::Let Me Clear My Throat::

....Shhhhh.... Evidently there is a mole among us.  And I won't rest until I find him or her, and display my tendency for sick, twisted violence.  Snitches get stiches. I should make clear that Grande was tipped off and now knows the innermost workings of my crazy mind.  I don't really give a flying hoot that he read about himself and all the ways he destroyed me as a human being; in fact, I enjoy it a bit, because NOW HE REALLY KNOWS, just in case it was blurry before.  It wasn't something I wrote with the intention of him finding it, so it's fair to say that every word I have typed so far is as genuine as it gets.  I hope reading it twisted up his insides. And maybe makes him pee himself a little, cuz that would be embarrasing for him and make my day. Now about that snitch....

My life is like a train that just jumped the track.  Everything now is dangerous and uncertain and out of control, and at this rate will surely kill me and my passengers.   It's a harsh realization when you figure out you quite literally have nobody to count on when shit blows apart.  It doesn't matter how solidly I stood by everyone else when they had trouble or needs, all that seems to be irrelevant now that it's ME than needs something.  I was surrounded by takers, and now that I need to take, I'm completely alone.  Peoples' capacity to be total selfish assholes is mind boggling. Isn't it supposed to be part of human nature to be giving, and to give a fuck about your fellow man, or am I just the only schmuck who has been doing it while everyone laughs at me behind my back?   As of Tuesday, my little family and I are homeless...guess that means no blog updates for a while.  We literally have no place to go, and I've been wracking my ...

I've realized that it's detrimental to my emotional well being to be alone, physically I mean.  Being alone gives me too much time on my hands to mourn, and it makes me miss him, and text him, and drive past his house, and see his brother from far away, and to be disappointed that it wasn't him walking up the steps.  It makes me stalk his friends Facebook pages looking for any information on where he is and what he's doing.  I'm literally driving myself crazy obsessing.  This is so unhealthy.  I need friends, a social life, I need a goddamn hug and a slap in the head.  I need support, and something to keep me occupied so I can stop with this and move on.  But I miss him.   I was thinking earlier about last Valentines Day, I don't know why.  I remembered everything, and wondered how things could be so good one year ago and they're a pile of dust now. Sometimes I consider forgiving him and starting all over.  Then sometimes I hate him and...

Sometimes I truly believe I have this breakup thing licked. I mean, after going through it so many times, you would think that would be the case.  Evidently, practice doesn't always make perfect.  I have days that I'm not feeling so confident in my own "move on" abilities, like today.  Today, in particular, the hurt is eating me alive.  It's harsh and unrelenting and annoying and pissing me off that I can't brush it off like he does, and his ability to do that just hurts even more.  I wonder if he feels now that he's better off without me. I wonder if, subconsciously, he cheated so he could just get rid of me for good.  I know I'm supposed to be the one rid of him, but it still hurts that he's dealing with this better than me, and not groveling like I wish he would.  I want him to cry.  I want his insides to hurt like mine do.  I want his heart to actually feel broken like mine does.  I want him to sit here writing letters to himse...

   I'm in a reflective sort of mood today. My head is full of thoughts of my past, and worries for my future....and supreme irritation over my present state.  In a word, I'm feeling more bitter than a Sour Altoid, and can't help but wonder how the fuck I got here.   Things are in a constant state of ruin.  My love life, my job, my health, my financial state, and my living situation are all crumbling to bits in front of my eyes and I'm powerless to stop it. And to be quite honest, I'm getting to the point where I don't actually give a fuck anymore, and that, in itself, scares the shit out of me.  I'm ready to give my children to various family members and tough it out alone until I get things together enough to be a better mother to them. But then who am I without them?   I'm feeling lower and more insignificant than I ever have in my entire life, and that's saying alot.  I'm filled with sadness and unresolved rage over the demise of my 5 y...