Life Is My Pet Peeve

I've started reading You are a Badass blah blah blah long ass title. Already I'm thinking, "nah." What I've found is that all self-help books have the same message. I know I'm not a winner, but I can't get on board with this stuff. Isn't that sad? I'm losing at life, but not willing to get into the hippie new age stuff being sold in the self-help world. I don't know what I'm doing. I have known and tried to explain to several people that I have no passions in life. Absolutely nothing. I have done everything I EVER wanted to do in this life and way more that I didn't want to do. Now what do I do? Just keep trucking along, mindlessly? How??? That is all. That is all I've been thinking about for the past few days. I almost didn't come back at all, but I'm trying not to be a quitter.

This is my life now.  I met up with this guy to get some appetizers today. I don't do the under-one-to-get-over-the-last thing. However, I will try to occupy my damn time. The biggest issue: I've known from the beginning that I don't like him. He has rigid gender role ideas and a condescending attitude. At least I have something to talk about if that's any consolation. Nope, it's not. Anyway, we went to eat and he had the same attitude I remembered from our last shared meal, a month and a half ago. The one thing that threw me all the way off was that he doesn't believe in the single until you're married idea. Only man I've ever seen look totally flummoxed at the thought. He was so far in the negative of cool points with me that that one point didn't change his standing, though. Aside: I can't think of a nickname for him. He probably won't be around very long so I'm not too pressed about it. Lol. He walked me to my car and argued about h...

Sometimes my brain likes to fuck with me in my sleep. It's a transference of emotions except from my dreams. I assume most people's dreams only linger with them for a few seconds after waking. My dreams are the stuff of a depressive's nightmares. Seriously. My dreams are probably the reason for the saying: You must've woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Sometimes I have actual nightmares. Someone is trying to kill me or I'm trying to kill them, makes up approximately 90% of my dreams. The other 10% is emotional bullshit. Normally I'm some weird version of myself in my dreams, but this time I was me with no additives. In this dream, I was mourning the loss of The Narcoleptic all over again. Don't most things look better after getting rest? Not worse, right? Isn't that why people say, "Get some rest. Things will look better in the morning." As a pick me up I drove to get some food. Guess what happened? There was a torrential downpour. I hate...

Before I get into this, I just want to say that I totally think that whoever is reading this will find the love they want in this lifetime. I really do. Ok. Well, maybe not all of you, unfortunately, but a good amount of you. I'm always more optimistic about other people's futures than I am about my own. History has proven to me that I'm too much of an outlier to make it work with someone. You, however? You got it made in the shade. :) Also, I'm not saying monogamy is the right way for everyone. Your relationship is yours to tweak as you and your partner(s) see fit. I am only talking about people (men. what can I say?) who tell falsehoods so as to trick people into making a decision based upon a lie. Those fuckfaces. Onto the things I want to get into. I always say it's a man's world because for the most part it really and truly is. Almost anything the average man desires he can get when it comes to the love of a woman and sex, at the very least. I'm a ...

Unhelpful tips and coping techniques  for the heartbroken.   Cry, cry, cry Feel the despair Ruminate Listen to audiobooks Read Watch movies Visit friends Talk to bff every night before bed Journal Drink water Exercise Eat at home more often Take time off work Do NOT initiate contact The first three fucking suck for obvious reasons, but unfortunately, if you're heartbroken that means you cared and there's no avoiding the pain. Believe me, I tried to figure out a way which is why I did all the rest on the list except the last one. Smh.  I know myself and my feelings fairly well, so I had never planned to take any dude seriously until we were in it for years. I was duped. Anyway, one of my therapists gave me a pamphlet on how to cope with grief and loss. I tried everything. I bought a journal specific for this epoch and it's damn near full. I started the couch to 5k program on the treadmill. I stopped taking my sleeping pills because my subconscious was b...

I cannot stand an "if you're such a fan, then tell me..." looking ass person. Who the fuck are you to interrogate me about my choice of entertainment? Who are you, that I have to prove myself worthy of liking this entertainer? Also, to answer this dumb ass meme's question and whoever created this shit: Brenda's Got a Baby. I Get Around. That's Why They Call You Bitch, America's Most Wanted. So, fuck you. I listened to the All Eyes on Me Album (2 discs) like a close family member wrote that shit. However, I do NOT go around quizzing folk because of my love of Tupac. I don't care if you started liking him once you saw this meme or if you've liked him since he had hair. Or shit, if you only liked one song of his from the soundtrack of some D rated movie. Ppl are always up to some shit that doesn't involve minding their own fucking business. One time, The Narcoleptic, who happens to be a part time dj, and I were talking and I asked what song c...

