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twisted-petal · 8 years ago

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Death Continued: Part 5

... "And in case you're still reading... You weren't hiding anyone... When I warned you about my ability to figure shit out, I was giving you the chance to come clean... I told you I just wanted to know. We could have worked something out. Something more pleasant. And YOU... I can't even be vague enough on here for you. You should have listened before...

Gods I could go on forever... Just to finally be heard. For my words to finally be understood? It's not as though I ask for much action, or even a physical presence... A voice, an ear, or some lines of text.

Just stop fighting me... Stop lying... Stop fucking flirting, and stop trying to fix me! I just want some fucking honesty and support! I try so hard to do whatever I can for any of you who come to me. I have sacrificed a great deal for some. The least you could do is humour me for a bit...

/vent

Going to make this last bit quick; FB keeps trying to crash my phone and not posting this, and making me rewrite shit and I need to stop c-c

If you really need to comment or ask a question or whatever, I just ask that you do so in private and just be nice. Please? I've been avoiding social media and my phone in general (save those I felt I could trust and felt safest around...). I don't want to deal with any more crap. I just want to feel normal again, and a lot of people I've been going to or who have come up to me have not made that any easier. I can only hope I've made it clear to any of you, personally, that I have appreciate what little you were able to do for me. Especially not knowing the details about him or anything else that happened last year. I was so determined to fight everything without being too much of a burden, by trying to be sneaky in my search for help.

I didn't want pity! I thought that the less you all knew, the easier it would be to find a friend willing to give me the time, and once things went south it made things worse... For myself and those involved. I hope that it doesn't stick to any one of you, now that I've left you alone or you've left me behind. I get it... Still don't like it. Doesn't make it any less my fault.

If I get any of your usual responses I *will* get pissed off. Don't want to deal with any shit... I've had enough..."

The feedback from the was... Mostly undesirable. I got the responses I specifically asked not to receive, was promised more attention from those who lost contact with me and never received it, and all males tried taking advantage of my "vulnerability". I'm not an idiot...

On October 28th, I went to a Halloween party with my landlady and a friend of hers. She was on her phone the entire time, her friend vanished to go hit some dabs or whatever-the-fuck, and a gal mistook me for an ex's ex (I don't believe they're together) as we wore similar outfits (I saw her go by once that night), and so smacked my ass. Discomfort and awkwardness around. We were at Johnny B's, which added to the anxiety as I worried I would run into a different ex: If I am not friends with my exes, I am more or less terrified to run into them.

I wanted out of here... Around 1:30 I was convincing Corey to come take me home, as I was wearing a corset and fluffy skirt, shoes with heels (hate heels...), it was cold, and my ankle didn't let the cold or the shoes (I was wearing my cosplay from RTX). He finally agreed to come get me, and I invited him in to come chat as we used to - we were not together.

We fell asleep after I curled up to him, still not feeling all that great from my trip to Portland, which I told him. He rarely stayed a whole night, let alone not demand sex. I woke up to him yanking my pants down...

I have been called a liar, a whore, and accused of begging for attention by calling rape. Gods forbid I seek attention or support from those around me at all... I have lost many friends over this.

March 18th it was brought to me attention (in an irritating and vague way) that he had been arrested for sexual abuse. Because of my cowardice, he attacked someone else and on March 8th he was admitted to the local jailhouse. There are now three counts under his name. I don't know if it's from the same gal or others speaking up, but I wish I had the courage and finances to add to his sentence... His bail is set to $50,000 with no release date posted.

I have grown colder and bitchier than ever before, trying to explain to some why this is the case and faced with zero patience, tolerance, or support. Through everything, I have been alone.

I smoked heavily after this, trying to forget. Cut myself off from everyone around me. Eventually I started reaching out to those I was most comfortable around and now they are gone. I am too broken to them...

Puppy insisted I stay with him for a week up in Portland. My stay started off terribly... There were mobs going around to prostest Trump: Breaking windows, starting fires, vandalizing and shit, and he lived a few blocks from where they rallies took place. I kept him up-to-date on when my bus left and when I would arrive - texting him several times as the bus entered the city and I grew closer to the station.

Waiting outside the station, bums who frequented there would ooze closer and a couple confronted me. He assured me he was on his way with his friend (who I was eager to finally meet). Discomfort and anxiety increasing as I was surrounded by these strange people trying to talk to me, I finally made my own way to his place; Puppy's place wasn't all that for from the station, just across the street and over a small bridge.

He finally made it to the station just a few minutes after I got to his complex - he was furious. I was scared and alone... He knew when I would be there! I kept him up-to-date! Why wasn't he just there...... Why would he leave me waiting like that... Alone...

I very much enjoyed the short time I was able to spend with him... He had to work, but we had a couple days to venture out. He also forgot what day I was leaving... It felt like he wasn't at all pleased with my visit... I was mopey and slow from not feeling well, and I wasn't smiling much... I completely destroyed my time with him...

I spent my days watching videos to help me smile more, reading one of the books I got at Powell's, and cleaning his apartment. I swear that boy hadn't cleaned since the day he moved in. It was the least I could do for him - I wanted to feel useful again and care for him as he cared for me... I wanted him to feel relaxed and comfortable and come back to a clean environment. I wanted to see him smile... His smile is my absolute favorite sight, and he always hid it from me because he doesn't like his smile lines. I adore him. Every inch of him... He was my muse, my comfort, my confidence, and my joy.

I don't need him for these feelings, but he was a major source of these that I greatly welcomed - I appreciated his presence far more than he could ever understand or that would matter to him... I wish I could have done the same for him... He's so hard on himself... If he wasn't such a poop-face. But it doesn't matter... He has made it perfectly clear that I am too broken for him... Saying he just wants to focus on himself, only to inform me he's found someone he wants to get close to... Always when I start smiling inside again... I truly wish him luck in finding a mate that will allow him to see all the amazing colors in life that he's missing. I wonder if he ever figured out what those new colors I showed him meant... I hope they weren't bad colors...

