Why did Caitlin J write about me? (lol)
"We’ve all got that one friend or family member who’s completely miserable and is always quitting jobs and relationships and moving house and changing their diet in a desperate attempt to find happiness. They rearrange their lifestyle for the umpteenth time and they’re barely settled in before their gaze lands on some other aspect of their life and they think, “That’s the source of my unhappiness right there. If I can only escape from that, I’ll be happy.”
" Such people are exasperating to be around, because you can see what they’re doing and you just want to sit them down and go “The problem is in you, babe. Moving won’t help; your inner demons will follow you every time. You’ve got to stay put and deal with your issues.”
"We’ve got to turn inward and evolve beyond our self-destructive impulses. The only way out is through. The mind virus of celestial escapism stops us from doing this, because it offers us yet another false promise of deus ex machina. It lets us run away from doing the hard but necessary real inner work, just like doing drugs or binging on Netflix or any other kind of escapism."
I get to see my doctor in a couple of days but to what avail. I don't see how I can stay here. Getting a room in this town is going to be impossible. I am stuck. I've been living like this so long I have made no friends in this town and so I have this huge problem and no one to help me. My brother has dropped out of the picture, the coward, and my sister is a complete and utter bitch. She's not even going to do the shopping. I have no groceries now. I'm going to have to shell out money for Uber.
Well I just heard that you can rent a truck from Lowe's for 20 bucks so I can use that to get all my boxes shipped. As for the bike & guitar that I never did sell... pawn shop at this point. There's easily 500 dollars worth of stuff that I'll get 40 for if I'm lucky.
At this point I want to die so it's no longer about money it's about I have to get out of here before I hurt myself. This has been going on 4 years and I have finally had enough and have to take back my life from the narcissist. I don't know where I will go. I don't know what the doctor is going to say and as long as I am not going to die on the flight from unmanaged diabetes or a blood clot then I should get out of here. I'm desperate and crying all day and it's just not ok. My sister is laying around reading a Hillary book because she doesn't want to have the TV sound on so she can track my every move by listening in. It's insidious
Part of me is just sitting back figuring there isn't anything she can really DO to me. She can't call the cops for no reason. I do not give her a reason to do that. Although she does give ME a reason, I won't call them on her. She can't kick me out without 30 days notice either. I don't literally have to pay her for the remaining 2 weeks since I have been overpaying her for 4 years. Also, the rent is paid for the month at the office. I paid half a months' rent. Which is what I should have been paying her all this time since I have no agency outside of my own room.
All she cares about is money. I'm trying like hell to save up every penny and all she cares about is getting as much out of me as possible. And blaming me for everything that goes wrong now, like she didn't push her own disabled sister into a room and basically let her rot in there while being abusive behind my back. Everything a narcissist says to me is a reflection of what they find wrong with themselves. She's telling me that I am calling her names and threatening her; the 'threat' was this: I said verbatim:
"If you want me on the streets I can leave right now but you will never hear from me again" and she said she is ok with that so... no obligation there. That's my 'threat' to her. And she will go around telling everyone I am threatening her, letting them use their imagination as to what the threat looks like.
Narcissists are accomplished, polished, extreme sports level liars. I learned from the two best in the nation and everything out of my fucking mouth has to be inspected carefully because of it. Right now my heart rate is up, I'm sweating, I'm anxious, I'm frightened, I'm alone.
I'm completely alone in this. My ex is dogpiling on now. She says I am near and dear to her heart but she offers no solutions, only dire warnings. I have NO FAMILY to turn to, no close person I trust. They've all moved on with their life while I go through this with no real support. Which is my fault for choosing to live and stay here where there really is no good support for people like me. I did this to myself.
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So she's just taken me off the lease, and said she will evict me if I don't pay. It isn't that I don't want to pay. It's that I was hoping to pay after I had seen if I had everything I needed for say, a plane ticket, or the like. But she's in full blown narc mode and a terror to behold. Having just told her that she is a full blown narcissist, she's let that roll off her back and is settling into the roll quite nicely now. I have 5 boxes and a computer I need to send somewhere... but where?
