I’m holding on

Why is everything so heavy?

Holding on

So much more than I carry…

I don’t have anywhere else to rant and I have little energy other than to say, god, how sincerely I wish that 16-year-old me had learned to tie a better noose. I am not equipped for this life. Nothing has gotten better.

I’ve tried so hard. I’m trying so hard. I don’t know how other people do this. What they’ve been equipped with that I haven’t.

I truly think the only reason I was put on this earth was to die.

Researching the Blues

I know it’s been a while and I’ll eventually tie up the loose ends from the last time I ended up rambling on incoherently here, but for now, strap yourselves in, because I’m in the car of complaints, and I’m apparently ready to go racing once again…

I’ve had a lot of falling outs with people recently, which has been difficult to do because it’s not like I had a lot of people to fall out with to begin with, and of course all the emotional hoopla that comes with severing decade-long attachments to people whom you loved and thought loved you, but hey, who cares about that? As always, everything is my fault, though I must say, I truly know not what I do. Whether I’m just stupid or emotionally unavailable (actually, I’m both), or if we’re just spinning the wheel for ideas on why I suck, I guess the gods have decided, the pen has writ, and I’m all set to die alone. Good for me. 

     That’s less of what I want to talk about, though; people not cumming their pants over me isn’t exactly news. 

I strive everyday to change problematic behaviors within myself and to address the brokenness in my head, home, and heart (okay, every day might be pushing it, but at least three times a week), and to restore some sense of sanity and like, I don’t know, fun? reasons to wake up everyday? anything that’s not bitter and agonizing crippling depression? to my otherwise sad and frankly, disappointing existence. And not to take away from my adversaries, but I don’t believe they do any of that, and I’m a bit tired of always having to be the introspective one. I know I suck, and I’m fairly confident (and consistent!) in the reasons why. But due to my antagonists’ lackluster self-examination, I guess I have to do all the work yet again, and let everyone else know exactly why they suck and why our relationships keep ending. I’m going about this the wrong way, as always, and I’m going to be upfront about this by saying I know that, but I’m only trying to help. 

      So here it is, comrades, my current reasons why we’re no longer liking each other’s Facebook posts and other things that indicate friendship in this weird day and age…

Exhibit A) You’re RUDE. Not chewing with your mouth open or forgetting to tip the valet rude. Those things are bad enough, but not so much so that I’d take time out of my day to unfollow you on Twitter AND Instagram over. No, you’re rude for reasons you probably don’t even consider, or worse, that you do and you either don’t care or don’t think are “that bad”. What are you going on about, R&S? I’m talking about the kind of rude that leads to getting invited to things like baby showers and bridal showers but never receiving an invite to the actual wedding or to see the new baby. I’m talking about the kind of rude that means I show up (and I have depression, mind you, so getting up, getting dressed, and showing up for you?! Not exactly an easy feet. But I don’t brag or expect accolades or minstrels writing songs about me, because you’re my friend). I come bearing nothing but gifts, well-wishes, and hopefully if I’m doing this right, a good sense of friendship and camaraderie. Never mind that you didn’t come to my birthday party this year, last year, or the year before that, that people close to me have died and I’ve received a whole lotta nothing from you, that my life has gone to shit multiple times and I’ve had zero inquiry from you or yours, because none of that matters. I’m here for you, on your special day. Except not that special day, because that’s reserved for people in your life that you actually give some semblance of a shit about and aren’t just using for the free loot. Which brings me to…

Exhibit B) The gifts. Oh, the gifts. Everyone has their own “love language” and mine is gift-giving. I don’t have a lot in the way of physical affection, or more unfortunate, quality time to give. Childhood trauma and my undying devotion to my career (yeah, I have one of those now; we’ll get to that) have pretty much ruined any chance of that (those two things are linked btw, how fun is that!!) but I am an excellent gift-giver as you very well should be when it’s all you’ve got to offer. I pay attention to people, I promise, and I hope it shows up in the gifts I give. Favorite colors, scents, etc, I really do my due diligence to show my love for people with the presents I give. And I guess I’m somewhat human because boy howdy, do my feelings get mighty hurt when that love isn’t reciprocated!! Call me selfish, but I feel like it’s rude to not say “thank you” when someone gets you something. And call me downright egotistical, but I feel like it’s really rude to not only NOT say “thank you” but to not say anything…like, at all. And because I’m such a fucking good little gift-giving elf, this has become a huge problem of mine (and I know it’s my problem because who else’s problem would it be? Certainly not theirs), and I’m not exactly sure on how to proceed after such a shit show. So I don’t. So if you’re waiting for a text or another Instagram like, just know I’m still waiting for a “thank you”, and more importantly, any sign of human life left behind your eyes that would show me that I actually matter beyond what money I can drop on your occasion. I’m waiting on that wedding invite and that birthday invitation, or just a phone call and a night out that maybe didn’t culminate with me just being the human ATM. And to wrap up…

