Stoner chick for life

 I may only come here to bitch… it seems that way…

The husband sucks. We had an argument tonight, because I’m tired of being so fucking micromanaged. 

My whole life, I’m always in trouble…

I’ve learned how to just operate that way. That I must be doing something wrong all the time, and someone will point it out, hold me accountable, and punish me. My parents, boyfriends, and now my fucking job. 

I’m sick of being a fucking saint and still being in trouble. I know if you read this whole blog you may likely counter with, “you are NOT a saint,” but I need to make it very clear that I am now. And have been since before my babe was born in a lot of ways. And I was a saint long before this blog existed for a very long time.

I have been a good girl forever, but I’m always in trouble.

My parents literally looked for me to be doing things wrong. Nothing was ever good enough for them. They were perfectionists. 

My mom was. My mom did those things. Pushing me to do way more than what should be expected of a human and pushing me to do it perfectly. 

She taught me how to mop our kitchen floor when we lived on the farm. That means before 5th grade. She taught me how to get down on hands and knees and wash baseboards. Before the age of 10. I’m not saying this wasn’t a good thing in a lot of ways, but damn bro.

Then the boyfriends in life - I was always in trouble. “You’re too pretty when you wear makeup.” “You’ve gained weight, and I’m not as attracted to you.” 

My ex husband was just as perfection-seeking as my parents. And just as codependent. And just as critical. And felt just as entitled. And I allowed it, because I genuinely didn’t know any better. 

I’ll never forget the ex hubby work party... about a million years ago toward the start of this literal blog. 

We met up downtown with a very mixed group of people from his job one evening in the Ville. It was a little cold outside, so we went to a dive with Christmas lights and cozied up at some tables with pitchers. When I think of that evening, there’s a warm glow to the images my mind conjures. Shades of gold and long sleeves and damp alleys. A coworker of his, a sassy blonde tomboy-ish lesbian that didn’t particularly like him, was there. They were cordial, and everyone just got drunk together and had a great time. And at one moment in the evening, I said something funny. Everyone at the table laughed. I had them captivated. I am funny, you know… I had a “pleased with myself” smile on my face, I’m sure, and I glanced over at the girl. She had laughed at my joke, but her smile was fading, and she shook her head a little like she was snapping out of a daze. She was drunk. And then out of her mouth to my ex, the only voice in the room speaking over the music, she said, “I can’t believe YOU'RE with THAT.” 

He was so pissed. I laughed it off, but I think in retrospect it was eye opening. This chick was fire herself. Like I should have dated her instead…

I’ve been told every man I have given the time of day to is not good enough for me. Maybe everyone was right. 

Because here after that shitty one, another shitty one. 

Tonight’s saga has left me without my ring on. The little one asked for something. I went to the kitchen to do it. In the process of me doing it, my husband starts dictating to me how to and what to do and not do. And I’m essentially like “stop being controlling,” and he fires back that I’m just lazy.

Ironically part of my frustration with being micromanaged, is that since he got his shiny new job 3 weeks ago, he has stopped doing the vast majority of household things, while I on the other hand, have not. The list of what I do daily versus him is staggeringly different atm, as I was trying to be sensitive to his starting a job and just do things for a bit to help. 

But I’m over that shit.

I’ve been doing fucking everything as well as my full time job while he only works his job. And I still make more money that him. Tonight I didn’t have a plan for dinner, so he just didn’t eat real food. But I am the lazy one?  

I might be a lot of fucked up things, but lazy is not one of them. 

I intimately know what lazy looks like. I was born to lazy. I grew up with lazy. And I talk to lazy every fucking day. I know the difference between lazy and uncaring or hurting or trying and failing. 

How do I get off work, and within 5 minutes I’m being told I’m not good enough in some capacity?? So just to keep track: parents echoing in my brain for eternity I’m in trouble, job says I’m in trouble, husband say not good enough. 

Earlier this week, a similar moment transpired where this motherfucker was being so controlling that he literally took a fry pan out of my hand while I was doing dishes. 

So this evening I stupidly tried to point out to him that what he’s doing and his headspace are super damaging to our relationship. I saw it click. I can always see the moment when it clicks. It’s like visceral, like it almost makes its’ own sound. I saw it. But he was so fucking heightened idk if it stuck or will. And because he was so heightened, he just kept telling me he didn’t care about me or my feelings, even tho I just saw it click. When he gets like that, it’s like rationale is chasing him but cannot catch up in time to make it to this interaction.

