered so many challenges, but this latest one just has me feeling like there’s no longer any point. I used to say that I’d never do it because I loved my family so much that I’d never want to hurt them like that. But now, I no longer have them and I’m just wondering what’s stopping me now. It just feels pointless to keep pretending and battling when there’s no one left to protect.
whenever i relax and just "chat" my husband has to pick up on something i say wrong. i'm not perfect, i may get a name wrong, pronounce it incorrectly or get a number or date wrong and he just POUNCES. "you're wrong!" like it's some kind of badge of honour for him. i don't love him as much as i could because of this very trait he has. so there. ahole.
of my life to look after me to pamper me and read my mind kindly
I had a lot of odds against me growing up. Somehow managed to be somewhat successful, depending on how you define that. Finally at 28, I can say I’ve managed to build a life I’m proud of. I also didn’t turn out to be an addict - but even if I did, it really wouldn’t be that surprising considering what I’ve experienced - and I didn’t let the abuse I went through ruin the rest of my life. But, it can feel “strange” not feeling like I’m going to be punished. That I’m blessed and taken care of. I’m not used to this new life. And I’m just going to be ok with that. One day I’ll write a book because we all do have so much in common. Keep going, it’s a journey. Enjoy it.