#because even though im older that doesnt mean i cant express myself through clothing anymore

[neurodivenport]

whenever i say i miss bree’s older wardrobe and someone says “well she matured and got older and so did her wardrobe” it ticks me off like like… just because she’s maturing doesn’t mean her wardrobe has to change that drastically… like maturing doesn’t mean you lose sight of what makes you you. my mom is 54 and still dresses as grungy as she did in the 80s. i know grandmas who still dress as colorful and as funky as they did in their teens. just because shes older doesnt mean she cant have weird girl swag

[ilygsd]

odfidk: 300718

me and my mom fighting and it brings up memories from like 1-2 years ago when we were fighting all the fucking time, partly bc she was depressed and idk i just found it annoying or smth. idk why. its so mean of me to be so cold and just constantly scream at her and be angry at her even though shes sick and struggling financially but now when i hear her crying again i just cant........ stand it. i get so fucking angry its brings be back to 7th grade again and it totally pisses me off. i feel like seems playing the victim but i know she doesnt line i know its hard for her and she's been through stuff too but i just........... i dont feel anything. i dont feel any compssion or empathy at all i just feel ANNOY.

idk why i am like that. my older adoptive brother used to live with me, mom and lil sis bc he was depressed too and didnt have anywhere to live and i was so pissed. i went to this rich white school and i hated having divorced parents, a mom who was depressed and i couldnt afford all the other things the other kids could. now i realize what they got was fucking insane like they travelled abroad 2727 times a year and only wore designer brands at age 13 like who the fuck can afford that. but back then it made me feel like shit and my relationship to money is just....... even now i cant buy expensive shit. or yes i can, like computer snd stuff but i cant buy expensive clothes or make up cus i feel like such a brag and i still kinda feel like that cus dont like money but i also want money imd sving like s crazy person i have quite much money and i feel quiltat cus i have a lot but i still feel poor and i still cant get myself to spend. and my childhood was ever rough, my parents always made sure to give us what we needed (even if it wasnt like ine if those ugly juicu picture outfits for 100$ each) but i still hated the fact that my dad has to pay for mom and we had to live with him more just bc mom was depressed or not financially stable. i hated to hear them talk abt money and as the older sister i always felt responsible

it was hell back then and im soooo glad we're through that but ive always been the bitch dramatic annoying difficult kid that no one liked. and i was that bc....... idk i have so much anger and sade as within me i guess and also cus well.... then my lil sis wont have to do all this fighting. she was mostly quiet and if she was sad she was sad on her own (or maybe talked to mom a bit sfter). i think she was svared of me back then and i dont blame me i was very very aggressive and im still very aggressive when fighting

im just so frustrated. idk why im such s mean bigch i just cant stand it. maybe i feel guilty?? maybe im svared? idk but when i hear my mom cry i just want to go up to her and slap her. i remember when they divirced and i was like 11. it was like lodig a family again tbh, no it WAS losing a family again. i was always proud over our family but after that it was hell. and i constantly blamed mom and dad for adoöting us, then divorcing snd then getting fucking depressed and low key poor. i was so angry abt mom divorcing dad and i didnt even care why. its so insenditive bc i remember she called dad an enotional abuser and i can low key undersyand what she means but its more like my dad just not being able to express his feelings and he delas with it like pretending nothings wrong which is frustrating ss hell. were fighting a lot too cus he refuses to see things and hes always this positive hoe like..... anyways i blamed her and i saw her as my enemy. thats a problem i have i alwyas see people as friends or enemies and nothing in between. i always think ppl want to hurt me, even my own boyfriend. wow ive been so mean to him too. a mistake and i avt like hes the worst fkn scum on earth just trying to stab me. i blamed mom for everything and the worst thing is that when she says "shes okay with it", me blaming her snd she undersyand its i just grt even more angriper and frustrated and i just cant stand that goody goody. same with my boyfriend when i was treating him like trash and he forgave me i was like........ bitch no

i dont know why it id like that. its like in pushing people away. i obviously do, i realized. i always thought i was the one clinging onto ppl and them ababdoning me but im actually pushing them away bu being a dramatic bigch snd always starting drama when im not satisifed. i started drama with my friends cus i felt like they didnt like me which was actually justified tho cus they beger invited me to anything  and they cut off ppl if they one day decided they didnt like them so i was constantly scared snd wanted more attention eve tho they gave me everything. and obviously that fucked shir up and they cut me off snd i went BANANAS.