Exhibit C) Things are not always going to be peachy-keen. I have a lot of lows. I admit that. Read this blog and you’ll see that I admit that a lot. I have a lot of lows. Much more so than highs. It is what it is. I invite you in to my high points and I don’t really expect you to stick around during the lows, though maybe I should and maybe you should want to. I obviously do friendship wrong. I try my best but there’s something lacking, or maybe I come off too strong, or something. I genuinely don’t know what it is. I have a lot of lows and I have a lot of flaws. I think asking friends to stick around when things aren’t all sunshine and butterflies isn’t too much to ask. No one can be on the up and up all the time. I recently went through a bout of unemployment (hardy-har, big surprise) and had 100% of my friendships end. 100%. Do I have to go on? Not just with this blog, but like, my life…do I have to go on? Well, my “bout” eventually ended and though I really wanted it to, my life didn’t, so I was forced to get off the floor once again and continue pursuing life, love, and happiness, all the more shitty at those things than ever before. 

I still have no friends, but I’m hoping this will help me get some of the anger and bitterness that obviously still exists in me out so I can pursue new relationships and probably new avenues to hurt and heartbreak 🙄 


Please Anyone That Can Give Me Any Advice As To Why Everything I Touch Turns To Solid Shit, Leave A Comment Below,


§Rainbows & Skeletons§

P.S. sorry to anyone that expected me to return with my life together and like, a positive outlook on anything. This isn’t a fairytale and I’m evidently not a princess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Thick As Thieves”

In an effort to give the people what they most want, I’ve decided to only respond to my “fan” club in one of four easy and cuntvenient ways, including and most definitely limited to,

•Job rejection letters
•A court order
•Vague Facebook postings
•A skull (preferably of an enemy) filled with acorns, shaken about.

I will no longer be accepting things like “phone calls”, “heart felt letters”, “emails”, “text messages”, “cards”, and most definitely not “face to face conversations”.

I hope this clears up any and all confusion, as there has been much speculation regarding my status as a “human being” with human “feelings” and “emotions”. I assure you that out of my seven very fabricated personalities, not one of them is sentient, or has any ability or capacity to feel, perceive, or experience subjectively. I promise.

§Rainbows & Skeletons§

How Much For Happy?

I’m tired and cold and broke and I miss my family. I had to move and I can’t find shit in the new house. I tried to decorate for Christmas, found about half the stuff, did what I could with it. Can’t find the other half…looked everywhere…just about gave up yesterday out of frustration. Pulled it together but still feel like my world has been turned upside down. Tired of feeling like a fish out of water.

Trying my hardest to get in the Christmas spirit but hardly feel at home. I thought unpacking would make me feel better…unpacked the entire house in two days…nothing’s changed. Thought getting a Christmas tree would help too…if anything it made it worse. Don’t know what to do next.

Worried about gifts, worried about money for gifts and having the time to get everything out. Thinking if the people I’m sending stuff too even think about me or if they care at all. This year has been hard…makes me wonder what 2016 will bring…or who 2016 will bring or who else it will take away.

Scared to death. Feel like I’m at a breaking point. Trying really hard to be happy. Coming up empty time and time again. Life is strange sometimes.

Hoping it gets better.

§Rainbows & Skeletons§

I Watched It Begin Again…

Searching for a new job this morning and already feeling not good enough, not smart enough, not educated enough, not anything enough. It is so easy to feel like everyone around me is so much more qualified— they’ve gone to school longer, have better work history, more experience, more qualifications, more everything, and just are better in general. I’m trying not to get too down but everything is just piling up. I thought the company I’m still currently with would be the start of my career, and yet opportunities for growth seemed to have been dwindling down since day one. Now I’m forced to start over on a new path when I just barely started on the old.

