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Posts tagged ‘vent’

If I Could, I Would

It’s 9:30 AM, got woken up around seven or eight by my rat, Jerry, chewing on the bars. Couldn’t get back to sleep. Haven’t taken my medicine yet. Yesterday I saw a comment on an old video showing anger toward mother’s day that accused me of lying about my past. I wish I had copied it before I deleted it to quote here, but I wasn’t planning on ranting about this. Bad mood. Worse mood. It started out with, “That’s a lie!!!!” It then proceeded to tell me that everything I said in the video, everything I said about what Erin did to me, did not happen, that I was “painting a picture for my fans.”

Everyone knows I don’t lie by choice. I didn’t want to include the comment in a Hall of Shame video because that series is for entertainment, not for comments that get to me. This got to me. Maybe it’s because I still have to fucking deal with it, I still have to struggle with the problems she gave me. They even said that the police had been called because of ME, and not because of her. I wanted to chew this person out, but instead, I simply said, “either learn how to swim, or get out of the gene pool. You’re ruining it for the rest of us.” Here’s what I wanted to say.

How DARE you? For one, how can you possibly say something didn’t happen if you weren’t even there? You have no right or reason to claim something that isn’t true if you don’t know if it was or not. For two, I don’t lie, honesty is my code of honor. Sorry if you’re a two-faced lying bitch, but I’m not. For three, oh? It didn’t happen? So I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for no reason? I have constant night terrors every night for months at a time because I “painted a picture?” I have flashbacks, break downs, attacks, and my adult life has been ruined due to my broken childhood because why? My hatred for the woman who gave birth to me and was supposed to love me gives me permanent resentment toward parents and family in general, I have witnesses, which is the reason why custody was taken away from her in the first place! I was a child of the state! I had to be fucking ADOPTED by my grandmother, who was the one adult who finally saw what she was doing to me! February 14, 2007. That day, my entire life changed. And each year, on February 14, I get shell shock. It’s not as bad as it was a few years ago, but it still happens. But oh, I must be lying about that too, huh? Just because someone on the internet isn’t afraid to hide their demons, doesn’t mean they’re PAINTING A FUCKING PICTURE, YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT. Good for you for having a loving, caring mommy! Good for you for being so PERFECT! Good for you for being a fucking IDIOT!! There are things I can’t do now because of what she did! NORMAL things! Like talk on the phone, for one! I’m TERRIFIED of anyone taller than me! I can’t wake people up if I wake up before them! I can’t assist someone unless I ask for permission first! People raising their voice, holding up their hand too quickly, holding up cooking utensils, ALL of that makes me flinch with fear! THAT’S NOT FUCKING NORMAL!! YOU ARE A WORTHLESS LITTLE BRAT THAT ASSUMES THAT, IF SOMEONE HAS HAD A BAD LIFE, THEY’RE LYING BECAUSE THE WORLD CAN’T POSSIBLY BE THAT CRUEL, RIGHT?! Get a fucking reality check! YOU’RE A MORON!! You’re one of the types of people that helps society rot in their own waste, and then throws it around at everyone with a fucking brain so that they have to deal with it too! YOU’RE A SHEEP!! Do you know what happens to sheep? THEY GET SLAUGHTERED!! I sincerely hope that something terrible happens to you. An accident, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, ANYTHING! People like you need to fucking DIE. To quote MJK, “I should play god and shoot you myself.” You’re fucking LUCKY that I’m not the type of person to hunt you down. I’d force you to look at every scar on my body that she directly caused, then I’d give you EVERY detail of the things she did to me, to the point where you lose faith in all of humanity, and finally, I’d do TERRIBLE things to you. But that’s one of the reasons I’m on medication, because I’m not just a danger to myself, I’m a danger to OTHER PEOPLE TOO. And when I take my meds today, this comment isn’t going to bug me so much, I’ll just shake my head at your stupidity, though I will still hope that you get what you deserve because the medication doesn’t change how I feel, it just makes it so I don’t feel things at extremes. But there’s a reason why people I know in person are AFRAID to piss me off. It’s because they know what I’m capable of. I’ve had countless people describe me as “scary,” and that’s not being overly dramatic. Yeah, I can say shit on the internet, but it doesn’t have nearly as much effect as it does in person, when you can see my eyes, hear my voice, read my body language, and feel my rage. I’d be your WORST NIGHTMARE, you stupid, egotistical cunt. You’d regret every single moment of your life where you deliberately tried to mess with someone’s head. Next time, you might not get so lucky. You might mess with someone who is the type to come hunt you down, and they’ll do it. They’ll find you, they’ll torture and kill you, and you know what? I hope they do. I hope that happens to you. If I could, I’d give you all of my memories of her, my trauma, the problems she caused, my nightmares, my fears, EVERYTHING. I’d give them all to you so that you’d have to deal with it, and I’d be free. You’d kill yourself. You would FUCKING KILL YOURSELF. And I would not care. Then again, if I gave you all of the problems she caused, I wouldn’t be a sociopath, so I probably would care! Because empathy is a weakness! But right now, I’m wishing horrible things on you, things I’d NEVER wish upon anyone, things I won’t dare say on the internet because they are that terrible. I may be a fucked up person, I may have more problems than I can handle, I may be a victim to my own psyche, BUT AT LEAST I’M NOT WHATEVER YOU ARE. And if your life is already shitty, and you’re just pushing your misery onto other people, you DESERVE your shitty life. You deserve MORE than a shitty life. You are less than scum. Do us all a favor and die before you have the chance to reproduce.

