I’m on my balcony right now windows open, nice breeze today, it’s lovely. Theres a couple sitting on the wall of the river below, madly in lust with one another and I kinda wanna fling myself to my death while I smile for them. It’s adorable and sweet and the body language from up here is sickeningly magical. The rest of the world is non existent to them, all the people walking by, the cars.

They are young, he hardly knows how to touch a woman you can tell, his hands are awkward and slightly off standish, but he’s touching her, and there in lies the success. Her smile is one of those that you know will end in heartbreak but for now it’s the kind that could light up a room. Fucking adorable.

Anyhow back to flinging myself off balconies, it’s a consideration. Not in a dramatic way. I promise, I’d put on Eye Of the Tiger and a cape or something, or hell theres a rug in here….magic carpet ride bitches…they do sell the bellydancing coustumes in the market, I really could go all out… I’m actually just getting fucking tired of myself. It’s gotten worse over the last couple of months. There are so many things I’d like to scream at so many people. This is NOT a cry for help, really, it’s just helpful for me to write down my bullshit. It keeps me honest. And frankly if you’ve never considered eating a bullet, go fuck yourself, your life is amazing, stop reading this you wont get it anyway. 

I used to be much closer with my husband. Successfully managed to push him away over the last few months as well. It’s awesome. I need him more than ever. To his credit he’s trying. Theres shit in my head telling me that he’s only keeping me around because he feels bad for me though. I can’t bring myself to tell you guys what exactly I’m going through, what triggered me to stop drinking, what triggered my therapy and PTSD relapse. But it’s destroying and my family.

Maybe I am making progress because the amount of rage I feel at some moments is not safe. I’ve never been angry before. Historically I’m the dumb motherfucker you can close the door on and I’ll just smile and apologize for you. Thought about buying plane tickets to go light certain peoples homes on fire lately tho…AFTER I nail the doors shut.

But I’m not angry AT them, not even. That ship sail long ago. I’m angry that I cannot be fucking happy right now. Angry that they took that from me when I was too young to do anything about it. Angry that I’ve moved way past surviving in life but in my head I cannot. Angry that I’ve never had a normal relationship and I’m 31 years old. (and I swear to god anyone that tells me there is no such thing as normal in this situation can fuck off, you don’t know what you are talking about, people make movies about the kind of childhood I had) Angry that I don’t get to enjoy being close to my kids in a meaningful way like they need. Angry that my husband looks at me like a fucking disease, and I don’t blame him. He loves me, but what the fuck is he supposed to do? He’s stood by this for 10 years and I give almost nothing. Angry that I have so much love in me, so much good, so many wonderful things, so many moments of happiness that i don’t know how to have.

And I don’t give a flying fuck how it sounds it’s not fair. I’ve struggled my entire life to get away from it. To create a perfect life. To attain the things I want. Just to be happy. I have two kids, a house, animals, two nice vehicles, I’m in fucking Europe right now, a life long dream. NONE of this ever should have been possible. None of it. I should be dead, cracked out, in jail, or absolute best case scenario a welfare queen. But I’m not, I dreamed, I escaped, I always dreamed and escaped but it seems I cannot ever fucking escape it. It steals my joy.

The fact that this followed me around the world has pushed me to a point of no return. I am angry and sad and I feel slightly crazy if truth be told. And I’m sure if you asked my husband right now he may tell you I am slightly cray right now.

This so seriously is not about fucking pity. I hate pity. Pity didn’t get me where I am. Pity is for weak people. I just want to understand why I cannot be happy. My therapist gave me the smallest sliver of hope the very first day I saw her when she flippantly said “well thats totally normal, I wouldn’t expect someone like you to be happy”. Ok, while I want to be happy, at least maybe they understand why and can fucking fix it, give me the tools to fix it. I swear to god I will burn down houses to a Madonna songs if it sets my soul free. I don’t care. I’m committed, on a crazy level. I didn’t come this far in life to let them win after all. I just hope at this point the couple people I have that I love are there with me on the other side. I need it not to take that too.