It’s so disheartening when I finally get some aspect of my life in order and the rug is almost immediately ripped out from under me, but I suppose a change is necessary to get what I want out of my life and to get where I need to be…if I even know where that is anymore. 

§Rainbows & Skeletons§ 
**Picture from here.

A Day In The Life

9:00 AM: Wake up in some strange guy’s bed. Is this the guy that beat me up and kicked me out or the guy that just went on an angry tirade and kicked me out? Or maybe it’s that dude from the bar that used me for sex and then kicked me out…oh, well, any money— I mean, guy will do!! 

9:30 AM: I feel hungover so it’s time for coffee. While drinking it, I drop my child’s phone, the one his dad sent to talk to him since I took away all other forms of communication from them, in the cup. Oops. That’s what you get for for wanting to talk to your dad, kid. Learn the rules.

9:37 AM: First cigarette of the day. 

9:45 AM: Time for Money Bags…errr…I mean, my booty call…ugh, I mean, my boyfriend this week to go to work. They’re about the walk out the door when I call out to them, “um, hello? Aren’t you forgetting something??” They turn around and smile, “oh, of course, how could I forget?!” He takes out his wallet and hands me his credit card. 

10:00 AM: My coffee has somehow turned to straight vodka but I role with it and begin to surf the web. First I hack my ex-husband’s email, then my ex-boyfriend’s Facebook. I look up my daughter’s blog and attempt to leave a comment about how lies are thicker than blood or however that saying goes, only to find out she’s blocked any and all future comments I attempt to post— oh, geez, today is already shaping up to be a doozy. Ten cigarettes and two bottles of vodka later, I finally give it up. 

12:00 PM: my nine-year-old son stumbles into the bathroom where I’ve been throwing up for the last hour. What is he still doing here? Shouldn’t he be in school or something?! He says I forgot to wake him up and drive him. The nerve of this kid. I bet he’ll want food next!! 

12:30 PM: I finally stop throwing up and pull myself off the floor. Just as predicted, my kid starts crying about being hungry and how his teacher’s not going to like the fact that he’s missed another day of school, or some ridiculous nonsense along those lines. Doesn’t he know he’ll be transferring to another school next week anyway? And more importantly, doesn’t he know that the only reason he’s even living with me is so I can collect a child support cheque from his dad every month?! What a little brat, wanting an education. I smoke five more cigarettes and pour myself a glass of wine before making him a bowl of cereal. 

1:00 PM: I finish off the last of my cigarettes and decide I need more alcohol anyway, so I guess it’s time for a trip to the store. I grab my ex-husband’s cheque that he sent for school uniforms or whatever he was going on about and dash out the door, but not before leaving the TV on for the brat— I mean, my kid to watch while I’m gone. Hey, I’m only going to be gone for a few hours and it’s not like I live in one of the most dangerous cities in the U.S. He’ll be fine! 

1:45 PM: Get to the liquor store and do my shopping!! The total comes out to four-hundred something, and for a second I think about how many hours of work you’d have to do to make that much…LOL, just kidding! I run whatever sucker I’m mooching off this month’s credit card like nobody’s business and hop back in the car that my ex-husband bought me. “A job,” I laugh to myself, “what a joke!” 

2:00 PM: Just as I’m about to hit up the mall, my ex-husband texts and asks if he can see his son this week, like he didn’t just see him six months ago. He repeatedly tells me about how he’s paid his child support, whines about “court orders” like that’s supposed to matter to me and when all else fails, he tells me that our older two children, the one’s that I abandoned years ago, really want to see their younger brother. The nerve of those two, acting like we were some kind of family before I up and left and destroyed everything with my own two hands. “No ties to Texas!!” I yell into the phone before promptly hanging up. 

3:00 PM: After a much-needed shopping spree trying to unwind from that damn ex of mine attempting to see his child, I stop by my lawyer’s office and file another lawsuit. “Who are we suing today?” my attorney asks me, already setting up the Family Wheel. I spin. It lands on my brother. Oh well, I guess that’s what he gets for attempting to be a good uncle to those bratty kids of mine all these years. “File the papers!!” I scream. My attorney tells me she can’t file anything until I pay her the money I owe her, so I decide to sue her too.