OK you know, I have to find a place to send my boxes. That's the first priority. AND.... she has screamed at me for hours about how I stopped communicating. I think that's pretty funny, considering most people I know have had to tell me to STOP writing them at some point because all I want to do is communicate. But there is one person I cannot communicate with and I live with that person. How many years wasted, trying to communicate with anyone in this family?
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It's so weird to me. An hour conversation with someone about politics, love, life, death, philosophy, current events, you name it. A lovely discussion. Turn from that, to my sister, who is spouting absolute non-sense. NON SENSE. Not a sane word to be heard in this apartment when she's speaking. But I'm crazy. So the entire family in America has always just used me to piss on. And here I am , intelligent, decent, wanting to be helpful to people. But my family wants no part of that. I can't talk to them, I can't do things with them (I've begged them to come do stuff with me), there is really no point in me being around. The more I try to tell my truth, the less sense my truth makes when I try to tell it to THEM. Nothing I say makes any sense to them and trying to explain it gets you rolled eyes. They are going to live and die in Alabama-- alone. That is not going to be my fate!
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I will never understand how my sister can go off for hours about things I write on social media about her, saying she is terribly upset and going to sue me for slander! THEN, a few minutes later, having gotten some money, she's completely fine and it's all forgotten. I mean was she upset or not? My ex the therapist: 'that's why I don't use FB' me: "THAT IS NOT HELPFUL RIGHT NOW B!" her: chuckle.
Sometimes I think B is a bit of a sadist.
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In the middle of this convo with B, whose mother is laying near death nearby, (her mother is very old, a Polish Jew from Argentina who, with B's father, lived through the concentration camps)... I get a text from a random Alabama number (Birmingham, where my friend M lives). Apparently this woman thinks I am some guy she met on a flight out of B'ham the other day. I'm like, 'hi, wrong number lol' and she's like 'woo that could have been embarrassing' ... and I cock my head and think, is this happening? I thought this only happened in movies! '
Well, I tell B. what's happening and she says the universe LOVES me. Bea's an old soul, full of that light and wisdom shit so I take this as a good sign. And I simply cannot believe that at the age of 56 almost 57, after years of crippling depression and flatlined libido, I'm horny enough at any given time of the day to bust a nut with a rando in Birmingham. With only enough hesitation to alert my good friend B. who sits deathwatch over her poor mother-- that poor dying Jew who has to see FASCISTS marching up the street on her position, AGAIN. Can you imagine.
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So apparently random sexting with total strangers DOES happen in real life and I have decided to save the texts so I can prove it. Noone is going to get her number, but I have to see them myself to prove I didn't make it up. And I was truthful to the stranger, too. About my age, situation, gender issues, everything. Ha, figuring with each text I'd scare them off. Who knows who or what it really was. Who cares, they were kind, and did me a damn good turn just by being sexy and sweet to a stranger. Praxis! I wonder what Chapo Trap House would think about this. I mean; I have to sit here and laugh. It's been what, 6 years since I had sex, and that was with K with whom it was always awkward and difficult. It is entirely not her fault. Poor K had a pretty damned hard time in her youth... let's just say I will forever cut her slack. Whew, sexting. Ok. I AM 14.
