Holograms Need to be a Thing

Seriously. Then I can enjoy public places without getting self conscious about being myself. People are here in Battlestations. Time to blend in with the general masses. It helps I'm not my usual self to start off with. I have natural colored hair and a blue shirt on.

Don't Google People Who Have Ruined Your Life

Just don't. You'll fixate, negate, contemplate, and meditate. You'll go down a road that leads only to dark, unsavory places. You'll remember the good, the bad, and the downright hate that that person has created. You'll drown in an unstable conglomeration of emotions until you are rescued by an outside source of help. If you're lucky, it'll only be an ephemeral phase.

If you're me, it'll haunt you, either actively or idly, for the rest of your life.

LAN Cafes, Kids, and Balloons Oh My!

Basically, all you need to know about my current situation is in the title. I'm here at Battlestations with my boyfriend on our only day off together (Mighty fuck REC, why don't you just bend me over now?), and of COURSE it's a day where there are two birthdays. Joy. And the second party brought fucking balloons, which have terrified me since I was about 8. Thanks Papa-san. So in order to cope, I have my Celtic Pandora station on and trying to block out my surroundings.

Of all days I would need him the most, my Pagey is unable to accompany me here. Oh, and not to mention I have to keep my vulgarities at bay.

Sooooo...

FUCK FUCK SHIT SHIT TWATWAFFLES AND COCKDRAGONS.

Ahhh. Better. Yet, I digress.

I feel the need to post right now to keep my mind occupied, so it might get long winded. So strap down, Sally Mae.

As good as I am with kids and want to go back to babysitting, the inundation of kids today here is kinda making me a bit uneasy. Thank fuck my man brought me my smokes [Wow, this is an interesting version of Dulaman. Still like Altan's better. I used to know the lyrics in Gaelic.] Also thank fuck the balloons are the fuck away from me and in a party room.

Let's see, let's see... Well, now the REC has me working Saturdays and in the good ole spirit of the REC, I'm getting screwed out of Sunday premium. Asshats. I have Mondays off now. All the cool shit happens on Saturday, mang. Nothing fucking happens on Mondays. I even got the DGT on Saturday. So much for high mail volume, guys... Better have been a fluke or else I'mma be pissed as fuck that my Saturdays got taken away from me. I guess my new karaoke night will be Monday for a hot minute.

Speaking of karaoke, my old bar opened back up. I was very tempted to attend the grand opening, but I ended up having to FMLA due to depression. For no reason. So going to a bar would have been something REALLY dangerous to do [Tomorrow I celebrate 3 months sober, by the way].

I think I'm good now. Time to go back to gaming.

Why I'm Good at Fucking Up

As much as I'd like to think otherwise, there are some bad habits I can never fix.  This is why I hate myself sometimes.

Get Thee Behind Me, Fears!

Ever want something so bad, so lusted after, yet was scared of it happening?

Commitment.

Ever since my first experience being married, and having it be such a travesty, I have had a perpetual string of relationships, which most of the time fizzled after a few months. 

I have Borderline Personality Disorder, for those of you who didn't know. My most noticeable, and most annoying, trait is being able to get attached to someone easily and quickly. 

The 4 relationships I've had in Wichita have made me better, made me worse, yet all of them have taught me a lot about myself, how to treat others, and how I deserve to be treated: like a fucking princess (of darkness!)

I have finally found the elusive bastard Happiness. I learned from David and Josh that doing that exact thing will ruin a relationship. With Michael, I am trying to pace myself like a boss. Sorry, had to. But I digress... So far? Freakin' impressive, if I do say so myself. Said THE word a but to early most likely, and I did have to get some advice for a few people, but I am relieved that I did it. And I wasn't offended when it wasn't fully reciprocated. And that usually happens. I do believe this is a good sign that I am getting over some of my relationship issues, of which there are a myriad of.

As a final note, almost having a seizure is not fun.

Standing My Ground... Again...

So I thought I had finally achieved a solitary living arrangement for good. I still have some ties to my ex Michael, but not the house.

Well apparently, he's getting kicked out if his place in Winfield. And guess who he asks to live with.

Yeah. Me.

On the one hand, if he comes back, Morris will chew me the fuck out and raise my rent 300 bucks. Since he has no real steady and reliable income, I'd have to support him until he has enough money saved up.

On the other hand, if I say no, he will end up homeless, penniless, or possibly dead.

I still said no. I have my reasons, which most of my friends know about all too well.

Well, when he laid this on me, all those things ran through my head relentlessly. I started stressing out hardfuckingcore and ended up vomiting. I haven't vomited in 4 weeks. I came back to my terminal and almost immediately ended up having an anxiety attack at my desk. It got so bad, I had to leave work and sit in Boyfriend Michael's car. During a storm. Again.

Speak of him, he really came through for me that night. He was my support system, caring boyfriend, and thunder buddy.

That was the moment I realized he really *isn't* going anywhere.

Tonight I realized my friends have been right for years: I really do deserve to be happy.

ANNNNNND...

I get to celebrate a whole month sober today.

Mr. Stupid Brain or How I Need to Stop Worrying and Like Myself

This guy is phenomenal, yeah? Yeah. So of course, since all I've known in relationships in Kansas is a bit of happiness followed by severe hurt, I'm worrying myself to fits of tears that I'm going to get hurt yet again. Seems to be a steady pattern. I need to be happy, even though a happy Goth is kind of an oxymoron, but it's me at times.

I was off my Lamictal for round abouts a month and I just started taking it again less than a week ago, so obviously I'm not on my "A Game" right now. But Michael told me in the car a bit ago that he's not going anywhere. Which is *exactly* what I need to be reassured about for the foreseeable future, since I'm a paranoid fucktard when it comes to relationships.

Thanks David. Really appreciate that.

He's taking a chance on me. I told him the best way to date me is to just "roll with it", and he's been doing just that. I've been happy for two straight weeks with no sign of my happiness depleting. Looks like *I* need to roll with it, eh?