So it's July, and it's been a long ass time since I posted here. I think I'm being rather consistent...haha

So anyways, with the last post about homeschooling, it really has gone great, but it's probably not going to seem so great next to what I'm about to say.

I'm lonely, I'm scared, and I hate myself so much that I can't seem to stop thinking of different ways to kill myself. Not saying I'm ever going to "go through with it" cause I'm sure I won't, but just the thought of doing so seems to have become a sick sorta relief.

The worst part is that I seem to be in some sort of destructive mindset...I continue to do shit that simply makes me hate myself MORE. And in those moments of destruction, I tend to be more happy.

Yes, it's twisted. I'm really worried about it becoming the "new norm". If I let this continue, I worry that my self-mutilating fantasies will turn into reality.

I know that no one reads this. I guess the really messed up part is this is the forum I'm using to ask for help. I suppose it's all just part of my self-hatred.

I wish I had friends I felt like I could talk to. I seriously begin to wonder if I don't have such close friends because I feel as if I haven't been a very good friend myself, therefore I am not allowed friend good enough to give a damn.

So I decided to start homeschooling. Thus far everything is going absolutely, wondrously, awesomely perfect.

That was a joke.

Well, stupid sarcasm, which is something I'm good at.

Called my step-sis last night to chat, and just so happened to mention the whole "we're going to homeschool" thing. Bad idea. Especially since she was drunk.

Between the "you're going to kill that baby" 's (because, as everyone knows, homeschoolers lock their children in the house and don't allow them to have ANY friends) and the "you're just doing this for yourself, you just need to get out of the house and get a job" 's (yes, of course! all bored stay at home mom's opt for homeschooling simply to get out of having to get a "real job")....she managed to throw in an "I'm going to talk to your mom and get her on my side", which was sooo what I wanted to hear! The idea of having the family gang up on me over this just tickles me pink! I'm so overjoyed I'm tripping over my enthusiasm and falling right into a huge squishy pile of GLEE.

She called me back this morning to half-ass apologize. I say half-assed because she still made it very clear that she doesn't like homeschooling (as if she really knows what it is), and swears up and down that there is "something" schools give kids that they need in life. Outside of the "social" issue, she couldn't pin point for me exactly what that "something" was, but she is quite confident that there is "something" schools have that I won't be able to give my daughter.

Being the suck ass that I am, I politely told her that I understand her concerns (and could you please shove them straight up your crack so I don't have to hear them anymore?.....oh, oh, squeeze them cheeks tighter, I'm hearing mumbles ) but we're simply going to test this out for the rest of this year, and if it doesn't work for either of us, then she'll return to school next year.

Then I let her go and proceeded to beat my head on the kitchen counter, hoping that somehow I could rid my soul of the hateful feelings I was having.

Didn't work.

So I'm going to try a different method.

What the fuck right does she think she has telling me what is right with my daughter when her three kids are all fucking degenerates that don't even know how to fucking read?? The school system gave two of them diploma's, and they can't spl a fukng wurd. They can barely read or write, it's absolutely SAD.

OH, and shall we talk about the whole "social thing" for a bit? Cause ya know, I'd be so much happier if my daughter had a booming bundle of idiot friends, whether or not she actually learns anything, eh! who needs knowledge anyways? I so totally want my daughter to be like my niece who is currently on probation for getting caught with a pot pipe and some weed while practicing the much needed social skills of "hanging with the hommies". Or even like my nephew, who is facing prison time for various crimes and not paying his fines. But he has a GREAT social apparatus! Or maybe even my other nephew, 16 yrs old, not quite finished with school yet but probably won't graduate anyways due to the fact that he might spend the rest of his minor years in juvinal detention for his SECOND DUI!

Yeah, so, I'm absolutely going to listen to my step-sis on how to raise a child! I mean, she's done so well! How could I argue with her methods after looking at the results?

Lana....if you're reading this...I miss you....

Conversations with Myself....Who the fuck am I?

I love the idea duality. Especially right now. Because my dual personalities are fighting. What I think about myself and who I am are duking it out. What I think about myself is all apart of what everyone else thinks about me, and who I am just doesn't have a fucking clue, it is something I have to come up with all my own.