- Sidenote: He told me once long ago so I can't remember the name or details exactly, but he sees moods/feelings as color: Synesthesia, I believe. I looked it up to be sure, but there are several different types of color associated sensory conditions, and I don't know all he experiences.... Sensory experience* sounds much better than "condition". Wiki says it's a "phenomenon".

Honestly... I could write just as much as I have now about all he means to me and my interactions with him on the two and a half years I've known him... So...

We visited Powell's, checked out the art store near his place, and took a bus to the comic and pet shops he goes to. I picked up a few books and comics that I very much want to complete, and I had such a great time being out and about with him. I had shut myself away after what had happened... I'd been feeling so dead inside. Still a bit of a shut-in, but I'm finally getting out more to get some things done.

Living with who I am... I continue to struggle with feeling at all decent about myself... Corey being in jail has made job searching easier, as I no longer live around the area he frequented and there's no chance of bumping into him, but my legs have grown weak since my accident at Michaels and it has made me a tad lazy... It doesn't take much anymore for my ankle to start hurting, and my knees have grown a tad wobbly. My confidence is still shot, depression less crippling but still heavy, and I'm just not the bad-ass chick with the smile that brightens any room, anymore...

Actually... There are so many more details I want to get into - of my recent days and those from events I've already described - but I feel I've said enough... I have no one to talk with and I just wish to speak. For someone to finally listen to me and sympathize in some way. To not be spoken to in a textbook, regurgitated manner. I miss having someone to connect with... A back-and-forth conversation about anything: troubles, success, interests, displeasures, complains, approvals - everything.

Ducky told me long ago that it is important to vent... Before he and I got together I bottled up everything and he saw how it was destroying me. Those years before him have been condensed and intensified this year and a fouth, with all that has happened in this short time... There is so much left unsaid.

Today (upon writing this) the family gets together to pick what they want of Grams' old possessions... I have been drinking this afternoon... I'd picked up drinking so I could grow sleepy enough to pass out as my roommate games late into the night and I cannot find sleep. Today I drink for stress and anxiety and sadness. This will not become a habit; I have always been good at avoiding being consumed by addictive substances.

As much as I repeat to myself on a daily basis that I should not exist, I will live on and continue to fight. And no; my roommate does not comfort me, console, or converse with me. He is just there. Sharing a room with a dude suuuuuuucks and I am glad I did not accept his confession. He has proven to be disgusting, wasteful, and inconsiderate. I am still thankful for the invitation to stay here, though. It's just difficult and tiring...

고맙습니다, thank you.

([I hope I wrote that right, I'm still learning and have found too many ways to say the same thing... 고마 ㅝㅛ?)]

