Well, here I am. People who know me love me whether they like it or not. It's a burden since I dislike most people. You can find My actual Life HERE. I have many fandoms, and many likes but I have yet to find passion in a past time. You are welcome as long as you behave.
I figure as long as STAN can live here, I can too. Here's round two.
I'm an evil, heinous, horrible person. I accept this about myself. I feel the need to not be crazy anymore, so I sent jordan a novel of text messages. I'm gonna post them here. I finally let the truth take hold and just went balls to the wall, holding nothing back about my theories as to why he left and how horribly he has treated me. I think he stopped reading them after the first one. It was really mean, but I don't care.
ME--
It sucks that you can run all over the city and be fun, but for the last 4 years we were together, you wouldn't leave the house. I don't understand you.
Jordan--
Don't try and make me feel guilty about having friends.
Me--
I don't care that you have friends, I'm trying to make the point that you're hurtful and neglectful. I wanted to share those friends with you, remember? Maybe not these specific ones, but you never invite me, and rather than introduce to me to people or have fun with me along you completely shut down and became a hermit, and I wonder if its due p the fact that you were ashamed of me, or thought that I wasn't the right kind of person for your friends or just not cool enough for them. It seems You became a shut in because you wanted nothing to do with my life, and didn't want me involved in yours.
Jordan--
No response
Me--
That one of the reasons what has happened hurts so much for me. You are the same person! You are the one I love. And somehow, without knowing it, I stifle and kill you inside to the point that you can't be with me. But instead of telling me, you lived in misery for years, evidentally, until I became miserable too from not being able to stop you from being miserable. Then you leave, no explanation, still to this day, no attempt at reconciliation, no you're an anvil around my neck and you make me want to die. Just I'm sorry. I'll see you later, and then you leave me behind like an old coffeetable in the old house while you move to the new. You made me love you, and that is the most heinous, hateful thing that has ever been done to me. You probably stopped reading the messages after the mean one, and that's okay. I'm not yesterday's newspaper, I'm your wife. The person you invited to share your life and then you shut me out of it.
Jordan--
NO RESPONSE
Me--
I'm not sure why this is so important to me at this moment in my life. But I'm getting worse, and I can do nothing at this point but be honest. You're callous.
Jordan--
NO RESPONSE
He's probably too busy being out with said friends to read what turned into a barrage of info. I typed until it stopped me, sent and then typed some more. It probably was delivered as like 15 texts. At this point, I don't care if I'm seen as crazy, I guess. I've had enough
EDIT--- I straight up requested a response a few hours later. The response I got was my rant is justified but that doesn't mean he has to like it. He didn't ignore them like I feared and he doesn't know what to say. Awesome. The government can neither confirm or deny the existence of American spies in the world. FUCK
I pick crazy and happy, I guess. Oh, wait...
I talked to my parents tonight. I am now and will forever be grateful that God bestowed me to these beautiful, wonderful people. Were it not for them, I would be a junky out on the street. They will make my rent payment in december, and I can stay in my house until then. So, during the next month and a half, I get to decided what I need and what goes in storage and move bit by bit to my parents house in a city an hour away where I know no one. But my dogs get to come, and I don't have to quit my awful job. I can go to school and work and then make some money and try and pay them back, which I know already they won't let me do. It will also allow me to get some savings back and pay down my credit cards.
Jordan thinks it's a great idea. Maybe due to it taking some of the guilt of my financial and emotional state are mostly his doing. Whatever. Why have I turned into a fucking basketcase? Again, Whatever.
Thank you all for being supportive. I love this community, even if I don't pay enough attention to it.
One of the things I'm not excited about? Leaving my neighborhood. I love my next door neighbors, and I live on a nice, quiet street. I have 3/4 of an acre in the fucking city, easy access to the major highways. I'm pretty comfortable in this house too. All my stuff fits in it. I know this decision is for the best, but I'm not happy about it, and there are cons.
I didn't work at all this week, well I worked 1.34 days. my paycheck is going to be ridiculously small, especially since I'm still behind on some things. Stuff builds up so quickly, and once one thing is taken care of, something else goes to shit and throws everything out of whack again...
I have a fully furnished 2 bedrooms and a den, not to mention 2 living room sets, the kitchen and my washer/dryer. none of that stuff is going to be able to go into my parents house, which is also a fully furnished 2 bedrooms and a den. I like my stuff, that why I have it. I guess I'll learn to live without it for a bit.
Blair and I are going to talk to the Junior college tomorrow. That is a good thing. Shit will come together, it'll be okay. I just need to suck it up, and stop looking for the negatives in a good thing.
Because I picture myself a wretched human being, I am feeling the need to share with my friends here the actual correspondence having taken place between myself and my spouse over the last few days.