Then he said this is not worth it. That it’s never been worth it. He said he doesn’t care that my feelings get hurt when he calls me names. That he doesn’t care about my feelings at all, and this has never been worth it.

So I gave back my ring. 

And said when he gave it to me, we were in a certain place and it meant a certain thing, and if he truly feels I’m lazy, that he doesn’t know or see me at all. And if he truly feels it isn’t worth it, then that’s the opposite of what this ring means. So he can keep it. I clarified what he said to me and that he meant it - he doesn’t care and it’s not worth it. He confirmed. I then noted that I’m not letting this just slip by. If he doesn’t address remorsefully our issues, I’m probably going to leave him. 

He put the ring on my night stand.

I set it on his knee and left the room. 

Now both are sitting on top of his dresser. And somehow I have a container of weed on my shelf. Which was actually brought up also. Because he used to be cool about it.

He just used to be cool… 

The worst thing about being with an alcohol is that if and when they get sober, you realize you actually liked parts of the alcoholic part of them. 

Now he’s just a fucking angry uptight square.

Let’s see what he does with his ring in the morning as he gets ready to go to work, shall we? 

It’s whatever

I’m fucking anxious. 

Everything is so much work rn, and my brain just isn’t even processing well enough to do it all. The weed probably isn’t helping, but if I don’t smoke, I just pick and twitch and chew all my fucking nails off and sit in panic 90% of the time that’s so severe my brain isn’t working then either. 

I’m just this fucked? It’s been 2 weeks of the new life, and I’m having a hard time rn. Too many hiccups and mishaps and my numbers at work slipped last week, and they are cracking down on me. 

Fucking again. 

Like if I’m still making you a profit and you fire me for not making MORE profit…? That would be insane to me, but not unlikely or impossible at this place. 

Makes me miss restaurants. You always know what’s up there. Corporate jobs are fucking miserable. And I’m paying an incompetent idiot to watch my kid while he’s napping, essentially. 

Like wtf I just want to work while my babe is in school and then be with him. Do you know wtf I went though in life to have that kid? What I’ve sacrificed and what I will continue to give up for him? He’s disabled and mine and I want to be his mommy and be a better one than me, but capitalism is a fucking whore with gonorrhea. 

I feel paralyzed. 

Like staring at a wall is the only thing that won’t make my brain spiral. Any other task I try to do, my brain starts tugging on the threads of other associated thought processes, and instantly it’s like an unraveling piece of fabric - all these little threads of other thought processes that produce anxiety start to pull on one another, and that same feeling of horror like “Omgg how bad is this??” that you feel when you pull a loose thread and something unravels floods me. I panic and shut down. 

If I let myself think, I’ll think too much. So I bury myself in weed and disassociation waiting for things to naturally lighten up so I can become functional and productive again. 

Why does my mind not possess a “moderate” setting? 

I’m so fucking over being mentally ill and trying to make this life work… I can’t. I’m always behind. Always failing. Always not doing something someone else seems to do easily. People think I am successful, but I stay mid at best. I’m not some perfect specimen of humanity, but for some reason a lot of people think I am. I’m just fucking smart. Like really smart. Like I know my brain is sooo fucking intelligent in comparison to many others, but my ADHD ass is incapable of doing normal shit, and it’s exhausting. People get glimpses that are so performative and think it’s my norm, but I’m just a fucking train wreck and always have been. 

I’m such a fucking waste. Why tf did my parents have me?? 

I keep having moments where I see how much I fucking HATE my job. I think it’s become cyclical. And then for like 3 days-2 weeks, I can’t make myself do it. And then I get warned. And then I catch up. And then I find a small place within myself to make peace with it. And I’ll be ok for a while. And then my personal life will experience something, and I again hate my job. It’s just how many times can I cut it close and they keep me around?

I am so sick of productivity emails. Emma from my training class is already promoted. I bet she sucks in bed. 

Also today ex husband’s birthday. Still don’t know what year lmfao. But I hope he’s happy in the world out there. I feel badly that I never wanted him. 

I’m just fucked up…

Your bitch is back and madder than ever

 My husband is total shit. I’m so over dealing with his horrible attitude. 