Who I am is basically screwed, because I've based most of what I think about myself on what others think.

What I think about myself has a checklist of everything I need to change. Every reason why I'm wrong in logical order, chronologically.

Can I really be me if I am so worried about what other people think?

There's constructive criticism and there's letting other's ideals run your life. And I'm having a hard time differentiating between the two.

Who I am isn't wrong, it can't be, it's ME. But if I let what I think about be take too much control, won't I lose me?

The New Old Top 100

I just found my old Top 100, and here are the entries that are still applicable:

I used to think it was cool to shoot chemicals through my veins.

I spent 8 months in treatment for it.

I am still recovering from treatment.

I like to watch Veggie Tales more than my daughter.

I can't stand people that act like me. I like to be selfish, controlling, and spoiled all on my own.

I never wear sandals without painted toenails. I think my feet are ugly otherwise.

I got sick once when I was 6 yrs old eatting an enitre container of maraschino cherries. I don't eat them very often anymore.

I met my husband through ICQ.

I have pretty nipples. I have always been proud of them ;)

I am 22 years old, but I feel 30.

When asked what my age was by a doctor, it took me about a minute to figure it out. He thought it was funny, I felt like an idiot.

I have a pugged nose. My husband says it's "cute", I think it's my mom's way of genetic torture.

My sister used to pull her nose up with her finger and make fun of my nose. She has scarred me for life. I have yet to speak with my therapist about this issue.

I smoke too much.

I usually only smoke pot when I'm drunk. Otherwise it makes me feel weird. That is the only drug I do.

I love to take pictures. Someday I will have a house with a nice darkroom.


I hate the fact that my daugher has inherited my stubborn attitude.

When I was trying to decide a good name for my daughter, I chose one that sounded good when yelled...."Mikayla Lynn!"

I analyze things alot, especially when I'm drunk.

I think I have alot of good insights and points of view (especially when I'm drunk). I just have a hard time saying them (especially when I'm drunk).

I believe that some drugs can take you to a higher mental plain.

I love music, it's an excellent form of expression.

Sometimes music controlls my mood. (ie. when I listen to sad music it makes me sad, when I listen to happy music it makes me happy, when I listen to morbid music it makes me evil)

I am afraid of the dark. I have to have a nightlight in everyroom.

I scheduled my wedding around an astrological chart, giving me the best days for marriage.

I died my hair black once. I tried to get the black color out of my hair by using real bleach. A lot of the black changed to various shades of brown and blonde, but unfortunately half my hair fell out.

My eyes are two different colors, left one is green, right one is brown. The green one changes between brown and green. Thats my flippy side.

I have very strange dreams and I usually remember them, although I can't even begin to understand my own mind.

I don't like to sleep on my back. I prefer sleeping on my tummy.

I believe we are being screwed out of our rights by the government, but I don't know what to do about it.

I believe we are connected to a higher energy (God), but I don't believe in traditional religion. Although I do support most religions, because they are striving for that basic need for God. Sometimes I think that religions could all have merit ( and be related ), in their own ways. Maybe I will study this someday.

I know that I am smart, I just like people to think that I am not so I can outwit them.

I have a very deceptive side.

I like to organize things for some reason. I don't know why.

I like to organize things for some reason. I don't know why.

I have been told I have a bad co-dependency problem, but I don't understand what they mean.........where's noah? Noah?!

I have a big heart, and my body is getting bigger to accomodate.

I have slept with more guys than I can remember, yet I have a husband who was a virgin before I met him. He doesn't think I'm a slut. He understands that I have open leg sydrome. He calls me his muse.

I was raped once when I was 15 by a friend of my step-dad's.

I blame my promiscuous streak on the fact that I was violated and I wanted my sexual control back. No wonder I married a virgin, eh? haha

I have always had long, flimsy fingernails. I wish they would get stronger, but I don't drink enough milk.

I put a telephone in my name for a friend who was being beaten by her boyfriend and couldn't afford a phone. A week later, I was hanging out with her while my boyfriend was at the bar. While I was in the shower at their house, my boyfriend came in the bathroom and through the shower curtain to bite me in the arm. I guess it's better then being punched the face. He did it because he swore I was having sex with her and her beating ass boyfriend. We had a big fight, and he bit a chunk out of my arm. I wasn't allowed to talk to her anymore. He made me shut the phone off without tell her. I don't know what happened to her, and the bill has never been paid.