why do i always go bananas. its happening iver and over again. i alwyas go bananas and im always so hateful. my attitude to everything is like: "ITS ME!!!! IM THE CICTIM!!!" i really have an inferior complex dont i?? but i also kinda have a superior complex too? where it ink im better. but i think my superior complex is like s defense mechanism to my inferior. im like a bully but more of a drama queen. i remember when my ex bff called me a drama wueen i was soooooooo offended and now i realize bc its true. i am a drama queen but not bc i think its fun fighting thats why i got offended. ppl always think k want to start fights and like to start fights and...... its kind sture but not really. its true that i always start fights and that i feel like i have to fight allt he time but its simple bc of what i justs aid; i feel like i always have to fight and win. life is a constant battle for me, everyones after me. i have to fight even though im anxious all the time im fighting.

i dont understand why im so mean all the time. like when my mom is crying or when she was depressed or when me and my boyfriend are fighting and im so mean i make him cry i dont feel anything. i once said to my dad "now i understand why mom divirced you" and i didnt even feel bad about it. i just get annoyed, especially at my mom. i just want to tell then to shut the fuck up and when i was younger i literally did. my parents got divorced, my mom got ptsd, our money.... :// and i literally just blamed her for everything. for breaking up with dad, adopting me and my sister, divorcing, getting sick, getting bad economy. i hated her and i was such a mean little bitch. we fought constantly for years and even though its better now...... its still there within me. i was fighting with her again today and heard her crying and i just..... wanted her to stop. not because i care but because it makes me feel bad or something i dont know? oh yes, that must be it by the way. its probably guilt. yes its definitely guilt. even when she forgives me and even my boyfriend forgives me for being mean i get even more annoyed and it MUST be because i feel even more guilty?? i dont undersyand though why am i alwyas so mean. its really true i feel like the world is against me. i see people as friends or enemies and nothin inbetween like my boyfriend can make a mistake and i can get so fucking angry bc i think he wants to hurt me or something which is horrible. hes literally crying, telling me that he's been there for me all this time, when i wanted to die, when i fought with my parents and lost all my friends. hes telling me; "ive only been trying to help you. ive only been kind to you. why do you think i want to hurt you. i love you. why cant you see that"

just thinking back at those words gets me teary. hes so right but at moments like those i cant see or feel it. im blinded by.... i dont know. paranoia? hatred? fear? at that moment i refuse to see the truth in his words and instead i grow even more annoyed. and then i feel guilty and i try to shut him out which im doing by blaming him. i once forced him to break up with me just to blame him for it. thats some psycho shit and no matter how much im trying to undersyand i dont undersyand my own behavior but i also know im the first one to declare WAR as soon as someone criticize me. only my boyfriend can criticize me (when im stable, uhhh when im not stable im afraid i would be very very very mean to him). i only tteust him. but im also so guilty. hes too nice for me and we all know its true. im just using him. im using him. first i used him for his love and undersyanding. and now im not even in live with him anymore. now i use him because of everything we've been through, because i trust him better than anyone and because im svared of being alone and unloved. i dont know if i live him or if thats just some sick shit an abuser would tell themselves to keep staying with their target. i'd like to think i love him but maybe i only think about myself. maybe im only living on his love anyways because i sure as hell dont live myself. can i really say i love jim? look at me. im sad and i feel bad im about to text him i love him but then is top myself.... is that only me manipulating him? manipulating myself? i want to believe i love him to make me feel ebtter? ir would make sense considering how much i use him tor reassure myself. ive beeb doubting our relationship a lot and everytime i use him as a comforter to tell me everything will be fine.

i feel like im always mean and scare people away even though i want them to stay with me. even though i want to love them. why is it like that. why do i always feel so fucked up

sometimes im afraid to show this side and sometimes im not.