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twisted-petal · 8 years ago

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Death Continued: Part 4

FB vent post: I thought I could handle this on my own but I just can't... I've only told one person and I wanted it to stay that way, but after everything - fuck it. I'm going to vent and everyone can just fuck off. None of you were there for me when I needed someone at all last year, and I won't have any backtracking bullshit. No. I did not ask for help with this specifically because IT'S FUCKING DIFFICULT TO TALK ABOUT TO EVEN THOSE I TRUST THE MOST, which I suppose isn't saying much. Clearly I have trust issues. I have typed up similar posts and personal messages a million times since this happened, and I still don't know if I'll post this one... I never know what I want to say or how much detail to go into or how much this could hurt me further or whatever. I just keep hoping this will be another ignored post. Any time I try to vent or ask for help or whatever it is, I'm just accused of begging for attention or whiny or whatever and I get bitched at... Not my intent, though I wouldn't have complained too much. So fuck you. Imma bitch. At least getting the words out helps... Yes. This is a boo-hoo emo love story. Yes. I firmly believe I did this to myself and everything surrounding this is all my fault, despite the nagging instict to avoid cliches and stereotypes, or fuckin' - whatever. AND THAT MEANS I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY OF THAT SHIT AFTER I POST THIS. I've heard it all. It doesn't help. I UNDERSTAND AND APPRECIATE THE EFFORT AND SENTIMENTS, but it just doesn't click with me. I wish it did. Just not what I need... Aaaaannnd yes there are still people I'm hiding this from. I know they won't keep their mouth shut, and the entire reason I went to Portland for a week was to keep the one person who knew any of this, from digging up my ex's name and calling the police (even with this ONE person, I couldn't talk about my "BF". I wasn't allowed. Even when he *did* allow me to give us a couple status). So let's start this shit off with a bit of backstory: I have a bleeding heart; fucking hate everyone, but I never stop caring or loving (and yes, if you even made it this far, this means you). Quick to love, slow to forget. When I love I put my all into everything, and I try to ask for little in return: Be honest, be respectful, and gimmer all the attentions (And put up with my bitchin'. Because if I don't vent I explode and I had 2 major anxiety attacks and 1 minor, within the last 3 months of the year.); keep me happy, take care of me, and you can have anything you want. I spoil the FUCK out of my partners as best I can (I hope you saw this...). Some of you know of one or two of these incidents: those who know of my trip to the emergency clinic in Portland (morning after the Grump Live show... Which was rad!), and the others who know of my collapse just last week before the move. Aaaannnywho... More to the point of all this... Very few of you know who I was... with(?) all last year, and that is because he didn't want people to know. At first I understood because I can be the same in wanting to keep most personal things, well, personal. As time passed, the way he treated me grew worse (primarily verbal/emotional), and in the bedroom... I tried to play along... Granted... I loved him. I wanted to be my best for him. It's what I do... But I realized that's all that mattered. My gifts, food, money, attention, heart, support, effort... Nothing else I did was ever recognized; At least, I seldom felt any appreciation outside of my bed. We were only ever in my room, unless we passed each other at work, which was rare even if he actually told me his schedule. The convenience of his department was nice until he screwed me the first time... He worked right in my path! I worked there 3 years before him and I was not about to change my route to and from the breakroom! Grr! Making me too stubborn to avoid his stupid face... And the sentimental fuck that I am doomed myself right then and there. Well, all this BS continued the entire year, yet we were never actually a couple. And don't get me wrong, there is a great deal about this dillweed to enjoy (ex: humorous, witty, kinda smart, fairly talented, cute, interesting; whatever), but it wasn't about my love for him or how he repeatedly broke my heart as if he were shootin' for a Gods damn Platinum Trophy. It's a bit about the shittiest year I've dredged through, and a bit about how much smoother that shit would have slipped by had he just been there for me when he promised he would. Just *once*. Instead of breaking down all the self esteem I had been working so diligently to build, by shredding into every little detail I had come to accept with who and what I am; or tossing me aside like his used cum rag. Just to get his dick wet and stay alpha. He would promise and swear until it would be too late for me to find help elsewhere. Every so often he would do something for me (for a "fee"). Just enough to keep me hoping and trying again, and eventually I could follow his patterns and try to get some safety nets up. Didn't stop whatever happened from hurting, of course. And he did this with everything! Pushing my hope to the limits... Dragging me along. There was always an excuse as to why I was the best but could never be officially "his girl". His slutty ex being his number one excuse, and of course he never told me the full story, if he ever spoke a fraction of the truth. If any of you remember my post about never making someone feel like shit for not wanting children? That came from him telling me I had no choice. I am female. I must breed. After whining and complaining to win me back, he told me that he couldn't accept me unless I gave him a child. Even though he reassured me when we first started talking that he had his son and that's all he needed. Which was a *major* relief to me because I told him I never want children, and medically I may never be able to. Win-win!... Then he started talking with the mother and they want a brother for him... So that made me useful... Though, I was never allowed to meet them. So the options he presented me: Agree to give him a child and he'll finally accept me as "his girl", or no child and he goes back to the mother he can't get along with to go knock her up again (according to him, she refused to ever sleep with anyone else, because he was her first). There is a massive chance I could never give birth, and he did everything he could to make me feel like shit because I couldn't (and didn't) want to give his son a sibling... B'scuse me?? Who said they would have been siblings? Or grown up at all together? He couldn't ever promise to stay committed to me or any child, yet he wouldn't accept me without promising my own life and the life of an unborn child to him. One example of his overbearing ways. My body. My rules. ... That didn't stop him from being too rough... From going too far... It didn't mean anything to him when I told him to stop or I was hurting or that I couldn't breathe... I would have to beg just to see him, and it could only ever be long after dark. Again, I blame myself for everything, and many of you have already helped drill that in... I should have stayed away. I shouldn't have given him so many chances. But it was all me; I wouldn't stop letting him come back... I get it... I fucked myself. I caused my own pain and misery. I knew what he was capable of, but I trusted him, nonetheless. He made sure of it and I fell for it. I've wanted so badly that he pay for what he did to me, for taking advantage of me... But I loved him. I wouldn't let my friend call the police. I couldn't let them take a father from a child, as much of a scumbag he is... And he had recently become a department manager after years of bullshit and I didn't want to ruin all that work... Because I will forever be too nice for my own good, and I can't bring myself to destroy someone else's life... All I wanted was one person to be there for me while my life fell to pieces around me. Just one person to show they cared and that they were at my side. Support. A single person to keep me afloat and make it through. Somebody to just listen to me rant and eat some pizza with or some shit. Anything to help me feel like an actual person. So I would like to take this moment here to thank whoever is still reading for helping me feel like the sex doll he made me feel I was, when all I was asking for some help or advice. Thank you for pushing me aside when I came to you with tears, unable to articulate proper sentences and my messages were riddled with typos. Thank you for being that one person I needed to feel everything was going to be okay and I wasn't just some bitch whore. Thank you for listening and still accepting me, and not throwing me onto the backburner. Thank you for not forgetting about me. It means a great deal to me that those who I care a great deal for, actually gives two shits about me or appreciates my existence... Is a friend really so much to ask for...? Is it the respect or understanding? The acceptance? The kindness? Tolerance? A bit of attention or companionship? When am I asking for too much? Honesty? Loyalty? I mean, I could pull up a Thesaurus and Dictionary and really drag this betch out. I suppose what bothers me most, is that no matter what I said or how much I asked, no matter what I promised him, he just couldn't be honest with me. He couldn't allow me to leave my heart out of it, or to look elsewhere. Why couldn't he just be honest?? Why did he have to fuck me over? Take advantage of me? Why couldn't he just stop! I told him I still wasn't feeling well. That I was physically hurting. To STOP. I said please... But I couldn't be too loud... There was a little girl in the next room. I should have been louder. I should have kicked more. And I should have gotten away... Why can't any of you just be honest?! Stop trying to lie and trick me! If I haven't already handed you my heart on a platter, I can usually catch the BS, but it doesn't make it any better... Just tell me! Go away. Shoosh. Not now. You can't deal with it. You just want sex. If there is something you want from me or something you don't want to deal with or whatever it is, just SAY IT. ([It's still too long... Another post!)]

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twisted-petal · 8 years ago

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Death Continued: Part 3

([I’m doing a shit-poor job with timelines, trying to compress these stories/rants. The trip was two days after my birthday)]

Here’s the thing: I kept offering to pay for gas and she only accepted half the amount of one tank fill, I handed her my card and told her to use it to feed the parking meter, as well as buy food and any other supplies she needed, and even had my card when she went to pick up my meds, and I repeatedly told her that she could return home on her own and I had plenty to take a bus home. She wouldn’t use my money. She wouldn’t accept my offers. She refused to go home as she wanted to be sure I was taken care of. Suddenly I am at fault for the money she spent on our trip and for missing a day of work. Puppy didn’t even like her there, and was annoyed at how she was “caring” for me. She also bleached his towel with her weird face cream… Knowing we were staying a night there and that her face crap stains fabrics, she didn’t bring her own towel. ¬__¬ I’m just a freak and wanted to share his things and was intentionally a dick by not bringing my towel… But I didn’t bleach anything!

