Ah, Marilyn Manson. What a great title.
I would have had a 16 month old on christmas eve. Time sure flies by, huh? It hurts like it was yesterday, and the traumatic experience that I went through, not only when I lost the baby, but lost the “friend” along the way … it still tears at my heart. The old me would be crying my eyes out just thinking about it. The new me is thankful that I learned something from it. I now know when someone is probably just trying to use me, and I can stop it before it happens. Cautiousness. Hey, universe, you could have gone with something less dramatic/traumatic. Hell, maybe I needed the drama/trauma. Regardless, I learned to not be used again, and that is what is important.
Self-respect. I learned that anyone who would use me doesn’t respect me, and if I allow them to use me, I have no respect for myself.
Life is beautiful. It is messed up and sad, unfair at times, completely taken for granted by many, totally chaotic, but it is beautiful. I now find it hard to admit that there have been a few times that I would have elected to leave this life behind because I failed to see the beauty. Depression and anxiety are bitches.
Well, Phuktophiles, it has been a while. A situation with family has had me hating life again. I find it hard to love someone so much and have them not respect me or my feelings. It has taken a while for me to come to terms with it, but I find that I can explain it no other way. The events that caused me such pain got me thinking about the years I have spent with her, the things that have happened between us, and I have no other explanation. As much as I hate this and I hate not having a relationship with this person, I am glad that I learned something. Sometimes it is the ones closest to you that will hurt you the most. Perhaps, though, it only hurts because you feel like they shouldn’t treat you the way they are because you would never do that to them, you know? My standards of caring for this person are maybe higher than their standards of caring for me. I guess I will never know. But I do know this: I learned that I need only give my loyalty to those who will give theirs to me. I have always just given loyalty as though it did not need to be earned. I learned that it does.
I learned that making one simple misjudgement can ruin your life.
I learned that I am a person who will never feel whole unless I am loving the absolute shit out of everyone important to me, even if I don’t get it in return. But I must draw a line. I can never again be a door mat. Being a door mat will kill me. Scratch that. I will kill myself if I allow myself to be a door mat. Physically, figuratively, that I can’t answer, but I can’t exist that way anymore.
I learned that no matter what, I have to stop putting other people before myself all the time. I also learned that I am “other people” to other people, and I don’t always get what I want out of them, so why should they always get what they want out of me? No more pretending to be something I am not just to appease someone else. If you dont like me, oh well. Get away from me.
I learned that some people just need to be surrounded in drama. I don’t need to be around them.
No more will I fight with every fiber to keep someone in my life who clearly doesn’t want to be kept. If I cut you off, you probably gave me the knife. Most likely, you yanked it out of my back.
But you know what I learned that is most important of all?
Be fuckin’ happy.
I went on an interview for a new printing company, and they are writing me an offer letter. They want me. I want them. I want a career with them. They want me to have a career with them. The day following my second interview, the one in which they told me that they are interested, I had a few friends out for my early birthday celebration. For the first time in years, I felt joy. I was driving home the morning after, and I was thinking about what had gone on the night before and I noticed something. My smile. For the entire party, my smile was genuine. There was no “I’m having fun” mask. I was actually happy. I realized … it had been so long since I felt that. The years I have wasted not being genuinely happy … that’s painful. My youth, like everyone’s, is short-lived. Soon, I will have wrinkles. Soon, society will dictate that I can’t wear shimmery eyeshadow, I won’t be able to dye my hair crazy colors. I won’t be allowed to dress up in rockabilly clothes without people shaking their heads saying “she’s too old for that”, and here I am wasting that time on depression. Does that mean I will medicate? Hell no. But I will think longer and harder about what this life is for and hopefully I will be able to convince myself of what I have always failed to in the past: this is it, babycakes. You only get one go-around. Make the best of it. If it doesnt make you happy, get rid of it. If someone doesn’t respect you, cut ’em off. Give love where love is given, give loyalty where loyalty is given. You don’t owe anyone shit, especially not the right to walk all over you because you’re kind enough to let them. Fuck that. Be the best you that you can be. Most importantly, you’re never too old for rockabilly.
phuktneurotic 