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.  

First things first

So much insane shit has transpired over the past several months… My hand got fucked up at school, and now it hurts to do so many things that I have found myself not journaling nearly as much. I never thought about how much that would impact someone’s writing before… so, now I don’t work at the school anymore because my dad gave me thousands of dollars, and I got a new job where I work from home. I hope in 2026 I do not change jobs at fucking all. So far this one seems like a good fit, but my anxiety about all of it is so high given what 2025 looked like for me… Why does life keep throwing me these horrible adult ears? 

I want to write my book so badly… There’s been so much new material lately between Thanksgiving and my crazy aunt and grandmother and my brother… The problem is, it wouldn’t be flattering for any of those people if they read it… I was thinking today about what’s holding me back, and I think a huge part of it is that I want to write unashamedly about so many things in such detail, that it will probably be way too much for a book. I think I’m going to have to heavily edit the product after I write it. I think if I truly wrote the memoir I wanted to write, it would be a dense-ass book… so I’ve been delaying; trying to be selective of what I will include before I start writing. I’ve been doing rough drafts in my head, but none of them seem appealing, because they feel weak. Watered down. Palatable. And I don’t want to do that… I want rawness that would break the heart of every motherfucker that ever knew me. I want to be utterly exposed in the process as a fucked up human. But I want to do it from behind a page so that all the other fucked up humans in the world feel as if they are reading about themselves. I want them not to see me as some public figure but to project themselves into what I write. I don’t want my family to ever read it, and I want every stranger on the planet to see it.  

That’s always been the goal. To write something brutally honest. I want to start that process.

My book and my dollhouse are the two things in life I aurally need to accomplish. For the sake of my inner child, we only had like 5 big dreams - a child, a husband, my own cute house with a big kitchen, to write a book, to have a treehouse, to make a complete dollhouse, to always have a real Christmas tree, to live in a big bustling city, to travel. 

I don’t know if the treehouse or house with a big kitchen is ever going to happen. Some of these are checked off. Traveling is what everyone wants to do in any way they can, right? So that’s basic bitch stuff.

I determined last night what I want to do with the dollhouse. An epiphany about how I want it to be and what I want it to be. I can’t wait to start making things for it. 

In other news, my new job is pretty chill. I’ve had horrible ADHD happening that’s almost debilitating and the worst anxiety ever and started week two riiiight on danger days. And I’ve gained 10lbs since I started smoking again, and I had a massive flareup this week, solely because I’ve been treating my body like shit.

So I did an injection today because next week is Christmas and we’re literally going on a pool-centric trip.  I was supposed to be feeling myself and looking amazing. But instead th week of Thanksgiving, I just started binging like nuts and have been unsuccessful in stopping. I did an injection about two weeks ago, but this new job hasn’t helped my stress level. I’m perfectly successful with it, and I’ve done it all perfectly and it’s been a cakewalk, but it is so fucking hard for me to meet new people. Like these bitches are across the country, and I feel all the comparisons. I’m doing all of them. It literally makes me feel suicidal. And I can’t stop. I’m just in a fucking massive spiral of smoking and eating. 

Every time I undergo any big change, I revert. I get so fucking self-destructive in response to stress. Why the fuck?? Idk how I’m supposed to be like a functional normal human. My fucking hoarder, agoraphobic, bipolar traumatized mom just died because of her eating disorder - the woman that homeschooled us, thus ruining our ability to function in the real world and instead moved us out to the middle of fucking nowhere where the only person around us 90% of the time was severely mentally ill. 

And my dad acts like it was positive. Like he’s so confused why my brother turned out a complete failure of a human. 

He’s like that because I couldn’t raise him alone, you fucking idiot. He’s like that because your dead wife curated him to be like this. 

The resentment I feel about the decisions my parents made. They are so fucking stupid. 

The days of my life I have agonized over thoughts that I hope I’m not doing to my kids what my parents did to me. They were a fucking train wreck. They should never have had kids. Like 3 failed pregnancies and then you have me?? Why were you still trying?? 