in struggling between moving on from the disgusting person i was but like..... i dont wanna escape. i feel like im only ignoring her snd i dont deserve it. i feel like im still that person no matter how much i try to move one idk. maybe its time? maybe it would feel better if i apologized but i just.... cant. im too proud. they both apologized to be snd in the moment i accepted and apologized to them too but now..... i dont know. sometimes i feel like i was a complete bitch and everhthing was my fault which it was. i was having a war with myself and i dragged them into it. i was paranoid and thought they only wanted to hurt me. but st the same time i also KNOW they did things that werent very smart. i dont think they did it on purpose like i think back then but...... fuck it was stupid and im still mad about it. i just felt so abandoned and humiliated and the reason i got so depressed back then was because i realized its because of who i am. similar things have happened before but i just kept going cus i thought they were dumb af but now i really realized i got issues. snd im afraid i wont ever be able to make a real friend if i cant fix it

i feel like i have to hide it and if i hide it and cant show it im a bad person and ppl will judge me and hate me (justified)

im trying to be positive and the better im feeling, the less mean i am but like...... im still mean and abusive.

[somedaypast-thesunset]

i had a nice weekend, amazingly enough. in some ways i feel we both made an effort but at the same time we didn’t. like we just chilled - didnt try to make plans or rush through, just accepted that this was the activity.

it helped to change the routine up a bit. since my roommate left, we decided to stay at my place. i had a friend over for tea before being dropped off at his place where we packed up some things and came back. we got weed and alcohol and watched the unabomber documentary on netflix. it was nice - no one was yelling, no one was bothered. i brought my bed out to the living room so we could watch the big screen and relax.

in the morning we went to the bakery and bought good stuff for breakfast. smoked some weed, finished the unabomber series and took a nap. then we went skating at the park downtown before buying ingredients to make a fancy pasta dinner at his house.

it was very nice. i felt that this was ~my christmas. we definitely needed time / space to enjoy each other as is instead of constantly rushing and or making plans for other things. the success of it and the lure of downtown began helping him change his min (as well as the fact he wants to live the life the unabomber lived and now he realizes its kind of crazy)tm

this week i have a doctors appointment and im supposed to get a tattoo. he leaves on friday basically but he should be back before the next friday which oesnt seem that bad at all? he’ll still be here for new years. and my birthday. considering i dont care about christmas anyways, seems like an okay deal and i’ll probably get free random shit from people anyways. 

things are 20% less bad than they were on thursday/friday last week. it’s not great but i dont want to die. which is like .... the most normal level of being for me possible rght now. i am not “excited” to see my doctor because it means ive gone off the deep end but i am excited for the relief that i will feel upon talking to a professional who advocates for me. i am considering asking if he would want to talk to one of my friends who has been dealing with me to see if it would help because i think it would help to see that i have smart friends who are active in my life in positive ways - like i still want to provide proof that i’m not just some drug addict.

on the weekend i told him the story of my cat frank. frank died in really traumatic circumstances which was totally unusual for most people. frank was very very very sick and i took him to the vet by bus because my father was very sick. the vet took my cat, performed emergency procedures on him, then asked me to pay for it. when i couldnt pay for it they gave me the option of releasing it to the humane society, which the humane society woulnt take it and i would have to rive it there myself or put the now healthy cat down. so basically i had to put it down. they wanted me to pay to put it down as well. i had a friends father come in and he yelled at them and made a ig eal and they put it down for me for free.

in my life, i figured this was just ~ another thing. he asked me why this happened, how it couldve happened, that it was like a really terrible story if not one of the worst he’s ever heard and pressed for details. i did not fully realize at the time how unique my exprience was. i thought this went with my old line of belief - i was crazy. i was the crazy one just experiencing the world aroun me and reacting to it in a crazy way. i just “didnt understand” what was happening. i was 16 and alone and just dealing with this. 

but i was not crazy. i had taken my family pet to the vet like anyone would in modern society on the expectation that they cared about animals. but they did not care at all and i dont think that people fully understand that the pet industry is about money - it is not about the animal at all. but most people will drain their bank accounts for a beloved animal. i know people who have spent thousands of dollars and acted like it was completely normal and okay. 

is it though? i dont know. it seems fucked that we domesticated animals to an overabunance and then put a huge price tag on caring for one that they would otherwise kill. when this animal once survived in the wild without any care at all. 