The doctor at the Clinic was irritating enough as is. She insisted that I had good poisoning, despite me repeatedly telling her I hadn’t even eaten anything and that this had happened to me fairly recently. She prescribed me pills for gas (or something, I forget as they didn’t do anything for me) and nausea (which didn’t help at all, unlike the one she gave me in the waiting room that worked immediately). This illness happened to me twice more.

The last time this happened to me was at the end of December, and the landlady said we needed to be out of the house the next day. No other heads up as to when we were moving, and this was at least three months before she had promised our move would be, as well as a month, two months, 3 weeks, 2 weeks, and 3 months after the date she said we would be moving - to name a few.

We fought for the first time since I moved in, she threw a tantrum and tossed things around as I tried to find clarification, express concerns, and, well get pissed that she kept changing the dates and how sudden things were. We chilled, she apologized, and I went to take a shower to relax before packing.

Feeling ill instead of relaxed, I cut my shower short, stepped out and grabbed my towel to dry off, and found myself on the floor (this also has to do with an ordeal that happened in October). I started texting my mother and wasn’t making any sense, so she sent her sister over to check things out. I was on the bathroom floor for almost an hour before finding the strength to stand, slowly pull some clothes on, and apparently go around the corner to my room - I barely remember getting there.

Mother refused to go near the house. She did not like the landlady and she had been to the house a few times in the past, as it was a place people would go to do hard drugs… I had been told by her son that she was clean, didn’t drink anymore, and just smoked weed on occasion. Right. Mother was also finishing a program with whatever place she was in to prove she didn’t have to go to jail or some shit. This was a house she couldn’t enter. -Side story: She graduated and is doing a fair job at adopting. Even though she keeps lying to me and breaking the damn rules I gave her when allowing her to borrow my fucking car. *supaishi* She isn’t even taking me out to drive, as per the stipulations to using my car, which I could really freaken use right now. She is still doing a decent job at keeping up with paying for insurance and her half of the phone bill; Although, she’s been less prompt about it. *deep breath* I am trying to be patient. She’s trying to adult for once and a lot is going on for the both of us. I’m just stressed.

Anyway. My aunt determined that I was having an anxiety attack. Anxiety, panic, stress, whatever it was, it was terrible. I was stuck in bed for almost a week. That being said, we had to be out of the house by 5pm New Years Day, and it was December 29th. No one could/would come help me. I managed a few boxes on my own, and my aunt forgot that she promised to come help before coming in at the last couple hours to help through things out of my room. I tried calling Corey, as he had come by that night to try to be a decent person (we were not together at the time, but it was the best night we had together. I didn’t have to beg to be held or anything. We talked, cuddled, and slept), but he was too busy hanging out with his sister and her friends (as always…). We texted a couple times after that, primarily me trying desperately to believe there was some good in him, then broke all contact between us…

Just a few days after the move I was informed my grandmother finally went to see a doctor. She was diagnosed with bone cancer and emphasima, and an estimate of 6 months to live - She lasted 3. It was guessed that within three months before this, she had lost a sizeable chunk of bone in her hip and ribs. Since being diagnosed, she kept developing more problem, or they would find new things that were wrong. I wasn’t updated with most of it, but what I did know of was the abscess on her lower back/rear, and whatever yeast infection in her mouth (I can’t remember at the moment, though I would update FB each time I got new information), and a urinary infection that was found after I convinced her to go to the hospital - the family couldn’t get her to go, so when I leaned down to hug her before I went back home, I whispered in her ear to go. She knew that when I spoke, I meant what I said; I spoke with purpose, as I don’t speak often.

Shortly after being diagnosed she had an allergic reaction to the Percocet, losing her appetite and barely drinking (which helped form the infection). She was too haunted by memories of her parents and husband to fight on. Mother did not take me to see her during her last week, knowing she was getting worse.

A couple weeks before she passed I moved out of the psycho house to live with an old co-worker and his three housemates. I needed to wait out her place until midnight when he got off work. She got to meet all the critters. Wistala was first as she also lives with some bone loss, and having her sitting on Grams seemed to motivate her to finally eat the food we gave her. Jackness sat with her for about an hour as she kept dozing off while petting him, he would shift when her hand stopped, waking her up to pet him again. He eventually moved up to her lap (he normally doesn’t like sitting on people).

I took a couple picture of her with Wistala and Jack. I’m also not going to go into detail about some of the things that I found out during this time that we a harsh slap to the face of how much I didn’t mean to her compared to other and all this other nonesense, because, well, whatever now… She would, however, take anything I said into consideration and actually listened to me. I was the only one treating her as her, and she knew to listen when I spoke.

Now… I have no real way of easing into this, so I’m just going to throw it in now. This was the vent post I made on my alt account… Which will be in a new post as it is too large. I’ll be sure they’re posted together and just end this one now. Would be nice if I could actually choose the exact time... Once I get everything written up I'll just post them all.

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twisted-petal · 8 years ago

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Have a break from the emo shit with my MH4U character that I drew for #cutiesaturday. First armor set, wielding the Kaiser Blade in Axe form. Damn thing was a bitch to draw and I had difficulty finding references... Some day it will have color.

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twisted-petal · 8 years ago

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Death Continued: Part 2

I need to be up in 4 hours, and the only reason why I am even up writing this so late is because my roomie is still gaming and I can’t eVER GET SLEEP. Which is about as much as I will speak of him because what if he finds this or something and I don’t want to deal with shit, I would rather just bottle all this shit up and deal…

There is just so much to say about this lady and everything that happened, but I’ve already dragged on more than anticipated, and I am so freaken sleepy… Gods he chews his fucking food so loud I can hear it through my headphones don’t even get me started on him slurping all his remotely moist food… I also just need to forget it all.

