Secrets and Lies

I have had brief moments in the last few days of being “Me” again. The issue is- what me? Or who am I really?

Oh I know this sounds very cliche, the “finding yourself’ bullshit, but I really don’t give a shit, the truth is the truth as you see it. But then the truth is a matter of interpretation, after all history books are written on the views of  how one ‘sees’ things.

So many lies. So many secrets, told to me, telling myself. That is the worst, the lies you tell yourself. But maybe, just maybe the lies are some sort of built in mechanism in the human psyche, some sort of coping mechanism so we don’t go totally bat shit crazy. Funny how easy we can adjust to the lies we tell ourselves but are so hurt by the lies told to us from another. Especially if that person proclaims to love you.

Worse are the secrets- do they think I am stupid? No, but they know I will just accept it, I always have. Why? Now that is the million dollar question, hopefully when I find the answer I will be able to break the habit of ‘putting up with bullshit!’

Somewhere in that dark spot, do I believe I deserve it? Karma? More and more I am wondering if  ‘love’ and ‘happiness’ are just things we hope for so that there is some reason for us to continue each day. More lies?

This blog for example, is a secret. No one knows who I am, and I worry that they will find me out, that they will recognize my writing style.  I worry because than it will need to stop and the door to discovering the truth will stop. After all I am famous don’t you know?

Famous, another lie. So I’ve written a few books, big deal, Stephen King is famous, Nora Roberts is famous, I am just a girl that wrote a few books and sold a few as well. Lucky me I sold some, but that doesn’t make me famous, doesn’t make me a household name. Image. All it is is an image of smoke and mirrors, a magician’s trick. Influence and really good promotional crap to make people think I am famous.

I worry that I will hurt someone’s feelings, or that my life will be ripped apart and I will never be able to mend it.  I worry about a lot of things. Like how much I have failed the ones I love, and how much I have failed myself. I worry because I am not sure if it will ever, ever get better. If those moments of good will always be overpowered and bullied by the self doubt.  Even as I write this I am thinking maybe one day this journal will be discovered and I will be on Oprah or some shit. Sad really, that I want to be someone I am not so bad that even in my journey to discover the truth I am leaning towards old habits. Such a fraud!

Justification. I am good at that, lies and excuses wrapped up in  pretty packaging paper.  Truth?  I am not putting on a few pounds of ‘swollen’ water retention, I am FAT `again` and fuck me if I didn’t promise myself I would never be fat again, be that pathetic scared no confident, put up with everyones’ bullshit kind-a girl- but here I am.

Here I am listening to the dark coldness in me again, I thought I killed it, I thought I took a gun and shot it to a million pieces, but I guess there was a fragment left behind, and that fragment, the sneaky bastard grew and grew without me noticing until it was too late. My greatest fear? That it is too late, that I don’t have the strength or power to change it, that I have given up the fight. See- self lies are better, a self lie is “I can do this” but the truth is I just don’t know if I can.

The guy I am with currently, he is full of lies and secrets. He always gets caught, swears he is sorry, and you know what? I truly think he is, he has his own image issues to deal with, but that doesn’t make it any less painful. He never goes the distance, never acts on it- never fully ‘cheats’ but always walks the line, always is looking like he needs to improve his station in life, and part of the improvement is some super-model girlfriend.  Now hows that for a shot in the teeth? When I am already feeling like a fat ugly old hag! But the truth is that’s my issue, my hang up. Like a rabid dog I need to attack, blame and generally act like a bat shit crazy person. Mostly towards myself.  Why myself, because I do put up with it, because even now I am making excuses, for him, and more for me, because the truth would just be to pathetic to even comprehend.

Thing is, rabies has a cure. You can vaccinate your pets for that shit, and if you do get contaminated you can undergo treatment.

I suppose this blog is my treatment center, I am getting vaccinated with truth. No matter how painful, I need to stop telling myself lies. I need to be proud of who I am and be the best ‘me’ I can. I use to look at the skinny pretty woman and say, I want to be her, but I have come to realize that what I want is to be a healthy, fit and the best version of me possible.

Getting there is the hard part. It’s easier to dream of a magic wand transforming me into a  Shakira look-a-like, to stay in some sort of dream world. Maybe that is what makes me a good writer, I have a damn good imagination.

 

 

 

 

Investment

In my last blog posting….”blog” does not see exactly correct here, lets say “open journal’

Open because it is in a public forum, of course that would mean someone might read it- he he, and I am not expecting that, I think in a world of millions of blogs and websites I am safe writing this and never having another reader.

LOL- okay back to my point, in my last posting I wrote about my intentions to finish something and as I wrote I realized the reason why I didn’t. Why I quit. In my head and heart I believed that if I quit, than that dark spot in me that still would sink it’s fangs in me couldn’t be proved right. If I didn’t finish the project because it wasn’t turning out like the picture, or the image in my head, than that ugly voice couldn’t whisper ‘see, I told you- who do you think you are?”

