This Family is Going to Hell.
I'm running in mental circles again. I feel that by calling myself a bisexual, I gave myself a big confusing definition of myself. Maybe I'm just sick of men currently and I need to wait for things to cool down so I can have my greedy identity back. I don't know why I'm so discontent. My ex has given up fleeing this city to stay with me (because I won't leave my cat behind), he has been giving me the intimacy I have been craving and he has been more respectable towards me (though I have been handing him control. I sort of want to be obedient, but then again, I can be very headstrong, moreso sexually). I doubt my psychiatrist can understand a females mind to actually help me. From the Psychiatry museum, I'm actually sort of afraid he will sexually assualt me. Oddly enough, I don't fear that soully from men, because women have done it to me as well. Anti-sexual-sounds like a plan.
My birthday turned out pretty good. I went to a clinic incase I did have a whore illness. The lady saw nothing (she took a long time looking at samples). I was fine with the vaginal probing, but the anal probing was far from my cup of tea (bloody freaking horror. One more speculum exam this year and all may be good. That would make it 5 times. Sick).
My sister and I wandered around for awhile. Went to the stripclub by my house and filled out an application. I was really surprised that I got an interview so fast and botched my chances of getting hired. I felt so self conscious afterwards looking over all the flaws he could have seen right off the bat. Uhg. I wasn't too pleased with myself.
I went out with my ex for dinner, and afterwards, we went to his favorite club. The night was lovely. When we were heading home, he felt ill so I said some familiar, humourous quotes in hopes of making him feel better. He started to cry, which turned out to be from laughing too hard.
Our weekend went nicely, though I was really bummed out to miss the Naughty But Nice Sex Show. I was waiting months to go, but gave up due to thinking I would be broke. I had plenty of money to go and my friends informed of how enjoyable it was. There's always next year, I keep telling myself (I have been telling myself this since last year). Once I get my nipples pierced, that should make up for it. Next period (I'll be grouchy anyway and it helps that I won't be having sex during that time either. I don't want any accidental agitation just incase I get bad swelling or something. I don't know what to expect either way).
I hate my father. He keeps informing me of the continuous deterioration of my grandparents. I love them so much and felt like they actually cared about me while I was growing up (where it was hard to find love at home because I was the oldest, the dumb one, and the troublemaker). I do not want to hear that they look like skeletons, that my grandma's cancer is back, that my grandpa has lost a lot of control over his body movements (from his stroke). I may like pain, but it's physical pain that I get off on, that I actually enjoy. I hate emotional pain because it hurts more and for longer periods of time. He seems to really enjoy watching me squirm and cry (negitive, non-consensual sadism that only he can benefit from).
He is also getting really cruel with his "jokes" (they aren't jokes, they never were and they are getting worse). My sister told me he made an AIDS crack at a lesbian who was on the news, who died and no one laughed but him (oh...she didn't died of AIDS either). He is probably afraid my sister is gay, and since their relationship is worse than it ever was, he had nothing good to say, and couldn't keep his ill-mannered comment to himself. I would have said something if I was there. My family is falling apart, but there wasn't a strong glue or bond holding any of us together (my sister is the only one who can get along with two members and occationally our mother, while I can only deal with her-meaning my sister-and rarely feel like stabbing her with an icepick).
I'm so miserable in this house, I just can't wait to leave.
My birthday turned out pretty good. I went to a clinic incase I did have a whore illness. The lady saw nothing (she took a long time looking at samples). I was fine with the vaginal probing, but the anal probing was far from my cup of tea (bloody freaking horror. One more speculum exam this year and all may be good. That would make it 5 times. Sick).
My sister and I wandered around for awhile. Went to the stripclub by my house and filled out an application. I was really surprised that I got an interview so fast and botched my chances of getting hired. I felt so self conscious afterwards looking over all the flaws he could have seen right off the bat. Uhg. I wasn't too pleased with myself.
I went out with my ex for dinner, and afterwards, we went to his favorite club. The night was lovely. When we were heading home, he felt ill so I said some familiar, humourous quotes in hopes of making him feel better. He started to cry, which turned out to be from laughing too hard.
Our weekend went nicely, though I was really bummed out to miss the Naughty But Nice Sex Show. I was waiting months to go, but gave up due to thinking I would be broke. I had plenty of money to go and my friends informed of how enjoyable it was. There's always next year, I keep telling myself (I have been telling myself this since last year). Once I get my nipples pierced, that should make up for it. Next period (I'll be grouchy anyway and it helps that I won't be having sex during that time either. I don't want any accidental agitation just incase I get bad swelling or something. I don't know what to expect either way).
I hate my father. He keeps informing me of the continuous deterioration of my grandparents. I love them so much and felt like they actually cared about me while I was growing up (where it was hard to find love at home because I was the oldest, the dumb one, and the troublemaker). I do not want to hear that they look like skeletons, that my grandma's cancer is back, that my grandpa has lost a lot of control over his body movements (from his stroke). I may like pain, but it's physical pain that I get off on, that I actually enjoy. I hate emotional pain because it hurts more and for longer periods of time. He seems to really enjoy watching me squirm and cry (negitive, non-consensual sadism that only he can benefit from).
He is also getting really cruel with his "jokes" (they aren't jokes, they never were and they are getting worse). My sister told me he made an AIDS crack at a lesbian who was on the news, who died and no one laughed but him (oh...she didn't died of AIDS either). He is probably afraid my sister is gay, and since their relationship is worse than it ever was, he had nothing good to say, and couldn't keep his ill-mannered comment to himself. I would have said something if I was there. My family is falling apart, but there wasn't a strong glue or bond holding any of us together (my sister is the only one who can get along with two members and occationally our mother, while I can only deal with her-meaning my sister-and rarely feel like stabbing her with an icepick).
I'm so miserable in this house, I just can't wait to leave.
posted by Nico | 19:53
0 Comments:
Een reactie posten
<< Home