Why didn’t I say all of that? Because I’m not that far gone. It’s only been like ten hours since I last took my meds, and that’s not nearly enough time to lose myself. If I had been off my meds for a good couple of weeks, I’d have written that, probably something worse, and then I would’ve had an attack. Thankfully, I still have enough common sense to tell myself that that’s what they probably wanted. They wanted me to chew them out. They wanted to upset me. They were probably trying to get a video made about them. Well, they got one thing they wanted; it upset me. While “Annatier” is whispering in my ear to teach this person a lesson, my sanity is yelling in my other ear that it’s not worth it, that this person isn’t worth it. My sanity is also telling me that ranting about it is a waste of my time, but hey, I’m far from perfect. Still, my fantasies are kept from bleeding into my reality, so I can live another day with a flawlessly blank criminal record.

In the most unrealistic of fantasy worlds, I’m friends with Hannibal Lecter, and we’d make sure this person was cooked to perfection. Of course, I would not partake in the consumption because I’m a vegetarian, but at least Hannibal would get to enjoy prime lamb.

My sanity tells me having fantasies like that is childish. Well, that’s what happens when you never got the chance to be a child. At least I can still differentiate between reality and fantasy, though sometimes I wish I couldn’t. Then I could lose myself in those fantasies to escape reality, and I could live in a world that follows my laws, with fictional characters surrounding me that do as I want them to do, behave how I want them to behave.

Alas, this is why I’m not technically considered insane.

“Lucky Me,” She Said with Sarcasm.

I feel like that one wrestler who gets badly injured, is out for a few months, and then comes back, only to get injured again, once again having to leave for a few months. Yep. It’s like… come on, I escaped my life’s biggest tragedy when I was fourteen, and I have PTSD because of it. Surely things would get better, right?

WRONG.

I’ve learned now to never say, “it’ll get better” for me. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” is what I say now. On top of everything I’ve had to deal with so far in my adult life, you’d think the universe would lay off of me a little bit. Nope! Oh Reitanna, you’re such an idiot, having hope for the future. Every time it seems like life isn’t so bad, I get ran over by a train. Not only that, but when Michael is trying to schedule something for me to help fix it, I say, “so, what’s the bad news?” Because I know he doesn’t have any good news! And I’m right every single time! I’m not surprised anymore, but it doesn’t make it any more pleasant.

