Friday, August 24, 2012
Yes, I'm Drunk... But I've Been A LOT Drunker (more drunk, I get it) Than I Am Now. Many Times, In Fact..
On nights like tonight, I’m actually regretting that I hate guns and pills. I never learned how to tie a noose. Besides, that’s an exceptionally morbid way to commit suicide.
Oh my god? Is she actually talking about suicide? Or in your mind, did you ACTUALLY say, OMG.
Yeah, you are the reason.
Okay, you are only a small part of the reason. At this exact moment, good music and my parents are the only opposing reason that I’m sitting here writing in a stupid blog rather than finding some less morbid way to off myself.
I’ve been what most doctors would call depressed for the majority of my adult life. It’s probably in my best interest to be on whatever anti-depressant is paying the most these days to their distributors. Anything to shut off the only voice inside my head that never makes any sense. The one I listen to, then condemn, then ignore, then listen to again. And behold!! Always wrong.
A "Facebook" friend (I specify “Facebook” because there is a difference) once told me to listen to my gut because the gut is never wrong.
Well, let me tell you - the gut is always wrong. Always.
I’ve never felt the sharp pang of regret until tonight. I mean, real, true, “I could’ve changed the future for myself and so many others if only I would’ve chosen differently” kind of regret.
I should’ve married my high school sweetheart. He was handsome, intelligent, from a wealthy family and loved me more than anyone ever has since. The fact that I thought I could do better makes me sick every day when I look in the mirror, see my face that grows old, my hair that shines with the beginning streaks of gray and my body that I have to fight constantly to keep “desirable” by society’s standards. I had everything at sixteen years old that I’ve been chasing ever since then.
I think I’ve done this amazing job putting my family back together. I think that I’ve made a difference. So self-absorbed, I am. If I was really that important, my brother wouldn’t still find me insignificant and the efforts I make with my entire family wouldn’t seem superficial. I still feel like an outsider... because that’s what I am.
What does it matter if I stay in Las Vegas or move to Long Beach? Do I want to be invisible in the desert or by the ocean? At least the ocean has a better view. But really, am I really so stupid that I think some guy who is kind of into me will make all the difference?
I could be with the one that loved me more than anything. Maybe then, I would’ve stayed in Washington. My parents would’ve stayed there instead of moving to Las Vegas. My brother wouldn’t have followed them to Sin City. We could’ve avoided a life of drugs and separation. We could’ve been small town and normal. I might have even chosen a Christian, Republican lifestyle and hate the world so much less than I do now.
So, what is it that I have to look forward to... a decent work station at a new restaurant? An apartment that will cost me more than I make? A man that thinks maybe he could be into me (be still, my heart)?
And Family Fit Club... it’s harsh to use “joke” as a way to describe it. I’m very serious about this... but into its second season, I’m already not getting the results from others I want. I was really hoping that it would encourage my friends and family to change their lifestyle - to choose a life of health and well being instead of overeating and laziness. Instead, I’ve created a monster that indulges for a few days and then starves to “make weight”. I never intended to run a wrestling camp. A healthy diet and exercise. It’s the only answer. But no... Burger King for two days and then no eating for two more to avoid having to pay any money - that’s what I’ve created. Not exactly what I had in mind.
It’s hard being an Atheist. It’s hard believing that there is no God waiting to congratulate you on all of your good intentions, whether they worked out for you or not. But it’s even harder believing in the fairy tale that if I’m a good girl, I’ll get a seat in Heaven.
There is no Heaven. There is no right answer and, unfortunately for me and this stupid blog, there is no prince waiting for me. If there was, I chose my ego over him a long time ago. And it seems like I’ve been paying for it ever since.
Maybe I’m supposed to be an example. Like all those who went before me that were sad and lonely but managed to create at least one beautiful thing before they went. Maybe somebody, one day, will appreciate me as someone they avoided becoming. Thank goodness for Tina - she showed me all the ways NOT to be so I can have happiness.
I should’ve married my high school sweetheart, had kids, owned guns and voted Republican. At the very least, I should never, ever have quit smoking pot.
Now here I am, pretending I’m okay with my life... pretending like I actually have things working in my favor, imagining some guy out there actually wants to be with me, thinking my brother and I have a good relationship...
At least there is the music. And it is good... the music, that is.
Posted by Tina V at 12:28 AM