but i tried to explain the nuances of this story to him which he would have zero understanding of at all. it is a bit like racism. you would never understand what a black person felt if you are not black. you do not get the nuanced glances and little shuffles away from you on a daily basis that makes you feel inhuman. and you cant explain the depth of that to someone - it sounds like you’re overreacting and nitpicking when this bothers your soul because you were merely born into the world and others are reacting to you for no reason at all.

so i tried to explain the nuances of being in poverty, having an alternative style and possibly being perceived as not white. which is a weird and unknown factor to my life - i am perceived as not white. i cannot say for certain what i am perceived as - i’ve gotten mixed, spanish and asian. but many times i am perceived as “not white”. i believe as i am getting older and my “alternative” style has become more like an old witchy type lady who just wears black and i am judged even more based on my natural looks that i am in fact coming across as more native american now than since i was a kid. 

it is kind of easy to tell by clothes if someone is experiencing poverty. kind of. sometimes people are still really insecure and want to portray themselves better off because they know its more beneficial to do so. some eople have no choice at all. as a teenager my “altnerative style” itself looked poor. i wore ripped jeans and band tshirts, i had weird colored hair that i cut myself and i probably had gross peircings. maybe i was wearing makeup from the night before. maybe my shoes had holes in them. maybe my jacket did. maybe i wore my leopard print coat. i dont know. i dont even know what i looked like or what i wore - i expressed myself through my style and i was very all over the place. maybe they judged me by this.

and its so easy to “understand” the judgement of “some punk kid” but the nuanced beliefs that follow it are not. punk to many is a criminal. a drug addict. someone who doesnt care. a kid is someone who does understand, that they can control and manipulate. someone in poverty has no choice and other people wont care. they wont care that this is a teenage girl saving her beloved pet, willing to work out payment plans and everthing else to do it. 

he did seem to understand my perspective. i have alot to deal with. this is why its offensive when i have to hear him lament about some other person’s life - who i honestly have no doubt they struggled. i really dont. if i met them independently and they told me of their lives, i bet we would get along (provided they werent a drug addict anymore) because i feel we’d probably empathize with eachother far more than he ever empathized with us. and i have only heard stories from others and every story is terrible - their successes are few and far between and they actively make harmful choices. imagine how they felt life was like for them to come to such conclusions on how they’ll live. to make choices to shoot drugs and fuck with all these people without care - that’s probably a lot of people actively not loving you and/or serious mental illness. 

but when the focus is on that and them and my struggles are taken without the same heaviness or seriousness or acceptance of how this would affect me .. it’s offensive. i do not want to be in competition with anyone for a shitty life. you cannot even be proud of that. it’s just sad. i’m sa for them, i’m sad for me - it’s just sad. but when no seriousness is taken on my life, i find myself trying to defend the belief that my life was not easy. and not just “not easy” like my parents divorced  or i didnt get into the school i wanted. like really seriously not easy, likely equal to the not easiness of this person as well. i just had a completely unique not easy experience to them and perhaps it’s not as wild or entertaining? or i’m not the cute little white blonde girl? 

i explained this to another friend about a doctor. as a teenager a friend and i  went to the doctor to try and find some help for me. we were our usual teenage goth selves and the doctor pretty much laughed and thought we were lesbians (we were not, which i guess kudos to him for accepting our perceived homosexuality but that wasnt part of the issue at hand) 

this is just the very obvious points. the examples you can see where most likely some judgement occurred but the actual bigger picture is what all these nuanced interactions equal out to. if everyday my interaction with someone is clouded by pre-conceived notions of being a drug addict, a criminal, “not white” (which in itself could be leading to the first two but is racist all around anyways) or to the lesser degrees - strange, not “socially acceptable”. but i am none of these things -  am just me. 

and you know, right now i am in a place much like my friend was as a teenager. she struggled with her racial identitiy. she did not want to be seen as “brown”. she carried hatred and resentment towards her culture and did not want to accept it despite being “brown”. so like her, i am very non-accepting of drug addicts because their existence makes mine harder. a drug addict many times lives in poverty. “not white” people are perceived as drug addicts. alternative styles are seen as drug addicts. and drug addicts themselves, many of whom i’ve interacted with, are not nice people. they are not people you want to be around and yes - they are still people. under the heroin and crack, they are still people hurt and struggling. i get it. but they just made the struggle for themselves and me ten times harder. so i have to fight and defend myself that i am not a drug addict which is so hard to prove because they can believe you’re popping pills or your trip to the bathroom took too long and it’s frustrating as hell.