Let’s just cover the recent things that have happened… I lost all of the weight I wanted to lose and then some! I am currently 113 pounds, and my goal had been 115. My weight keeps going down! I dunno what I’m doing right, but whatever it is, I’ll keep doing it! My diet is decently healthy, but it’s not really that you have to worry about, it’s the number of calories you eat each day. I’ve been eating 1200 calories a day at max for months, and it paid off. I like to eat fruit and yogurt to combat sweet cravings, and every so often, a little 100 calorie ice cream cup. When Aunt Flo comes to see me every month, I’m allowed to eat as much chocolate I want, so when she leaves, I always check my weight to see how much I gained… but I never gain any, I just stay the same as I was before. I rarely snack, and when I do, I make sure to only have one serving, I don’t drink juice with a lot of sugar, I never drink more than I should, and I only have soda every once in awhile, which ends up being once every few months, if that. The only candy I eat is either a special occasion, or that one time of the month.

I turn twenty-six this November. At the time this happened, I was 114 pounds. I am in perfect physical health. No history of this kind of thing in my family. I got a kidney stone. Some people don’t get kidney stones until they’re in their sixties, but most people don’t get them at all! Someone my age, with my weight and diet should not have gotten a kidney stone. It was the most painful thing, literally, not figuratively, I have ever experienced. Here’s the kicker: I didn’t show any of the symptoms that lead up to passing a kidney stone, it just came out of nowhere. Boom. Pain. Oh, did I mention I drink water all day, every day? Not sink water, filtered water. Have been for years. And another thing… my diet has remained the same for over a year now, too. My completely healthy diet has not changed. And I got a kidney stone. I don’t eat anything in excess that causes them, and everything causes them.

We’re gonna get “too much info” personal here. I also have always had a… “plumbing” problem. Ya know, things don’t pass as frequently as they should. I thought it was normal for people to make only once a week, but no, the average is about every other day. So, I needed more fiber! I’ve been taking fiber supplements for a long time now, too, nearly a year. Welp, it’s made it easier, but not more frequent. Why am I bringing this up?

BECAUSE EVERYTHING YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO EAT TO KEEP YOU REGULAR CAUSES KIDNEY STONES.

Leafy greens. Guess what? I don’t eat those anyway! I hate darker green lettuce! It has to be light green for me, otherwise I gag! I can’t even eat spinach unless it’s canned. So, there’s part of my fiber problem, but it doesn’t explain how I got a kidney stone. I eat lots of fruit, including lima beans, which are high in fiber, but again, the “lots” isn’t an excessive amount. Basically, it looks like I’m going to need a colonoscopy!

Back to the kidney stones. There was never blood in my urine, and when I supposedly passed it, no stone was actually discovered. My urine test showed that there was a tiny trace of blood, but that could’ve been from the many scabs I have around my pubic area. There. Is. No. Reason. I. Should. Have. Gotten. A. Kidney. Stone. Ooooh, but here’s the best part! MY KIDNEY STILL HURTS! I urinate more frequently, it’s uncomfortable, and my kidney aches similar to menstrual cramps, except only on that one side! Still, no blood in my urine, and the pain is either worse, or less, depending on the day. I’m drinking cranberry juice, which is supposed to dissolve the stones, but do I even have stones? They did a CT scan at the hospital and said they didn’t see any!

So, I’m just supposed to be in pain for the rest of my life? Do you know what I was planning on doing after I hit my target weight? Working to flatten my tummy and get a belly ring. I wanted to have a tummy I could show off. I was so happy when I reached 114 pounds… now, I can’t work on flattening my tummy because it hurts. Standing and sitting down hurts. Walking or bending over hurts. Everything. Hurts.

That was weeks ago, but the pain hasn’t gone. And today… oh… today… ha! Well, lemme just start off with this: ten years ago, I was eating a vanilla flavored See’s hard candy. I tried to chew it on the left side of my mouth, and I felt something crack. I spit out the candy, but along with it was a very small white piece that actually resembled the candy itself. Upon closer investigation, it was actually part of my tooth. Well, it was not really a big deal; I had had a root canal on that tooth about a year prior, so I didn’t feel any pain. It was just a little chip that I had to make sure to brush and floss extra thoroughly because food got caught in there more easily. I got used to it…

This morning, that same tooth completely split. I try to chew on the right side of my mouth because I have two problems on the left side. One, I still have my wisdom teeth, and at the very back of the left side of my mouth is a space between the bottom tooth and the gums that forms a sort of trench, and a few years back, food started to get trapped in it, because it actually hadn’t been there before! It’s nearly impossible to clean, I brush at it, I use toothpicks to try and clean it out, but it’s too far back in my mouth, and, I dunno if you’ve noticed, I have GIGANTIC TEETH. I’m like Hermione Granger in the dental department, but I can’t have them shrunk. Two, on the top left side of my mouth, the filling in the very last tooth fell out a couple years ago, so there’s a big hole. I can actually feel the gums through the hole. Even though I chew on the right side of my mouth, food still gets stuck in it, and I HATE IT. I brush at it and try to dig it out with a toothpick, but I end up poking my gums, and it hurts. Plus, it’s too far to reach!