ANYONE WHO KNOWS ME KNOWS THIS RATED R FOR LANGUAGE
Molly November 11 at 1:23am
My anxiety is getting worse, as is my crazy and my depression. You might have noticed. I miss you a lot. More than I let myself know sometimes, and while I had no dillusions about happily, I expected you to be my ever after. Which is also still my desperate hope. I wish you hadn't so solidly given up on us. I miss you. I am still not opposed to casually seeing you, or dating, if you will.
On to the text I was selishly going to inflict on you. I am not all that excited that Miriam is back in your circle of vision. I only met her once, and that was without you. I just always felt by the tone of the stories you would tell me that, had I not been in the way, she would have made more of a move for you. Perhaps she did and you didn't tell me, perhaps I'm paranoid. Well, there's no perhaps about the last one.
I've always been kind of intimidated by the idea of her. Perhaps that stems from the fact that you were hanging out with her for a couple of weeks before you ever mentioned her when the two of you met. Even when we were together, and I was actively your spouse, I did not have a right to say who you could or couldn't hang out with. That's not what I'm trying to do now, either. I am just in a place of zero self esteem at the moment and I am reliving my ever present fear of replacement and being forgettable.
I really hate that our circle of friends never intersect. I'm also not wild that your ring is broken. I secretly thought several times about getting you another. Even though you are in a different house and we don't talk often, we are still married. I'll be married to you for 100 years even if you don't live in my house, my city, or my state. But if that's the case, marriage is still something I would expect to be respected, and if you did, or do, want to see someone else, end us first. I'm babbling, which is one of the reasons I never got around to sending the text.
I'm not cut out to be friends with you. I try really hard. As I told you before, I knew from two weeks after I met you that I wanted to spend my life with you. I adore every part of you. You make me laugh, you know more about me than anyone on the face of the earth. I still want to share every part of my life with you, and I want to know what's going on in your life as well. I don't want to be a crazy ex. I really try hard not to. I miss sitting next to you though, snuggled up against you, and I miss kissing you. You're rather good at it, you know.
I'm pretty sure that any attempt I was making at not being the "crazy" is being shattered by this note. Somehow I'm not sorry I wrote it. I love you, and I have from the day I met you. Damn you for that.
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Husband November 11 at 6:02pm
i dont really know how to respond to this.
I dont really know how to respond to anything.
I hesitated to mention that i was hanging out with miriam again for (i think) obvious reasons (im not entirely sure why i mentioned it at all, honestly, except that i hate to lie). I know youve never been cool with her (and lord knows i wasnt cool with her for a long time), and she did have a thing for me before, though not now. I was never interested in her as anything more than a friend and someone to hang out with, then or now. Im not interested in seeing anyone, but it is nice to have friends, even shallow ones.
I'm so sorry that ive hurt you so deeply. I try to do right by you (as right as i can), but im not sure if i make things better or worse and I cant be the thing you need. I worry about you.
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Molly November 11 at 11:06pm
The fact that you weren't going to tell me is hurtful while her reappearance is merely an annoyance. It also is an example of my thoughts that you are leaving me out, cutting me out, and that you were being cryptic in your text about hanging out with "some people." You did that shit while we were together too. you kept me at arm's length and never allowed me to be a part of you. You may love (or have loved) me, but you weren't ready to share yourself or your life. You never gave us a chance before you gave up on me.
What do you mean by you try to do right by me? I'm not being accusatory, the remark confuses me. I hope above hopes it doesn't mean that you are being nice to me or hanging out with me out of a sense of honour or necessity. I want you to like to spend time with me.
I really wish I hadn't lost my first version of this reply. It was rather witty. But I lost it and I can't remember enough of it to piece it back together.
I was somewhat unreasonably harsh earlier as I was texting you, and for that I apologize. It's not that it isn't true, but my delivery was deliberately mean.
You're worry for me, while noteworthy, is laughable because you do nothing to show it or to address it. Frankly, I am worried about me too. How are you so collected? How are you so unaffected? It hurts to see that your life exists so easily without me. I am a selfish person, I know that about myself. I am also used to getting what I want, even if I work for it, I'm still spoiled. Neither of these is the point, nor are they the reason you are important to me. You loved me, and you made me feel loved. You asked me to marry you, and you stood with me and vowed that we would spend our lives together.
You loved me, I know you did. And you will "always care for me." If you don't love me, caring about me just seems so demeaning. I feel like it is pity rather than actual feelings, though I hope that is not true. I think the last year has been more full of "hope" for me than ever before. False though it may be.
