How old is too old to turn your life around? Can you go to school when you are in your 70’s? Can you have a moment on your 60th birthday like in the movies, where the music reaches a crescendo and your eyes widen. Fuck! I should really stop doing crack or blowing guys behind the 7-11…
Anyway..on paper I feel like I look like I have everything together. I work 2 jobs. I got to school. I get good grades. I have never been evicted. What sucks is, I feel like I’m in this really shitty place in my life. I should have been done with school. I should have had a house already. I should have been a world renowned traveller author extraordinaire. Like yesterday. Why am I in class with a bunch of tweens? This sucks. Insert anxiety here.
The other night I went out with a MeetUp group with my boyfriend to do a trivia night. Check comes and my card gets declined. This is not the first time this has happened in front of said boyfriend. Its the 2nd. Both of the times had nothing to do with funds but does not make it suck any less. I felt like going home and doing crack. Mind you …I’ve never done it before but that whole fucking embarrassing shit hurt like hell. My bf was gracious and no one pointed and laughed at me it just sucked.
Why do attractive guys or guys that think they are attractive have to treat girls they are not attracted to like they slithered out from an used condom? I see this all the time at my job. What do they think is going to happen to them if they said good morning to the old lady at the desk or smiled at fat girl in the cafeteria? Will the become pregnant? I guess that would suck because you would be forced to father a child by someone you are not attracted to. You might even have an ugly baby.
New RN at my job refuses to greet anyone that is not mildly attractive to him. It was so disgusting to me.
What would happen if some of you found out that the girl you were dissing was not even attracted to you?
I have a stalker. True blue, hides in the bushes, comes to my job, calls my phone and hangs up…stalker. I have been dealing with this stalker for over 2 years. Let me explain:
I used to live in an apartment complex. Lets call it Fuckery Apartment Complex. Fuckery is a huge complex with 1 -3 bedroom apartments. I lived upstairs and my soon to be stalker lived downstairs, beneath me. He moved in months after I did. Days came and went. I went to work and to school as most people do. Then weird things started to happen. I would come home from work and see him staring at me from his window. One day I found a post-it note on my car that said “you look nice”. The handwriting was shakey and childlike. I balled it up and threw it on the ground. My door bell would ring mysteriously. One day while hanging something on the wall in the stairwell, my doorbell rang. I heard is door shut. Furious i banged on his door and yelled “DONT FUCKING TOUCH MY DOORBELL”. It never happened again. He just upgraded his antics. I would hear banging in the middle of the night or his stereo turned up to full blast then turned down. This would continue everyday until i moved out months later. He would also put glue on my car and throw rocks at my car.
One day i confronted him and he pulled out a large knife and said “if you dont shut up im gonna slit your throat”. I called the police. They came and did nothing. They took a report and a month later we went to court. He had a lawyer i did not. He got off. There were no witnesses they said. He pulled a knife in the middle of the day and no one saw? Hes 66 years old, why would he do that?
I had to go back to my apartment. He went back to his. Beneath me. I wanted t o set the place on fire. I wanted to die. I didnt understand how this could happen. I blamed myself. Maybe I should have said ‘hi’ to him. Maybe I should not have been so distant. That day he was standing in front of my door..maybe I should have invited him up. Then this would not have happened.
It took a while to get the money to move but i did. In the mean time, whatever he could do to make me suffer he did. My car was damaged, I never slept and had constant panic attacks. Sometimes I would stay with a coworker or a friend, but even still I was constantly worried about my apartment or having to return the next day. I stopped eating and stopped smiling. Friends called me paranoid and some stopped speaking to me. “Attention seeking” some said.
One night my car had so much glue on the winshield I could not see to drive. Since there is security at my job i asked him to take a look. Before we even got to my car the security guard starting yelling at me. “How do you know it was him?” “It raining! Your car looks like every other car!” “Dont call the police they are just going to laugh at you”. I called the police anyway. The police saw what I saw. I felt so relieved. He said my next task is to get the security footage from my job. My job told me that i would need a court order to get the footage. I was livid. The next day security at my job avoided me. If I was walking a hallway they would back up and go down another.
I saved my money and moved again. High rise building with security and cameras. He still found me. He is still doing damage to my car. I called the police, a detective came out and said “I dont have time to look through the footage” and just left. Everyone has suggestions and had grandiose ideas; “if it was me I would’ve (beat, maimed, set ablaze etc) he would have never messed with me.”
I have been through a lot in my lifetime. In my darkest moments I have had the usual questions “why me?” ,”What did I do to deserve this?”etc. I would call my mom in tears (at one point hyperventilating ) screaming “I just cant handle more of this shit right now”. My mom, would say “calm down” or “nothing lasts forever” and I would either cry more or just hang up (and cry harder).
