Anonymous asked: Why should you have to buy stuff for your boyfriend?
Wow, you’ve never met him, have you? It’s not a matter of buying objects as an obligation, it’s doing significant things that will make him smile like he makes me because I want to. I’d like to surprise him and go places with him and look nice for him and be more confident because he is so perfect and no matter what he does or says I feel like there are a thousand people that deserve someone as incredible as he is more than I do. It’s like, he’s too great to even exist and I just want to make him happy more than anything.
So a few days ago I got a full time job and just now it hit me how significantly it will improve my life. It means i’ll finally be able to visit my best friend on the other side of the world, I can save for ink so I can start covering myself in art as soon as I turn eighteen, buy incredible things and go amazing places with Trent, visit my sister who is living with a member of one of my favorite bands in Brisbane, have regular social contact so i’ll have more confidence and less anxiety as well as being able to dress nicely and wear nice make-up so I stop feeling so repulsive. I’m ready to be happy.
I’m so tired of inconsideration, people hurting people because they can. I’m tired of this fucking perception of myself, i’m tired of the impossible requirements I set to let myself feel worthy of anyone. I’ve been ill for such a long time and i’m trying so hard to get better, it feels impossible when there are always people there to tell you that you’re not good enough to feel normal. I cant tell whether I should go forward or back.
I’m not sure if I have to have an ID to travel on an aeroplane to Brisbane and I’ve always had a problems with photos I can’t delete so I’ve never had one before, so I have to deal with that this week before I leave. Aside from that I’m terrified of what flying will be like or what it’ll be like to be away from my cats, mum and Trent for a whole week. There are few circumstances in which this anxiety would be worthwhile, luckily this is one.
I feel better. I’m waking up early tomorrow morning to go to the grocery store and but ice cream, maple syrup and ingredients to make pancakes, then i’m spending until Wednesday in bed with Trent playing xbox and watching full metal alchemist. Dicks to being angry, sometimes I forget how incredible the people in my life are.
I’m not patient enough for everybodys inaccurate perception of this situation any more and I’m so frustrated because I never thought i’d regret being respectful or passive. I wish I was a fucking jerk so atleast i’d deserve this bullshit.
There’s nobody in the world that can make me happier than Trent Holliday.
Apparently it doesn’t matter that I spent at least a third of my interview yesterday subconsciously rambling about my cats - which the interviewer didn’t pretend not to notice- and a majority of the rest borderline having an anxiety attack, I got the job at 24/7 direct, which means as of tomorrow I’m a telemarketer. Yeah, i’m that guy. Anyway, I’m on the train to meet the people I work with now, this is terrifying.
Evidently I didn’t do quite as bad as I thought in my interview yesterday, I got called in for the second part today. Assuming I can get past my nerves and how much i’m not alright with my face today, I may just get employed ..as a telemarketer …in the city Whatever, I need a job, wish me luck!
My best friend moved to England in 2007, but for the past seven or so weeks she’s been visiting Australia like she does every year. In the time that she’s been here she’s helped me get out of the place I’ve put myself in the past six months and her being here has reduced my social anxiety to almost nothing. Every single time she visits she makes me so much better, it’s incredible how significant she is. Her plane leaves today but no matter how far away she is or how long she’s there, Ally Boyd-Cave will always be my best friend.
I haven’t written for such a long time because now I’m so conscious of the people that might read it or how people might respond to it, which is a stupid thing for me to say because what I’m publishing is to the Internet, of all places, where anybody can access it and everybody has an opinion, right? Not only that, but my almost constant analysis of negative thoughts leads to clarity when I write, when expressing positivity doesn’t come so easily to me so I don’t do it nearly as regularly. This isn’t a diary, i don’t write about everything. Regardless, posting my thoughts that I can’t tell people directly feels like some sort of step to making myself better. The bottom line, I guess, is that I’m going to start again but if anybody does read what I write I want them to know that they’re loose thoughts when I’m feeling down, everything sounds worse than it is. Well yeah, I guess that’s it.
I’ve dwelled the fuck out of everything that went down in the past year, justifying every action to myself and letting being unsure if I did anything wrong eat away at me more than anything anybody has or could have said. I’ve excluded myself from everyone that means anything to me, except my family and Trent, to the point of not knowing how to deal with holding a conversation with anybody outside of my house without intoxication. I get so frustrated at myself and I take it out on the only people I still speak to.
Today it occured to me that the situation i’m in is absolutely self-inflicted. Every single person has and will unintentionally hurt another. From my perspective for example, I’m dating somebody who’s been my best friend for years, which I don’t regret, but in dumbing down a complicated situation i’m with somebody that had history with two people I used to be close with and I didn’t realize it but regardless of what they did, I fucked them over like they did to me. I didn’t mean to fuck so much up but even in hindsight I can’t think of anything I could have done to prevent friendships falling apart even if I could change the past.
What I can change is what i’m doing now. I’ve put myself in a bad place because I let over-thinking and clueless anonymous abuse keep me from seeing how great everything should be at the moment. I’m in the first relationship I’ve ever been comfortable with, I have unbelievable friends and the most amazing family. This week i’m going to find myself a job, start making plans with people and start being a better girlfriend. I’m also turning off anonymous because i’m too petty and defencive to not reply to lame questions. I’ve isolated myself like this before and I almost got over my anxiety completely before this, there’s no reason things can’t get better again. Time to focus on good shit.
Anonymous asked: If you don't mind me asking: why did it take so long to lose your virginity?
No one will respect you if you don’t respect yourself.
“Picture you, me, your brother, sister, father, mother, every single person you’ve ever known in a room. It’s dark, crowded and the food available is enough to keep your organs working but you’re weak. There are people all around you starving. You want to help them but you’re fighting to keep yourself alive, there’s nothing you can do but try to survive. You can barely breathe because the air is so full of dust and pollution. Picture something far larger than you, you can’t understand what they’re saying but they’re moving through the crowd violently, beating those who are injured and unable to move fast enough to evade them. These are the monsters. Picture a family member, they’re unable to move and they’re pleading for their life to be spared. The monster picks up a brick and throws against their skull, crushing it and moving their corpse aside like it was never living at all. Picture this trauma, every single day of your life. You hope for a better future and you beg and pray to whoever you turn to when faith is all you have, but you almost know the worst is yet to come.
Picture finally leaving your prison. The monsters are indicating for everybody to climb onto a huge metal platform. You’ve never seen the sun but you embrace it from the second you step outside. This is the first time you’ve been happy in you’re life. Gates close and the metal starts moving. You have to take small breaths because there isn’t enough space for your diaphragm to expand completely but you’re still happy, you’re happy because there’s finally hope that everything you went through was worthwhile.
Now, picture that scene from the hostel 2. You know, the one where the crazy bitch has that annoying girl up side down and she’s lying in the bath? Okay, that scene, fucking everywhere. Everyone you’ve loved or hated, every single fucking one that’s left are hanging from the ceiling. They’re struggling and conscious, but their throats have been cut and you’re knee-deep in blood. You’re clipped up by one of your legs and the monster turns to you. You’re bleeding now, and you’re light-headed. You know you’re dying and the pain is unbearable, but you’re almost relieved it’s over because you have nothing left to live for and you finally realize nothing is worth the things you’ve seen. You don’t know why the monsters did this to you, but you hope it was worth it. You hope they can never sleep knowing what they did to you; what they put you through.
Now, you’re a monster. Not the ones that massacred billions of families, but you hire them. The blood is on your hands and you’re a murderer. Now, monster, tell me; is it fucking worth it? “