Despicable Me

I am legitimately shocked and awed by how fucking awful this feels. I am living alone. I am alone and eating ramen. Depressed as hell. Be careful what you fucking wish for. It’s only Tuesday. I have only been alone since Sunday morning. Regardless, I have cried every day, starting that morning around 6:20am. I’m finally mourning. Doubly mourning. I know I have to go through this to get to the other side. Like the chicken I’ve been feeling like at work lately. The one without a head. There is so much I want to say. So much I feel I have to hide. I’m tired of hiding.  

Small details: I had planned on going to the gym after work. Instead, I made a conscious decision to allow myself to fall deeper into this sadness. I made a conscious decision to buy a bottle of Irish whiskey (it makes me feel connected to so many things). I made a conscious decision to not make real food. I say I don’t care but it’s because I do care so much that everything weighs on me so heavily. So heavily that bottle follows bottle in a futile effort to stop the pain and disappointment that I feel. Being aware of what I’m doing makes it that much more painful.

So many things are going through my head right now. Thoughts and feelings. Especially “STOP!” But not a positive stop. It’s “stop writing, stop thinking, go to the couch and turn on the tv, forget all this.” But that doesn’t stop it, only delays.

“I don’t know” and “I’m so sorry.” The two most common refrains I hear come out of my mouth or that run through my head. I wish I could say “Yes,” and “I love you” and “Help me.” “Please.” And that I could accept help. And love. It’s enough to make me turn to Jesus, I swear.

I wish I could be less stubborn. Open and gracious and forgiving instead of glancing sideways at everyone and everything offered. Yet still being taken advantage of. That I could work with instead of against. You and me.

There are so many truths about me that I find disturbing. Truths that I have trouble voicing. Truths that make me despicable. Using and abusing. I realized not long after I moved out that I am not necessarily a “good” person. I do what I need to do to survive. Yet people still call me a saint. People still want to help me. People think I am good. It’s not goodness, it’s self-preservation and idiocy. Being who I need to be to get by. Denying myself, hiding myself. Fronting.

That’s all bullshit, that last paragraph. I victimize myself and blame others for making me unhappy. Because I am unhappy and I’m too chicken-shit to do anything about it.

You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone.

I don’t deserve all the chances people give me. Yet I do. Because I care so much. Because I’ve been hurt so much. By other people who were hurt before me. And it goes on and on. The legacy of hurt. 

Fuck. How did I end up here?

Fear. Fear that I’ve lost another friend. Because of my fear. Because of second-guesses and outside pressure. (Incompatibility and desperation? Insecurity?)

Why can’t I just sit with myself? Why am I so afraid of myself? Because I know how despicable I am? God, that’s depressing. Because I know how much I hurt. I know how much pain is inside of me. And how much rage and anger. And that does scare me. It makes me of absolutely no use to anyone.

So here I am. Finally alone. And scared to death of what I’ll discover. Yet I know I am searching for something in others that I can only find in myself and I’m no good to anyone until I find it.



But do not ask the price I paid,
I must live with my quiet rage,
Tame the ghosts in my head,
That run wild and wish me dead.
Should you shake my ash to the wind
Lord, forget all of my sins
Or let me die where I lie
Neath the curse of my lover's eyes.

And I'll walk slow, I'll walk slow
Take my hand, help me on my way.
And I'll walk slow, I'll walk slow
Take my hand, I'll be on my way.

Interpretation, or, Go Fuck Yourself

I had one of those dreams last night.

I often have dreams where I am trapped, unable to find my way out of a building or location and that's what was going on last night. All the windows were old and either wouldn't open or were too small but most importantly all of them were just too high to jump from. I was in Cecil County and Chris was with me and one other person who wasn't really identifiable. We all climbed this hill and got inside the building but for some reason it was just me who ended up being what I can only describe as an indentured servant to the people living there, this woman and her elderly mother. What I was doing isn't important. It involved making sure tour groups got up and down the hill safely, there was a railroad trestle and water... Anyway, I ended up alone and I didn't want to be there, I didn't want to be doing this job, but I couldn't escape. Inside the building where these two women lived it was like an episode of Hoarders but every once in a while I'd get a glimpse of this pristine bedroom and bathroom which were somehow off limits to me and I knew I'd get in trouble if I were caught in there. Eventually I escaped, but I don't remember how, and I found Chris and the mystery person again.

