terrible start to the day (Patreon)

I have an appointment at 4:15 today so I set an alarm for 1:30, giving myself time to snooze, get ready and get there in time. Turns out I didn't even need the alarm cutting right into my sleep time because my neighbors thought it was perfectly acceptable to slam their front door so hard it could break, repeatedly, at noon. So I went and looked at the video I filmed last night and I couldn't be more upset. The BDSM fixture for my microphone wasn't stable enough and kept hitting against the tripod everytime I moved, rendering another filming attempt useless. I don't mean to be a bitch about it, but, like, can I just fucking get one video out?! I'm so pissed at life. I try so damn hard to be functional during the 4 hour window each night that I have to complete a video and then just everything goes wrong. I am so pissed that I'm not even gonna wait until my next appointment tomorrow morning to pick up my tripod, no, I'm gonna carry that piece of shit home by myself just out of sheer defiance. Apparently this is the point in time when we integrate anger and defiance cause I am all over that shit. Last night, before even filming, I had to hunt down a stupid buzzing fly for over a half hour!!! I had not felt like this in a long time, this unstoppable rage when you're just ready to muder the next person who looks at you funny. Rage may be a cover emotion for powerlessness, but rage is also a mobilizer. I am so beyond ready to exhaust all my resources. Step on me once, shame on you. Step on me twice, annoying coincidence. Step on me thrice, I will fucking kill you, your family and your spawn. 

Ok, so it's not exactly the same as passion - but it's the closest someone like me can get. 

Growing up I was shamed and punished for being angry which explains why I wouldn't let myself feel it, ever. You always hear the same thing: "No one wants to be friends with someone like that", "Don't ruin the fun for everyone else", "You have nothing to be angry about, now stop it and behave!" ... This is why people get depressed. Life isn't fun and childhood is so horrifying it may aswell be the cruellest form of torture that ever existed. You have no power, you can't keep yourself alive, the people your life depends on are your very antagonists - and your anger is trying to get you out of this crushing feeling of sheer futility in anything you set out to do but then they take it away from you, throwing you right back in the pit that every fiber of your being is fighting, holding on for dear life, to crawl out of. And so you stay in that pit. And you starve. You wither. Alone. While everyone pretends life is sunshine gumdrops and roses and pretends you aren't suffering and are completely flabbergasted when you crack and the rare tear makes it out because you obviously have nothing to be upset about, ever, alas! You must be mentally ill. Now the only place you can go is hate and resentment. It's not the same as anger, it's quiet. It doesn't crawl out of your throat, it leaks out through your skin to poison the very people who threw you in the pit. But they don't feel it. Nothing happens. You're alone. You give up. Your hate expands towards every single person who doesn't see how much you're suffering. Soon, there's no one left not to hate. They say you're antisocial. Hand your case over to the "experts". All they give you is pills that make you weak and tired. Pills that make you numb. Pills that make your brain fog up so much you feel like you don't even exist. Your resentment tells you, this is what they wanted all along. You're a burden, an inconvenience, and now finally they got rid of you. And they all seem happy, much happier without you and your pesky emotions. Now you only have two places to go. Will you choose resentment and kill them? Or choose self-blame and kill yourself? Self-blame is often the last thread we hold on to when we are victimized to the point of ultimate powerlessness. We tell ourselves we had something to do with it so we can hold on to the thought that we can do something about it. ...There is a third path we can choose early on, we can choose to manipulate others in the same way we were manipulated. Hit them and ask them why they're upset because you never did anything and never meant to hurt them, but you did. And some of us try and may eventually give up. And some of us may fight and just go back and forth between anger and depression, anger and depression, anger and depression... And sometimes, almost inevitably, all your suppressed emotions and traits and memories may find another outlet, cut off from your conscious awareness... But by that time you are labeled a nut job and declared untrustworthy. There's no going back from that, society doesn't fucking forgive much less try to understand. Ew, don't go near her, she has the psych cooties! 

This is where your path begins. The path of figuring out what you're going to live for from here. How long you are willing to live to survive. Other people clearly will never see you, hear you, feel you or even give you the time of day. It's hard being alone. 

I got lucky and someone showed up who saw me not for my illness, not for my unusual lifestyle, but for who I am inside. Every part of me. The first person I've ever met who doesn't pick and choose which parts of me they want to love on and which parts they'd rather without. It took me a long time to begin to trust, even acknowledge the idea that someone could love me completely, because no one ever did. The first person I've ever met who didn't make me feel like a burden. All of me decided this future is worth giving it a shot. At least it's not the same hell, right? Maybe this person is gonna give me a hand crawling out of the pit. I haven't dared to ask, it makes me feel like a burden. Who knew needing someone could be so challenging? Who knew feeling hope could tear you apart inside? 

Life works in unexpected ways and I disagree with most of them. Here I am just trying to work with what I have, for better or worse. I may not have been given the most drop dead gorgeous meat suit to charm anyone who looks at me or the most stable mind to harness the full potential of my above average brain or even the best health to keep up with the demands of society... But I'm trying to make it work. The only thing I know is that no one can see inside me, think my thoughts or feel my feelings. And the less I share, the more they misunderstand me, and the more I share, the more they misrepresent me... I can't win. I can only look for things to live for along the way. 

This is now.

//Ally