My Depression

My last post was back in July. I’ve been trying to get my life in some sort of order. It’s been hit or miss.

I found a bottle of pills the other day. Sleep aids, I had bought months ago and misplaced. I had every intention on taking the whole bottle with other medications just so I would not have to endure another year of living. I have a form of depression.

I have a few friends who read this, so I’ll say this to them, I have been in therapy for most of this year. I am doing better. I will never be okay. I have a form of depression where despite being happy or content, I will have in the back of my head that someone else could benefit from my death (organ donation). The best way to describe the feeling is when you think about what to have for a meal briefly or a song. It just sort of pops in and leaves. It only gets bad when I stress about things.

I’ve talked to my therapist about my stresses. I’ve discussed work, family, dating, friends with her. I’ve come to realize work is crazy and it’s nice to be able to discuss my thoughts and ideas with someone before I bring those issues up to my actual bosses. My therapist has helped guide me with how to approach my higher ups. With my family, I’ve come to realize that most of my upbringing issues are because my parents were children when they had my middle sister and I. They were in their early 20s! They didn’t know what the fuck they were doing. I’m in my mid 30s, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I can’t imagine being 20 and having two children. Mom had me at 18 and my sister at 23. Dad wasn’t much older, 22 and 27 I think. Once I came to that realization, everything else sort of fell in place. The irrational fits, the control issues. Children behave that way. Children without a good home behave that way. My parents did their best with the material they were given and they weren’t given much. Have I forgiven them? Yes and no. I still have panic and anxiety attacks whenever my dad gives me a dirty look. I dress a certain way or I mention drinking. I’m 33 and I am still scared shit-less of my dad’s look. I’ll be talking to my therapist about that. As far as dating goes…. I’m better off not doing that. There is a lack of men that I’m interested in on-line. I’ve attempted dating a few times. I think once viewing a penis gets you to the point of meh… it’s time to stop online dating. Seriously, for  awhile there I was receiving so many dick pics that I had lost all attraction to them. It was like going to a grocery store and picking up hot dogs. Like welp that’s a thing and clearly you’re proud of it. I’ve also come to realize that just because my friends are paired off and happy, doesn’t mean my life is lacking in any capacity because I’m not paired off. I can be just as happy single.




Wednesday Talk

I have been seeing my therapist for roughly a month, maybe two months. I’ve come to realize that I view myself as a background character in my own life. I would rather discuss other people, try to fix them then fix myself. This Wednesday I get to talk about what I want for me that does not include a significant other or other people. Just me.

I have no idea what to talk about.

I have thought I want the ability to accept the fact that I will not receive the apologies I feel I deserve.
I have thought I want to have financial stability and a place of my own.
I have thought that I want to continue having my current job and work as a coder to satisfy my career.
But all that seems trivial.

What I have wanted solely for myself for years has been my own passing.

I’m not sure how my therapist will help with this.


I’ve been seeing my therapist for roughly a month now.

I have not been put on medication. I am actually on a waiting list to be prescribed something. However, there’s a good chance I may not need medication. I feel better being able to talk to someone who is not biased towards individuals I am talking about. It’s nice to be able to say this about work is bothering me or this is what is bothering me about home or I can’t get my ex out of my mind and not be told ‘get over it’.

Thus far I have had three sessions. I have learned that I put others first, I find one or two things I like about a person and try to make myself fit them better, and that I should not assume people that I think are happy are happy.

I am starting to notice undesirable traits in former exes, aside from the fact that they’re exes. I am also starting to be more honest about why I liked (or loved) them as individuals.


Last week I had a consultation with a therapist from a local  mental health facility.

There is something wrong with me. I am not sure if it is depression or anxiety. All I know is that I wake up every morning with out fail wanting to be dead. I want to be dead because I feel my life has no meaning or purpose and others could benefit from the fact I am an organ donor. This has been happening for years. I am not at any risk because I do not have any plan set to end my own life. This is simply a thought I have every morning, like how some people think “Oh do I need to pack a lunch?”, “What time is that appointment today?” , “What should I make for dinner?”, etc.

Scary right? Of course it is. Does it make you, the reader, uncomfortable? Then you should stop reading.

In the brief meeting with my therapist, we discovered what could very well be the root of my issues.

Did you know it is a shit idea to have children ignore their bullies?
Did you know it’s a shit idea for the school system to give bullies simply 3 days of in school suspension for tormenting an innocent children?
Did you know it’s a shit idea to not try helping that child being bullied rebuild their confidence?

I was 12 or 13. I was in junior high, I know that much. There was a boy. He was popular. I was not. I was smarter than him. I lived in a trailer park. I should not have been smarter than him because of this, his logic. So for eight hours a day for a full school year, I was told by this boy that I was fat, ugly, and stupid.

He. Is. Responsible.

If I could find this boy now…. I would have choice words for him. Mostly I’d break his jaw.

