Another journal, because where the hell else can I write this?

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture

It's another case of me wondering what the hell is wrong with me that I'm so goddamn depressed and fucked up despite having such a goddamn perfect life, a goddamn perfect family, and goddamn perfect lovers.

The people keep fucking screaming at me, even when there's nothing fucking wrong. They tell me my trusted partner, who is pretty much obsessed with taking care of me, is lying to me and is going to hurt himself. After I flip out at him for doing this, I'm put in the awkward position of realizing that he was not in fact lying to me and is not in fact going to hurt himself. And it's not like I can explain to him what's wrong. I told one of my other sort-of-lovers, and he just tells me that I'm going to need to tell my therapist. Naturally I freak out, because that means anti-psychotics, and that means that I'll end up a shambling zombie with no personality anymore. If you think I'm exaggerating, I'm not; every time I've taken them before, it's been that exact case. The people don't even cause that freakout, it's all me in my stupid head that can't keep its stupid facts straight. THERAPISTS DO NOT ASSIGN DRUGS, MORON. Happily, I'm convinced of this and calm down after an anxiety pill has been downed. So I will be telling my therapist.

In other news, I've finally been able to write a story again. It's not hard to get into the main character's head, cuz she's just a slightly-exaggerated version of me, and the narration is all stream of consciousness, so basically I get to write a story that is all about how I see the world and the people around me. Of course, I'm also adding a dramatic plot in which the main character gradually begins to believe that she is living in Annwn, the Welsh Otherworld, and begins identifying all of her friends and family as various sídhe, including maybe Gwyn ap Nudd, thanks to her growing obsession with ancient celtic mythology.

It's very good to be writing again. In a read-through of an old outline, I found this curious passage:

Pinn is, as a teenager, tall and thin. Having a feminine body and mannerisms, adopted during his period with Läsa, he upholds his appearance of ‘beauty’ with great strain, not realizing that he is quite beautiful without such attentions. His days with Läsa caused him to have great confusion about his gender, but as time goes on he grows more comfortable as a male. He is not transgendered.

Sounds like I was trying to justify a few things to myself. Well, I guess there are a lot of things in my life that were lies. I just keep finding more and more of those walls and masks I built and discarded over the years; quite a lot on this very site. Maybe one day I'll stop needing them?

Anyways. Thanks to anyone who actually bothered reading this tripe.

EDIT: I forgot to mention how horrific my missing of that one sort-of-lover is, because we're not in a relationship at the moment and it's like being punched in the solar plexus every time I see his face. BLAGH


swimmerguy's picture


This is an honest comment, you might be one of the few people I know who have a talent for bitter sarcasm. I've been fascinated with that recently, people who, oppressed for some reason, don't get less but more humorous...

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture


Why, thank you. Years of practice, I suppose. Mostly I'm of the opinion that I'd rather laugh at it all than cry, but I'm not sure everyone always gets the joke.

* * *

In conclusion,

I am the Walrus, koo-koo kachoo. Q.E.D., bitches.