Now… Moving in was a bit strange, and looking back now I should have taken what I first experienced as a million signs: She didn’t have the room cleaned up as she had told me, she didn’t have a key prepared as promised and so took the key from a friend who visited nearly daily, I was told by my partner that she would drink at night and he would catch her dancing in her room, she often didn’t notice him (or me) come in later in the day, and she wouldn’t respond to messages often and would forget plans/times.

Day and night she would blast country music through two radios, and after I got internet hooked up it was 2 radios and YouTube playing Country and Adele…

She would smoke weed all day, then anywhere between 2pm and 6pm she would break out the gallon of whiskey. Didn’t matter who was over (which included children she would watch), she would start dozing off in her seat or shuffle to her room, then wake up between midnight and 3am to make a mess in the kitchen making food. I needed to stay up to be sure she wouldn’t burn the place down… I’ve woken up to smoke from her forgetting food or not paying attention.

I started taking up watching the girl she was “hired” to watch as things got worse. Her father paid me a couple of times because of this. An 8 y/o girl should not have to go to someone to say they found shit in their babysitter’s underwear that was left on the bathroom floor. I despise children, but I will care for them when need be…

Her financial problems were discovered to be caused be her excessive smoking and alcohol addiction. Random people would show up at the house for mini parties, walk in unannounced, throughout the summer she was just leave for a week or more without word to stay with her 20-30 y/o boyfriend and left me to care for her two dogs, cat, and millions of plants, and I had to stop searching for a job because she would have a freak out and her drinking would get worse. I am too nice for my own good.

The agreement was that we weren’t going anywhere until spring. I was not informed until some time after settling in that she was selling the house. This was not the first time I was left in the dark… She was separated from her husband (still married) who lived elsewhere with his bitch of a girlfriend. He owned the house.

As time went on, the move date kept fluctuating and growing ever closer. The father of the girl I would watch over eventually moved in after running into housing trouble, but barely stayed a month as he over heard our “landlady” talking with her husband and head him say that the two of us leaving by the end of the month was too soon.

He found a place close by and was able to move.

Now let’s throw some vague numbers around: Landlady was getting $450 from the both of us (and soon she would be getting rent from another dude that I will bitch about later), $20 whenever she “watched” his daughter (even when he lived with us), her husband paid a couple bills that I forget, as well as gave her a check each month of $500.

That’s roughly $1,500 a month, as well as food stamps (and saving $50 on the internet I paid for, which she needed for her phone). She admitted to only spending a hundred or two on bills, and $30 for her phone. What of the rest of the money? Mysteryy~

[(I done did fuck. Had these in Queue and I was going to rearrange them later, but I forgot and so it’s just going to show up once a day in order how I wrote it. It was a busy-ass day… Yesterday. It’s 1am again. Wanted to proof-read more, though. I suppose this will show up the 3rd day, soooo… Whatever)]

Shortly after the father left, the old shit-stain moved in… Gods I want to just rant about this disgusting, lazy asshole. Obnoxious, overbearing, couldn’t listen,wouldn’t, wouldn’t stop touching me or insulting because he was SOOOOO funny. Fuckin’ hated that unappreciative ass-wipe. Seriously. I gave up my king bed so he didn’t have to sleep on an air mattress at the new place, and he return the favor by complaining it was too big, leaning the king mattress against the wall for a shelf, stacked the two twins that served as the box frame, then set the air mattress on top. I slept in my closet on a pile of blankets and pillows; Granted, I did make it pretty damn comfortable and warm. Still hated him.

Continuing at the first house: I was back with Corey again. Our fights were increasing, and so was his kindness and heart. As well as his demands… He was more accepting and encouraging of who I was, a bit more respectful, but he was also more scarce in his visits. We also had the greatest day ever hiking Table Rock: Taking hours to buy him some damn shorts, running up the trail, his astonishment in the world around him (he hadn’t done anything outdoorsy since he was young, aside from taking his son to the beach or some shit), watching him face his fear of heights and stress at my boldness to stand closer to the edge, rushing from whatever set of eyes he apparently saw and we made our dark decent down (I tried to warn him…), finding a break in the trees just as the largest orange moon we had ever seen emerged from behind a mountain - standing together in complete awe… *ahem* I shouldn’t be reminiscing on such fond times… I shouldn’t be trying to defend the good in him… Maybe I just feel it makes me more an imbecile to not express all that was positive? There is no excuse…

His existence gave me a distraction from the world I was trapped in… We were completely different in so many ways, fought constantly, connected so well, shared special interests, and of course, my bleeding heart held him close.

He was cruel, impatient, full of Italian anger and old-fashioned judgments, and, again, sexually demanding. He often made it seem unintentional, played innocent, and claimed restraint, but I knew what he was trying to do. A part of me wanted to be, well, wanted. At 18 I was taught that the only way I could earn love, the only way someone could love me, is if I pleased my partner. This increases with each partner, as I feel more and more obligated to please them and that is the only reason I exist to them.

I believe my only purpose in life is to serve others in one way or another, and if I have nothing left to give or if I need any little thing at all, I am a complete waste of existence. What makes this worse is that I enjoy seeing people happy; I enjoy knowing that I have help bring a smile to someone, from a lover to a stranger.

He took full advantage of this… More so than any other…

Every Holiday throughout 2016 was ruined because of him, including my birthday, and from July to March the landlady intensified. Save for Halloween… She was a part of this, but he ruined it two days before… In my next post I with paste the vent post I made on my alt FB account that goes into further detail and is also fairly vague. I just went into some detail about Corey here to get it out of the way, and I cut contact with him after I moved.