So… no matter how often I brush and floss, I continuously have bad breath. I can’t stand it. I hate being a human because we are so fucking gross. I’m gross. I’m gross, and I have always done everything I can to stay clean. It’s no mystery where my self-hatred stems from, and this is one of the main sources.

But this morning, I was chewing my fiber gummies on the right side of my mouth like I always do, but accidentally let one slip to the left side. I bit down on it one time, and I felt that same tooth just crack, and now half of it was able to be wiggled. Again, no roots, so it didn’t hurt. However, I couldn’t get the damn thing out of my mouth with my fingers, so I did the most metal thing I could think of, grabbed some pliers, and yanked the damn thing out. My pain tolerance is pretty high, so it didn’t hurt as much as it should have. Now it’s just a dull ache, but now, instead of having the front of a tooth, I have an exposed filling. Thankfully, this tooth can’t be seen when I talk or smile, but that doesn’t change the fact that this is a health risk.

For those of you who are not adults, and mommy and daddy handle all of your medical costs, you may not know that dental care is horribly expensive. I am a low income independent, so my insurance only covers basic stuff. Michael was on the phone all morning try to find a dentist… well, he found six! Seems like things are finally looking up, huh? NOPE! One was closed, one was fully booked, and all of the others had their problems, and the only one that could take me had a single opening for eight o’clock in the morning. Well, I’m obviously going to sacrifice the sleep I desperately need to try and get this fixed, and hopefully address the other issues going on in my mouth, bu… seriously? Out of six, not one could take me today? I’m afraid to eat anything!

Mike told me, “we’ll get you fixed up, and everything will be fine.” I said, “has it ever been fine? History tends to repeat itself. From my past experiences, I know it won’t be fine. It’ll never be fine.” I mean, FUCK, universe! Couldn’t you just give me cancer? Stop playing with your little toys and finally bring out the big guns to finish me off? This is fucking stupid. I just lost the weight I wanted to lose to feel better about myself… I’m trying not to pick at my face or pull my hair… but what’s the point in trying to be pretty again if I’m just going to lose all of my teeth before I’m thirty? NO MATTER WHAT I DO! I will never be pretty like I was when I was a teenager. God, I was so pretty… I used to look like this:

nature-girl

So pretty… so thin… now I’m thin, but… why does the world hate me? I do absolutely nothing but be the best I can be, I help people, I’m honest, I don’t do drugs, I have a clean criminal record, I’m not abusive… I don’t do anything to deserve these things. This is why I don’t believe in karma.

Now, I’m not saying all of this to hear, “oh, I feel so sorry for you,” so don’t even give me that. I don’t need you to spit in my face, thanks. In case you haven’t noticed, I need to vent about things, I need to complain, and whether or not someone actually reads my blog, I don’t care. It needs to get out, and so I get it out. In the past, when I’ve done this, people have accused me of trying to gain pity and sympathy. It always baffled me, because I was like, “what on earth makes you think that?” I guess it’s because I don’t understand the concept of trying to make people feel sorry for you? All I ever want out of this is to get it out, and for anyone who reads it, to understand. Now I have to actually say I don’t want sympathy because of this sheepshit. It’s… pathetic! It’s like it’s a fad to accuse people of crying out for attention or something. Don’t they understand that it’s healthy to vent?

