I’m really not looking forward to working at 7 am today. Hopefully my bitchy co-worker isn’t there. Oh yeah, I finally got a job. I just started on Sunday (it was so hectic). I make coffee and smoothies for people. It’s pretty cool I guess. The whole staff is extremely friendly and lovable…except for one particular individual. She’s supposed to be my trainer, but she is doing a bad job at it and everybody is starting to realize so. She hasn’t really explained much to me and when I ask her questions (keep in mind I’ve only worked two days) she seems to get upset with me. But she’s only like that with me. This girl gets along so well with everybody else, but when it comes to me she gets all irrationally angry. She doesn’t even try to talk to me like everybody else does. Not to mention, I heard her whispering to another co-worker of mine who, in response, blurted out “That’s so mean!”. The other day when I got off of work I went into the bathroom and as I turned around to leave, she walked inside and completely ignored my presence. It was obviously me, she couldn’t have any excuse for it. The space outside of the bathroom stalls are no bigger than my balcony. And I hate being put in these types of situations because I don’t know what to do…I don’t even know what to think. Is she mad at me because I ask a ton of questions? Maybe she doesn’t like me because I’m a shy person. That’s another thing. I NEED to get over my shyness, especially with this job. I feel as if people just think that they can step all over me because I tend to be very timid and helpless. I told my sister about all of this and asked for advice. She told me to start sticking up for myself and not to take any more shit from this girl. If only it were that easy. I’m probably going to be scheduled to work with her for at least a week since she is my trainer. Oh lord. Fuck her! Why is it that everywhere I go, no matter how kind and respectful I am to people, there is always someone who wants to make me feel bad about myself. It’s always been this way for me. Why can’t I find one person who just makes me feel good and nothing less. I hate to get side-tracked, but I’m just now starting to think that’s the reason why I’m such a romantic. Perhaps I’m so wrapped up in the idea of falling in love because I want someone who will make me feel worthwhile. That isn’t healthy, is it? I really want to start loving myself completely before I allow somebody else to. There are just so many things that I have to check off from this shallow list. A lot of people say that losing weight isn’t going to clear all of your problems, but I know that it will definitely help me a lot with mine. Anyway, I’ll probably get more into detail about weight loss and everything. But for now, I really should go to sleep. If I do have to deal with that girl tomorrow morning, I might as well get a god’s night rest. I’m really going to need it.
Fuck, okay….I don’t know…I just…feel so alone in a world that doesn’t care. I know how indecisive I seem, or am. I truly don’t have many friends and the ones that I do have, do not give a damn about me. I literally have one friend here, back at home, other than my sibling. All of my other friends left me after high school or I just completely fucked up our friendship to the point where they don’t want to deal with me anymore. I mean, yeah, there are a couple of people who try to talk to me still, but they aren’t the type of friends that I want. A lot of people would probably laugh at me and say that beggars can’t be choosers, but I don’t think that really applies here. I want friends, yes…but I don’t want people who talk behind others’ backs or who would treat me like shit/not accept me for who I genuinely am. I don’t know, I really don’t. Maybe I just push people away too much. I’m always blowing off band practice and whenever my sibling wants me to go with them and their friends I always say no or make some last-minute, bullshit excuse. Goddess, I’m so boring. I’m so tired and weary and drained of life. I fail, miserably, at keeping good relationships with people. Why couldn’t I have just been some wonderfully social being and get along with anyone who crosses my path? I’m too weird. Oh, and the other night as I was getting out of the car, I over-heard my sibling’s friend saying that I seem like I get pissed off easily. What? This person hasn’t even given me a chance…they don’t even know me well. This is the assumption that they are making of me? I’m not an angry person, what-so-ever. I truly am confused as to why they said that, although I have a slight feeling it’s because i’m shy/socially awkward. I must seem like an irrationally angry person because I don’t have any friends and I don’t know how to keep up a good conversation. Goddess, I want to cry. What have I ever done to deserve this life? I, personally, don’t know a single individual who seems to have such negativity going on in, as well as around, them. I can’t help it that i’m an introvert. I can’t help it that my facial features don’t exactly match society’s perception of beauty. I can’t help that nobody is attracted to me as a person. I just don’t want people to see me like this, I don’t want anybody to know me when I’m at rock-bottom. Why isn’t anybody willing to wait for me? Am I really that insignificant? Just give me time…please, maybe a few months…or a year. I can fix myself, I promise. I think I can do it, I can lose weight. I can get a job. My oily, pimple-prone face? It’ll go away. I can start laughing more often and I’ll get out of the house more. I’ll be happy one day. Please just don’t leave me. I don’t have anyone.
