Thursday, August 23, 2012
I ruin everything I touch
Everyone gives up on me. EVERYONE. I will always be a lonely fuck up. ALWAYS. I saw CT today even though I told her I wouldn't. I sobbed so fucking hard and made strange sounds that I wasn't aware I could make. I broke my favorite sunglasses. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I did in the car a few times. It didn't help me feel any better. CT doesn't care about me or what I want. She's done. But you know..."for my own good." I think what's in my best interest is having someone who doesn't give up on me and sticks around for once in my whole fucking life. That's what's in my best interest.
I think I'm going to drive back to Arizona. Gather up some party favors and then disappear into the tiny house with rubber ducky tiles. Fuck therapy. This will be my therapy. This will be my salvation. Last night I dreamed that I got super high, drew and wrote on the those white walls with my blood, guzzled down some magic potion in a whiskey bottle (it was a dream) and then set the house on fire before I tucked myself into my old bed, cuddled up to Tim's body. I'm not even sure if he was supposed to be dead or alive in this dream. I fell asleep and my ashes became part of the burned down house. What kind of fucked up person dreams of this shit? Me.
So here I am... minus a girlfriend, therapists, and a treatment program. I have nothing. I am alone. I will always be alone. I will never have people stick around in my life because it's fucking impossible to love me, care about me, and stick around. I'm a fucking fuck up. I'm nothing. I've got nothing. No support system. Not really. Not beyond my blog and text messaging.
Everyone gives up on me, so why should I keep going?