When You're Alone
I have a confession to make.
I'm a psycho. And not in the cute "I'm just like Harley Quinn, I'm a bad girl with an attitude and daddy issues, I like to post memes about what a 'bitch' I can be" way. Not in a cool fun "I take a lot of drugs but can do insane knife tricks when I'm on them and we might go on a spree of felonies tonight, but we've never been so ALIVE" way. I'm damaged and I fuck things up. I know I've gone on like 4 tirades about how I am not damaged and toxic, but I think I was really just trying to talk myself out of it.
I hurt people. I am childish and freak out about not getting what I want so I hurt people and I'm rude. When people show up to my parties in the wrong order I have a fucking episode. I touch penises I am not supposed to touch. I stand next to busy roads and have arguments with people holding a shitty lingering threat that if they say the wrong thing I'm going to throw myself into the street.
I have spent two months-ish in Houston semi-medicated with a growing insatiable itch. Like a physical itch. A sitting on the edge of my bed frantically scratching as I consider where everything is going itch.
I haven't been able to write. I have barely felt here. I think I'm finally awakening to the idea that I really, really am problematic. A lot of the people I know think they're the smartest person in the room and we are all friends because of this. We are all always right together. But the longer this has gone, the more I realize, that they might have something to this vision of themselves, but my self-image is kind of baseless.
Everyone else is moving on, I need to move on too. In some ways I did, but a lot of what I have been doing is hiding. A lot of this move has been to cover up that I just lost the will to fight. To do anything. My little psycho brain pushed and thrashed and acted out as much as it could and then it just shut off. I truly can't be this person anymore. I just can't. Scott didn't make me this person. He was like, a symptom of an infection. At my core I have always been so much of equal parts ego and desperation that every destructive relationship I've formed is the only reasonable outcome. It's like- you can see where things are going to go sometimes. It makes a lot of sense. Too much sense. Like I really wanted Hillary Clinton to win, and I really hoped Trump would lose, but every damn Republican gave Obama such a hard time it really made sense in a perverse way that things would be the way they are right now. There's a festering sore of entitlement and privilege in America that I now recognize in myself. A petty sort of self-righteousness. We're always the smartest person in the room, we're always right and everyone else is against us. Everything has "always been against me". I'm "the kind of person no one picks". But never "a total victim like that person, they need to get it together".
I think I bought too hard into the idea that there is a certain amount of sassy self-harm someone can do to make themselves a good story and become the kind of person people want to save. I don't think this is a function of my parents, either. I think this is something I have been choosing for myself out of a fundamental lack of understanding and a deeply entrenched laziness. I've been my own racist Trump administration all along. And sliding down a path of destruction is so so fucking easy. Getting worse and worse, the world has seen time and time again, is not a difficult or complicated thing to do. It takes a little push, a little weakness and a little apathy. And transformation is so hard once this has set in.
Fuck, this is too believable.
This is a song I've been obsessed with lately. I've gotta figure out how to try to be someone who is authentically trying to be a better person and not someone who just says that.
I'm a psycho. And not in the cute "I'm just like Harley Quinn, I'm a bad girl with an attitude and daddy issues, I like to post memes about what a 'bitch' I can be" way. Not in a cool fun "I take a lot of drugs but can do insane knife tricks when I'm on them and we might go on a spree of felonies tonight, but we've never been so ALIVE" way. I'm damaged and I fuck things up. I know I've gone on like 4 tirades about how I am not damaged and toxic, but I think I was really just trying to talk myself out of it.
I hurt people. I am childish and freak out about not getting what I want so I hurt people and I'm rude. When people show up to my parties in the wrong order I have a fucking episode. I touch penises I am not supposed to touch. I stand next to busy roads and have arguments with people holding a shitty lingering threat that if they say the wrong thing I'm going to throw myself into the street.
I have spent two months-ish in Houston semi-medicated with a growing insatiable itch. Like a physical itch. A sitting on the edge of my bed frantically scratching as I consider where everything is going itch.
I haven't been able to write. I have barely felt here. I think I'm finally awakening to the idea that I really, really am problematic. A lot of the people I know think they're the smartest person in the room and we are all friends because of this. We are all always right together. But the longer this has gone, the more I realize, that they might have something to this vision of themselves, but my self-image is kind of baseless.
Everyone else is moving on, I need to move on too. In some ways I did, but a lot of what I have been doing is hiding. A lot of this move has been to cover up that I just lost the will to fight. To do anything. My little psycho brain pushed and thrashed and acted out as much as it could and then it just shut off. I truly can't be this person anymore. I just can't. Scott didn't make me this person. He was like, a symptom of an infection. At my core I have always been so much of equal parts ego and desperation that every destructive relationship I've formed is the only reasonable outcome. It's like- you can see where things are going to go sometimes. It makes a lot of sense. Too much sense. Like I really wanted Hillary Clinton to win, and I really hoped Trump would lose, but every damn Republican gave Obama such a hard time it really made sense in a perverse way that things would be the way they are right now. There's a festering sore of entitlement and privilege in America that I now recognize in myself. A petty sort of self-righteousness. We're always the smartest person in the room, we're always right and everyone else is against us. Everything has "always been against me". I'm "the kind of person no one picks". But never "a total victim like that person, they need to get it together".
I think I bought too hard into the idea that there is a certain amount of sassy self-harm someone can do to make themselves a good story and become the kind of person people want to save. I don't think this is a function of my parents, either. I think this is something I have been choosing for myself out of a fundamental lack of understanding and a deeply entrenched laziness. I've been my own racist Trump administration all along. And sliding down a path of destruction is so so fucking easy. Getting worse and worse, the world has seen time and time again, is not a difficult or complicated thing to do. It takes a little push, a little weakness and a little apathy. And transformation is so hard once this has set in.
Fuck, this is too believable.
This is a song I've been obsessed with lately. I've gotta figure out how to try to be someone who is authentically trying to be a better person and not someone who just says that.
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