Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Fall 1994 Entry 2

I'm tired of this whole mess. Right now I would love to say, fuck it all. I promised myself on the way home I would do this without rules. Say whatever I want, without worrying if it makes any sense or if it's written properly. Who gives a fuck? It's not like it's being graded. Whose correction am I afraid of? Other than my own, of course.

I was so angry on the way home today. I'm so tired of having to drag all of this shit up, look at it then take it all back home with me. What's the fucking point behind circling our wagons? The whole concept seems pretty fucking stupid to me. It seems to imply that there is some kind of togetherness. Bullshit. Togetherness my ass. Who has to take all of this shit home? It doesn't get left in that damn office. Circling wagons is a way of providing protection from some outside danger. First of all, the danger is on the inside. My inside to be specific. What the fuck do you think you are protecting me from? When I go home, my shit comes with me. You don't take it with you.

I'm so sick and tired of hearing how you know everything. So you've been doing this for more than twenty years. So the fuck what? I know there is not a fucking thing I can say or do that you have not seen or heard. Is that simple fact alone supposed to give me confidence in you? Hell, I've been a piece of shit longer than that. I've been doing what I do all my miserable fucking life.

That I am not unique is an established fact. Being constantly reminded of that fact does nothing to make me feel better. Being a miserable fuck-up is my greatest talent and I can't even do that well. It's all been done, it's all been said and it has all been felt before. Just another invalidation of Marisa.

I want someone to play by my rules, dammit! I have spent my whole life living by someone else's rules. What good has it done me? While God's rules are all nice and good, living by them done nothing to ease my pain. So far, trying to do it His way has only made things worse. I am not willing to buy the lie that all this agony will ever be worth it.

What the fuck is it going to take? I am in this goddamned box and there is no fucking way out. We know my way won't work. The problem is, my way stands in the way of everything else. I have to get past the walls to get past the walls. How the hell do I do that? How the hell do I get past my own shit to deal with the rest?

I can't get angry because I have no acceptable way to express it. I can't act on my anger because it puts me in trouble or danger or both. I can't verbalize my anger because even trying brings on the desire to act on it. I don't buy the lie that talking about it will relieve the desire to act.