anonomonomus

[anonomonomus]

I quit everything.

But a little weed. To sleep.

I don’t drink. 

I don’t smoke. 

And this has all recently happened. I don’t know why I was so disillusioned about sobriety fixing all of my problems. 

Just like quarantine.... I am faced with all my problems that I have been ignoring for ever. 

The loneliness I feel from quarantine, plus the loneliness I feel from not drinking anymore makes me feel like I am slowly withering away. 

I quit my job and people I thought were friends felt like they had to take sides. There are no sides. 

I had a ‘friend’ try to convince me to come back to the bar. I said no, I didn’t feel welcome there. He said, “you have to get over that. People get their feelings hurt all the time.” I said, “I don’t have to get over shit. I’m also a recovering alcoholic, I can’t be in a bar right now.” “Well, you have to get over that.”

No.

No. 

No. 

I don’t have to get over shit. 

I don’t have to get over a god damned thing. 

Why is it more normal it be at a bar than not?

I’m learning who friends are. 

I’m learning who drinking buddies were.

I quit my job. My employer wasn’t able to afford me at my manager rate, I was demoted to a server. Recovering from alcoholism and making cocktails. I didn’t want to work 40 hours a week. I wanted to go back to 25-30... it is safer for me. 

“You don’t want to work.”

And I’m sure you think that because you think I get unemployment. I don’t. I literally lose it after I make $130.

“It has been clear that you do not want to be here and it shows.”

I haven’t seen you working with any people in the last three weeks. The only time I see you with customers is when you are drinking with them while your people on the floor are understaffed and haven’t had dr. pepper in two weeks. Coke in one. No root beer or ginger beer since we have been back. I don’t think you have been making $11 after tip out.

“I need you and I need you to have the right attitude with fellow employees and customers.  If you cannot do that, you need to exercise your options.”

I served a white supremacist Nazi with kindness because I went low and needed to make money. They flashed the Nazi sign at me. 

“If you cannot do the work because of your fears or because of health reasons; then you need to make decisions that work for you but do not bring that energy into the work place.“

This environment has out of towners touching me and taking their masks off and getting closer so they can talk to me. I am a recovering alcoholic stuck in a bar. I don’t wan to work four days in a row. It is torture. ‘My energy’ is that of love and healing in a place that has turned into a dark, angry, and unsafe environment.

But I won’t tell you this, because you don’t ask. I quit instead. I work for a lady who proclaims “black lives matter” on the front window of her establishment. Acknowledges the risk she and her employees take as they work in a pandemic. Who asks about my sobriety. Who asks about my not smoking. The same woman who only charged me half of my rent when I was laid off and she had to shut her business down. 

I’m shedding people and gaining others. Others I didn’t know were there as I lived in a perpetual state of self hate, tequila, and spending so much energy convincing myself and others that I was functioning. 

I’m not functioning. I’m learning to live. And I will tell you what is okay and what is not. My happiness is important. My compassion for you is just as important as my compassion for myself. 

[anonomonomus]

I Had An Abortion

I had an abortion.

I had an abortion.

This might be the most personal thing I have ever written. The people closest to me don’t even know about this. For all they know, I have the flu.

I celebrated the inauguration of Trump by exercising my reproductive rights and having a medically induced miscarriage. I longingly watch the Women’s March from my couch, recuperating, wishing I could be there.

Naturally, I have been home for over 24 hours straight. My brain always runs so fast at this time of night, lately. If I am alone, I usually cry. Bad enough my uterus is so sore anytime I cry or choke on my tears, the pain intensifies.

I’m sure any Christian with no empathy reading this will equate that with the beginning of deserved punishment.

Sometimes I wonder if that is the truth.

I can’t imagine it could be. But, maybe the Irish Catholic background I was predisposed to is peeking it’s nasty little head out. It never left.

I had an abortion. I still can’t comprehend these words coming from my fingertips, coming from my lips.

I am young, make $17,000 a year, about, before taxes. I’ve never been able to save money and I don’t live frivolously. I work six days a week and forever feel guilty that I don’t take the kind of care I aspire to with my own dog, let alone myself.

I’m still not ready to give up dreams of playing music and being in plays. This is something I’m quite dedicated to. Always have been always will.

I never thought I would be in this situation before. I’m always very careful. The idea of getting pregnant was my worst nightmare, biggest fear, end of the world scenario I’ve imagined my entire sexual life. But, it happened. Not nearly as catastrophic as I had made it out to be. I am by nature anxiety ridden.

I have never needed support so much in my life.... and had so little.

I’m thankful for what I have. I really am. However, not a one is around for a 9pm phone call of tears.

Why is it that I can’t tell anyone? Why is it that women, making one of the most difficult decisions in their life, have to be so isolated in times like this? I don’t think I have ever lied to people as much as I have in the last two weeks. Making up for lost time? I’d rather not.

Being confined to my bed, to my house, snuggling with my dog, I go on Facebook a lot. I see friends, acquaintances in a political war, calling women like me a ‘murderer,’ ‘should be more responsible,’ ‘should have kept my legs closed.’