I hate niceties. Absolutely. As a child, this would get me in more trouble than anything else. As talkative and ruminative (that is now a word, per my say so) as I am, I hate extraneous shit. Extraneous is relative, though. Anyway, not saying good morning, in the fucking morning, was always met with "did I sleep with you last night?" Even now, I don't know what the fuck that means. I would prefer someone who I slept with to speak to me before anyone else. That's for certain. Anyway, I don't like mornings and I don't like talking in the morning so good morning is a double whammy. I guess the biggest issue I have is that people seem to prefer the show of a thing as opposed to the thing. That bothers me more than niceties. Like the time the POTUS was in Saudi Arabia or wherever and people were up in arms that he wore linen pants to a funeral. It's a million got damn degrees and, because of the show people require, dressing for the weather is seen as disrespe...

When I say, " A real man that takes real life real seriously" I don't mean someone who doesn't have a sense of humor or takes everything too seriously. I only mean I want someone to act like they know that some things shouldn't be taken lightly. For example, one day I went into a fish and chicken grill place and this guy, I'm assuming, found me attractive and his pick up line was, " So, what are you buying me to eat?" See how he blew his chance? Maybe you don't. In my mind here is a man, in the same fucking restaurant as me, not hesitating to, essentially, beg. You already want something from me before I even know you. Even if they're joking, I think it speaks to their character. Now, I'm not a tightwad by any means, but I know that many women have gotten sucked into paying for men and I'm not here for it. I'm not here for that at all. Of course, I will buy random gifts and food throughout a relationship, but it must be known that...

I spent my day on domestic shit, mostly. Washing and folding clothes. Mundane things. Since the depression set in I haven't really washed: clothes or my ass. I have found that going 3 days without a shower is totally doable. I'm now wondering why I used to shower daily. I have, however, been exercising. Any break up tip I could find, I have done. Anyway, so after laundry and exercise I'm quite tired. Today my thoughts have circled around the few ideas that I hold dear to my heart. A few of them are as follows: 1. Getting to know one another is the leading cause of separation. 2. I need a real man who takes real life real seriously. 3. I'm not just looking for a good man, but a particular man. I will explain numbers 2 and 3 further because being stated baldly that way they seem a bit weird. I will expound maybe tomorrow.

I went to the club as I mentioned I might in the previous post. I managed to convince myself that I would have a good time. So, when I got there I made sure to enjoy the music and the dance floor, whether empty or not. In comes mistake 5 billion 735 I have made since my inception. Let's call him The Photographer/ Rapist . Background: Whenever I think about how many people come in contact with their rapist after the incident and have to exchange niceties with them, I become physically ill. The fact that I later conceded the point that I had agreed to have sex with  my rapist makes me want to rip my head off and puke down my own throat. Here's what happened. I was "talking" to this guy who offered me, um, cunnilingus, in exchange for "nothing." Holy shit! Who isn't down for that? I made sure I had the terms of the contract correct so as not to be fooled later. Only to have a fooling attempted later. Before he got to my house I told him he didn't ...

A close friend of mine has a birthday coming up. She has decided to go to the club tonight. Normally, I would love the club, but since my friends all have kids they have basically turned me into hermits, My friends never want to go anywhere or do anything unless it's kid and/or church related. At this point, I haven't been out in a while and can't get excited about it. Especially since this friend is newly pregnant. I woke up today full of lethargy. Not a good sign when I have any impending engagements to attend. I didn't prep my hair yesterday because I thought I would be fine doing it today. However, I didn't expect to spend the night dreaming about The Narcoleptic and waking up still fatigued and missing him like crazy. So, I had to push past that so that I could get up, eat, then wrangle this hair into some type of order.  Now I'm sitting under the hair dryer wondering if it's worth my efforts. I mean, really? More than likely I'm not going to meet ...

I went to see Birth of a Nation which was pretty good as far as slave movies go. I get so violent in my head while watching those type of movies. I'm all Chucky from Child's Play I, like, "Kill him! Strangle him!" In real life, I'm softer than the Jersey Knit Sheets I buy. Anyway, so the self-help bitch done got me again. The new thing is a guy I call Heavy Chevy . A little background on HC. I used to talk to him last century and while I was talking to him his GIRLFRIEND found out and emailed me. His having a girlfriend was news to me and I actually thought she was someone playing with me. Har-de-har-har-the-fuck-not. So, I found out he had a girlfriend with whom he was actually living. I found that to be even more astounding because he used to spend most of his off nights with me. (We both worked overnight at the time.) So, after the knock-down-drag-out (not really), we parted ways with harsh words floating in the dust. Fast forward to approximately 3 years ...

