The Devil’s Whorehouse Needs Anointing

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What a long fucking week its been. My stress level is near its max and I’m doing everything I can to keep up and stay strong, but I’m failing miserably… I’ve had to prioritize and parts of my life are starting to lack and slide. Last week was the first week of school, but no matter how much I try to sit and make time for it I’m always easily sidetracked. I had to cram last-minute for the Whiplash Abby audition. I was so sure I was going to fail miserably, but somehow managed to pull it off. I’m officially the lead singer of a band again, and I couldn’t be happier about it. I just hope the song choices improve, I need songs better suited for my range. I’ve rushed to get out of work because I’ve had so much to do afterwords. I need a breather. And not from what you would think. I feel lately that everyone has been up my ass for attention and I feel like I can’t gather my thoughts enough to catch up with anything. I think above all things, right now that’s why I’m so desperate for this move, Life will be simplified. I won’t have so many people to devote my time too. Every which way I turn its, can you rehearse for this? Can you come spend time? Why don’t you ever call? or its screaming kids again, and me locking myself away “not making an effort” when really I’m actually trying for once. I need to write out a game plan. My thoughts are so scattered and I can’t gather them. I keep trying to just take it one moment at a time but without some sort of plan I feel like I can’t set milestones so I can breathe a little.

Knight was not as affectionate this trip as he has been in the past. And although I could have attempted to be clingy as usual. I felt he was unresponsive mostly and said fuck it. I just kind of gave up. I think what I’ve tried to say is that every once in a while I have the need to be smothered myself. My thoughts and stresses are so high currently, I run to him for release, and he does give some. I’m just at the point were I’m too exhausted to beg anymore. More and more he shows this pickier side of himself, and every word out of his mouth, all I can think is “That’s you opinion? well shit, fucked up again.” Its like I’m always stepping on toes with him. And in a sad way, I feel for a brief moment a feeling that I disappoint, that I’m overstepping boundaries that I wish to invade so desperately. I’m not sure if these are temporary boundaries set only for the time being, or if they will always be this way. If so, that saddens me, but I can’t pinpoint why. All I know is that something feels missing, and not fulfilled. Right now I’m too overwhelmed to even figure it out. Its strange, I’m at the top of my game and feel like giving up. I’m moving to Davenport with my wonderful sister, I have a boyfriend who somehow makes me smile consistently and has managed to keep me intrigued and utterly consumed with everything that is him, I’m a singer in a band FINALLY, I get to perform at the Bart Howard room again… and yet…  I feel… sorrow. I lack capacity. My drive is strong, but my time management is a whole other story. I spent all of today listening to the nag, nag, nagging of a seventy year old woman so opinionated and judgmental, negativity crept into me, making me feel worthless and all my effort for naught. This apartment, the devil’s whorehouse, that I was so happy to have, was rubbed into my face as almost a failure. “THE DEVIL RESIDES HERE, and the doorways need anointed with the BLOOD OF CHRIST. What a crock of shit, but my sister seemed to buy into it, and I began to lose hope. I think by reaching for his hand, or looking into his eyes, petting his face, that was all I was asking for. Was hope, but by the time I needed it most, I had lost all energy to ask. My flame is flickering out. The passion of this aries is being smothered out like a lid to a grease fire. Hold On Pain Ends… they say… But I’m not in pain, I’m drained… I will say this, I was able to sigh with relief when he says it first. Reminds me that he is trying, and its my head that is fucked. Not his… Sighs deeply… I will fix this baggage of mine. One step at a time right? I will fix this baggage of mine and no one will have to pick it up for me again. Years and years of the suffering I’ve endured, and no matter how much I attempt to move on, it taps my shoulder and waves hello. I need to find better ways to coup, but in such draining environments I have to find another way. I imagine a girl along side the Burlington highway with a bag. A thumb held up to the road. I’m taking these heels elsewhere. I’m in search of myself and where I fit in. Perhaps I’ll leave my baggage behind somewhere along the way. It would be so much easier to move forward without it. But for now, I need someone to be strong for me, because my knees are giving out and I can’t run anymore. I’m scared that soon I won’t be able to be picked up. Soon I’ll be dead weight and someone will have to carry me instead. Fear is the ultimate failure… and I’m failing wonderfully.

Today I am grateful:
For a crazy grandmother who took control, because I lacked the energy to do so; I was overwhelmed the moment I walked in the door.
For a sister, who told me its been her dream to live with me since she was tiny; It’s great to feel needed.
To have a future full time boyfriend with the patience of a saint and that soon there will be no longer needed three-hour drives; He is so many things and more.

Knight and Deseree are my driving forces in my life at this time. I will succeed. If not only for my own selfish reasons, but because I won’t let them down no matter what.

Six More Days

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Six more days. My heart pounds with anticipation. I hear the clock ticking by the seconds slowly as I wait till the moment he’s in my arms again.

As for cosmetology school, I guess that objective was a dud. As much as I want to do whatever I want with my life, my families approval seems to weigh on me more than I’d like to accept. Yet the longer I’m in Burlington, the more I long to be rid of it. The same people, the regular faces, the carbon copy over sang repetitive karaoke songs everyone is used to hearing. The only thing tolerable about this town is I have both my siblings here to help me tolerate it. Yet how I wish I could escape. Davenport has been my only outlet. A reprieve from the mundane, a sanctuary, a place without the constraints of my perfectionist family. How I wish only to be happy, yet I feel it can never be accomplished while i’m living under the pressures of others approvals. I need out of this place. If given the opportunity I would willingly pack a bag and leave without notice. You want to know one of the worst feelings in the world to me? Feeling stuck.

 

But my options are limited and since the Capri idea fell through I assume as did my offer to move there. Austin still stands but I don’t want to leave my brother and sister now that I have them both. I feel internally torn and desperate for an escape or at least the hopes of one. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way. Burlington has a way of making this feeling more of a habit.

Stuck in a situation where I can’t see things getting better. I look at the next 5 minutes, 5 hours, 5 days and all I see are the same hard patterns being repeated over and over and over.

I try to give myself a little pep rally of sorts and tap into that Pollyanna girl that’s inside me somewhere. The part of me that knows the glass is half-full and chooses to see the bright side. But Pollyanna isn’t there.

Life suddenly feels like it will forever be this way.

And this dark funk eclipses me.