I’d like to know where all of my visitors are coming from.
Seriously.
I know the three or four same people who leave me comments every now and then aren’t racking up those hits.
Now, I know I’ve never whore’d for comments before, but if you read my stuff regularly, it would be nice if you left some evidence. I’m just saying, I’ve had this thing for nearly a year, and it appears no one really cared about what I had to say until September of last year. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, you guys.
Also, I’d like everyone to know that I’m once again assuming cocoon mode. I’ve actually got this bet riding on me, concerning whether or not I can find a boyfriend in four month’s time.
It’s not going to happen.
I’m not putting myself down; I’m saying that I don’t want one.
Here’s the stigma. I’ve been single for 19 years. You know, part of me is proud of that. I can say with confidence that I know what it is that I want. I’ve only ever been a pawn when it comes to potential relationships, but I’ve learned some things:
People want everything for nothing.
Things that you can see but can’t touch are always more attractive.
Things that there are less of are always more tempting to own.
I’m going to talk a little about my past, because I realize some of you guys may have missed a few things.
I moved halfway through 5th grade. I was the only girl in my neighborhood. Until the end of grade school, I was the victim of name calling and tomboy jokes.
In 7th grade, for some reason, my sexuality was questionable as far as most people were concerned. This is around the time I started taking medication for depression.
In 8th grade, several girls became friends with me only because those boys in my neighborhood were suddenly good-looking. There was also talking done behind my back within another group of girls because of my increasing friendship with a certain boy, which painfully extinguished the friendship into nothingness over the course of five years.
In 9th grade, I was frequently self-destructive and hospitalized because of it. This is when the combining of different pills sent me down a path of withdrawals and awful side effects. I developed a hair pulling disorder and I went the rest of high school without eyebrows, a good chunk of my eyelashes, and occasionally patches of the hair on my head. Last summer, I was actually denied insurance because of this.
Things that happened in and around 10th, 11th, and 12th grade would include the failing of many classes, my mom calling the cops on me when I wouldn’t want to go to school, my quitting ice skating because the depressants made it strenuous on my heart, panic attacks nearly every day, people looking at me weird in the hallways because, I mean, I weighed 200 lbs and didn’t have eyebrows…..
So, to anyone who has ever wished bad things for me out of jealousy…I feel bad. I feel bad that you were jealous of that. Anyone who ever treated me badly in those years and expects my sympathy or friendship now that I’ve got my shit together, that’s too bad. I’m sorry you never got to know me, because I will go ten extra miles for the people I care about, and it’s the people that I think about on a regular day that I care about. If you don’t find yourself thinking of me on a regular day, then you probably don’t really care about me, and that’s alright.
I know I’m not the person I was back then. I know this because there have been multiple times I could have easily just fallen back into that state, and I didn’t.
I’m starting over now.
