nope. you think it eventually will get better, but it does not.
Good advice…
- Learn an instrument
- enjoy the HOLY FUCK out of your manic days
- Indeed, sometimes, some people really do need to fucking die.https://youtu.be/wc4XsRqXQ7w
nope. you think it eventually will get better, but it does not.
Good advice…
After four years I changed the background, the fonts, the size of the fonts, the arrangement of the pages of this blog and….eh…idk.
I’m probably gonna change it back.
Billy McMannot can be such a piss.
His stubbornness is fluent, he rarely does miss.
I thought we just met but it seems not the case.
Turns out Billy and I have been sharing same space.
Gotta give it to the lad, it took me six years to realize how glad
I would become at a boy who made me so mad the whole while just impersonating a man.
There are a few plug-ins for wordpress I want so badly to make my blog look more dope and then maybe I’ll want to write more, and believe me, y’all really do want me to write more…about my real shit…cause then you’ll be reading and then you’ll be like, “OH MY GAWD, THIS GIRL IS ME!”
No shit.
If you want to venmo me a donation I would not be opposed….in fact, I’d be dancing I’d be so happy.
sarahsue42 is my venmo name.
It is 3:48 a.m. on a weekend morning. I’m not sure if it’s Sunday or Monday but it doesn’t really matter because every day is Sunday or MOnday to me.
For the past couple of months I have been in a stupendous depression. I am not really sure what caused it but I suppose about two or three variables that could be involved.
Me and him have not spoken all week. I’m sure to hear it told to one of his buddies out of his own mouth it would sound like chinese to me. None of it would be intelligible, that is unless I spoke Mandarin or Cantonese….and you never know, one of those is on my bucket list.
I had my first sip of drink in over a week earlier this evening. I say “this evening” but I think the sip which was granted to me as a full-fledged DRINK was poured after midnight.
I ain’t drunk.
I ain’t buzzed.
Nothing.
it’s 4:10 a.m. now.
I am not mad about being ignored. I never was. I did nothing to be ignored. The only thing I did was ask my partner of 6 years some questions about some weird shit on his bank statement and he made it into a whole thing so he could ignore me, I suppose.
I turned 42 this past Monday. I have had a pretty strong feeling for several years that life is going to change at 42. My birthday is 4-2. If you google forty-two, here’s what you find: PURE BADDASSERY You’ll also find THIS.
I’ve been so depressed since Christmas I haven’t cared much for hygiene, but on my birthday, since I was being ignored anyway, I took the first selfies I’ve taken in a hundred years.
Wanna see? I’m gonna show you anyway because clearly I’m sober.
The only times I write are when I am moderately depressed and/or moderately depressed and super-drunk.
I do not write when I am happy, nor do I write when I am under water drowning depressed.
My dog is dying.
Sunlight is good but I ain’t seeing much I am rarely outside or doing anything such as hanging with friends cause I’ve lost most of them, I only talk to a few and little time do I spend outside of this camper I’m living in…I feel myself dying and I finally started crying…I didn’t cry for a while during this exile but some tears came today and I turned them away because they make my face stay in an ugly display of swollen eyes and cheeks and I get no relief from the acid rain pouring with overwhelming grief…and I hate how the grief is absorbing all of me andI hate that my blogs show only black tea which permeates my soul so frequently.I want to be happy, I want to be free of this depression so thick that my eyes cannot see anything good inside of me or in this place that I’m in and I hate going to sleep just to wake up being in the same place…I hardly ever go put makeup on my face cause there’s none to impress with all my distress…no one wants near such a fucking hot mess…and lately I wonder if I’ll ever be from under this thick dark black cloud, my burial shroud, which screams at me loud and it sounds like a crowd of monsters and demons and those of just treason without any rhyme and without any reason…I’m doing no pleasing in this horrible season which has lasted for years and stripped all my gears and made me the joke of all of my peers while they laugh and do cheers…I think many are glad to see me so sad and that makes me mad and makes me wish that I had died long before it got so damn bad.
I am down right now but it’s only temporary…
There is obviously a lesson here that needs to be learned and it’s taking so long that I’m becoming concerned…I usually learn my lessons pretty damn quick but I’m still stuck in this prison and the warden’s a dick…which made me think as I sat down to pee…maybe this lesson ain’t for me.
everything personal
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Blogging About Psychotherapy from Chicago
I lived with and was married to a female malignant narcissist for 12 years who has BPD and HPD. I endured significant trauma, gas lighting, degrading comments and was left feeling worthless. Now I'm out, living with C-PTSD and watching my kids be treated like textbook Golden Child and Scapegoat children. My daily struggle to get them the hell away from her claws. Have questions, comments, advice? Ask, tell, share. I am here to recover.
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The Boy Who Cries Wolf
I was love with a poly man who is sex addict. This blog chronicals my healing journey and other apophenia
depressive meanderings