If you follow this blog at all, you know I am not a sunshine spewer. I like to tell it true. Now, the normal challenges are fun and all- favorite this, have you ever,quote a day…
But if you really wanna get to know a person, or know who around you truly accepts you for who you are…Then you gotta start showing the ugly underbelly.
So..My challenge, to myself, as well as to anyone else who cares to go there..Post some ugly truths about yourself on your blog. Things you know are socially unacceptable, unpopular, gross, neurotic, ugly. Have the guts to put it out there…and the faith that those who truly are your friends…will not think less of you.
It’s a painful thing, seeing yourself for who you really are. Many people simply can’t do it. As the donor used to yell at me, frequently, “Why can’t you just let me have my denial?”
Denial’s your right. It’s just not honest and I don’t respect it. In you or me.
So..let’s see how many real friends I have.
I am a TERRIBLE housekeeper. I mean, biohazard 1 is the norm here. I feel bad on occasion because I know I am expected to but the truth is…Some people are such neat freaks a speck of dust would send them into meltdown. Some people can live with trash piled up. To each their own. I keep dishes done, trash out, and laundry washed (rarely folded promptly.) My kid’s never spent a day in the hospital so if dirt makes you sick…We both have mutant immune systems. If neat and orderly are your thing…Yay. Just don’t judge me for not being you.
My favorite font is…comic sans. For some reason this makes me a Philistine but I don’t care. It’s the one font that is unique yet readable. And yeah, I once started a war on Reddit by claiming comic sans as my favorite font and people went batshit so..This is a thing.No idea why.
Same as…I don’t and never have, understood, why my clothing choices are anyone’s business other than my own. I like leggings and tank tops or baggy t-shirts. It’s been my style since I was 12 and I like it. I despise jeans (with my odd proportions, they never ever fit right). In my depressions I rarely wear a bra or underwear. Judge me for all I care. Personally, I view bras as devices of torture and underwear are really just one more uncomfortable layer of sweat causing fabric.
I yell at my kid. I swore I never would. But after three or four times of saying the same thing and being ignored…I bring out the “satan voice”. Maybe it makes her hate me. But she gets four chances which is four more than my parents ever gave me before they started screaming.
I mix my meds with alcohol. Oh, baaad girl. I know. I did the stone cold sober thing for years, watching everyone around me have a blast while I trusted my wonderful meds would eventually kick in and make me feel the same way without alcohol. It never happened. So occasionally when the stress builds up…I will have a few drinks and I don’t waste time apologizing. You can make the argument that “no wonder the meds don’t work” and I’d agree with that…if I hadn’t gone it their way and still gotten nowhere.
I fall asleep every single night to a playlist of crime shows. Not once have I had a nightmare about being murdered. (Though the Titanic episode of Unsolved Mysteries did trigger a nightmare from hell.) I have no desire to murder. Just Z-Whack on occasion. I am not dangerous. I am not a sadist. I view crime shows from a psychological standpoint. Since a teen, I have wondered why some people become killers and some do not. It’s always the “troubled childhood” explanation and yet…what I went through with being bullied in school…I should have turned out to be a mass shooter or some shit. Yet I didn’t. And I listen to heavy metal! Ya know, heavy metal makes everyone a satan murderer and yet…I didn’t get that right. WTF.
The one thing I feel guilty about…I pretty much raised my sister while our parents worked. But I busted my ass to move out of that armpit town when I was 17. A few months after I moved out, my mom turned up at my door with my 12 year old sister who kept trying to kill herself and mom and the doctors were at their wits’ end…They all thought I could help her. I had made plans that night and rather than have my priorities straight…I chose my plans over my little sister. It was nearly 25 years ago and still, I feel guilty. My “plans” that amounted to a guy who wouldn’t publicly admit to even knowing me so…Yeah, I deserve that guilt. At the same time…I still think it was wrong for my mom to put that much pressure on me. That was her child, not mine, and I was only 18…I spent five years caring for my sister, I wanted my own life…The guilt just doesn’t stop.
Hard as I try…I can be judgmental. Because people have always judged me so harshly and continue to do. Sometimes, I recognize my own hypocrisy. Sometimes, I feel justified. Like the day one of the devil girls came over and said, “You need to keep an eye on me, Dad forgot I was allergic to fish and fed us tuna so I might need to go to the hospital.” HUH? I’d be keeping my kid home with me until I knew for sure, ffs. But then, I wouldn’t forget my kid’s allergy. And the other day the other devil girl came over, eating raw ramen noodles and I offered to cook them…”No, dad won’t cook them and I like them this way.” HUH? These are the parents who wouldn’t let their kids play with mine for nearly two years over a lice outbreak. They JUDGED me and this is how they do their kids???? Whereas when I say “death to all JUstin Bieber fans” I know I just don’t like his music or his air balloon sized ego and think anyone who does is deaf. That’s my hypocrisy.
I have trouble relating to outgoing or ‘popular’ people. I was always the ostracized so all I understand is the underdog. If you were a cheerleader and class president and blah blah blech…I probably don’t comprehend you. It’s my failing. I own it. That being said…In the event of the zombie apocalypse…If I am forced to choose between a former cheerleader or a nerd wearing headgear…I hope the pompoms prove tasty for the zombie.
Politics and religion make me white hot angry. I am all for believing in what comforts you. Life offers little comfort, get it where you can. BUT when a religion claims this all loving forgiving God UNLESS YOU ARE GAY, SMOKE, DRINK, SWEAR, WEAR WHITE AFTER LABOR DAY- that’s just bullshit. And politics…Trump is gonna doom us. Clinton will doom us. Because the bottom line is, they are all liars. They say what they have to in order to get in. Then do whatever they want. Obama got in with “healthcare for all” only for people to learn after the fact, healthcare for all means IF YOU CAN AFFORD IT OTHERWISE WE ARE GOING TO CHARGE YOU FOR BEING BROKE. Truth fucking hurts, sheeple.
Okay. I think that’s enough bridge burning for now. I stand by every word and if I see my followers drop I will know honesty has a price. That’s fine. If I don’t have the courage of my convictions I don’t deserve free speech.
For those who accept me in all my hideousness and stick around…I love you guys for having the balls to do that.
You’d be surprised how many people find it easier to run away than agree to disagree.