I am so amped up right now and it’s very much my own damn fault.
I don’t know what to feel at this moment.
I have this urge to do something, but I’ve grown very scared of the dark.
If I’m still up when it starts getting light out I’ll go outside. I’ll do it. I need to break this cycle of fear.
I just feel like everything is unresolved and I don’t know how to resolve it. Am I supposed to be okay with things just hanging on forever in my mind with all these wicked possibilities that never came to fruition. I don’t like where this is going.
My fears are at an all time high. They were nonexistent last year. It’s really fucking with me how different each traumatic experience can be on you.
Listening to Third Eye Blind and not cutting myself in a bathtub whilst crying.
I vomited in the church because I got car sick on the party bus.
A bunch of wedding mishaps happened.
I didn’t fit on the shuttle and got mashed against a door.
We only got kid sized alcoholic drinks and even when I double fisted I couldn’t get buzzed.
My chest started to itch during the reception. Luckily, my friend came to my aid and brought me to the liquor store and got me alcohol wipes as well.
Reverse shuttle took over an hour to catch and was quite the tight squeeze.
Back at the hotel the cocksuckers wouldn’t tell me where my parents were because it’s against hotel policy to divulge information about guests even if said guests are paying for the room you’re in and you’re their fucking daughter.
And then that’s when the breakdown happened and I let it all out and I needed a good scrub down because the makeup was driving me crazy and I was so upset at the entire day and how I was treated. The only good thing about it was that I got to see my partner and squish him. It was too short though and I don’t get to see him again for 2 weeks. Long distance sucks. Weddings suck.
Alright it’s been a week so I guess I can write about it now:
My partner got stranded in Virginia and almost had to sleep on the streets. I was very much upset at my inability to get him. Also he now owes a fuckload of money due to circumstances and mechanics and ughhh.
I lost my bra and ended up having to drive all the way home after dinner and then all the way to the other side of farness.
My cousins could not sleep without the tv being loud enough for them to hear. Guy Fierri’s voice didn’t lull me to sleep.
The woman that did my hair used a vibrating straightening iron to curl it. Not only was this excruciatingly painful, but I could hear my hair break as she twirled. Oh and my hair fell 30 minutes later and ended up having to be redone by the same lady. At that point, my hair sprayed hair needed to be brushed out and I saw even more clumps fall to the ground.
My beef jerkey had mold on it and there wasn’t enough gluten free food to quench my hunger.
They demanded my tattoo be covered by airbrush makeup. I wasn’t informed that I should have shaved the area until it was very late in the morning. I didn’t have a razor. I was handed a dull one and told to use soap in the bathroom. 3 swipes did nothing but burn and so I just said fuck it and went as is.
I had to sit in the middle of the hotel room in a bra and control top spanx thing as my family members and the camera crew photographed, filmed, and looked at me. This was a fucking violation in every sense and I had to keep my teeth clenched and drift off so that I didn’t break down crying. I was so mortified and I hope that these pictures just die. I don’t need to be told “we’ve seen everything” by a bunch of male strangers. Fuck off this is my body and being in a bridal party shouldn’t mean that I no longer have a say in what is done to it and who gets to see it.
Midway through the airbrush the woman goes “you know this costs extra right?” Actually bitch I didn’t. I was told it didn’t. But I have to hold my tongue because it’s the bride’s big day.
I looked like I had a gray green bruise on my chest. It was sticky. It didn’t match my skin at all and oh joy I had dark chest hair.
One wedding is over and during the rehearsal dinner my aunt had the nerve to ask me if I would be coming back to the state to attend her daughter’s engagement party (date has not been set).
You made a comment about how the boutineer was phallic and I couldn’t help but think “that’s an orchid it looks like a fucking vulva.”
What a shit show of a day, but all that matters is that my partner is making it up in spite of all the bullshit.
Looks like I’m not falling asleep tonight. I can’t jerk off. My cousin needs the bright ass tv on and loud enough so that she can hear it. My heart is pounding. Fuck this.
At first I was really pissed off that I couldn’t sleep normally. There are days that are worse than others. I’ve been very stressed out for 2 weeks and this whole insomnia kick has been getting worse. However, I’ve gotten into a bit of a routine and I’m very excited to drive home right now and blast Tool & Puscifer and just look out at the trees and darkness.
The wedding is tomorrow. My hair dye will be fresh as hell tomorrow and I feel like I might get shit because there’s blue and purple in my hair, but it’s completely fucking irrational to tell someone that they have to prepare themselves in YOUR image a year and a half in advance of an event. There were a bunch of other shit that went into my decision, but I didn’t maliciously dye my hair. My hair is mine and I will do with it as I see fit.
I’m back and forth on if I want to wear a revealing dress to the rehearsal dinner tomorrow or button up. I think my chest piece deserves some time in the spotlight since they’re making me get it airbrushed out for the actual day. I haven’t had a chance to see my whole family look at me like I’m a classless gutter rat because I have a large tattoo.
My cousin told me to bring a hairstyle picture for the hairstylists and I keep looking at mohawks like “mmmmm. NO! I will control myself.”
I highly recommend violently masturbating before going to a gynecologist appointment.
It’s lovely when you’re waiting in a specialist’s office and keep getting gawped at by older people. Just because I’m not old enough in your head doesn’t mean I’m healthy. I’ve been sick for years and things just keep declining. What I really want to know is will my quality of life improve if I keep finding doctors who disregard my symptoms?
Oh and in that wedding rant where I’m extremely bitter I forgot to add the following to my list of costs:
I request off 2 days of work because my cousin needed someone to watch her dog while they were taking engagement photos. They wanted to include the dog in some of them and I served as his walker as we went around this park. The first day the photographer cancelled on them, but I was so pissed that I had to ask my boss for the day off and I ended up doing nothing. I did this shortly after I was brutally attacked by a dog and very much was fucking afraid of dogs. I’m petrified to leave my house at night and this fear is just taking on a life of its own and manifesting into something worse every day. So I took off work. I was afraid of the fucking dog. She didn’t offer to pay me when we were done. It took like 5 hours of my time. She didn’t even buy me dinner or hang out with me afterwards. I felt so used when she dropped me off at home.
My family has to stay at a hotel after the wedding and I believe that is $180. For fucking serious.
I can’t fucking sleep. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and I keep thinking about every random embarrassing thing I’ve done or weird fucking secrets that I can use as blackmail. Shut the fuck up mind.
I’m really glad it was trash day otherwise I would be finding decomposing jelly toys in the woods behind the apartments.
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