Read at your own risk, contents are graphic and disturbing.

First and foremost, borderline personality disorder sucks ass. If I could get rid of it I would. I am sick of the bouts of depression, the constant knot in my gut, the OCD-like ticks, the anxiety over everything, and the toll that it takes on my personal relationships.

I don't know what fucking life memo I missed to end up being such a fuck up. I have a college degree that I do nothing with. I'm in a dead-end job paying for that fucking useless degree. I'm working poor and live hand-to-mouth. My credit score is closer to my IQ than something that would allow me to ever own a house or even rent a fucking apartment. I suck with money and have no willpower. And to boot, I'm overweight and hate myself but refuse to do anything about it. I give up so easily and am crushed by my lack of motivation.

Another thing that bothers me is my inability to process things like a normal fucking human being. I take a lot of things personal and am easily upset. Here's the thing, despite recognizing that, it doesn't make my emotions/pain/feelings any easier to control. So I know I'm a piece of shit and I'm just trapped in my fucking body. I'm a chore to be around and am lucky my husband is so patient.

The best part? I have to pay for shitty insurance in order to keep getting my medication. I can't afford to see the doctor without insurance. So I'm trapped in this fucking loop. The insurance cost way too much for what we get. Insurance is just a fucking scam anyways. If they just paid people a living fucking wage I'd gladly pay a private physician directly.

I literally have no identity. Or even know what the fuck that means. I think that everything I've learned in life is a big fucking lie. There is no "finding yourself". That is bullshit that serves for me to feel inadequate because I can't afford some fucking backpacking trip around Europe... or even gas to get to and from work. I'll admit I have some nice qualities. I empathize with others really well--but to a fault. I take on the anxiety/stress/sadness of others around me. And it just serves to destroy my heart and soul even more.

I just feel like I missed the fucking boat. Noah is on his ark and I'm like, "fuuuuck... I missed the boat." I can feel the rain just pour down on me and I can only float on top for so long. Now I get to watch everyone buy houses, get married, be successful, get good jobs, and somehow find some satisfaction in their lives.

I can't even find a job that matches my degree, I can't get a loan to consolidate my debts, I can't even get cleared to rent a fucking apartment because of my credit. Credit is a motherfucking load of bullshit. Why the fuck should I be judged on something that I never agreed to? I feel like a complete fuck up because I have to learn everything the hard way when it comes to money. I missed the memo on life fucking sucks so you better save up and watch yourself.

Part of my atrocious spending habits stem from my BPD. Okay, I have an excuse, but now what? How the fuck am I supposed to dig myself out of this fucking hole I've dug? Am I supposed to sit here and fight every day to keep the air in my lungs and my head above the fucking surface? Is that my lot in life? What's the fucking point?

On top of everything else, everyone in this world sucks--on a whole. My customers in every job I've ever worked give me further thought that every human is wicked by nature and they must fight to do good. They bitch and complain about the dumbest shit. They have no accountability nor take any responsibility for their actions. So why the fuck should I? I feel like the fucking lone fucking ranger trying to be a good person in a world full of shit. People murder each other over bicycles, money, greed, lust.. They steal human lives because.... because? Because they are selfish fuck holes who don't look at the whole picture. That person they stole the life from is a daughter/mother/aunt/son/nephew/unlce etc...

People are so emboldened in their own thought processes when it comes to politics and religion that I just want to fucking move to a deserted island and die alone. As Friedrich Nietzsche put it, "Convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies." People never attempt to play devil's advocate. They are just the victims of groupthink. They don't think for themselves. They listen to their parent's politics and are brainwashed and don't even know it. More than being frustrated with them, I pity the living fuck out of them. Though, Voltaire hits it spot-on when he said, "It is difficult to free fools from the chains they revere".

Now I've hit the point where all I want to do is start being honest about how I feel. I've been stuffing down/repressing all the thoughts/feelings I've had. I've been polite. All that's done is served me to get fucked over. Am I taking the high road? I don't know that it even exists. I think we are all on the same stupid fucking highway to hell. Maybe I won't arrive as quickly, but we all fucking suck as human beings.

and stuff

I can't watch shows like "The Killing". I think more about things than the normal human does. All I can think about for that show is, "sure you get to see who did it...but she's dead." Someone's daughter, sister, cousin, friend... they are gone. I know it's fictional, I get that. But it is supposed to elicit some sort of emotional reaction, right?