All the same… I guess I don’t necessarily feel sorry for myself, it’s more like, “really? I haven’t been through enough yet?” They say some people are born into tragedy. I was born from a drug addicted, alcoholic whore who didn’t even know who my father was until they did a paternity test. I had to endure fourteen years of constant physical, mental, and emotional abuse. I still have my first scar from when I was six, and she burned my arm with her cigarette. I have every single scar she ever gave me, and a nice assortment of mental disorders to boot. And when I got free… it just didn’t stop. Thing after thing after thing just kept happening, from being accused of premeditated murder, to being told by my principal that he’d call the police if I didn’t stop crying, to getting in trouble for crying when someone else threatened to kill me, to being used and abused by the worst guy I ever dated, to not being allowed to share a hotel room on our choir trip with my best friend because I had just come out as bisexual at the time, to being kicked out of my grandma’s house after graduation with NO arrangements made as to where I would live, to finally being happy to visit my father for the first time in a decade, only to find that the family expected me to give them money that I didn’t have, to having to sit with my father’s mother in a restaurant and be lectured on how some man was going to take everything I had and I’d have to come crying to her for money, to coming back to California to see my shit packed up and nearly being put on the street AGAIN, and when I finally get some success by getting a job, going to school, getting certified as a makeup artist and licensed as a cosmetologist, I had to endure three years of harassment from an assistant manager to the point where I finally cracked, tried to kill myself, and didn’t leave the house for two years straight because I had gone to Anime LA and was stranded there by the “friend” I had gone with, so I had to ride four hours back with complete strangers, and now my social anxiety is the highest it has EVER been… and that’s just up until 2013… I could go on! Oh, there’s so much more!

And when I’m forced to think about all of this, and realize that I’m still not any closer to getting a house with Michael, getting married, and finally have some fucking peace… my throat feels tight, and I’m actually starting to cry. I took my medication, so this is actual sadness, and I hate it. All I want is to be happy, to smile, to laugh, to feel as colorful as I look… I love feeling happy, it’s the greatest damn feeling in the world… but I’m not happy. I’ve completely ditched my real life responsibilities and created a life in Animal Crossing: New Leaf because I can be healthy there, I can be pretty, I can be social, I have a nice big house, I make money, I’m so successful and happy… I’ve not been working on anything that pertains to me real life job as a YouTuber, and it’s because I had gotten so stressed about people demanding “Muffins,” that I haven’t even touched the next narration in months. It’s bad, and I know it.

I’m just… unlucky. I’m practically a jinx. It’s because I was never meant to be here, I was a mistake. And no, that’s not some emo-boy-dreamy-haircut sheepshit, it’s just an actual conclusion that I have accepted. The fact that I’m not meant to exist doesn’t depress me, it’s that I’m constantly punished for existing, even if I do everything I can to fight life, to do good things, to help other people with their life battles, and I have stopped so many suicides, including my own brother’s. I’m proud of my good nature, especially since I do, in fact, exude 80% of a textbook sociopath’s behavior. I use that to my advantage to protect myself, but having sociopathic traits does not stop me from choosing to do good. And when it all comes down to it, when I finally see some light, just to have it snuffed out again, when every single part of me gets sent back down to the hole I came from, it hurts. It hurts so bad. If there’s a god, this is just one big joke to him. If he created us, he created people like me on purpose. Oh, were you under the impression that I thought I was the only one? Of course not.

There are eight billion people on this planet. I can feel as alone as possible, but the truth is, there are hundreds of thousands of people who were born into tragedy. People who are nothing but bad luck, people who shouldn’t exist. The levels vary; some people have it not as bad as me, some people have it worse, some people have it worse than the people who have it worse, and some people have learned to make it work. I am no different than these types of people. That’s why I don’t feel sorry for myself, because I know that there are countless people in these situations of varying severity. I don’t feel sorry for myself, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not begging the universe to give me a break. I wish it didn’t have to be this way for anyone. That’s why I give advice to those who seek it from me. I want to help them by giving them the tools for survival that I wish I had when I was young. Because it’s not fair. Life is not fair. Life will never be fair. I have accepted this.

But I just want to be happy.

 

(Forgive me, I’m too exhausted to proofread this, so there will be typos. Please respect that I am human, and I am not perfect. Everyone makes typos.)

