I’ve always generally assumed that if people are addicted to states of mind or feelings, its probably the good ones. Happiness, being in love, orgasms, adrenaline, gigglyness, superiority, successful, peaceful.
I’ve noticed that I’m addicted to some of those, for sure, and I am always looking for a chance to feel like I have everything together. But beyond that, I tend to feel really at home when I’m falling apart…when the world is over, and its all my fault.
If I do something stupid, its easier, more comfortable, to feel like “Whelp, this is normal state of being, my equilibrium—I’m a fuck up, so anytime things are not fucked up, it must be a glitch in the program, and my old friend misery and his pal despondency are waiting for their cue, in the break room.” Those guys are always working a shift, I just dont know when they’ll get off break and get back to work.
I cant accept good things, like it is legitimately difficult for me. I want them, I just cant have them. However, I am always more than able to accept misery and an excuse for self-hatred. After all, I’m a very bad person who deserves none of what she has. I’m a liar, a cheat, a thief, a betrayer. I’ve stolen trust, property, time, and energy from other people. I’ve inconvenienced people, let them down, angered them, did things that made them decide it was best to leave me behind, or treat me like a pet cat that just cant help but pee on the rug because hey, I’m a cute, broken little thing and I just cant help but ruin nice things.
The worse part about being a fuck up is that I’d rather be beaten or thrown out a window than get that pity treatment that leaves me unharmed, but pushed down a notch in my general level of respectability.
I forgot to do the dishes again? Ah, well, thats to be expected, poor stupid Lauren.
I forgot to lie to that family member about that thing? Well Lauren is smart, but not in a people-way, doesn’t understand that you just cant tell the truth sometimes.
I put on some weight? Oh no worries honey, youre still beautiful, just take better care of yourself, no one wants to talk to someone who looks like they’re falling apart. There’s a great new diet you can go on, it’ll knock off 10 pounds, get you back to a healthy 115!
You hung out with someone we all agreed was off limits, through unspoken agreement? Lauren just doesnt understand the basic rules of human interaction. She cant really be trusted with real relationships.
You didnt invite your grandmother who hasnt contacted you in years to your wedding? Gosh, she’s letting herself get so stressed out with this wedding stuff, doesnt understand that weddings are not just about her and the fiance.
All these rules…all these mistakes I made, things I didnt understand. Failure is so constant in the world of human interaction, that when I screw up, I cant just sit back and accept mercy, in the rare instance that I get it. No, I need punishment. No pity, no false forgiveness, no knocking me down a notch—treat me like a human that screwed up and get even with me. An eye for an eye.
This may be wrong, but I think guys handle things the way I like—they punch each other and call it a day. Women, however, sit down with you, tell you you’re an idiot, but that the “love” you and “forgive” you, only to bring it up those sins months, sometimes years, later.
I just want justice. If I break something yours, break something of mine. If I withhold truth, withhold your presence. I get that. But to not punish me, forgive me and let it slide? It cant be real. Mercy seems like only a longer, more insidious way to control my pervasive guilt, using it to string me one way or the other. Because me? I’ll do anything to erase the red in my ledger. I’ve bowed down to slavery for that cause.
I dont want that anymore…I need to learn to accept mercy, or I’ll implode and destroy the ones closest to me. But I’m much more comfortable in my addiction to hopelessness. Darkness is my only friend some days. At least with him, I can hear him when I call. With God, I cant hear Him—I expect to hear condemnation or trite answers that solve nothing. I know thats not true, but I cant remember the last time I heard Him clearly.
I’ll keep waiting, I guess. I hope He has something to say.
Kids please don’t think that it’s unusual or special to be dating someone with whom you can watch netflix and eat pizza and hold hands and also have hot sex with
It concerns me when I see millions of notes on a post that’s like “fuck me hard but also be sweet with me”
Like what kinds of relationships are you in that you think this is a revolutionary thing to ask
Yup. Dating is pretty broken right now, in both secular and religious lifestyles. Its either girls doing nothing but sending emotional radio signals they assume are universal (using what I assume morse-code via eyelash-batting), with guys being too Nice to ever ask a girl out in a direct, normal way…or both parties doing body-bumping with cold shoulders, saying “hey, let freedom ring, sex without emotions, it’s all whatever”