I watched through all but the current season of "Breaking Bad". It was really difficult to watch the human condition like that. I think that because I deal with some overwhelming shit myself, I'm less than jumping at the opportunity to watch fictional people struggle.

I don't know how I made it through "Mad Men" to this point... for some reason I am able to cope with that show. It's really well done, deals with some heavy stuff, but I think I like seeing snippets of history. It's more cathartic. 

Sometimes I wonder what my purpose is, with the enormous heart that I have. At least I've learned the lesson to not give my heart to those who don't deserve it... so why watch stuff that upsets me?

I did watch "Tiny Furniture" starring and directed by Lena Dunham. I don't know, but watching her stuff--including "Girls" on HBO puts me in a weird mood. Not necessarily a bad one, though. I guess it makes me uncomfortable that people think the strange things I do. You can tell she's raw/real in her roles. However, I do feel slightly uneasy admitting publicly that I've been in some of the situations she's been in. 

There's a fine line between art and bullshit. I guess there is the idea that everything is relative. What I may find artistic, some may find mundane. What I find blasé, may be someone's soul. I guess I just feel really lost sometimes. I guess the best I can do is just do what feels right in my heart... and to not over-think it. 

Ha.  

Curves Ahead: Take Me Out to the Ballgame

It's a beautiful view, errrr, it was. 

We were with our friends Micah and Melanie. There was tail-gaiting, football throwing, and perhaps one too many drinks had for the pregame. As we meandered our way through the throngs of people toward the entrance, we couldn't help but notice how drunk people were already.

We found our seats, Melanie had done well. The view like the one we had it was worth it. We were pretty sure we could keep our conversation PG. We took our seats and waited for the start of the game.

Paul handed me the little mini Brewer's baseball cap with cheese curds in it. I was so happy he remembered that is all I wanted and talked about before the game. I still have it sitting on my desk as I type this. We all settled in and Melanie bought a 9.00 Summer Shandy. 

About 3 innings in, I happened to look over at Micah. He was sitting somewhat upright with his head bent forward. I noticed a line of drool running from him lip down to his shirt. I sort of chuckled to myself and pointed it out to Melanie. We knew he was tired because he is a truck driver and was up super early and not running on a lot of sleep.

We pointed it out to Paul and he had a nice chuckle. We didn't think much of it until the incident during the 5th inning. Melanie had gotten another drink and I had stolen the one from Micah's hand while he caught up on sleep. Within a few minutes of ordering her beer, at least 4 security personnel showed up along the steps to our seats and two right in front of us.

They asked Melanie if we knew who he was. I explained that he was sleeping because he had a long day. They kept asking if he had anything to drink. Not just asking, demanding to know an answer like we were some sort of wanted criminals. At this point everyone around us was staring.

They told Micah that he would have to follow them and Melanie escorted him up the stairs to the deck and out of sight. Paul and I just sat there bewildered. Then people around us started asking us what was going on. I explained the situation and they could not understand why he got removed either. After a few minutes Paul and I decided to go find out what was going on.

We made it up the stairs and found Melanie and Micah. Apparently, he'd been given a warning about passing out at the game. Here's the completely stupid part, as we walked around the stadium's inner workings, we noticed about 1 out of 8 people were stupid drunk. I'm talking can't walk straight and tipping over drunk. We all wondered out loud how that was acceptable but a man who was not being obscene nor disruptive was such a nuisance.

We decided that Micah was not going to be able to stay awake and we didn't want to run the risk of getting kicked out. While finding our way to the exit, we came to the realization that we were in the family section. That explained why someone reported Micah for catching some Zzzzz's.

Ironically enough, upon exiting the stadium, we saw a guy holding a girls hair back while she heaved her alcoholic libations straight into the dumpster. On one hand we couldn't blame them wanting to keep the family section free of that sort of thing. But on the other hand, we were a little annoyed that we had to miss the rest of the game. They lost anyways.

Paul and I were a little disappointed because we were treating that as our one-year anniversary present to each other--of dating. Paul and I had only been dating for about 4 months before we got engaged. So we celebrated our 1 year anniversary AFTER we got married.

When we got back to the hotel room, all of us had a good laugh about it. We decided that the next time we watch a Brewer's game, we may try to limit our use of alcohol--or just limit our sitting in the FAMILY section.