But here's the fucked up part: This all happened in one day. And the next day I went back to do it all over again.

Witness my insanity.

How fast can you run?

Shit is just fucked. Nothing has... I feel like I have no control over anything. I moved out because I needed space, because I wanted to be alone... But nothing has worked out like I'd hoped or planned. And I am so angry I can't stand it and I don't see a way out. And it's my own fucking fault. For being such an idiot, for believing in someone, for trusting someone. When I should have known. I should have known. I wasn't and am not in the right space for this to be happening. I feel used and taken advantage of. And so, so angry. I just want what I wanted: To be alone. To work through things. To have my own space. To fucking watch tv as loud as I want. Alone. 

XO... Jen

It's cold out here. Cold, okay? I'm thinking about my Mellow Yellow fingernails and my Air blue toenails while sitting on the deck with the tiki torches lit and drinking Golden Monkey and chain smoking.

Babies, I've seen a new therapist for two sessions. Babies, I've been reading xoJane like it's my new Jezebel because it is. Cat's back. No, I'm not going to start one of my "I don't understand the ladies" rants... as easy as that might be.

What was I going to start? (Are you my lady doctor, "my lady"?) I had the horrible realization today, while talking with her, that I've been here before. I think she likes me, for the usual reasons: I'm smart, I get it... But I don't. That's why I'm there. I know. But I don't. It's the same old song and dance. Me me me me me. The same me from 2005. The same me from 1999. The same me who knows what to do but is too afraid to do it.

I was sitting there today thinking, "HELP ME", knowing the whole time that only I can help myself. So I listed off my 4 main reasons for being there and she said something like, "well, you're here to make yourself stronger, so you can make these changes." We've talked about all 4 of my issues in two 50-minute sessions. Now what?

Stare off into space.

That's how I talk about important things. Staring off into space.

"Does [this happen]?"
"... No ..."
"Does [that happen]?"
"... No ... Eh. No. Not really."

Hmm. I get the feeling she wants drama. I tend to downplay things. Yet dream the drama.

"Yes."
"No."
"Yes!"
"No!"

It's not that.

Two nights a week. "Two."

"Do you think you could commit to only [doing this thing] twice a week?"
"I could..."
"Will you?"
"I will."

Knowing I was lying the whole time.

"We should keep you broke."
"Ha, ha... ha."

"You should write about it." Journaling she said. Fuck me. I do. And it's always the same thing, over and over again.
"Bring it," she said.

She just found the key to my heart.

Oh, I will. I will bring it, sister.

Panic Button

I'm having one of my "going quiet" episodes brought on by an impending job search. Or at least I think that's what it is.

I've been trying to write everyday on my lunch break and it feels like each day I have less and less to say. Or I'm just repeating the same things over and over again. Yesterday there was this: "I know. I'm totally blank. Because I should be doing at this point. Not thinking."

But it's the idea of "doing" that triggers the panic. (We could get into some deep psychological shit if I were to start unpacking that sentence.) And then I mentally (and physically) shut down and I'm just "no, no, no, no, no. I'm going to stay here where it's safe. Here inside myself, inside my head, here inside this apartment, inside this windowless office at work. It's okay here. It's not so bad." When really I want to scream and break things. And escape.

Forgive me for what I'm about to do here, I know he can be hard to take. I may have mentioned... no, actually I don't think I ever finished writing that, about how much I identify with Kanye West. I think it's still a draft. Anyway. It probably won't be clear to you but I have a special affinity for this song. We're both assholes.

Last night I just sat on the couch, watching TV, not even looking for anyone to talk to online. "No, no, no, no, no." The Killing, Mad Men, Drag Race. All the while eating the candy and drinking the sweet, sweet Coca-Cola I bought at Target after work. Thinking, fuck it. All the while wishing I was fucking drunk. Then I went to bed.

It's always the same. I know I just have to give it time. I'll come out of it. When it has to be done I'll do it. Sometimes it's just nice to succumb to the desire to hide and eat like an asshole, even knowing the whole time that you're only hurting yourself. Because you feel like you deserve it. And I know how to hurt myself best.