It is…da da da da!…January 10th! How am I spending my Friday night? Well, funny you should ask…I am currently sitting on my bed, eating Menchie’s frozen yogurt, aggressively looking through the instagram of/getting irrationally pissed off at the show/museum person that I was talking about in recent posts. And i’m doing all of this while being agonizingly tortured by the annoying sounds, of which my brother calls music, coming from his room (the only thing separating us is what seems to be a paper-thin wall. Any who, so the person, whom I described earlier on, wants to “meet up” next weekend. Let me tell you, I am scared out of my wits to meet them. I feel as if i’m too overweight at the moment and that I can’t match up with the person who they thought I was. To give you a rough idea of the difference between the person who they thought I was and myself: let’s say that they are Elvis Presley (before the weight gain), I’m Samuel L. Jackson +30 pounds. Okay, let’s say that they are Anne Hathaway, I’m Jennifer Hudson (before the weight loss). Maybe that didn’t help, but the point is I am no where near as attractive, experienced, or musically savvy as the person in the pictures. I just know that they probably aren’t expecting what they’re going to get, and unfortunately not in a good way.
It’s a new year, another day, and a wasted week. I’m starting my new vegan lifestyle today. That, and no more weed or alcohol (not that drinking was ever a problem for me in the first place). Today is the ninth and 9 is my absolute favorite number so it’s a good thing for me. Anyway, the other night I was cornered, literally, at Souplantation by my dad and grandpa into talking about college. Let’s just say I didn’t hear anything new and the mac ‘n cheese would have tasted a whole lot better if the nagging wasn’t included. AND the person with the great music taste/personality/face/sense of humor decided to pack their things and get ready to walk out the door. It seems like i’m the one who has to reach for their shoulder and beg them to stay. It’s funny, before they knew who I truly was, they used to send me rows of heart-eyed faces and told me that I was “perfect”. The conversations lasted for hours and one never ceased to intrigue the other. After each message I’d sent, a new one filled with lovely little letter arrangements was waiting to arrive on my side of the table. Now, all I get is “ahhah wow”, “yeah”, and “sorry, I was at my friend’s show” every two or three days, sprinkled with half-assed smiley faces if I’ve been good. I’m just laying here, wondering when I went from this adorable person who deserves to be taken out on a date to the museum followed by a private show and shower of kisses to a worthless rebound. I’ve been reduced to none more than a “cute butt” and #1537. How is it that I turned into this creature of disgust, in your eyes, when the only thing that changed was shape and pigment.
Oh goddess, i’m so nervous. I’m anxious and inpatient and scared. I met someone who shares the same exact interests as myself. They are out-of- this-world attractive as well so it really doesn’t make my situation any better. So a few days ago, I met this particular person through a dating website, unintentionally, and everything was great. The conversation was smooth and actually very intriguing. They told me that they found me to be utterly attractive and kind-hearted. I thought the same about them. This person is perfect in every single way, right down to their little colloquialisms. They asked me if I wanted to go to the Natural History Museum sometime soon (keep in mind this is one of my most favorite places to go to around the general area of which I live) and to a show being held in a pool, about an hour away from here. I said that I would love to go and promised that I would try to make it. Here was my dilemma though - the pictures that I used for this dating site profile were not my own. I was in the process of an at-home psychology experiment. I, again, wanted to observe the difference in feedback between two profiles using people of the opposite race. I didn’t think that results from only one source was reliable enough. I used my own pictures for one and another individual’s pictures for the other. Well, this one person decided to message me and like I said, the conversation and everything was great. Today, I built up the courage to finally tell them that I wasn’t the person in the pictures that they saw. They responded saying that they were surprised and that they still thought that I was interesting. They told me that they were curious as to what my own face looked like and asked if it was a psychology experiment. It took me a couple of hours to respond back, but I sent a picture of myself along with, “Yes it was.” I haven’t received anything back from them yet, and I’m still patiently waiting. I’ve never been so nervous in my entire life. This is the first person that I have ever met who likes me for myself. They are so silly and playful, but at the same time, very charming and musically savvy. I’m so so scared that they won’t ever want to talk to me again. I messed up, but I am hopeful that everything works out between us.