Recap after side rant: I had nowhere else to go, needed to stay home to help landlady deal with her shit and help keep her from further spiraling while trying to encourage progress in her .ordeals, she kept changing our move month and wouldn’t work with me in actually finding a new place to live or even look on her own, she kept changing which town she wanted to move to which left me without any idea of where I was going to live or where to apply for work, and she wouldn’t even pack her stupid house.

In order to spend my birthday with someone I had to offer to pay for their meal; thankfully, the father from earlier worked where we went to eat and he paid for the drink I ordered. He’s a fairly nice dude, just a complete dweeb. And ho-bag. Bro could learn a thing or two. Find some structure. He’s a bit of a mooch, but he’s not an ass; He’s a fairly caring goat.

The friend I went to lunch with ended up buying us tickets to see the Grumps live in Portland, and we were able to stay a night with my favorite asshole… Gods… He will never leave my heart… Despite everything, he is the one I will never let go of. I hate him so much… My love for him will never die, no matter how far we grow apart, or how many I love after him; We never had the chance to be together (which makes me sound eVEN MORE PATHETIC I KNOW), and it crushes me to know he doesn’t feel as fondly for me. My Puppu… Words…

A few days before we headed up to Portland my friend got into an accident and after mulling some options over, she decided to rent a car for a couple days. I offered to help her out, and she agreed that I help with gas and maybe a part of the payment.

I wasn’t feeling too well from all the anxiety at home and Corey yelling at me again (especially knowing I “used to” share feelings with Puppu. We were barely back together, technically not. Didn’t even tell me he was going to be out of town for my birthday… So much drama…), I wasn’t exactly eating, and the morning after the show I was in excruciating pain, shaking uncontrollably, fairly delirious, and vomitting/dry-heaving.

This was really a bummer after enjoying the Grumps live and… Making out with Puppu in his bed while after my friend fell asleep on the couch. c.c; Just a few smooches…

I miss him so much…

The “friend” who took me to the show made me feel like absolute garbage for making her stay an extra day and call in to work, and spend money on my meds (As Puppy insisted on taking me to the Emergency Clinic). She later wanted me to pay for her rental - or at least a decent portion of it.

([And continued on tomorrow! Maybe I’ll change it to a more frequent update…)]

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twisted-petal · 8 years ago

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Death Continued: Part 1

When he would get home he would greet Ninja, then sit on his computer or play his games. Shooing Ninja away because he wanted to play. It was seldom that I would ever see him interact with the cat more than 30 seconds aside from when he had company over and he was showing them the cat.

Now, I never enter someone’s room without permission. Even when they walk in while talking to me. I’m like a freaken vampire - I need a verbal invite to cross the the door frame. This has been the case since I was fairly young and continues today. He had given me prior permission for if I wanted to borrow certain things, which I didn’t accept as I always want to ask each time and didn’t need anything.

The only times I entered his room were to: set his mail on the edge of his desk that was closest to the door, reset my router a couple times, and to clean the litter box when I realized he was going to be gone for a while.

Often, the house would be filled with the smell of litter and feces. Normal house cat problems. I don’t even care about most animal stank, and I was doing my best to keep the rabbit scent under control so as to not bother him. I asked anyone who entered if they noticed and not one person realized I had rabbits in the house. Paranoid… Worried of disturbing him with their nasty urine.

One of the times he vanished I realized he wasn’t keeping up with the box… This whole rant is because, well, I get passionate about animals and their well being. The last time I went in to clean the box it was absolutely horrid. Ninja would pee on my towel or bathroom rug, occasionally, and one day when my partner and I walked into the house the smell was just overwhelming. There was litter all over the floor, shit filled the box, and barely any litter left in it. My housemate’s mother had shown up not long after, I confessed what we did, and she admitted knowing of this issue and his lack of responsibility with animals. I wasn’t calling him out. She brought it up.

Making this clear: These were some of my observations over about 8 months. Because of our differing shifts, it was rare that I would even see him. Generally I would see my housemate for a brief moment on my days off (if I wasn’t sleeping most the day or he was actually home, which appeared rare on its own), or during one of his little surprise parties.

To close this up and not rant too much on this… And no; It’s not short and sweet.

All of this, and I kept my mouth shut. His life; his house. I didn’t want any confrontation and I was just too tired and sore to deal with anything. Like the sink filled with dirty dishes and disgusting water for days to a week or more, and the food and pots/pans all over the stove for just as long (I could deal with that… More so worried about the cat).

I spoke up three time: twice to poke my head out of my door to ask him to move his party to his room instead of outside my door at 3am because, well, I wanted to freaken sleep and I had to work. He gave me attitude in return, but thankfully complied shortly after. The third time was after his party guests fucked in the bathroom against my wall, they used my towel for clean-up, and stole my fUCKING ZELDA NECKLACE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. And ate all my Hot Pockets… I didn’t even get one and I hadn’t had any in years and it was some new spicy flavor or whatever… Uncool. Tried to be nice. Tried to stay calm. Really didn’t think I was being unreasonable.

One night, my partner brings me home from work before his shift, housemate has guests again, but this time they’re quiet… Feels weird. After a few he knocks. “You have 30 days to leave.” As he holds a piece of paper at me, which I ignore. “What’s the deal? Like, what happened?” “You have 30 days.” “Why? What’s the reason?” “30 days. Sign the paper.” “No; Not until you tell me what’s going on.” “30 days.” “Tell me a reason. You never said anything.” “30 days.” “Why?” “Sign the paper.” “Tell me the reason…” “30 days.” “I’m not signing until you actually talk to me.” “Sign the paper and get out.” He then pushed it against me then walked away.

What the actual Hell.

I had caught him a couple days before, sneaking into my room. 46 minutes after my partner and I left the house; Every so often I record the buns to see how they fair while I’m away and to make so no one is escaping and jumping back to hide (Toph is a jerk).

