Son of a bitch. And not THIS Bitch. SOB.
I am filled with rage. The more I seek inner peace and the understanding of self, the more heated I become. I’m sick and tired of bending to the point of breaking while feeling that others get to stand steadfast in their own selves without regard to anyone – and especially without consideration for ME.
My once brilliant friend found Jesus when she found her newest hubby, and now can’t allow my children around hers because we don’t go to their church. Oh, and let’s ALL PRAY that newest hubby’s baby mama doesn’t get full custody of her own daughter because THEY DON’T WANT TO PAY CHILD SUPPORT to baby mama. Daughter’s welfare and best interest be damned, right? My neighbor’s 6, cursing, criminals-in-training, wannabe bad ass, incorrigible children use MY PORCH, sit in MY CHAIRS, climb on MY ROOF, destroy MY FLOWERS and LANDSCAPING, LOOK IN MY 2nd STORY WINDOWS, SCRATCH CURSE WORDS ON MY WINDOW SCREENS, sit ON MY FUCKING CAR, and I’m a petty fucking BITCH for being pissed about it. Well, they are right about the bitch part 😉 Those fucking little derelict monsters stand IN FRONT OF MY DOOR like they are going to put their hands on me or not let me cross my own threshold. And, to top it off, my father’s gold-digging new wife is on Facebook griping about her ex-husband’s new girlfriend, and there are no minor children to that marriage.
All of these things might seem little to you. And you might be right about that depending on your perspective. Hell, I know some of that shit is minor. And some isn’t my business at all. Which is why I’m so frustrated with myself for wanting to BURN DOWN THE MOTHER FUCKING WORLD over them. I didn’t used to be such a loose cannon. Once upon a time, there was a Bitch who let bullshit roll off her back, knew some things weren’t worth her time, and walked away truly happy and content that shit was behind her. Then her brain broke the fuck apart, she fell apart, and now she blogs to try to deal with the sun rising every morning. There’s no happily ever after in this story, folks. Just meds and more meds, and the wrong meds, and new meds, and new doses, and ups and downs, and meds, meds, meds. The End.
The End? I’m not that lucky.
FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS LIFE. FUCK NOT BEING ABLE TO FIND MY CHILL. FUCK EVERYONE. And FUCK MY BRAIN.