Strange, these past couple of months I thought my life was just floating down the drain. I had gone through complete misery. I absolutely hated myself and what I had become. I failed all of my classes and I only had four. I gained weight and I am even more in debt than I was at the beginning of the semester. I’ve applied, numerous times, for jobs and have yet to receive a call back. All of my friends cut contact with me after high school. The only person that I feel I had ever truly loved is now dating someone who looks terrifyingly similar to them and has become a “high-fashion” model. The last time I had ever seen them, they didn’t even give me a second glance. I had become sick and weary of finding my significant other. My skin broke out like madness and my cuticles are cut all around. My lack of going through daily hygienic rituals is repulsive. It didn’t help, at all, how I was frequently comparing my life to a certain successful individual either. My grandpa told me that he thinks I lack a feeling of self-worth and that I hadn’t developed a stable personality as of yet. Let’s just say that I wasn’t exactly in a right state of mind and I felt the pressure coming from all walls closing in on me. I always thought it was the most cliche form of piecing someone back together to say, “Once you’ve hit the bottom, there’s no where to go but back up”. I never really understood why so many people constantly used this, in particular, to get by. It was an expression which was far beyond being overvalued. Yesterday, I took a little time out from the day and thought about it. I stared at the curtains and re-evaluated my situation. Let me tell you, I have never felt more energetic and ready to fix everything straight. I know that it isn’t even the next year yet, but I feel so alive and enthused. I mean, what the heck! I don’t even have to wait until 2014 to feel happy again. My new life starts now. I know that it will take me quite a while to get to where I want to be in life, but it’s going to happen. I will be the best version of myself even if it takes a couple years. I just want to take this time to say thank you for joining me on this tidal wave of my life. I know that I had crashed and wept on the shore. Now there’s no place to go but back to the big ocean.
So i’m a little buzzed right now, but the show must go on. Okay, so today I decided to chat it up a bit with an old friend. We argue, playfully, back and forth as usual. So anyway, they said that we should drink next time we “hang out” so I agreed and the conversation went on. It got pretty boring so I decided not to respond to their last message. The last thing they said was, “No problemo”. Sounds like a conversation end-er to me. What’s been bothering me, recently though, is that this person has been on my mind for the past couple of days. It’s kind of gotten to the point where I had masturbated in the shower to the thought of them this morning. I’m pretty sure they’re in a relationship at the moment and I feel bad about it, but I can’t help it. I should just back off, right? I don’t know. This particular person was very interested in me a year or two ago, but I wasn’t sure about it. I knew that they had these feelings about my old best friend, which is why I never gave them a chance. Hold on, I have to pee………wow I just peed in a glass in an attempt to avoid going to my parents’ room. I literally just filled up a glass and a half. Alright, well I don’t know man. I feel like if I consume any kind of alcohol with this person, then the truth will come out. I don’t want the truth to come out. I want the truth to stay in. If I tell this person how I felt about them and that whole situation, it could potentially fuck up their entire current relationship. I don’t know. I just don’t know. All I do know is that they want to get drunk next Saturday, and there isn’t really any other way around it.
I’ve decided I don’t want to be in a relationship anymore. I don’t care for it. I really don’t mind not finding a significant other. I have given up on that, not because i’m lazy or anything, but because I just don’t believe anyone is good enough for me. If they are good enough, then they don’t want me anyway. I’m constantly horny though. Not a day goes by that I don’t have these sexual cravings. I don’t want to use another person solely for sex though. I have always thought that sex should be something between two people in love…or at least when you ARE in love, it will enhance it. If I wouldn’t want to deal with the person that I am going to have sex with, then why would I go ahead and sleep with them in the first place? That is what masturbating is for. The only thing is, well for my situation, is that I have to share a room. Sharing a room with someone is one of the most horrible things a sexually frustrated person can go through. I kind of hate it, honestly. It would be nice to have a room all to myself and to be able to lock the door whenever I please. I could indulge in touching myself and just having privacy in general. Not to mention I wouldn’t have to stay extremely quiet when I do. I’m going to be 100% truthful with these journal entries. I do masturbate with the other person still in the room. I haven’t done it recently though. I just get sick and tired of having to constantly strap myself down to the bed when I get that itch. This person never leaves the room too and I feel like sometimes they try to watch me when I masturbate. It’s kind of unsettling, isn’t it? That’s what I thought at first, I just stopped caring altogether. If they want to stare at me at night and pretend they are sleeping, then go right on ahead! I’m not going to hold myself back. But nowadays I just wait until they leave or just not do anything at all. I try my best not to think about sex. It always ends with me feeling terribly unsatisfied and sometimes unwanted. Oh well.