 

Then you just up and die with everything left undone.

A million “useful” things you’ll never use. Craft projects you’ll never do. Plans of going places you’ll never see and doing things you’ll never do. 

No Grand Canyon. No doll house. No book. Some of my mom’s dreams were also mine. But I knew I would do those things differently. I didn’t think my dollhouse would be given to me in pieces. 

I want to do these things by 50. All of my desires. I’ve worked so hard, and I’m going to coast for a bit. Mentally ill and coasting. 

Ive been disassociated for days. I went to dinner with Jenna last night and literally can’t recall more than 5 total thoughts I had all night. It was just empty in there. 

Lately conversation feels draining. Interaction with anyone is completely undesirable. I want to tuck myself into bed and be completely left alone. I won’t tho. Because my mom would have. 

I wish I could stop dreaming about her. 

School drama

So. About taking the job at my kid’s school… 

I won’t say it was a mistake, but I’m doing the things again. The call outs. I just can’t get behind this societal notion that I’m supposed to physically suffer all day on top of my continuous mental suffering (and like, I have fibro so physical is also daily…) for a day’s worth of money. I wasn’t raised with this value in some ways, and in other ways I was. My dad went to work with cancer. Didn’t miss a day. But my mom justified staying home every time she felt like it. She also justified us staying home whenever we felt like it. 

I don’t know what my work ethic even is, but I can tell you that today I realized I have spent such a lifetime thinking hard work would lead to success, and I have come to realize that that is just not always the case. 

Also realized that I have no real dream I’m working toward, because the big 2 were recently shattered in life. Like last year. 

The problem is that I’m leaving people short staffed and needing me. Is there a job I could work where no one really needs me there? I haven’t had one. I always choose jobs where I get too much attention. I’ve been trying to reel myself in here, because I feel like too much. I disclaimered to one and all that I talk a lot. That I can’t stfu in meetings. And everyone says about themselves that they are “too much.” I know this. But I know for a fact I am genuinely too much for some people and too much in some moments. I’m being intentional about things, but I take up too much space very often, and I’ve gotten attitude from others like I’m annoying a few times now. I don’t feel it was warranted, but the two people that did have an insane work ethic where it’s a point of pride for them to have moved up the ranks of the school system. Meanwhile I just got a big ass education that gave me at job 1 what was job 3 for them.  

I re-read my last blog post, and it’s all unfortunately all come to fruition. My attendance is not ok rn. 

Not because of myself being lazy - I literally got assaulted by a kid at school, expressed that I cannot manage this, and the follow up team meeting left me with the rawest deal of the bunch. When the day prior I said the words “I can handle a lot of things, but not this,” and “this is not sustainable for me,” and “I don’t feel safe or comfortable,” and not only did I not get the outcome I needed - my needs were completely not even addressed in a follow up talk. And I know enough about how things function there to know the promises made in the meeting that would have benefited me marginally will not be Telly place for a long time. I don’t complain, so I will  not be the priority  

So I slapped a smile on my face, decided this place will not be the end of me, and proceeded to call out 2.5 days in 3 weeks. I really do have to stop, because not being there puts me so far behind in reality. Yesterday and today there was no malingering. But when I called the office she snapped a bit, “we’ll figure it out.” I get in making her life harder. It’s dominos tho, and I am but a middle piece. No one ever pays attention to the middle pieces; not really. 

The principal handed me the keys to the whole science fair. I don’t have to plan anything, because she sent me everything I would need to do with directions. I think she realizes that if she demands too much of me, I just won’t do it. And she has me pegged there, buddy. It would have been so half-assed. I think she still really likes me, but front desk lady ain’t buying it anymore… 

I’m not smoking now. Because I know I have to find a new job, and that’s the only way to guarantee it happening. I haven’t smoked in 3 days. 

 It’s killing me a little.