God. Even writing this is making me anxious. I've got that weak, shaky feeling you get. Do you know that one? Just from writing. And my hands are all sweaty. I'm a god damn mess.

But I'll come out of it. 

Oh, Little Girl, Pick Up the Pieces...

You learn to live without...

I have only just begun to drink so this is going to get much more pathetic as the night goes on. This song is destroying me right now:

I always think, "this time it will be different". It's never different and it always hurts. I wouldn't let myself cry yesterday but things are different tonight. I didn't think there would be much to mourn considering the circumstances but that's exactly what I'm doing. I've reached the second stage of grief. Anger. Actually, I went there first because there's never any reason to deny what's happening when it happens and I'm always so quick to walk away. And it's not like anyone ever regrets that I do.

This wasn't supposed to be a pity party but I think that's what I need right now. He said, "don't take it all on yourself," but how can I not? I know how I am. But he's right and you can't control what other people think about you. You do your best and that's all you can do. So no matter how much you want something maybe the other person doesn't want it as much. And no one's to blame for that.

Housewife Auditions

Teen Sex/Pregnancy is totally natural. Srsly. Think about it. Humans were made to reproduce soon after puberty and they were meant to be dead around 40. We have not evolved so much physically as we have in other ways. This explains a lot of issues, obesity, teen pregnancy, even mid-life crises. Because we aren't supposed to be that old! 
Our bodies go into survival mode because of our "diet mentality" and therefore hold onto fat as a defense mechanism, awaiting the next (mostly imaginary) famine. 


So. Those are some notes I found here that I apparently wrote a few days ago. I don't remember where I was going with either thought. Okay. That's a lie, I just don't feel like going on with them.

It's one of those days where I want to cry about everything and feel sorry for myself. Yeah, I have those days a lot. I think I need a non-traditional job. I think I want to be an organic farmer. Last week I wanted to be a book editor but NOT in New York cos I don't think you can afford to live there even if you have that job.

I need a career! I can't keep living like this! I wanted to be a nurse the week before but now it just seems like too much work to get there and then once you're there the hours are shitty. And I already owe like $90,000 in student loans. That is NOT an exaggeration. I end up owing $90,000 for what? So I can temp for the rest of my life? I know that I am never going to make a lot of money, probably never own a house, always be sad...

Gah. and meh. I don't want to be on TV but I might like working in TV. I want to write but I don't like to write on demand.

(One of the big HR people is in the office next door to me right now and I'm having a hard time restraining myself. I want to do terrible things to him as a symbol of my anger and frustration.)

I wish the economy and civilization would collapse. Maybe then I'd have a chance to be something/somebody. I don't know what that even means. I think I actually mean that I wish the economy and civilization would collapse so I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

My head is so screwed up with weird expectations of what's supposed to be. I wish I was a stupid person, I don't think these things would bother me as much if I were.

Honestly, what I want is a return to women being housewives. I don't care if it's unpopular. I want to be a housewife and to have a husband who can take care of me and provide for me and ignore me all at the same time. And not like "Desperate" or "Real," but like 1950s tv show. I might even tolerate having a child if I could get back to that way of life.

My Totalitarian Regime

1. Everyone will know how to ride a public bus and the rules of the public bus will make sense. You will not be allowed to block the aisle or the exit if there is an open seat and you will not block open seats by sprawling yourself across them and looking mean. You will always pay when you get on.
2. Shoveling your sidewalk after it snows is mandatory. (I wrote that one last winter.)
3. Turn signals are also mandatory.
4. Pedestrians will have the right of way but they will also move at an appropriate pace.
5. You will not ride your bike on the sidewalk. It's not a "sidebike." Those will be created, however.
6. You will dress appropriately for the event.
7. No adult will wear any article of clothing that has a cartoon character printed on it.
8. Plus-size ladies will not wear t-shirts with stupid animal images on them, don't buy them!
9. When free food is put out for you, you will not take so much that those coming behind you receive nothing. Everyone will have some.
10. Gluttony will be punishable by death.
11. You will never ask someone about what they're eating unless you are VERY close with them. Nor will you ever tell them that it smells good. WTF are you supposed to say to that? Especially when it's not something you made? "Why, thank you. I normally prefer to eat food that smells like sewage."
12. You will not talk simply to hear your own voice or to "make conversation."
13. I realize it's unpopular these days, but Eugenics will be enforced. Here's why: Human reproduction at this point in history is a selfish, bizarre experiment for your own ego. There are already more than enough people on this planet, go find one of them to take care of if you feel the need to do such a thing. Also, it will save us all a lot of time and money.
14. Humans will be made insusceptible to bribery.
15. You will clean up after yourselves and use garbage bins. Just because you're done with your fast food garbage doesn't mean you get to let it casually fall to the ground no matter where you are. Littering will also be punishable by death. 
16. Everyone will learn at least one foreign language fluently, including writing and reading.
17. Everyone will learn THEIR OWN language fluently, including the grammar bits.
18. No one will make excuses or try to transfer blame unnecessarily. No one wants to hear it.
19. You will stop "me-firsting" every situation in your life. Particularly while driving.
20. You will not be able to use your phone while driving because it will not work.
21. You will not talk about or believe in ANY religion. It makes you sound like a crazy person. 
22. You will fucking evolve.