I’ve been reading many inspirational quotes lately, especially following the death of Nelson Mandela. I feel like I can still change my life for the better and make things finally work. I applied for a job at a local Office Depot, literally walking distance, and today i’m going to speak with an academic adviser to see what I can do to stay at the university. If I have to leave the school for whatever reason, then i’m going to attend a community college about 25 minutes away from my house. There is a jc closer to my house, but I’d rather not go there just because they aren’t exactly the best out there and the person who bullied me in high school goes there. I would just prefer not to see their face ever again. Anyway, this post is going to be pretty long. I have to make up for these past couple of days that I haven’t been on. Well, aside from everything looking up and what not, I’m having trouble with my ex. I don’t know if I can even say that I was in a relationship with them, but here is how it all went down. So, I set up two accounts on this dating website as sort of an at-home sociology experiment. The reason why I decided to do this was because I wanted to study the amount and quality of feedback between two people of different ethnicities. For one account, I used my actual pictures and for the other I used someone else’s. There were no differences between the two profiles other than the pictures, the usernames (which were literally one letter off), and the name that I used for the other account. Everything was perfectly symmetrical - the description, height, body type, religious views…everything. I even responded to messages on the other account exactly as I would with the one using my own pictures. Alright, so I met this person through the second profile and we automatically clicked. I never wanted to find someone to actually become romantically involved with, as this was purely for experimental purposes, but this person seemed to understand me a great deal. As our relationship progressed, I felt exceedingly uncomfortable with the fact that I had been lying through my fingertips to this person that I felt so strongly in love with. I tried several times to cut it off and move on with my life, but there was always something that brought me back to this particular person. I feel as if there might have been some form of manipulation going on, but I really don’t know. Every time I would stop talking to them, they would cry and write me paragraphs and paragraphs of emails telling me that they don’t understand why I ended our relationship so abruptly. I would get voice mails every single day of them weeping over the phone and trying to come up with some kind of explanation as to why I didn’t want to be with them. It hurt, every time I would hear it. I knew that they had been in a rough relationship a few months prior to the one we shared. Over the course of our 5 months together, I could sense that this person was becoming somewhat obsessed with me (or the person who they thought I was). They found my Snapchat account through their contacts list and added me. I knew that this whole scheme of mine was going too far. One day I sent them a simple snap - the blinds of the sliding door next to my bed. They asked if it was me (using the name of the second profile) and I said yes. I only wanted to explain to them what had been going down for the past few months. They seemed so elated to hear from me, as I had been ignoring their calls and messages for a couple weeks before, and it tore me up so much. It wasn’t the right thing to do, but I carried on with pretending to be this person. I made them think that everything was peachy and that the hole in our relationship was finally patched up. I carried it on like this for another week and a half until I felt absolutely sick with myself. I stopped talking to them yet again, but this time for about three weeks. I sent them a letter through the mail, basically making it sound as though the person they knew was dead and gone. As if that person disappeared off of the face of the earth. They didn’t understand. Instead of taking it and leaving it at that, they messaged me numerous times. They called me self-righteous and said things like, “I guess I deserved it, right? You are too good.” Being as disgusted with myself as I was, I decided to try to come clean to them. I sent a snap as myself. When they asked if I was the second profile, I said no and that I didn’t know anyone who had that name. We responded to each other a few times through pictures, but they didn’t seem interested in me at all. I kept feeling as if they were bored with me and that they wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible. A couple days ago, I added a few pictures to “My Story”. I purposefully made them out in the fashion that I would when I was pretending to be the second profile, in a desperate attempt to get a grasp of their attention. They noticed immediately and sent me a snap saying that they were confused. I was at loss for words. I wasn’t expecting them to respond so quickly. Instead of explaining everything to them. I completely shut them off again. I was too scared to respond or say anything. I knew I would have to tell them one day, but my explanation just doesn’t seem valid. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them the truth and even if they did, they would think that the whole relationship was a lie. I loved everything about them. Their taste in music, their honesty, their integrity, their personality, their smile, the way that they laughed, how I could tell them all of my problems, how they loved it when I called them the stupid little pet names I came up with - “angel” “honeydew” “lovely” “sweet pea” “darling”, the little sigh that they gave after we shared our fantasies over the phone. I loved how I could always tell when they were smiling when we spoke. We had so much in common - our favorite color, sense of humor, favorite ice cream flavor, favorite theme parks, fear of heights, views on situations/experiences, our insecurities, goals/ambitions, etc….they even spoke the language that I had always found to be most attractive (my views on this have changed now). They were one of the most beautiful and genuine creatures I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. It’s all falling down now. I don’t know what to tell them. I don’t know how to go about explaining to them that although the pictures weren’t me, I still do truly love them. I should have told them from the beginning, right? I couldn’t. It was only an experiment.