You know at this point, I have forgotten (with the exception of surprise sexting apparently) how to live. But a sexy encounter ... however anonymous... can certainly remind someone of the good things in life. My taste buds may or may not come back , my skin may never clear up. I might never get my teeth straightened. But dammit, I can still be good at and enjoy the sexy times! Got a few years left where that might actually happen, who knows. It's not something I'm actively seeking, especially since I do not enjoy, or haven't, so far, the sex act itself. Of course that could change. But I don't seek sex out. I have sexual feelings... but when I think them through to the actual act, they usually dissipate. It's the rare human I like well enough to imagine it through and not be dissuaded by visions of them being taken aback by something such as psoriasis, or my crooked teeth that I don't show unless something makes me smile so hard I can't hide my teeth... I start imagining that and then how I hate trying to get people to tell me what they like. Have I only been with people who can't tell me what they like? I think maybe. Like they had to be really drunk to talk about it. Me, I can't just do it unless they do... talk about it I mean. If they are open to it, I am. If they aren't, I can't. Well so far. I might just go ahead and tell them what I like now, although, what do I like? I like to get it over with ASAP is what I like. Being turned on is more an annoyance to me. Lately anyway. Maybe it's because I'm so not used to it. Was it like this before?
Sad that a person has to be so messed up about so many things and it has to include sex of all things. Hard enough to find the sex, with someone who likes you back, but then it's got to have all this baggage and ... I see the baggage coming too. I have mine, I see theirs, I'm cool with theirs but mine is a bit too heavy for them. I don't blame them. I once had my shit on lockdown... I did. But I have one fatal flaw to end all fatal flaws: I cannot pretend to be normal for longer than 4 years. That is my breaking point every time. I had a button down job and I had a career path laid out and I looked at it hard and I said I cannot do this and I walked away from it. Because I could see myself dying down the road, just a shell of an automatron. It has long been my mantra that I will hitchhike to Portland, or to San Fran, to see their beauty one last time before I were to jump from a high rise or the like. I promised myself. A person who has not ever belonged anywhere and suddenly belonged somewhere has a very hard time leaving that place behind. Especially since seeking high and low within their means, they have not felt a part of since.
I wouldn't even be thinking about it had my libido not come back, I swear to god why. B. says I have too much adrenaline. Who knows maybe THAT is the stupid thyroid TOO. I absolutely hate that I had to go to the ER, and to the clinic, and waste hundreds of dollars, when it was undoubtedly my thyroid, and we could have checked that if my doctor wasn't booked 3 months solid, because they are packing patients in like CRAZY for some reason. My sleepy little neighborhood clinic got so busy I can't see my doctor anymore. Them trying to squeeze every dollar out of everything (it's a non profit hospital of course) has cost ME a couple hundred, thanks, US gov.
B. has been awfully attentive since I told her I always imagine her as one of the characters when I read a Gabrielle Garcia Marquez book. It will never make any sense how we were lovers at one point, she and I. It is sad too because I was so small minded I missed out on 90 percent of her huge personality. It's really unfortunate. She keeps saying I'm welcome there. But I know she has no idea what she'd be in for. Her mother would not understand me. Although I have seen a picture of B's romantic interest of current, and that person seems more masculine than I do, still. that person has not been invited to B's mother's house.
Which is bloody weird because long ago I thought I had lost touch with B. when she was living in Columbine. I had always wanted to meet her parents, as they were survivors of the concentration camps and I'd read Elie Wiesel--"NIGHT" and all kinds of books on the Holocaust. I was and remain insatiable on information pertaining to it because I have always thought America capable of nazi-ism and here we are. I'm seeing signs I learned about decades ago. And now here I am again, in touch with B. of a night, her mother laying near death, B reminiscing, and showing me pictures of her walks through the Burrough with her mother. Personally I think it would be absolutely flat out fascinating to hang out with B. for a while but I am distrustful of her motives. I have no intention of hooking up with an ex right now, and when it comes to hooking up with exes, lesbians tend to do that shit too much. I don't find her in the least attractive, and I'm not sure why we hooked up in the first place. We were destined to be friends, just like me and every other lover I've ever had other than the Gremlin. When I think of past lovers, I feel sorry for them each one. It's never a good idea to hook up with a street urchin. You really can't ever make a street urchin feel welcome, or satiated.
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So now I sit, deathwatch with B. I suppose my little problems take her mind off her mother's impending release.
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