Messed up I agree. It took me a little while to process that, and for me to face that truth. Took longer to cut myself some slack.

I still haven’t ‘finished’ anything, and I quit my job, lol- ironic I know, but I quit my job because I realized I put myself in a toxic environment on purpose, again, thus giving me a reason to quit,I am very good at self-justification. I haven’t finished a project yet because I know I’m not ready.

Both healthy choices. A step forward.

Which brought up “investment”

I looked around my place yesterday, really looked. It is a crappy apartment, with crappy furniture, there is only one piece of furniture in the entire place I could be proud of. The walls are bare, or shit-asss cheap  crap are hung on the walls.

I looked at the guy I am with, really looked. That ‘story’ is a separate posting or ten…and realized he doesn’t invest in the apartment, he only invests in us when he thinks he has too. He’d rather invest in HIM, things that make his personal image look good on the outside, covering up the insecurities on the inside, the clothes, the shoes, the right booze, the right…whatever…. and I was pissed.

Pissed- now that seems to be my normal state of mind, and I wonder, was I ever happy? Is happiness a myth? A trick?

But to be fair, and to be brutally honest with myself which is what this is all about, I had to ask myself- what do I invest in? Books that I never read? Cheap fashion jewelry?  Materials for crafts I never finish? FarmVille 2?

Do I invest in my health?  No Do I invest in my dreams? No- hell I don’t even know if I have any dreams anymore! Do I invest in making the apartment nicer? No- Half the time I can’t even find the motivation to clean it! I blame being sick, being exhausted, being stressed, all very true, not just ‘excuses- but “justifications”- reasons for me to do what I do instead of facing the truth. Do I invest in the relationship? Not anymore, the hurt is too much, the cheating and the lies. The pretending, His-mine.

Do I invest my money wisely? No. I spend it on the disposable, temporary items, none of them are permanent- because I am always waiting. Waiting for someone or something to come rescue me. Waiting for answers, waiting for a saviour, waiting for someone to say “It’s going to be okay- and actually MEAN it!”

I am 49 years old and I have never had an orgasim. {With someone else}  Never had a true friend, never held unto happiness for more than a few minutes at a time.

You know what I realized? I am so quick to blame someone else. I am always waiting….waiting…and guess what? That saviour is ME. It is the person looking in the mirror! If I could invest in that person, forgive that person, start to like that person, maybe my waiting would be over.

I’m scared. I tried before, and I quit. I don’t think I can handle another set back. More than my fear is the realization of time passing me by. I can’t be 20 again, or even 30. Will I be 59-69-79 and still be waiting? Except by than the only thing that I would be waiting for is death, the ultimate “quit”

-sigh- that’s pretty grim.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall–it’s going to be okay!”

Right?

The road to hell

There is an old saying that says ” The road to hell is paved with good intentions” I tried to see where this saying originated, and there is a debate between  Saint Bernard of Clairvaux who wrote (c. 1150), “L’enfer est plein de bonnes volontés et désirs” (hell is full of good wishes and desires); Virgil’s Aeneid: “facilis descensus Averno (It is easy to go to hell) or was it Samuel Johnson as so many believe?

No matter who said it, the meaning is what is important, at least in my case.  I have the intention to undertake good actions but nevertheless fail to follow though, something always seems to hold me back. Of course some say that this inaction is simply procrastination, laziness or some other subversive vice. But I call bullshit, I think it is much deeper than that.

I use to think it was because I would get bored easily. I would have a fire in my belly, be all gung-ho and ready to embark on the new adventure, be it a craft, something new to learn or a career, I become so absorbed it the beginning, but somewhere along the way I become frustrated and angry and just throw up my hands in defeat. My home is littered with half done projects; I tell myself I am going to finish it, that I am going to cross that fucking finish line and stick it out. But I don’t.

I will learn all there is to learn, I will give it my all-but after a few months in, I am ready to move on to something else. The fire dies, I am not motivated, it’s not working out the way I planned, the way it should.

Laziness? I don’t think so, I truly try, believe I am going to finish, my intent is always to do so. That this time; this time I will do it. I will be happy and satisfied, I will NOT sabotage myself, I will finish.

The problem is in my head the result is different, in my heart and head I see the end result, I see the skirt I want to sew, or the garden I want to make, I thought I made a good choice this time with where I am working, that this JOB, will be different.

But reality is very different from my vsion. I soon realize I am back in the same dysfunctional environment career wise,  I see that once again that hobby isn’t holding my attention or it doesn’t feel right. Once again I scrap it, or don’t finish it, or move on to the next thing.

I am embarrassed because I failed, I failed myself again and the feelings of uselessness, the feeling of  ‘Why the fuck can’t you ever do anything right!’ hit me and I can’t deal with it, so I can push it aside.