He was home before I left, I told him we were leaving, but he still knocked on my door, called out my name, entered anyway, then saw my laptop on, reatreated, and sent me a message roughly ten minutes after.

He had posted on FB about his Wii U Gamepad cord having cuts in it, where he and his friends were trying to (essentially) prove that I “sabotaged” his device. I found out about this through his brother. I had no clue of the post or the cord. After finding the photo I could easily tell it was most likely Toph (despite what many guaranteed him would be an impossible angle for a rabbit, as they’ve owned many rodents), as he’s chewed many of my cords and Ninja chases him behind the couch - over the cushion I put up to block him.

They assumed I was jealous he went to Vegas. I hate the place. I have zero interest in ever going there. Why would I cut cords to look like rabbit marks? Why would I cut someone’s charge cable?? Why would I immediately apologize, and offer my own cable while I buy him a new one if I was trying to “sabatoge out of jealousy?!? I felt terrible! I wouldn’t let the rabbits into the rest of the house after that! Even though they hated the cement out back… Soft paws :c

In the end, he also accused me of: ~ Stealing his mail, to which resulting in him keeping the mailbox key with him at all times. This was eventually resolved and I was able to convince him to put the key back on the hook where we kept it the entire time prior. Not even going to get into the tone and accusations of that lengthy conversation… ~ Going through his room. I guess to use or take his things? I’m not even sure. ~ Abusing his cat??? He would lock Ninja in his room the entire time he was away, without his food, then come home and loudly apologize for locking him up and that it was my fault…

Reminder: I fucking loved that cat. I cared for Ninja every single day since he just showed up. I was gone 12 hours a day. He was gone at least 10 (sometimes less, sometimes more). Ninja was locked up without food for about 10 hours during the day, then locked up at night while the housemate slept (a normal night). I only hoped he fed him some before locking him in at night.

He turned his family, people who have at least known of me for 15 years, and people who didn’t know me, against me. Turned me into a monster… Telling him to dunk my toothbrush in the toilet and all sorts of cruel things…

What the fuck did I do to deserve all of this?!

Skipping over more drama regarding him…

Contacting anyone I could, I tried to find a new home… Either they didn’t have room or they weren’t looking to move. My partner was moving, but he was going with his housemates into a house with no room and should have been condemned. My grandmother refused my animals…

She pittied them for being caged, even though she knew I took them outside regularly, and Jackness had yet to see the inside of a cage (Toph wouldn’t mind his manners or his mouth).

I had my biggest emotional breakdown…

Finally, a friend from college informed me that his mother needed some financial help and a room to spare. She agreed to let me stay, with the animals, for $450/month (important for her rant, later).

After renting a storage unit, buying a cage for Jackness, and moving them into my new room - I leave for RTX (Rooster Teeth Expo in Austin, TX.). My partner offered to move My belongings for me and clean the room so there wasn’t any mess left behind, as I had two weeks from the (misspelled) 30 day notice to my trip, and he wanted me to relax a bit before such a long journey.

I packed, sobbed every night, worked, didn’t sleep, sobbed some more, and…

Fired. I had taken too many days off in my search for a place to live that they had to terminate me… I am still struggling… 8 months later…

[(It’s 6am and I have been composing this for 5 hours… Time to charge my phone again and take a bit of a break… May as well start the new subjects in a new post. There is a spider a foot from me on thOHGODSIT'SRUNNING)]

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twisted-petal · 8 years ago

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To Those Who Thought I Died: I Did

This is going to be quite the lengthy one. I have no clue who is even on here, I have not checked, and I do not care; This is just going to be a massive vent post as I have no one to talk to, and the few who know half of this shit are either gone because of it, or I did not like their responses and I do not feel like dealing with more of it. Some of this will also be me trying to convince myself that I’m not as fucked up as I think I am, and that I truly did what I thought was best to avoid confrontation or whatever bullshit that happened.

“2016 was the worst year ever!!” Many people said this, and for me it’s still 2016. Too many thing have happened since the start of last year, up until now, that have completely shattered who I am was. All that work I put into finding myself, creating myself, and nearly coming to accept my existence. Here I am at ground level.

Most of this shit is my fault, and despite what some have told me, I believe I am to blame for every second of every incident - whether I understand it or not. I am supposed to take responsibility for my own problems as an adult, right?

At the start of last year I got incredibly sick from walking to and from work all winter. As much as I hate taking days off, I just could not function, and they barely had me working any days those three weeks, anyway. I took the bite out of my paycheck. Even though my savings from my previous job were meager, I knew I could take it fine enough (so long as there were no emergencies). This sicky tidbit comes into play later.

Around this time I was also (sort of) dating a co-worker - Corey… After spending more money than I am proud to admit to bake him cupcakes from scratch (I had no baking supplies, either) for Valentine’s Day, he tells me he spent the morning with an ex (who he caught getting plowed by her ex, in their home), and that he realized he still had feelings for her, so who would not come to see me. Gee. I wonder what happened. ¬__¬ Maybe it didn’t. Maybe it did. All I know is that I am too nice for my own good, and yes, he is going to be a major topic throughout this post; I accepted him back.

There was a side to him that truly glowed for me, a part of someone I adore, and a part that he (and many others) does not show anyone else. His passions, his past, his fears, and all sorts of dumb shit. Because of this, and the few times he would surprise me with thoughtful action, I endured far more than I should have. I will get into his sexual guilt, later. Maybe… Iunno, just done talking about him for now.