I used to hate people who drove around and talked on cell phones, until I got one of my own.

I have lived in Indiana for 9 months and in west Texas for 4 months.

I have a hard time telling people I am sorry. It is easier for me to end the relationship than to admit when I'm wrong.

I like it when I am talked dirty to.

The first kinky thing I have ever done with my husband involved peanut butter.

I have always wanted a big fuzzy teddybear to cuddle with, but I have never gotten one.

I pierced my nose 3 different times by myself, but have since taken out the ring. I still have a small scar.

I have a tatoo on my leg of a rose that was done by someone who had been up for a few days on crank. I got it when I was 18. He used a homemade tatoo gun, and went over it 10 times. It doesn't look too bad, and I am lucky that I didn't contract HIV, thank God!

I had a boyfriend that died when I was 16. His death is what made me fell justified to get into drugs as bad as I did. His mom was the drug dealer.

I would like to have more children, but don't know if I can handle anymore right now. My husband and I have decided to let God choose, whoever that is.

I have owned 2 Mustangs, one was a 1985 LX and the other was a 1992 LX 5.0. The 5.0 got totalled when I was drunk and let the sober guy drive. I didn't even get to wreck my own car.

When the cops found the car in a ditch on a country road (I was going to get it the next day), they found a 6-pack in the front seat. I told them that I was driving and he was drinking because I was the one that was underage. I was 18. I got a $30 ticket for Failure to Maintain Control of my vehicle.

(actually, I've owned another Mustang since I wrote that, a 2005 mustang. Loved it, until I slid it off the side of a telephone poll. Then I realized maybe Mustangs just arn't made for me, even if it's no me that crash them.)

I used to get paid quarters for getting beers for the guys when I was 4-5yrs old. I remember sitting on the porch and counting my quarters one morning, and thinking I was rich because I had $2 in quarters.

When I was about 6, I went out hunting with my step-dad and his friends. I kept complaining that I was thristy, so they gave me a glass with some clear liquid in it that looked like water. I grabbed in and chugged it down, and then started crying because it burned. They gave me vodka. They said I was very drunk after that, and laughed. I don't remember this incident, I wonder why.

I had a poem published in a book when I was 11, and was really proud until I found out there were 400,000 (slight exageration) other poems in the same book. I felt cheated. They wanted me to buy the book for $65, and I couldn't afford it. They just wanted 400,000 people to give them $65. Bastards!

I love teaching my daughter new things, and watching her do them when I'm not expecting it.

----

I guess I still have a pretty good gauge on myself.

Am I the only on unable to sleep due to the upcoming holiday? It's like I have all these responsibilities and I'm so flipping scared. I don't know what to do. I don't want to sleep because I know it will only bring the inevitable. More shit to worry about, more reasons why I'm wrong. When I know I'm not wrong. I know too much to be wrong.

When I sat in the bathtub of my sisters house and she seen the bruises on my chest, she knew I wasn't wrong. Even though the rest of my family somehow thinks either I wanted it or deserved it.

When I was sixteen and drunk as shit, my step-sis gave me a line of crank in her bathroom. It was initiation I guess, cause I got the first line. It was cut up on the toilet in the bathroom on a paper folder. Being drunk, I snorted my line, and as I moved to get up as the chemicals drained down my nostrils, I knocked everyone else's lines of crank on floor. Even then, unbeknownst to me, I wasn't wrong. Although I still feel like an ass about it.

I can't believe that it's 5:13 am on Christmas Eve (not Christmas Day, get it right), and I'm thinking about this shit. Something is really bothering me.

I hate mornings. Especially mornings where I have to pretend that the past is so damn great. Cause it really wasn't. It's been hard getting to where I am now. I don't hold my family or anyone else responsible, it's just life. But it's important enough to be acknowledged nonetheless. Stop pretending it's so pretty. Stop hiding behind some Christmas tree or some gift, or some flag even.

edit....
I think I know what's bothering me. It's been kinda plain as day, for a little while, but I don't even know how to begin to bring it back up. It really bothers me, and pisses me the fuck off.

but I have to talk about how I got raped.
THEY DON'T BELIEVE ME! Why don't they believe me?????