"I'm your secretary"

I said, "I'm still outta here, fb, but I just HAVE to get out one more rant about PITT: Srsly, Pitt, I've applied for at least 25 jobs with you over 3 years, had about 6 or 7 interviews, devotedly temp for you and you STILL insist on REJECTING me at every turn!!! WTF!!! WHAT DOES IT TAKE??? I think I'm gonna go open a vein on the steps over at Craig."

And that was how I ended my facebook dependence.

My Pitt dependence, on the other hand, continues. I received another rejection letter yesterday.

Based on the reactions to the above confession (25 applications, no acceptance), it seems that it's beyond time for me to move on.

When I share it and say it out loud, it becomes quite obvious that I'm being used.

And looking back, there's been a lot of insincerity. A lot of "we'd like to keep you, but..." Somehow I'm just not one of them so they give me their sad, puppy dog pouts and then stab me in the back.

But what the fuck do you move on to in PGH? I don't know computers, medicine, or bridge repair. Maybe CMU?

Oh, and I need to take my masters degree OFF my resume, it's holding me back. And add my work philosophy: "Point me toward the internet and leave me alone. I'll see you in 8 hours."

Taken from Fuck This Depression Blog

I want to share all these amazing things this girl has on her blog because they're also about me and maybe you.

Homesickness is just a state of mind for me. I'm always missing someone or someplace or something, I'm always trying to get back to some imaginary somewhere. My life has been one long longing.   -Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel

                                

Going Quiet

"You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just troubled" 
-Marina & the Diamonds


Hello, everybody!


I've been quiet lately.  It's how I deal with things when they get too overwhelming (my head gets too loud?).  I "go quiet."  More quiet than normal.  I've always been quiet and always had to suffer through jokes about being so, usually from co-workers who like to turn it around on me.  Ha ha, that's so funny, your joke about how I make so much noise!  Sorry I don't want to join in on any of your mindless conversations about... Actually, I have no idea what they're talking about.  Washing machines? That's what I had to talk about with one of my co-workers this past Friday when she decided to sit down (uninvited) in my (temporary) office for a "visit."  She especially likes to make jokes about how quiet I am.    


Usually when I "go quiet" it's because I really have nothing kind or positive to say to or about anyone.  I'm probably deep in self-pity and boiling over with jealousy so it's best I stay quiet or risk making a fool out of myself by spouting my unpopular opinions and truthful observations.  [I will read you like a drag queen.  (I wish.)]    


OMG, I just had to log out of Runescape so this fool would stop following me.  I can't even interact well with others in video games.  I really don't know how you all do it, playing games with strangers.  I get too annoyed.  Hmm.  

But I'm trying to be more outwardly positive, when it comes to being an internet personality, anyway.  I find it hard to write about anything but what's going on in my head, though.  It seems like I've gotten worse since deciding to move back to Philly.  Now that it's supposed to actually happen I find myself paralyzed by doubt and fear.  Mainly I'm scared to death of trying to find a job.  And what kind of job?  Should I really try to go back to school or should I try again to find a library job?  I know I'm good at going to school, I think that's the ONLY thing I'm good at. 

What the what is going on in this picture? I love it.