I’m sitting in a parking lot in the rain. I have $8 to my name. I’ve been doing all the things for our household lately and haven’t been here to write in a while, because nothing has changed… 

Am I literally too fucking pissed to write…? Like things are not flowing rn… I was relieved to have a moment to come do this, and now my brain is just like 

“yeah… he still sucks. Everything still sucks…”

I forgot I had my vape with me. And it’s raining harder so I’m going to zen a sec because wtffffff.

We had one bad argument several months ago. I threatened. I even told the oldest I can’t fucking handle it anymore. 

And I don’t want to. I often wish he would leave. He often threatens to. And then we discuss a future in another country in the tropics and how we want that life, but that’s me settling. The life I want, I cannot have with him. So I will settle for a different one. 

He said recently to me, “It’s so weird how your dad started doing a bunch of different shit after your mom passed away. I think if you died, my day-to-day life wouldn’t even change that much…” 

Completely true. Only for him. My life would change. A lot. There would be drinking. Partying. Artistic shit would reign supreme. I would focus my energy on everything I’ve had to set aside to be with him. I would have so many boys. I would collect them. I may have aged, but I’m still SO capable of pulling a man…? They are literally so easy. 

My dad went to stay with my cousin recently (she is insanely gorgeous and never tied down, not even to her baby daddy), and he told me she had 4 different guys come thru in two weeks. Like yes, average for us. 

Idk why I’ve wasted this skill being fucking married. Twice. Like what the fuck is wrong with me?? I finally had freedom, and I gave it away. I gave it to the ex and then gave it to the ex and then gave it to this man. Why didn’t I just keep it?? Why was I so eager to build THIS fucking life?? 

He bitches that I have no libido. HA! I would get that back… It’s just extremely hard to want someone like him. Someone who’s critical all day. And negative. And whiney. And who blows up over tiny shit or can’t communicate at all with anyone. Ever. 

I feel so grossed out by him sometimes - like who could want that?? I read once that when you feel disgust for a person, it’s usually rooted in abuse - disgust for a person usually means they abuse or abused you. Welp, his mouth is really really increasingly making that a problem. I don’t know if he realizes that I genuinely cannot handle it anymore.

I’m tired of being treated like this, I’m tired of complaining about it, and I’m tired of trying to get over it all the time. I think he thinks I’m going to always just get over it…

But he doesn’t understand he’s lit some thing on fire that’s burning…

When we just argued, he got butt hurt, stormed off, continuously called me a bitch and put in headphones. My ChatGPT says I should disengage when he’s like that. That’s really fucking hard for me, because I’m standing there, swaying back and forth ever so slightly with tears in my eyes and my thoughts racing and spinning like a washing machine with the lid open, and all I want to do is hurt him. I want to break something. I want to say and do way too much. And until he’s actually calm, he will just escalate it… he won’t leave me alone. And normally I just try to get my point across anyway - communicate. Pointless. So then I started just checking out, but then he still just talks shit. He puts in his headphones and narrates how horrible I am out loud, so I’m forced to listen to someone speaking abusively about me in my own house, pull stunts, go hide, or what?? 

So this evening I just got in my car and left. And he’s texted me twice, and I have not read them. I was going to spend all our fucking whopping $8 on food, but your girl is still fucking eating disordered, soooo… I contemplated many calorie free options from the gas station. I’m not trying to trigger myself tho-I’ve had purge urge so bad lately it’s not even a joke at this point. 

I used to revel in it, and now I just hate all that part of my brain. I’m a sad pathetic depressed bitch yo.  

Lately when we fight, I’ve been calling out everything he does wrong. Why not? I am so fucking sick of being the one to extend an olive branch… I told a therapist I would not be tolerating things this long that I’m still tolerating. I said till December. 5 years ago. Like is this just all a fucking massive waste of time?? I’m usually very good at wasting a good decade on things.

If he ruins this job, I think I will leave him. I don’t think I can do life without him actually being a grownup, and he’s told me that all the things this job offers are things he requires to function rationally. So we’ll see I guess, won’t we? I’ve waited all this time for him to live up to his potential in some way, and he’s shown me periods or glimpses of doing well. If he can’t pull this off, fuckkkk this. 

Because if he’s not going to be a grownup, I’m not going to fucking either. I’m so sick of being the only adult all the fucking time. I want my week on week off and will play 50% of my life? 