Just Need to Vent

YouTube finally fixed the problem we were having with the comments page, so I went through a few pages of comments that I wasn’t able to go through for the passed couple of days. There actually weren’t many hateful comments, just one or two, one that made me laugh because they called me “emo,” obviously one of those idiots who doesn’t understand that labels don’t exist to me anymore because I left that behind in high school. Apparently dressing the way you want makes you emo, scene, or goth, even if you wear clothes that don’t fit in with that style. Apparently everything depends on your clothes and hair. Apparently I can’t just enjoy certain fashions. Yeah, well fuck people who think that way, because i’ll wear shit from whatever store I shop from as long as it’s cute. Maybe that’s a frilly pink dress, maybe that’s some awesome blue jeans and a gaming t-shirt, maybe that’s a black corset with a plaid skirt. If I went under labels, then I’d be a different label every time I get dressed, because I have many different styles that can range from “prep” to “goth” or whatever. But even when I had my goth phase in high school, I was never EMO. Apparently ANYTHING dark or unorthodox is fucking EMO. Is punching stupid little shits in the face emo? Because then maybe we’d be on to something.

Anyway, there was one comment that irked me, and the reason why is because it was so unbelievably STUPID, I had to refrain from messaging the person and chewing them out. Instead I simply blocked them, which took away the comment, so I can’t copy and paste it word for word, but i’ll try to remember what it said.

“Do you remember me Reitanna? I am your medicine (or some other stupid shit, the typing was really bad and I can’t remember), I am your mother Aaron.”

The comment was a little longer, but like I said, it was so poorly worded and the spelling was awful, I couldn’t really tell what it said, but I understood the first and last part. Now, let me just clarify something. No, this comment did not scare me or upset me because it was apparently from the woman who birthed me, because it wasn’t. If that whore attempted to comment on my shit and let me know it was her, she would not call me by my INTERNET ALIAS and she would not SPELL HER OWN DAMN NAME WRONG. “Aaron” is a boy’s name, “ERIN” is the female spelling of it. No, why this comment bothers me is because of the simple stupidity. The fact that this person wanted to harm my mentality by trying to act like Erin. Do you know what would’ve happened if that comment had been written correctly? Welp, I’ve got LOTS of different things in my medicine cupboard that would be perfect to overdose on! In fact, I think you can overdose on too much iron, and I have plenty of iron. Hell, I could just take every single goddamn thing in every single fucking pill bottle. If that comment had been written correctly, I’d lose it. I wouldn’t care about promises. I’d have fucking killed myself because it’s either her, or me, and I don’t know where she is. Ha! Or I could go the other route and just do what I’ve fantasized about doing for a loooooooong ass time! This is why I need anti-psychotics.

But you know what, this little fucker, who is probably another stupid ten year old that doesn’t belong on YouTube, is fucking LUCKY that I have enough self control. Because you know what? It’s not hard to find people. It’s not. Especially when you have resources, which I do have. The Deep Web is a very scary place, my friends. and this stupid little fuck is VERY lucky that I am at least sane enough to block his stupid little ass and sit here festering in my own anger. The stupidity is so angersome… I get more stupidity on YouTube than I get on DA, and I am SO glad I don’t go on Tumblr, because then I’d shoot myself, and the gun is not my preferred way to go. Too loud. Plus, there have been instances where people have tried to shoot themselves and survived, and I am not living as a faceless vegetable. In fact, when I write my will, I will make sure to state, “if I am ever in a vegetative state, PULL THE PLUG.”

I really wish I could sock this kid in the face though. No… even better, I wish I could take all of my thoughts, feelings, and memories and zap them into his/her brain and make them experience every single second of torment I had to go through from that pig that dares to call herself my mother. Heh… maybe he’d off himself and the gene pool would be cleared of one less idiot.

Are you happy kid? You got what you wanted. You got under my skin. But just so you know (not that you’re even reading this), you could’ve caused a death. If you were intelligent in any way, shape, or form, you would’ve caused someone to commit suicide. YOU ARE SCUM.

I get my medication back in 5 days… it will be so nice not to feel like this anymore… so easily angered, so full of hate, so tempted to go out and do something that could land me in jail, so willing to end my own life. And you know what? If I did, that stupid fuck would be happy. As would many people. As would I. All the same…

I feel sorry for that kid’s FUCKING PARENTS.