I love you. Because if I hated you it would hurt really bad and I don't want to hurt anymore. You might think this love logic is selfish, but there is no self.
Now I will go to therapy, thanks for all your support.
I don't know how to hate! I try to hate people, like my abusive ex, but he taught me so much. I tried to hate my rapist but he was raped too! I tried to hate my parents but they're so cute and silly and they gave me everything. I tried to hate Brandon Stokes but he's way too hugable. I tried to hate the girls who hate me for being cute but those girls are cute and I love them because we are the same. I tried to hate men but they're so beautiful and they rarely get to cry. I tried to hate politics but they're not even real. I tried to hate commercials but if I was better at self promotion I'd totally get it. I tried to hate billboards but they are giant canvases for unrealized murals. I tried to hate tomatoes but the cherry ones are cherry. I tried to hate myself but myself is made up, I'm like a computer that needs to be updated, please do not shutdown until all updates have been installed. I tried harder to hate myself, stupid 1985 computer, no GPS, tons of glitches, but then I realized I wasn't the 1985 model because time is stupid and I'm a cloud! I've been collecting data for thousands of years, I've got great great grandma and grandpa data, I've got programs from times before time. I don't know how to hate, I barely know how to love... Right now I'm just happy because we are all the same and nobody can make me watch commercials.
I love you. Because if I hated you it would hurt really bad and I don't want to hurt anymore. You might think this love logic is selfish, but there is no self. Now I will go to therapy, thanks for all your support.
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They say the golden rule is, "Treat others the way you want to be treated." But that's noise. "Treat yourself the way you want to be treated."
Inside goes out and hits you like a boomerang. I spent my life treating others the way I wanted to be treated-- but I was never so kind to myself-- I became resentful of others, angry with myself, an asshole in general and the cycle persisted. I was so mean to myself I gave others permission to be mean to me. Silly human. I'm in this pretty thick right now and loving yourself is hard when you don't really know what it means... This helped me simplify; be kind to yourself. I'm not saying people hurting you is your fault but when you're kind to yourself you will know what "kind" looks like and you won't hang out with meanies. #loveyourself Having a great conversation with a great, penis toting, friend of mine.
He asks me how a man should approach women, without being offensive or predatory. I don't have a good answer. I like it when men are open and honest about their interest and intentions. For example: I'm standing somewhere, but I'm not backed into a corner, when a man who I may or may not be attracted to approaches me. He is smiling, he is confident, he says, "I think you are beautiful and I would like to spend time with you." I'm flattered and I respond accordingly. Maybe I think he's cute and I suggest we take a little walk. Maybe I say, "Thank you, but I'm not interested." He laughs and lets me know I'm free to change my mind and then we start talking about male birth control pills. No hard feelings, just adults, navigating adult stuff, like rejection and the future of contraceptives. I get rejected often enough, but I don't hate them for it. I just hope I made them feel special or something. Less pressure, more love and balls, balls are crucial. (If balls are a reference to resilience, compassion and tenacity...?) You'd think I'm really into comedy, that it saved my life and I prefer it to dick, you'd be wrong. I write sexy time jokes bc I don't get laid 3-7 times a week and I'm thirsty. I need that vitamin D! Men don't notice me when I'm passively drinking a hot toddy at the bar so I decided to take action, bc you know what men love--- a funny woman. Being funny is better than having a juice box. The Real Johns out there know we're just here for the harassment bc tits are so 2015, and jokes are the new J-Lo booty. #thirsty #hungry #starving #jokesfordick
I will vote, do I think it matters? I'm not sure. All of the candidates, Bernie included, are spending too much money campaigning. It's disheartening. Where could that money go? To the people both Hillary and Bernie claim to want to help. The show is more important than the actual lives that are at stake. I personally feel this is all a joke- American Idol style- but... Do I participate? Maybe my support of Bernie is an homage to my values? Maybe he will help inspire a political revolution? But has any revolution successfully managed to use the status quo to establish itself? I'm sick of the show. I'm sick of the bullshit debates. There is no debate. Corporate America is killing America (and the rest of the world). Bernie may be the most rational choice, for me, but is anything happening right now rational? Pharmaceutical companies are killing people. Municipalities are being privatized (FLINT). Cops continue to murder black people. Our criminal justice system continues to enslave black people in for profit prisons (slavery is real). Schools are demoralizing students (student debt slavery is real). Wages are appalling (wage slavery is real). The class system is still the ruling system, racism is institutionalized... Fluoride is pumped into our water supply along with god knows what else. Anti-depressants are the new American Dream. I'm at a loss. Do nothing or do something that's as good as doing nothing- keep pretending anyone of these show boats will make it better. There is no band aide for the crimes of our leaders. Corruption is the status quo. TV is the trough. We are fed noise and even when we get a real signal it's faint and fleeting. I just wanted to share my discontent. In a way Bernie has pacified me- the glimmer of hope, my desire to see his values become core has made me even more apathetic, because now I can pretend my support of a candidate has an affect on the everyday world around me. Unfortunately believing in something is not doing something. What will I do? I'll probably continue to live on the fringe, securing a life for myself that I'm morally comfortable with, but I will not pretend that I'm doing something. I'm on Facebook for fucks sake.