unlike my friend i do not have to accept my identity as a drug addict because i’m not one. i realized that i did in fact choose to take a harder route in the struggles of life because doing drugs is the easy way. and yes, smoking weed is kind of the same but i’ve dealt and cried about life. every experience ive had with other drugs has been very numbing and exaggerated and an altered viewpoint. that is not how i react with weed. i dont know if others react differently and i wouldnt argue if they did. but this is my reaction. i would smoke 2 joints everyday before i took an anti depressant which i have taken and do not have the same very positive effects. 

but when ihave done other drugs and if i chose to continue to do other drugs its a complete escape. 100% non functioning escape. and it’s not like “do a little” mdma and you’re just a little happier all day. PEOPLE ARE STILL AROUND YOUR WEIRD ASS which is affected by this drug in unusual ways like you’re a “little happier” and everyone else is uncomfortable. congrats. i do drugs and i am writhing on the floor like a piece of shit. 

anyways, he told his mother the story about the vet and she essentially pushed it aside and said it seemed unlikely. she is why my life is shit. people ust like her multiplied into the thousands. for all the nuanced judgements and personal experiences - it seemed unlikely. but it did happen. this is my life. you’re telling me my life seems unlikely. this is exactly what happened. a grown man with a government job came in and yelled at them. i know his name. why would that occur? do you not understand WHY I AM CRAZY?

i am constantly looking for validation because of people like her. not everyone is like her. some people with vast life experiences or real open minds take you for your word. anything is possible in life. but many people don’t. and many of those people hold positions of power or authority which may even be as simple as being a teacher or principal. but those people will shape and guide the path your life in society is going to take. when i told people of what was going on - they didn’t believe me, they didnt care; it seemed unlikely. so i’m left questioning the importance, my sanity, my perspective as well as dealing with the actual active problem entirely on my own with absolutely no help or direction what so ever. thank god i was an egotistical cocky angry teenager. my punk ass attitude and anger and genera ignorance got me through things i honest to god probably wouldnt even do now. younger me was ten times harder. i was ready to do anything go anywhere but i didnt because i had guilt and apathy. i didnt have the same apathy as i do now, but there was some. i dont have guilt anymore and looking back had i followed through on my teenage dreams, i mightve been better off. i wanted to move out early. i wanted to move out at like 15 - 16 years old. if my dad had not gotten sick, i wouldve been working at a job where i made 350 - 500$ every week doing shit i was fully 100% capable of doing with no issue what so ever. in a home environment interacting with one other person. i realized i had earned like 4000$ in the 3 -4 months i was working there and had literally nothing because i spent it on weed and vodka and ecstacy. then i lost the job for being so stressed out and smoking so much weed before and during work that i couldnt even do the job anymore. which was like SHIT I DO EVERY DAY ANYWAYS. 

at 17 i spent 3 months living by myself. literally. while working. an taking care of any responsibilities my sick father put on me and this is before hes even in the house. most people cant eve comprehend the idea of me doing this now but this is what i did. what you need to realize is that my mother at the time was also still alive. so for whatever reason she just ... didn’t give a fuck this was happening. she knew. she was fully aware. but not once did she offer anything. she just wanted to know if he was going to be dead or not. 