Here I am, trying to lay in bed so I don’t miss another day of work, wondering where my moral compass is. I thought this decision, which just about broke me in half, was the most responsible thing I have ever done.

Whenever I imagined this scenario happening, but never supposed to actually happen, I always knew that I would get an abortion. I didn’t want to, but with a heavy heart, I knew I could not bring another life into this world. With this political climate, the climate deteriorating. Most importantly, I could not bring a child into this world knowing that I could not provide for it. And, most likely, end up resenting this life I created.

It’s not as black and white as I had thought. Quite the contrary. Feeling a life growing inside you. Trying to refrain from the natural instinct to bond. The hormones that make your brain work like a peep in a microwave.

Life is an important thing. Creating life is a very important gift, to be taken seriously. I would never want to enter motherhood in vain.

I don’t regret my decision. Not one bit. I would never tell another woman what she should do in this situation. Just support. SUPPORT.

The first person I told, said they supported me. But, then said things like: “What if you’ll never be able to have kids again?” “I’m bummed we won’t be raising kids together.” Then, continue on to send me pictures of babies the entire time, even while I was having my medically induced miscarriage.

How to explain to people at work why I am crying out of character? Why I can’t stand for long periods of time? Why I have to run to the bathroom every couple of hours?

I had an abortion.

I’m bleeding out. Having cramps..... Can’t even leave my house to get more pads. And the only one in the world who can help me, is not getting back to me. That would be my partner. I love him endlessly. He has been to every appointment, the day I took the second round of pills. I know he needs a break and can’t be here all the time.

I have no one else to talk to. So, I’m throwing myself to the piranhas of the internet.

[anonomonomus]

If they saw this, they'd think I'm crazy

That skin has never looked so mailable The red would look beautiful Bring out your eyes So many I love yous But it is all lies You say it because you think I need it I say it's the end Going back to formitave years Remembering how badly I wanted it I want it again And again And again These scars look perfect Maybe in an alternate reality I died Maybe I am dead Maybe this is hell Today was supposed to be a good day But as they say Expectation leads to disappointment I could taste it all day I had wished it weren't so But I go down Down Lower than I have ever been I can't win And there is no one Just me and the stars I am doing something wrong It's me It's always me I fuck it up I hate too much

[anonomonomus]

Like a virgin

Okay. Here it goes. You know how many times this thing fucking froze on me just to write this sentence? The internet was like, “OH NO, NOT THIS BITCH AGAIN. We don’t wanna hear it. Not again.”

So here it goes, anyways.

You ever notice how short conversations are on OkCupid? I’m pretty intentional about it. My instinct, is like in real life, ‘be an asshole. take the ego, squish it on the ground.’ But then my whiney New York voice starts, ‘Well, cyber bullying is really not why you’re here. Don’t ruin someones day because you are a jaded, bored, sadist.’

Woah, the concern in this whiny voice startles me. But, is nevertheless, the tone of my voice of reason.

I do not suffer from multiple personalities, I promise. I feel I must preface with that. I am an actress, I like different voices and accents. Not sure how this is translating through the written word.

Damn I need more mushrooms.

ANYWAYS.

They write, “Hey.”

I want to say, “is for horses, you sorry mother fucker.”

What I actually say, if I say anything at all is, “Hello.” Or, the more degrading, “Howdy!” - That ends the conversation there. Instant weirdo repellant. It reminds me of living in Philadelphia. When you get a crazy on the street screaming at you, you gotta out crazy them. Make them scared of you. Talk to yourself real loud, sock your head a couple times, BOOM! You’re home. No tazer. No pepper spray. It’s free.

Then they say, “How are you?”

This is where it gets all fucked up. You tell them. They don’t give a fuck. They are in a fantasy, awaiting this answer: “Well, I woke up, touched myself, did the dishes, touched myself, looked at your pictures, touched myself. Dick pixx?”

NO! NO ONE EVER IN THE HISTORY OF EVER HAS WANTED A DICK PICK. NOT NOW, NOT EVER. (Why didn’t I just use ‘caps lock’ for that?)

I tell them straight. I worked my mother fucking ass off today. Unless you come to my place of business, we will probably never see each other. I’m a hard worker. Then, I get off, have a few beers, meet up with my motley crew, and probably ate a hand full of mushrooms and thought about space.

When I said I needed a vacation, my eye started to twitch. It has now become the ‘v’ word.

In all actuality I say, “I worked. Had a few beers afterwards. You?”

“Oh chilling.”

Where did you expect this to go, bro?

Are people that fucking retarded these days? What does that say about how women are acting these days? Is the conversation,

“Oh chilling.”

“Perf. Wanna sext?”

Is there no pretext? Is there no more effort to sweep one another off their feet with conversation and laughter? It’s just “Hi” *fuck* “Bye”

I tried that, it’s scary easy, kinda cool and scary to know that you can shut people off that quickly. That they can text you “Dtf?” For months, even though you never respond.

God damn it. OkCupid is right. I am a romantic. And it fucking sucks in a world where people are just chasing after the next fuck, the next fuck, and the next.

I know what the answer to this is.

“Duh....You didn’t know?”