I was 15 years old! Why the fuck would I run from the flimsy foundation of my stepdads house....

Maybe moreso, why the fuck didn't anybody care? Why didn't anyone fight for me??

Jimmy did when he seen that I shooting up. JR punched the guy that raped me, two years too late. I know he knew when it happened, but apparently he didn't believe it. Most didn't.

Except for L, because she was the one I called the very next day, crying, too afraid to walk out of my bedroom to go pee because HE might be out there.

L was the only one that cared.

She saw the bruises. No one else saw them. I screwed up when I forgot to lock the bathroom door before she brought me a towel.

Thinking back on it now...I wish I would have displayed my bruised chest for all to see. That was my only evidence, and because I hid it, no one will ever see it for themselves.

At the time, and even now, it's so much easier to run away.

Fighting the forces, Kanye West's mom recently died from plastic surgery. She probably wouldn't have even been able to get plastic surgery if Kanye didn't make it big in the industry. I cannot image how Kanye is feeling now, it's really sad and horrible. He's not in anyway responsible, but I don't doubt for a second that he feels that he is.

And the more even sad and horrible part is that music producers and really shitty fans are asking "How strong are you now?". Music producers are asking that because they don't give a shit about his life, they just want to know how marketable he is. They worry way fucked up shit like "I hope your mom doesn't hurt your visual appearance."

And maybe thats a good thing. Because it has and it will make him stronger. But I could never deal with my mom dying and the shit people are saying.

Let this make you stronger, Kanye. Fuck them.

If the world was broke, would we know how to fix it?

The human race suffers from a serious communication problem.

Not only don't we understand one another in the same country (rednecks vs yankees, you versus the part of the country you aren't too fond of....lol), we fail to understand the other peoples in our world. And if we don't understand them, we loathe them. They are less.

Even those who we think are more 'well off' then we are, we dislike. It's human nature to reject what we ain't comfortable with. Doesn't matter if it's up down, left, right, or softened vs crumbly cream cheese.

Imagine an ant hill with a communication problem. Hell, watch an ant hill, and you'll realize they MUST have an education problem...(due to a lack of memory, I'm sure). If anything a big fucking YOU is disturbing their reality of UFO's, or at the very least, demoralizing their line of "troops" because not only are they trying to relay back to "homebase" that they don't want to die, but also that they don't even know what death is, much less getting stomped on or sun-magnified by a human, whatever a human is.

I cannot believe after 4 years this blog still exists! Wow, it's cool to have all my old archives again. Or maybe not...I can't remember what I wrote...lol

Anywho....just to update real quick. I will be posting here again since I've gotten rid of the drunkphilosophy.com site. Lots going on and lots to talk about. Mikaya is now almost 6 years old and in kindergarten...amazing how time flys!

It's good to be back. I will post more soon, but I have to work on cleaning the HELL out of my house. We're looking at selling it and moving into an organic mini-farm! Chickens and EVERYTHING! *giddy*

Moved


This Blog Has Moved to http://www.drunkphilosophy.com

Life is a dull splat of irritation
These days, I seem to wane under the validity of my own amusement. Speckles of sun, from deep in the sky, cower down on me as if laughing at my degredation. And amidst all this valuptious scheduling, I have no fuckin idea what is going on. Nor have I the conotation of my own cerebrial impulses. Lest thee be forbidden to ride the electrifying web of calibration, thy multon brain be beqwethed to the depths of a spellchecker.
Thankyou, please come again.

Trying to Recover
Last night was crazy. We went out with Noah's sister Amy and her husband, Brian. They are in town from Hawaii for Christmas and New Years, but they are leaving early tomorrow morning. We all went to the bar and rang in the new year by getting stinking drunk. I woke up today with the most killer headache in the world....lol
I know I haven't blogged much lately, I've been working on the new site. Stickysidedown.net. Lana already transferred her blog there. I'm tryin to get everything else done before I do that. I'm not in a big hurry. Probably going to switch from blogger to greymatter because of the comment boxes and the problems I've been having with my archieves.
I'll have to blog about everything later, I'm really tired. My body needs rest.

LOLOL

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not really.....LOL