I don't want to have to organize and manage and present and coerce and sell sell sell which seems to be the only job there is left in this world no matter what label it actually has.  


I've been working at the iSchool again.  The place from which I received my masters degree in delusion.  And I watch all these fools come in who are also getting degrees in delusion and then my bitterness overwhelms me and I want to burst into tears and scream at them that they are fools being sold false promises.  When in fact the majority of them will probably get offered a library job. 


See why I go quiet?    

"What's wrong with Pittsburgh?" AKA "I'm so sorry if I'm alienating some of you"

The ongoing saga of Gray v. Pittsburgh. 

Q. You know what is the best part of Pittsburgh? A. Neither does anyone else. 

People in Pittsburgh are very sensitive about their city being criticized.  So whenever I get the opportunity I like to criticize Pittsburgh.  I had no idea that if I Googled "I hate Pittsburgh" that I'd find so many like-minded people.  While a lot of the sites I found were sport-related, I also found a handsome number of non-sport related sites.  And before anyone asks the dumb-ass "Then why don't you leave?" question, please be aware that I am working on it and it's easier said than done (see below).  If you want to start a fund to help me move I'll appreciate it.  Treat me like Rush Limbaugh.  I'll actually go.       

This 38 page thread titled "Pittsburgh REALLY SUCKS" has had me laughing out loud at work for two days though most of it's written by fucking CRAZY people.  Believe it or not, I am working on the "If you can't say something nice" rule, so I'll mainly provide some highlights of what others have said about Pittsburgh:

"They are intolerant of others, impatient, know-it-all jerks."

"Pittsburghers are oddly arrogant and downright unfriendly. Anyone not from here is an outsider, and is treated like one. Ignorance is prevalent, and unfortunately even accepted. Pittsburgh is honestly the most racist, intolerable city I have ever even visited, and it's not hard to find a native who's had a few too many I.C. Lights to call you a name and pick a fight with you over nothing. Ask half of them if they have ever left (even on vacation) and many will say no, because they claim no need to.  It is really strange.  Many here have no desire but to live their entire lives here and never see nor care about anything else in the world.  Downright depressing and pathetic."

"I have never hated living somewhere so much in my life (and yes I've lived in several cities)
Everything about this place blows, the weather, the traffic, the parking (or lack there of), people are rude and obnoxious, worst drivers on earth, these weirdass roads make no sense with their 5-way intersections and random ass exits/entrances.
I can't find a job worth CRAP, and am sick of even trying to find one now.
I can't wait to get the heck out of here and am going to be miserable until I do. What a mistake coming here."

"Pittsburgh feels like a large trailer park where everyone is forced to wear yellow and black. It is easily the most irritating place that I have ever lived. "

And sadly, my biggest fear addressed: "Cut your losses and run from this place now! Western Pennsylvania is a vacuum. Most people who want to leave cannot, because their financial situation is perpetually bad. They can never get ahead, but they keep saying 'as soon as I get ahead, I'll get the hell out of here.' It never happens for them though, and they are stuck here forever.
GET OUT NOW WHILE YOU STILL CAN!"

And why do they still allow people to smoke inside at way more places than are necessary?  And why are there no street signs at intersections?  Why are there so many roads that suddenly don't have sidewalks?  What the fuck is wrong with the public transportation in this town?  Why don't you just have everyone pay when they get on like civilized cities do?  And what's with all these damn bugs?  Why does Rick Sebak's voice make me want to throw things at the TV?   

Recently I thought I had reached the acceptance stage in my grieving for someplace other than Pittsburgh.  Hopefully everyone reading this is educated enough to be familiar with the Kubler-Ross stages of grief, if not wiki that.  Unfortunately my acceptance was short-lived when Pitt fucked with me yet again and told me no, you are nothing but a temp and that's what you will always be to us.  This has sent me crashing back into stage 2: ANGER.  And here I sit.  Temping in anger.

I think my household as a whole has reached its threshold with how much Pittsburgh we can take so we are looking into other options.  While I would like to go "home" for a while, somewhere in the MD/DE/PA tri-state area, we are also considering New Orleans.  If you have suggestions on places to live in other states I'm open to hearing about them.  At least one of us has to have a full-time job and we like to pay no more than 20-25% of our income in rent but don't want to live with other people to make that happen... Crazy, I know.