One of the nice things about him was that if I had a hard time walking home, all I needed to do was make him feel bad enough that I was hurting or that it was pouring rain and he would finally pick me up and take me home because he was worried. To avoid more about him…

Almost three years ago I injured myself at an old job and I was never able to the injury checked out or fixed. No Worker’s Comp as my store manager saw me as a liability since there were no cameras, and she believed I wasn’t following the rules; Ironically enough, this was the one day I was following the rules. Longer story short, as this is a post for 2016-present: I slipped on the stool I needed to reach the top of the trailer (solo truck unloader), twisting my ankle, banging my knee on a point of the metal accordion rollers on my way to the trailer floor, landing on the side of my foot, and twisting it a couple more times. I then continued unloading the truck, helped everyone get the U-Boats (weird carts) in their place, and finished my shift stocking what I was assigned. Then stocked my departments the next day. Aaaannnd just kept on working

At my last job, it was a three mile walk to and from, which I started in fall, along with moving in with a friend’s brother (more on that ordeal, later), and with my already bad knees hating the cold, I was now dealing with an ankle that absolutely despised the cold and gave me Hell. Walk to work, stand at the register, stock shelves, arrange inventory (Christmas trees, lights, various decor, plants, soil/mulch, cement bird baths/lawn statues, grills, mowers, lawn furniture/umbrellas, pots, etc.), run carry-outs/help load trucks and shit, cover other departments, push pallets, and other stuff I should have been doing on my ankle, then finally walk home to take care of my bunny boys, maybe eat some noodles while watching Game Grumps, then sleeeeeep.

It is not news to anyone that as known me for very long at all that I do not like to burden anyone; I do not like asking for/accepting help or complaining/making a fuss over things, nor do I like confrontation. I just deal with shit. I do as I’m told. I see to others’ comforts and needs before my own. I am too nice for my own good. Yet somehow, as I’m about to vent/rant/vrent (about), I got kicked out of where I was. I seriously have no clue why! He legit refused to explain. I asked. The entire time I was there he would not tell me a single fucking thing! Such as: late-night parties I would come home to at midnight, leaving town for 3-7 days where I just assumed the role of cat-sitter (nothing new there, and guess what, more on this in a bit), needing any help around the house or financially, letting me know he lost his job (saw unemployment letters while sorting the mail. I get it’s his business, but we live together and I’m there to help?), if I bothered him in any way, or, just… Anything.

Point being: I wouldn’t ask for a ride, and I would frequently turn offers down. When I had my early morning shifts my roommate offered me a couple rides since he was up early anyway, but after a ride or two I started to feel bad as he ended up needing to wake up earlier to take me. There were a few I accepted because they seemed too concerned to deny, and once or twice I called up my roommate due to some shady characters hanging around me after my shift (when I was scheduled late at night).

Honestly, I did what I could to just stay out of his hair… Cleaning the few dishes I used (generally ate noodle cups - more on this rant and more in a sec) immediately or the next day, didn’t mess with his stuff even though he gave me permission on most things, and avoided asking for assistance or favors or asked to borrow anything, and I tried offering things to help out like buying the washer and dryer I had living with an old boyfriend (so he didn’t have to drive to do his laundry and I didn’t have to walk as I felt bad for asking and he wasn’t offering - though a friend drove me to another town to use his…), and getting Food Stamps to help, as per his request.

Now… Originally I suggested we buy a cheap washer and dryer together, to which he would continuously ignore my messages until finally getting upset saying he didn’t want to, so I bought a set myself. I wasn’t about to haul a sack of laundry for a mile, use up a bunch of quarters, and hike it back every week or so, and I thought I was being helpful in offering to help pay, or even pay for it myself (which ended up happening) if he would just check them out with me. Apparently I did wrong? The only explaination I received was that he just didn’t want to, and that then he wouldn’t have an excuse to drive to his brother’s place to play games… Either way, I told him I was getting them and that he could use them if he wished.

As for the food… I kept him up-to-date on the status of my benefits (when I was getting them and how much), and told him if he wanted to get anything to let me know. Whether that be asking to pick things up from work or go on a shopping trip. The only thing that he ever said were complaints that he only ate ramen (which was far from the truth, and how he couldn’t afford food after I was lowering the amount he paid in rent by paying him is beyond me), but he would never ask, and I was tired of reminding him that I had my card and we could get food. … Correction: He asked me to buy supplies for him to make enchiladas for his fu-friend, but I didn’t get the message until my lunch break at 8pm, sooooo I was too late. My bad… Sorry? I would have… I told him I work ‘til midnight…

So for the most part I would eat cheap burgers at McDonald’s (woo! 10% discount! More than my own employers gave me…), ramen, noodle cups, and other microwave stuff here and there, and he seemed to make a lot of rice dishes so I hiked home with a 20# bag of rice and showed him where it was (he never used it). I was saving my benefits for when he finally took the initiative and offers to finally get food. Ended up getting my benefits cut because of this, which is the main reason I started eating more. Even though I felt horrible for eating at home because he never asked! He’s a big boy. I told him I had them and we could get food. I… Ugh! Repeat rant…

The cat… I miss him dearly… He just showed up one day. I exit my room one afternoon, housemate was gone, and there was a small, black kitten staring at me. He became my little buddy… Always greeting me when I got home and begging me to pick him up so he could rub his face on the bill of my hat efore clawing his way to sit on my shoulders. I played with him every day (freaken high energy thing!), and was training him to fetch and other small commands. I’m a dog person… ^^;

His owner neglected him… His (Ninja’s) bowl would be left empty all day… Brief explaination of the day-to-day: Housemate left for work about 4:30 am (I forget when he would get home, as I would usually be working, and he often wouldn’t get home until much later in the day), and I generally left work around 11am (whatever my shift, I was gone at least 12 hours from a full shift and walking). I checked his bowl every morning and night. Sometimes he would have a few bites left and sometimes it was empty. There were a few days where I was in a rush and didn’t have time to fill it. On these days where it was/near empty, I would get home and the bowl would be empty. He informed me early on that his plan was to keep it filled. I kept it filled.

Oh hey! Character limit! XD I’ve barely begun and only know to extend this by making multiple posts… Posting in reverse so hopefully it’s a more seamless read… If read.

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