Let's back up for a bit, ok? I know I said The Narcoleptic was the reason for this depressive episode, which is mostly true. However, there are a few other factors. Such as, I have been working the same job for 7 years and I hate it. Not only do I hate it, but I think it's killing me slowly. My bestie is convinced that it is, actually. I work in customer service for a financial institution and when I say nothing will piss you off more than speaking with other humans about mismanaging their money, please believe me. The other thing is that, in general, I dislike people. Too much xenophobia, homophobia, sexism, and misogyny. I was raised by wolves and since that means I was mostly left to my own devices, my own devices lent itself to me minding my own business and just being a good enough human without demeaning and devaluing others. Anyway, so I hate this job and I spend the majority of my time alone, worrying. What was the biggest sticking point before The Narcoleptic? Dying a...

I think I was a bit hasty promising to write every day. Of course, there is no one here to hold me to my promise, but I'm one of those "my word is bond" type of people. I'm the type to be on my way to your house for a party, but tell you I'm not sure if I'm coming because sometimes I lose the will to live halfway to my destination and decide to turn around. That being said, I like to make the least amount of promises so that I can to avoid the guilt and self-loathing later. Another reason I should not have said 30 consecuitve days because I can't think of anything remotely interesting to talk about at this time. When I was (briefly) full of fire and hatred I had all types of thoughts and feelings rolling around in my pea brain, but now? Nothing. Well, not much anyway. I mean, yes, I am a man-hating fire breathing amazon bitch, but does anyone want to read about that shit every day? Especially since I'm just spewing my hateful thoughts about men and no...

Trying not to break my streak. I said every day.  I let this day get away from me, but I wrote these lines before midnight! More when I get home.

So, I finished the book Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway. I decided to rope my best friend into working through the different programs, steps, or whatever the shit's called. One of the items was to give love since that is the whole purpose of our lives (as far as the author's concerned). I'm trying to buy into it. I'm trying to fight for this shitty life, still. She told me to contact current and past people who've had any significance in my life and tell them why I'm thankful for what they taught me. I wrote The Narcoleptic with my list of things. She also said if you're feeling resentful also tell them you wish them well in life. From the outset, I had a problem with that stipulation. There are some people who, for varying reasons, I do NOT wish well. He is one of them. I said it anyway, in the spirit of bettering myself. He responded that he wishes me well too. That sent me spiraling back down the rabbit hole of "he's never coming back, he doesn...

I'm starting early today. I started out thinking about The Narcoleptic which I will admit is not the best way to start one's day when one has been dumped by the aforementioned. Rejection digs deep and worms its way into your psyche. BUT. Even though I am slightly suicidal and depressed, I am trying to "fight for my shitty life." Trying, trying, trying. My therapist has recommended two books to me: Feel the fear and Do it Anyway and Easier Than You Think. I've completely read Easier Than You Think, but my therapist is making me read it again two chapters per day. I guess she is the expert and has her reasons, but she hasn't yet revealed the reasoning behind her daily requirement. I was having a hard time getting into the Feel the Fear book, because it seemed way too hokey. I borrowed it from the library while I waited for it to come in the mail. That is a slight stretch of the truth, actually. I didn't order the book until today. I only ordered it today in...

So, here's what happened. I was "dating" this guy. Of fucking course, it starts with a guy. Well, this depressive episode did, anyway. So, I was unceremoniously dumped. Because I have attachment and abandonment issues, this little foray into the land of the dumped put my whole life into a tailspin . That's right. Some guy had the chance to knock my shitty world off its fucking axis and right on its ass in a classic example of out of the damn frying pan into the even more painful and upsetting fire. Previously, I had managed to avoid this exact situation by not caring about guys and also by being a glorified hermit. I had been here once before about a decade ago. After that instance, I knew my lack of coping strategies and overall disgust with the male species  did not pair well with getting overly invested in a gentlemen caller. Until this jackass who, henceforth, shall be known as The Narcoleptic . The Narcoleptic came out of no where and made me thin...

So, I've decided to start over. This will be a blog about shit I hate, including this bullshit ass life I'm living. I'm lazy, depressed, and ready for the end. I am going to try to document my feelings everyday for 30 days. I could've started on October 1st, but I didn't. So what? Ready to explore the depths of despair with me? Ok. Let's go. Call me Nikki.