4:00 PM: I smoke eleven cigarettes on the way home, all the while wondering how the world could be so cruel. When I get home, my kid asks for food again like I’m his mother or something. I smoke nine more cigarettes and down six shots of vodka while I make him a bologna sandwich, which may or not be two months expired. When he complains about it tasting funny, I grab a baseball bat and chase him into his bedroom with it. 

5:00 PM: After I put a few holes in the door with the bat, I go into the bathroom and carve a pentagram into my arm, per request of the Dark Lord, Satan. And you thought a lifestyle this cushy just came from selling myself to any man who’ll have me— guess again!! 

5:30 PM: My booty call…err…boyfriend finally comes home. He’s in a good mood so maybe he won’t kick me out tonight. I cross my fingers. 

5:45 PM: My daughter calls and asks if she can talk to her little brother. I tell her no, he’s not here right now as I’m staring right at him— what a sucker!!!! My boyfriend and I snicker at her crying to see her baby brother over the phone before telling her not to call again or I’d sue her. I’m probably going to sue her anyway but what the hell. 

6:37 PM: The Booty Call’s socks didn’t match exactly so he kicks myself and my son out for the third time this week. I drive to my aunt and uncle’s house and ask them if I can freeload there for the night, and though they agree, they give me an ultimatum that I either live there until I find a place of my own or I don’t come back if and when I get kicked out of my next boyfriend’s house. I lie to them and say I agree to their terms, but in my head, I’ve already put them on my list of traitors. “You think you’re above a lawsuit?!” I say to myself, “well, guess again!!” 

7:00 PM: Using my son for the one thing he’s good for, extorting money out of my ex, I hit up his father for cash so I can hit the bars tonight. I tell him he needs clothes for school and he has the nerve to text back and ask what size he needs like he hasn’t seen his kid in months or something and…oh, wait. Well, whatever. I tell him to eff off and to just send a cheque. Last I checked, this wasn’t 20 questions. I’m so angry, I have to smoke an entire pack of cigarettes just to calm down.


9:00 PM: I finally manage to get enough money together from various family members to let my hair down at the local watering hole, aka get hammered at the pub down the street in the hopes of finding a meal ticket for the next week or so. After weeding out the bad apples who have the audacity to ask what I do for a living like I’m some kind of peasant with a job, I finally find my Joe Blow— only 56-years-old, three credit cards and almost a full head of hair!! I ask if I can move in with him tonight and he agrees…so long as I’m willing to give up the goods, and God knows I am!! 

11:00 PM: I load up my belongings in the driveway of my aunt and uncle’s house as they beg me not to move in with a total stranger I just met at a bar a few hours ago. What awful people!! They’re always trying to control me and get in the way of my great future! They don’t even know Joe or how much money he’s going to give me!! I wake up my son and he acts surprised to be moving again like this isn’t a nightly occurrence. I wish he would just grow up already so I could sue him. I smoke thirteen cigarettes in the car and another six in the house while I unpack my stuff and force the kid into his new bedroom, which happens to double as the garage. 

1:00 AM: Two bottles of wine and a few hours on my back and I’m ready for bed. I look around one last time at the house I’ll be living in for the next few hours before giving my final praises to Lucifer and falling soundly asleep, dreaming about all the family members I might get to sue. 

§Rainbows & Skeletons§

P.S. Welcome to the blog!!


End Of. 

After five hours in meditation this afternoon, my mother and I finally reached an “agreement” and settled out of court. I get Jake one weekend every month (that I get to choose), every holiday (like, every single one— Labor Day, President’s Day, fucking Columbus Day— he will be with me), every spring break, every summer vacation (for the entire duration of the summer), every single birthday (mine, his, his mom’s, every. birthday. ever.) and we split travel fees 50/50. A bunch of other stipulations apply too, like Jake is not allowed to move homes or change schools unnecessarily, my mom is no longer allowed to drink when he’s with her, no strange guys around Jake (meaning no more booty calls for my mother— bummer!), Jake has to have his own room within the next 30 days, etc. It’s not a win, it’s not a lose, it just is what it is. 