Why do I let that negative self talk sabotage me?  Why don’t I pay attention to the red flags before I take that job? Why? Because in my messed up head I hear the words of my X ; who was abusive, mentally, emotionally and physically. He would always say “Who do you think you are? You’re white trash and you think you can out do me? You think you can…”

I know it is bullshit, I know he was a whack job that was insecure because I was smarter, and one day would figure out that he was an abusive asshole, I know it  and I try to fight it, sometimes I don’t even realize it is happening, or why it’s happening. Than I just get pissed off, pissed off that I have failed myself on so many levels. I tell myself I am not the victim, I tell myself to FIGHT, I tell myself NOT to let him win, or have any control over me. I believe in my heart and soul that I have won, that I know longer believe that bullshit but I guess I do, I guess deep down it is still there and I don’t know how to get rid of it, I let myself down again and I slip deeper into the cold dark cave.

So why do I give up? Because when it doesn’t go right, I think- he was right, and in my spirit, I can’t allow him to be right. I know that is messed up, I know if I just pay attention to the signs or finish that I WIN, but I can’t. I don’t know how.

“My project”- this journey is my final attempt to move forward and finally kill that darkness inside me.

Happiness is not always a “choice”! What a lie that is!!  I choose to be happy, I deserve to be happy, I WANT to be happy. I’ve taken the steps towards happiness, yet here I am, all over again…

Broken

 

 

The Project

This is my first posting. I’ve decided to write this blog as: anonymous. I can tell myself it is protect the innocent, or the guilty for that matter, but the truth is I am protecting me. I am embarrased. You see I am a MESS, a total wreck, emotionally, mentally and physically. Too embarrassed to write the truth under my real name because to do so would expose me as the fraud I am.

You see, out there in the REAL world, I wear many masks, I come across as being strong, of having it together, but that is far from the truth.

What is the truth? That is what I am hoping to discover. Who the fuck am I anyway? The cliche of “finding yourself”….am I? Finding myself I mean? Which self? The old me, the new me, the pretend me? Me version 3.0?

So, I am calling this “The Project” and the truth. The truth is Life Isn’t Fair. Here I am in my forties and I am finally coming to realize that life really isn’t fair.

Where did it begin? That ultimate excuse, that amazing scapegoat of “That’s Not fair!” We as a society cling to it at an early age, yet all the signs point in the complete opposite direction.

That one is prettier, that one is smarter, that one is richer, that one….and I whine, I whine “that’s not fair!”

I didn’t even realize I was doing it. Not so much out-loud; but certainly in my behaviour. Every single time I consciously or subconsciously sabotage myself.

Hard pill to swallow, that life isn’t fair, and that maybe you will never be beautiful no matter how hard we try, never to be petite, never be young again….and god help me even as I write this it hurts, maybe I will never be ‘sexy’ again, or worse, maybe I was never sexy.

I want to scream and yell and blame society, after all you told me if I try I can be anything. You told me if I don’t give up my dreams will come true. You LIED. You are a fucking liar.

Because I HAVE been trying. I’ve tried and tried. That is the worst part, if I haven’t tried than I get it, after all you reap what you sow right?

Oh there have been moments, moments where I appear to be successful, to have it together, to be skinny, to be confident and think YES- yes I did it. Sometimes those moments are for a year, for a week, for a day….but then it happens, it always seems to happen.

Just when I think I have defeated that little fucker, that dark spot in the pit of my stomach it comes back. Sneaky like that, little cunt!

Yes, I used the “c” word. And yes I am angry as hell and this blog will bare witness to all my emotions.

I wear the masks very well, or at least I think I do. But maybe like the picture above, I am a fish in a bowl. Not really tricking anyone at all. Only myself.

I may post 10 times a day, I may post once a month- I have no idea, I only know I need to get it out, all this ‘stuff’ inside me.

You will want to judge me as you read this, I get that, after all don’t we all Judge, even if we trick ourselves into believing we are better than that? Some of you won’t believe that I am writing this for me, after all i MUST want the attention that is why I am doing it in a public forum such as a blog. Some of you will want to “fix” me- you will think you have the answer, drugs, God, if only I did this, or that. Fixing is what we try to do to make ourselves needed.

But here is the truth- don’t try and fix me, I need to FIX myself. I need to discover the truth, I need to stop using the excuse of “that’s not fair”

Judge me as you will, but you don’t know me, and I decide to do this project in a public forum because as alone as I feel, maybe, just maybe there is someone out there that is as fucked up as I am, and by reading this and seeing the struggles, and hopefully the accomplishments that they realize that they aren’t alone.

And see that…life isn’t fair, and I need to get use it, but more importantly I need to come to terms with how to deal with it, and deal with that dark spot in the pit of my stomach…once and for all.

PS- Yes, I am sure there will be spelling mistakes, grammar issues..etc. etc…. deal with it.