17 year old me dealt with this by smoking an insanely large amount of weed which i do not think i have even matched to this day because never have i had that much disposable income again. but not only did i smoke weed, i did a shit ton of mdma and k and drank a lot of vodka which was my drink of choice at the time. we stole my dads van, three times, for lke no purpose. it was bad. this was essentially my most punk era of time which i now look back on pretty disappointed with myself because i had the wherewithal to get a job, maintain a job but then be a complete piece of shit teenager. that was my time - had i not given into drugs or alcohol i’d have been WAY different. period. 

by not taking that way out - and i feel like people don’t understan i made a concious decision not to do it anymore but eliminating toxic people in my life and like completely removing myself from these situations. the last time of significance that i did drugs - my friend came from toronto to visit. this is what we did. the routine. she came and we woul get “bored” and decide lets just pool what money we have and get something. so i asked everyone on facebook - at the time i had probably 150+ friends (super unusual for me a really big number) and just asked anyone and everyone. a random kid who went to our school back in the day (we were probably 18 now) said he had some pills. we walked in the dark to meet this kid and he gave us 2 pills for 20$ which is a pretty big rip off but we didnt care. we went back to my place, popped them and got high as fuck. half way through our trip, my bf at the time randomly shows up. which was a big deal; he live 3 hours away and was surprising me. we were very surprised and it was awkward and weird and it wasnt like we could send him away. we had to spend a few hours with him awkwardly before she slept in the other room and i had an uncomfortable time “sleeping” with him. 

i decided then maybe i was getting too old. i spent two years doing drugs and going through his routine and it was wearing on my body already. my teeth and gums were always sore from grinding, my lungs were always sore from smoking so many cigarettes, i was spending all of my money on drugs - there was times when the drugs were clearly mixed with other more disgusting drugs like coke and meth and it would result in way more fucked up reactions like the time i hit myself in the thigh with a baton for 30 minutes before my friend noticed and made me stop. but the repetition and pain were part of the enjoyment for me. all of the times i was on drugs, i was a different person. i was someone i would never actually be. sure, my inhibitions were lower but the filters of how i truly felt and would act are no longer there and thats not a real represenation of my actual true self. these are just deep layers of myself that i may not even want to share or would normally consent to sharing if the drugs didnt affect me. and that bothered me alot. it stil bothers me - my behavior on drugs. people out there have seen me in ways im not proud of. i’m embarassed and i only have myself to blame. 

so thats the easy way. the hard way is living life within your true self and finding enjoyment in things when you can barely find the excitement in yourself. take a drug and do any activity - it’s fantastic. do nothing and it’s great. but fining things your true self wants to take part in -- long time drug addicts know the “boredom”. they never took the journey to find these passions and instead elected for the easy way to have the excitement handed to them.

and honestly? nothing really matches the thrill of mdma. or i guess crack or heron or whatever you do. i have never felt anything like it. every nerve is awake and aware, i am hyper sensitive to all of life and my mind is clear. everything is interesting and awe inspiring. 

but thats not life. you cant carry that into the slums of the ghetto. you cant go outsie and stare blindly at the sun. you cannot do it. this is not life. and its okay to someones experience it. the same way its okay to experience the heat of the sun. you can do it lightly ad responsibly. any other way really harms you.

in the spirit of positivity, here are some things that really get me going:

- playing an entire song with no mistakes on guitar and possibly singing it without fucking up or forgetting the words. super exciting to my life in ways nothing else is. it’s not even like i’m trying to play for other people it’s just a personal knowledge that i can do this and play it and feel it and create it. 

- making good food. not just like cooking food but the satisfaction of the actual creation of making something thats really good or luxurious. 

- being physically close to the person i am in a relationship with. i like the warmth and i was very deprived of physical contact but i dont like it with strangers or friends either so its a rare and nice feeling to lay close with someone. 

- a very fascinating tv show. like one that i have to keep watching because i neeeed to know. thats a unique and interesting feeling of human beings; being really curious. i guess it’s lke reading a book but i dont read much at this stage in my life but i hope ill become hat kind of person and when i do itll probably be exciting to have so much material in a world ive rarely visited. 

- cats. i really love cats. all of the cats. i love visiting people’s cats and i like to become friends with them. cats are great because they feel very individual; no two cats are the same and no matter how much the owner impresses on to the cat, the cat is just a cat and it does what it wants so it’s like getting to make a new friend even if the person you’re visiting isnt that exciting. cats are always great. even the shitty grumpy ones. or the old ones that maybe arent into you. if you spend enough time, eventually they will be and you can be friends and people think you’re a cat whisperer. i have atleast two cat friends i see regularly but i see more cats than that. we’re just not friends yet. 

- a really good song. either with really good rocking bluesy music or clever/well written lyrics.