After a year and a half and almost nine thousand dollars later, this is what it has come to. Make of it what you will. I’m not stoked but at the very least, I get to see him for more than 30 days a year. That’s a victory in it’s own right, though it really shouldn’t be…

§Rainbows & Skeletons§


“This is what your story’s about. My precious little boy, can you figure it out? If it helps to know so there is no doubt, just listen to the stories. Not everything is glorious. Some hurt. Some love. Some shout. I fought the world and I lost that bout— but you are what my life is about. I might’ve been gone but I never walked out” — Blue October, The Worry List 

Mediation In T-Minus Five Hours

Mediation is today and I’m a nervous fucking wreck. I haven’t slept in almost three days straight, every time I lay down and get even mildly close to drifting off, I get sick to my stomach and end up throwing up. I was up all last night doing anything and everything I could to keep my mind off this bullshit, and now I’m home trying to do more of the same except now I’m too tired to really even move. At the very least, I should probably try to sleep again and get a few hours of rest in if I can manage before I have to go put on my clown shoes and get back to the circus, but I have serious doubts that peace and quiet are things that will come to me anytime soon. 

In summary, blah blah blah, life is hard, no one ever said suing your family would be easy, pity me, love me, send me your good vibes as always. Will let you know how things turn out— let’s see what fresh new hell will be unearthed today…

§Rainbows & Skeletons§

[Pt 2]  What I’ve Learned From Court Is… 

After fighting a bitter custody battle for my younger brother for a little over year now, these are the things I know to hold true about what it takes to bring a case to court…

-Literally no one cares. Yeah, you’re in the right (as far as you can see), you’re the victim, blah blah blah. And it doesn’t matter. People don’t want to hear about it, they most definitely don’t want to be involved while it’s going on, and even afterwards they’re not interested in the end result. People don’t want to know about your problems. 

-Things will stick in your craw. No matter how thick-skinned you are, some of the things people say will haunt you, whether it’s another lie or god-forbid the truth for once, you will find yourself six months, six years, six decades down the line wondering how someone could have the audacity to say some of the shit that gets said, and in open court to boot. 

-People will rake you over the coals, pretend nothing ever happened, ask you to make concessions for them, turn around and stab you in the back with whatever answer you give, whether you cave in or say no, then they’ll call you evil for being upset about it. 

-In a custody case, when your child/family member(s) is/are taken from you, you grieve that loss, and just as you grieve, so does everyone around you. You all feel sadness, anger, desperation, etc all in different ways and at different times. One of the most important things I’ve learned in all this is that my brother isn’t just my brother, he is also a son, a grandson, a nephew, etc and all these people— aunts, uncles, parents, grandparents, etc will and deserve to have their own emotions and their own grief, their own voice, and a way of sharing all of this in a way that they feel heard. Their suffering is just as valid as your own; don’t get mad at people for their desperation, their frustration, their hopelessness. Which brings me to my next point…

-Don’t get mad when people voice these emotions, either in confidence or in open court. Example: before what was supposed to be our final court date (which has now been pushed back to June) my oldest brother sent a message to my mother’s family being somewhat snippy, basically just looking for a reaction, and at the time I kind of flew off the handle about it because from a legal standpoint, I know better than to go spouting off to another party and stirring up trouble where there is none (that’s more of my mom’s deal anyhow). However, we are not law books and we do not live our lives in a courtroom— my brother is allowed to talk to his mother, to comment on all the crazy shit that has gone down, to be angry and to express himself, and to place blame. He is a human being with human emotions, and though it does not help our case out in front of a judge, it does not help him personally to keep everything bottled up and suffering in silence. A lot of people want to treat this as game, and in a way, you almost have to if it means getting what you want and need— but bear in mind that people are not pawns to be played.

§Rainbows & Skeletons§

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures..?

Tonight my mother yanked the phone out of my brother’s hand while I was talking to him and forced him out of the room he was in, then got on the line and asked me if I’d give her custody and drop my petition to the court, only to tell me I was “evil” when I said no, which hey— maybe I am at this point. I want what I want, I know what’s best, and making concessions wouldn’t do myself or my family (which does not include her) any favors, so fuck it— no, you can’t have custody!!! Now put my baby brother back on the phone and stop interrupting our conversations!!

Is this a sign of desperation or what?!

§Rainbows & Skeletons§