I grew up in an alcoholic/abusive home, mostly verbal abuse, nevertheless a war zone. Knowing little other than the extreme positive or the extreme negative, I found it difficult to understand how I really felt and would defer to "fuck this shit" or "everything is awesome", it never worked and I was effectively manic. A few months ago something pretty awful happened with a member of my family, nothing that hadn't happened before, but something I was no longer ok with accepting. I'm still in a bit of a funk but I've accepted that the difficult times are an important part of the rewarding times; basically sometimes it's okay to feel like shit, sometimes it's okay to go easy on yourself, just make sure to feed yourself well, or as well as you can. Anyway, the thing I finally realized, the epiphany I had was so simple it's silly; I don't have to hate the people who've hurt me to walk away, because I don't hate them, I love them tremendously. I can love them in my way and not participate. This lifted a huge weight, I cried, I've been crying a lot, and then I laughed. No more fuck you's, no more you're the best, now it just is. I love you, from over here, in my power and without sacrifice. And I'm so grateful to you, because this lesson might be the most important one I ever learn.
Me: I want to help inspire a revolution.
Mom: Are you prepared to deal with the reality of a revolution? Me: No. Mom: Buy a Powerball ticket instead. Alcohol: I'm not depressed, I want to fuck you, but I'm gonna fight you first.
Marijuana: I've always been depressed, pass the popcorn. Cocaine: I'm too cool to be depressed; why is my nose bleeding? Meth: You'd be depressed too if you had zombies stalking you. Anti-depressants: I feel nothing, can I go back to being depressed now? Acid: Depression is happiness hiding in the shadows. Mushrooms: Depression makes me giggle, grandpa never giggled, grandpa was depressed too, wish I could go back in time and give these shrooms to grandpa, now he's just a frog who lives underground, he's depressed 'cause it's dark down there, he just needs vitamin D, tehehehe vitamin D, you think grandpa was gay? You're talking to to yourself babe... That is depressing... But I read an opinion piece with bullet points that said smart people talk to themselves and creative people are sensitive... Spoiler Alert: we're all smart and creative! Dude, the walls are breathing! The walls are smart and creative, the walls have stories, not sensational enough for the news but still relevant... I need more paint, If I have enough paint I can cover myself in it and make paint angels on the floor. My landlord is depressed, he likes angels, this is gonna be great. I was abused by multiple people. The abuse started at home and I carry it everywhere. I can smell it now, and so can you. It's in my smile, my laugh, my tears, and the way I hide. I was abused and I have become the abuser. I'm scared to talk about it, I thought I was over it. I used to lash out and tell people the terrible things that were done to me with complete disregard for how they might feel, as if I was stabbing them with my pain. I still do this. Comedy helped me to see how much power I had abused, and how much I had abused myself. I still don't completely understand the way I behave, I feel that my personality is made of walls. I feel I'm healthier now but often I'm paralyzed by fear and doubt. The people in my life are carefully selected. I run from intimacy and the people who know me have never met me. They don't know that I don't like being in big crowds, that I have night terrors, that I don't like going to bars (unless I'm telling jokes in them), they don't know that I'm sick. I will do almost anything to make my friends and family feel comfortable, until I get tired and cut them out, or disappear. I have never felt safe. Not one day. I have never felt loved. I can't see myself as beautiful because of the ugly things that were done to me, and the ugly way I reacted. How could I be beautiful, I'm full of rage and I reek of victim. I love myself more than I ever have and that is why I'm sharing, I think, but I don't trust you, any of you and I never have. Don't get me wrong I trust certain people with certain things but when it comes to sharing my experiences privately most people tell me what to do without considering my situation. They give me bad and selfish advice, advice that makes them feel better and if I don't follow their advice I'm not trying hard enough to change. It boils down to fault and as an adult, the fault is mine. I choose to stay angry, I choose to isolate, I choose to attract narcissists and comparable abusers. I chose this. But when I chose this there was no choice, when this started I had no where else to go, I was a child. I'm still a child. A very scared child. When I read about abuse, attend meetings or find some list defining the traits of an abused woman, I can't do anything but cry. I was abused emotionally, physically and sexually. When I tried to get away from my abusers I was told I was crazy, I was sent to psychiatrists, not for my own health but to regulate my emotions for everyone else, including the abuser. I smoke pot for this reason, no one abuses the sedated? I've been punished for my intensity and my inherent desire to express myself. I was told that this crazy/angry person was who I was and that I had attracted the abuse. I was responsible. But as a women surrounded by women and men who have been abused, were we all asking for it? No. But we believed them when they told us we were crazy. We believed them when they told us they would kill our families if we left them. Sometimes we believed them because they were the only people who looked out for us, because we had to, because we were isolated. I still don't have real relationships and often I'm so sick I want to die. I'm sick of being angry but I can't have the conversations I want to have, I will never get resolution, there will be no apology. And here I feel stuck. I have to leave but I don't know where to go and even if I leave, I'll still smell like this, I will continue to attract abusers because I don't know what normal behavior is. I don't know what to do. I want to scream, I'm sick of screaming. The nightmares don't stop and I claim to be happy because I'm alone, when I'm alone no one can't hurt me.
On Sunday I was having a great, albeit mellow, day. After eating lunch at a friends pop-up and buying some new underwear I headed home to relax before I left again to do a comedy show. |
Alyssa WesterlundI love it when it rains. Archives
March 2016
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