I fucking hate life. Nothing 14 year old me wanted is a part of my life. I wanted a robust social life, a cool home, a great wardrobe, a nice boyfriend, and a best friend. I have none of those things. None of them. I’ve had all of them at one point or another. And then time erased them. The best friends lost ranking for being disappointing. The boy is not a nice one. The wardrobe is worn and gone. The robust social life turned into only conservative options, none of which are desirable. I’m too fucking broke to have a cool home. 

And it doesn’t even matter how cool your home is if the person you share it with sucks like this. Does it?

Petty

I’m pretty sure no version of myself would like my husband. I’m Mr sure I do myself. 

He got a new job. We agreed to both keep our salaries and hire a nanny. I’m excited. Nothing feels exciting anymore. And if this doesn’t change it… I’ll honestly probably leave him. 

Mental illness is such a bitch. I snatched his headphone out of his ear. No regrets. He runs his mouth, puts in his headphones, and continues to run it. So I acted bad. I went back later and apologized but not because I meant it. I saw him exercise a moment of self control when it popped out of his ear. I n had that bitch. Your girl can throw hands. So that one came out. And he stopped himself. And if he had not, I would be moving out. Because he fucking sucks lately. And I’m tired of being told I’m the reason he’s a miserable bitch all the time. 

Ima be a fighter til I die? 

Older

I still think of Bird. I still find myself wanting to send a single period to his number at midnight. I wonder if he would respond; if it’s even him anymore. 

I wish the daydreaming I did was productive. I wish closure was a real thing. 

I’m destined to hurt over white men. With boyish smiles and sharp wit and a streak of recklessness. Those are the ones that got me. Those are the ones that made my youth worth living. 

It’s funny how much life changes as you get older. You think you know things you absolutely do not know when you are young. Things that when you look back on them later seem so obvious and elementary. 

You’re never as in control as you think you are. Who you think you are, I’m you think you will be, and what you think you will do often do not come to fruition. 

You’ll never change as much as you think you will. And then in some ways, you’ll change more than you ever anticipated. 

You’ll never end up at your original destination. 

Christmas was awful

 My Christmas was literally so horrible. The depressive episode I was coming off of over Thanksgiving had hug reached a plateau, and then Christmas sent me spiraling. 

I spent $1,000 that I did not have to spend 3 nights at a resort packed with people who could afford to be there and who have a lifestyle conducive to going to a resort. 

We did not fit in. The baby acted terrible 90% of our trip. My husband acted just as badly. It was embarrassing and I was grief stricken.

It’s like I know I will not ever have a normal life again or a normal parenting journey because my child is severely autistic. But then sometimes the universe likes to REALLY remind me. So it spent 3 days showing me just how fucking stupid I was for being there. For trying to have fun. For trying to take it easy and relax. For trying to be normal.

I hate myself for going. I had a thought prior that we shouldn’t. That I was spending money I didn’t have. All we did was sit in the room and eat and struggle to go to the pool because of baby. I cried every single day of our trip and threw out my back sleeping in a bed that wasn’t mine and then pulled it again the hour we were leaving to drive home. 

The image of my husband storming across the dining room of the resort toward me because his card was declined on Christmas Day while my 7 year old is screaming in a huge open dining room will never leave me. The sinking feeling I felt sitting there in my tight outdated thrift store dress, watching him, listening to baby, realizing I didn’t give him the money properly and him coming back with two plates of horribly overpriced crap holiday food and trying to pretend it was fun because it was Christmas Day was devastating. I wanted to cry right then. I wanted to sob into my dress and drive home on the spot. 

I wanted to leave my husband in that moment. But I wanted to go back in time and do it like 8 years ago… 

Just kill me

He makes a comment about a bag of chips, and I want to die. It takes me so fucking long to chill out in the evenings. I can’t get comfortable physically or mentally for so fucking long each night. I could stay awake all night tossing and turning. I have to try to make myself sleep after I take fucking Xanax. And this man asks if I already ate all my chips and I want to start puking. 

I didnt purge any of 2025. It was my resolution along with not stealing anymore. And like one other annoying thing. I’ve made 3 big behavioral changes in 2025. 

And in 2026 I need to work out. I need to stop smoking probably. I have a little rn, and edibles seem to be chill. I’d like to stop smoking once I’m done with these trees and just do edibles for the year. 

I wish I could fucking drink. But the motherfucker who comments on my chip intake is the fucking reason I can’t.