I am so hurt and I am so angry, yet I cannot hate you or even dislike you. I love you, and it's not fair that my feelings, my opinions and the effort gets no consideration in the decision. How do you get to make a unilateral decision like that? You say you can't be the thing I need. What is it you think I need? I don't need a bread winner, I don't NEED much. I need you to love me and to show me some fucking affection. If you can't love me, then you should have realized that long ago, and fuck you for taking me along on that ride. You keep saying you're sorry, but sorry doesn't fill the parts of me that are missing because I gave them to you.
I am not afraid of being alone. I am afraid of being without you. You sell yourself short. You are the most important person or thing to ever enter my life. It's not meant to be a burden or give you pressure. I don't want you to be miserable, I want good things for you and for you to be happy. I want to be part of that happiness, as I said, I'm a selfish girl---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To which I have yet to get a response because he doesn't have internet. I hate everything and I am going to go live with penguins in antarctica
Sooooooo, my last post was all whiny. My dr increased my dosage on my meds. I think it's better... I think. In the doldrums of my whininess, I told my parents that if it weren't for my dogs, I would ask if I could quit my horrible job and move back into their house. It was strictly in passing and out of pure frustration. I never considered it a realistic possibility, but my parents have put a lot of thought into it over the last week. Yesterday my parents said that if I really wanted or needed to, I could do just that. The conditions being I go back to school and my dogs stay outside if no one is home. These are easy and totally reasonable conditions that I would have problem adhering to.
Why am I hesitant? It feels like I would be taking a big step back in my life. I moved out at 17 and have never had to move back in. I would be moving to a town I've never lived in and do not know anyone that is an hour away from my current city and my estranged spouse with whom I am more than willing to work things out with, if he were able to grow the fuck up.
For some reason, it is just frightening to me, and I don't know why. It's the ideal I wanted, but faced with the reality of an ideal, it's petrifying. give up and start over? Muddle through this until something gets better... IF something gets better?
Gawd, I'm whining again!! my life isn't so terrible! I am not abused or starving. I just have a loathsome job and a stupid husband who can't recognise things right in front of him. there are so many other things that could be so much worse, not that I want that, I'm just saying!
I am feeling the need to word vomit. I have been thinking this through for about an hour and a half; what I want to bitch about, whether I should even write it, if I should let it be published to where anyone, everyone or no one can see it. At the point that I am typing this, I still haven't decided who may or may not get to read these ramblings.
I am a self-reliant person, and my shit is none of your business. I waffle back and forth between spilling my guts to anyone and holding everything in. I'm so angry, all the time, and I will soon be 30 and I feel like a horribly underwhelming waste of potential and air. I dropped out of college because I was aimlessly wasting money towards no particular goal. I have literally put on 100 pounds since high school graduation and I HATE my job. I am also starting to dislike the company I work for. For my entire tenure at my job, I at least respected the company. Holy Shit, it seems like over the last year, people sitting in offices in fucking Oregon have been putting a lot of effort into making me and hundreds of other people miserable for 40 hours a week, at least. Not to mention the fucking customers who tell me everyday that I'm stupid, I'm a bitch, I'm being unfair, they hope I die or, my personal favorite, Jesus hates me. Fuck those bitches.
My weight gain has mostly been recent. I weigh more now than I did when the week I had a baby. I had a baby that many people may or may not know about. We had a beautiful baby that we gave up to a wonderful, loving couple. It's a decision that I have never regretted, but I am curious how things would be if he were here. His life is much better than any life I could have helped provide for him. But back to the weight gain, I watched the suicide weight come and go. As the emo teen I was, I always said that if I reached a certain point, I just die. Well, I'm sure my parents are glad to know that I'm too chicken shit to ACTUALLY off myself. But at the weight of 265 pounds, find solace in the fact that it would be hard to hoist myself off the ground and hanging ropes would probably snap. Yes, I'm guilty of self-depreciating "humor." I'm fat because I drink too much soda and I am chained to a fucking desk everyday with my goddamn headset. Then, once I'm not at work, I'm too lazy or I feel too much like shit to do anything about being fat.
My best friend asked if I was coming to my reunion this weekend. There's no way in hell. Why? I'm too goddamned ashamed of myself. I work in a menial service job. I dropped out of college. I'm fat. I married the man of my dreams, who decided that he loves me, but he can't be with me and moved out. Not to mention, the current center of my universe is a job that I would rather wake up and be scourged instead of go to on a daily basis. But hey, getting fat got me nice boobs. There is an upside to all this! What was I thinking?
I have no self esteem, and I can barely force myself to be seen in public. I am too busy hating things to be able to fix anything. I'm not writing for responses, I'm not writing for pity. I have no idea who will or will not read this, nor do I care. If your name was included in those who can see this, it's because at some point, you made me feel cared about, and I care enough to let you see my dirty laundry.