I work in the medical field and I have to deal with people in distress. As of late i have been coming across women who have been in the exact situations as me. Let me explain…
A few years ago when I lived in New York I was raped. I was walking home from work under the train platform and I heard footsteps. Since i was 2 blocks away from my house I felt like I was ok. I saw a group of people up ahead and figured no body would do dumb shit while there were people standing there. I felt an arm grab me and pull me and then I saw white. He punched me in the fucking face and kept hitting me. I screamed and looked around I was already in an abandoned shop by the train station. I remember he smelled like alcohol and ass. I kept screaming and trying to fight. He bit me a few times as I tried to run. I saw white again. I woke up in the hospital.
A doctor came in told me what happened. They took my blood and tested it. I got a shot of antibiotics in my ass along with many other antiobiotics. Rape cocktail. They asked me if I wanted a kit and the nurse came in and did it. She looked completly irked that she had to take care of me. She told me I was wrong for walking around at night in Brooklyn . It was 9pm. She said “bad things dont happen to good people”. I spit in her face.
Fast forward a few years and a different state later… I am at work and a young woman comes in and she was raped. The cops found her bloodied up and on someone’s lawn. She layed on the stretcher in the fetal position and cried. We asked her questions, she never made eye contact or answered. They called psych he offered Valium and she screamed at him to get out. I paced back and forth in front of her room. I went in put water juice and crackers on her table and covered her with a blanket. I told her that this happened to me a few years back and if she wanted to talk just put the call light on. I closed the door, paced some more and then went on to do other things.
When my shift was over I went home and an hour later I got a phone call from work asking if I could come back. “I worked 12 hours I’m going to bed”. My supervisor said “the patient only wants you in the room while she is examined please come back.” I floored it over to the hospital and took the 6 flights of stairs up to her room. Everyone was standing outside of her room ; psych, RNs , and a few doctors. Shit I wish I had it like that when this happened to me. I calmed my breathing and went in. She was so pale. She was sitting up in bed watching tv (more like staring in its general direction) and then she looked at me and feebly smiled. “Were you bullshitting me so I’d talk to you?” she looked back at the tv, maybe half expecting I’d say yes. “Fuck no”, I told her everything that happened. When I was finished I said “you got all these people waiting outside to help you. Let us help.” She said only if I stayed and held her hand. I stayed 8 + hours and surprisingly dont remember yawning. Between doctors and tests we talked about life and what she was in school for. I stayed until she fell asleep and wrote her letter then went home. I called my mom and told her everything. When I was done she said “honey i know this is hard for you to understand sometimes but there is a reason and a season for every damn thing.” I told her ok and went to sleep.
I am currently in school to be a an RN. I’m working my mother fucking ass off. I’m lying. I work hard in spurts with procrastination and anxiety looming close by. The point is that I fucking do work. My ultimate dream. The thing I want most in this whole entire world is to travel. I want to get paid to travel. Maybe take pictures, buy exotic items to sell to some rich lady in the Upper West Side or just write about my misadventures/adventures. I talk about my desire to travel so much that I get travel gifts for my birthday (magazine, journal, glove warmers, map etc). The plan is that I graduate as an RN, get a moderately priced condo, work 3-4 days a week (12hr shifts) and scour Groupon and Bookit for travel deals. I was thinking about even moving to another country like Guam.
A friend of my boyfriend has the most amazing life. Her significant other has a job where he has to travel and live in the most amazing places. Recently I got invited as a +1 to their amazing wedding. While sitting at the table and chit chatting with other guests, I found out she lived in Guam with her fiance now husband. She didn’t just live in Guam but she fucking flew all over the world and took amazing pictures. *sigh* I couldn’t help but feel so envious. Even though I know that I will be doing the same soon, I just felt like …damn.
I envy my boyfriend. He is always fucking happy. I imagine that he wakes up in a cloud of glitter and dancing big breasted women with beer mugs in their hands or reminiscing about the sex we had hours before. I wake up cursing the day asking God why my lotto number didn’t hit and a terrible pain in my side. Ughh fucking gas. I may curse like a sailor but I refuse to fart in front of my boyfriend. He however, is delighted by his farts. Bracing himself like Leo on the Titanic just as the ship was going down. I curl my lip and sigh when he says “sorry babe” and skips off with his glittery nipple-beer-butt-cloud.
I digress. I’ve known this soul for a few months and I have never seen him upset, mad or indifferent. Don’t get me wrong it’s one of the reasons I adore him. His happiness is sometimes contagious but I feel like I’m not worthy of having this creature in my life. Sometimes I look at him and think..if he knew what I’ve been through..all the dark and ugly bits. The record would screech to a stop, the butts would stop bouncing, the women would throw their beer at me and he would leave.
I would like to tell him that I battle depression on a daily basis. That for a long time I was just going through the motions : washing up, eating , going to work, going home. I felt I had nothing really to live for. I would like to say that prior to meeting him I worked one day at a time on getting my shit together. Although he helps me to see there is something to be happy about everyday, I’m careful not to make him my crutch.
On my birthday he gave me a card and wrote that I made him a better person. I teared up and thought it was totally the other way around. He has no fucking idea.