a.gloomy.girlie (mytwistedpsyche) wrote,

  • Mood:

I'll throw my own (pity) party...

I'm fucking unhappy.  That's all there is to it,  Happiness isn't anywhere in my sphere at the current time.  The boy is getting more and more ate up now that he's got a job, something that was supposed to help him get better and help me at the same time.  I'm still paying all the bills, I'm also buying his pills when he's exhausted his paycheck just so he can work to buy pills to work, Fucking stupid, right?  YEP.  I'm working 3rds and 2nds trying to make things work and getting FAT from it all, and nothing is still working out how it should be.  He says I'm mean and I'm never nice to him anymore,  says I'm psycho when I'm doing everything I can to hold it together.  He says he wants help, but since he's broke and can't find it he acts as if I should just resign myself to the fact that I have to be his nursemaid forever.  or until *i* work to find him a way to shake the monkey on his back. 

and maybe I *am* more irritated than normal.  maybe i'm not as smiley and happy go lucky as a chas used to be... but is it any fucking wonder?  I'm getting really fucking down.  and when I try and put my foot down and  say im not his fucking work horse,  that I shouldn't have to work full time, pay all the bills (which he helped make after exhausting my savings), clean, do his fucking laundry (because I'm the girl he refuses to do so), all whilst paying for his Opiates he throws a big-ass baby fit and says that I'm creating my own misery and why can't i just be 'cool' and 'down' like I used to be.  

Well...  shit...

He used to be nice.  He used to value me and his mother.  He used to surprise me, make me laugh and smile. He didn't used to be a shell of a person who'd bite me on the face when I wouldn't buy him codiene cough syrup from the drugstore when his drug dealer was without and he'd already went and signed for some the week before. (true stories)  he didn't used to tell me for 3 fucking weeks in a row that he'd give me back $20 bucks that he talked me outta putting on one of my many cc bills and NOT fucking do so, getting pissed and trying to scare me outta saying anything to anyone about the person he's becoming (he doesn't want anyone looking down on him or something-- so I'm not supposed to talk to anyone about any of this) when I realize he's lied once again.

and the hell of it?  Yesterday was my fucking birthday. and what'd I do? Nada.  Another year of nothing but going backward in life.  I used to have a savings.  I used to be able to go places and do things-- but now I have a mounting stack of bills, a boyfriend with a growing tolerance and a temper that won't quit, and a fucking messy bedroom that I don't have time to clean.   and he calls me psycho over and over.  making the cuckoo noise and making the swirling around the temple motion and pointing at me trying to teach my niece Maya to do the same thing.  If he knew me at all he'd know how much that would hurt me if she'd ever think that of me (she's 2 and still thinks her aunt chas is the coolest.  she's not old enough to see how broken I am.)

 He's gonna see psycho.  Crying and Yelling don't work.  Maybe silence will?  a real Dead calm.  

Happy fucking birthday to me.   
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