Warning: Ranting and selfishness are below. Sorry. Had to let it out. This is the most shameful blog post ever and I feel bad about it already. If you want to smack me after this, I don’t blame you. Lucky for me I’ll be too damn high to feel it.
Today was a terrible fucking day.
Okay, so there I was, determined to start writing again.
And, I’m right-handed.
And my MS has been getting worse.
…I’m not addressing it at the moment because I have a hard enough time getting out of bed. Because of depression. Because of anxiety. Because of memories.
I’m there, trying to write something new. It’s been a long time since I wrote a new poem. Well, by a long time I mean since November 22nd. About that. Sometime around that.
I sit there and I can’t read my own handwriting. And I can’t think straight. I can’t hold a solid train of thought of 3 lines without going back and re-reading what I just wrote. I forget the rhythm I was in. I can’t keep it up. And I wasn’t on drugs or sleep deprived. I have less of a hard time typing. But I can’t type poetry as it comes. That is not how I work. I did keep trying. I produced shit. I’ll post it anyway. It’s all about cutting and ink. (Posted those today. Go look on my page to read all about me being made of ink.)
This brings me into the second thing. I’m sitting here blasting Halsey and eating butternut squash ravioli not giving a rotten fuck about the calories of them or how loud my music. My fucking cunt of a cousin doesn’t shut the fuck up about her damn wedding for five fucking seconds. That’s all she ever talks about. And I had to see her today. And there is no one on this Earth that I truly believe is more selfish than her. I never had a relationship with her. She never wanted one with me. But now that I’m older, I don’t care who knows it. I think she’s a terrible person. BUT I am happy someone is marrying her selfish ass. I am happy for her even though I really, really don’t like her. I should mention my last relationship was very serious. Like, super serious. And, I was treated badly. You know those tags I use, the ones like abuse, and synonyms for that thing, I say shame when you know what I mean. Even I hate saying the word. She knows what happened to me and that I’m still healing from it. She still doesn’t stop. Very thoughtful of her. Fucking cunt.
And then I cried. Because I’m alone. And because I’m reminded that if I just kept my mouth shut I’d be planning a big day too. Fucking cunt.
And I saw my newborn baby cousin. And he is absolutely beautiful and breathtaking. He is perfect and blessed and his mom and dad are so fortunate and blessed by God.
…And I’ll never have that moment. Because I’m sick. And because my insides don’t work like they should. I’ll never be able to hold a baby of my own. I love my new baby cousin so much. It just reminds me that I can never be a parent.
Here I am. With my blasting music. About to take my first fucking Vicodin of the night because I’m in pain. Would smoke if I did smoke. Would drink if I did drink. Just feel like saying a big F YOU to the world and drown in MY OWN selfishness for a little bit.
Just for a little bit I’ll feel sorry for myself. Then I’ll feel guilty. And forget what I was thinking about. Because, you know, I have lesions in my brain and I forget most things. Woo!