He wound up getting three days worth of suspension and had to write an apology note. I did not get to keep the note. My parents did nothing to help rebuild my confidence.

I am not looking forward to discussing my parents in great detail with my therapist. I know they screwed up. I know they are trying to fix it now. But the fact remains is that THEY contributed to me needing to see a therapist. So there’s a bitterness towards them. I was hurting when I was younger. Where was the push for me to get help then?

I have already brought up two of my exes. Looking at you, Dan and Corey.
Dan because I thought he was the one (he even sobbed when he broke up with me that I was his best friend) and after two and a half years he leaves me because “when was the last time we enjoyed sex together”. So for all our mutual friends reading this, please know that’s the kind of person my ex Dan is. He couldn’t have discussed it a year into the relationship or sooner. No. He waited two and a half years.
Corey because well Corey is a fuck-up. A gorgeous gorgeous fuck-up. He cheated on me with his ex whom screamed she hated him and was a cutter.

Congratulations fellows. You two pushed me over the edge.



Recently, I have received advice on my dating situation. Namely don’t be a bitch. Ok so my friends worded it nicer.

Don’t publicly shame these guys. I’m sorry but after years of failed relationships because I was nice, patient, and ignored this gigantic character flaws, I’m going to start voicing my opinion on these guys publicly. Does it look tacky? Of course. I fully admit to that. However, so is sending me dick pic after dick pic when I’ve asked it be stopped. Hell, I would count that as sexual harassment. Would it be better if I filed a lawsuit against these individuals?

I have had a man suck his own dick and show to me on snap chat after I had continuously asked him not to. Prior to that he kept sending me semi nude photos for no reason what so ever, even after I asked him to refrain from it.

I have had a man through a fit because I would not hold his hand on the first date. That same man ended up being a terrible kisser at the end of the second date. How a simple peck equates slobber on half my face, I do not know. This same man ghosted me and made the ghosting seem like it was my fault for being so amazing (his words). He then proceed to get butt  hurt because I was on tinder and hadn’t swiped right to match with him. 1) I thought I had gotten rid of that account 2) He and I were not a couple, we had two dates. & 3) He still had all his dating profiles, which apparently was ok.

I have had a man constantly end every sentence with lol. I called him out on it being a nervous tick, which he admitted to. He also admitted that he did not like that I could read him that well. It’s not that I can read you that well, it’s that men like you are a dime a dozen here. He called me hostile because I responded to his texting.

Finally I have a man whose heart I have to break on Thursday. I do not have the patience to deal with someone with trust issues. Your roommate has already laid the seeds of distrust in your mind. I made status update saying “Dating is hard”. A friend of mine commented that she was afraid to go out there and try. As you can read from this entry so far, it is very very very easy to find dick. Which is what I told my friend. His roommate took that as I was just looking for a friend with benefit. Make sense? Because I does not to me.


I am beginning to wonder the point in dating.

I have tried OkCupid, Tindr, and Bagel Meets Coffee.

OkCupid I started talking to an individual named Anthony. I rarely am on my laptop anymore and the mobile app tends to be glitchy. I would respond and Anthony would leave me a novel of a response. I felt bad for not responding more promptly to him and because on paper he seemed like an interesting person, I gave him my FaceBook contact information. That was a mistake.

Anthony had never had a long term relationship. According to him, he had simply had a few flings or friends with benefits. He is 34. I noticed a trend in my status updates. Regardless of what I had posted, he liked. Every. Single. One. I had no access to who his friends were on FaceBook. And most unnerving of all he had a slew of plus-size alternative models that he friended. This made me think that perhaps, he was not interested in me as a person but me as a easier to obtain fantasy woman. I began to feel uneasy talking to him, so I told him that I only saw him as a casual friend and would not be mentally prepared to date until a year or so. His response was: “If you do want to pursue something in the future then let me know. Im kind of terrible at finding people to date. So I’ll probably still be single.” What kind of passive aggressive bull shit is that?

Tindr… oh Tindr…
Meet a wrestler who I met years earlier back when he was starting his training as a local one. In fact, I was dating my ex Josh at the time of our initial meeting. He’s a nice enough guy but he’s poly. Not my cup of tea but if I get the urge, we have an arrangement.
Meet a haunted house performer that works with my exes Corey and Josh. He’s cute, into horror movies, and a decent conversationalist. He’s also married and unhappily so at times but doesn’t want to break up his home. Mmm… and talking to single women on a dating ap (that’s geared towards one night stands) is going to help your marriage?

And now for the horror stories.

I had had a fun time messaging a man by the name of Lurch (not his real name, I can’t recall what that was), so we exchanged SnapChat names. I would try to have actual conversations with Lurch and I felt like I was speaking to a child who was preoccupied with Sesame Street. His snaps consisted of him being in stages of undressed. I asked him to not send me those, as I had no desire to see anymore dick pics. ((Oh good. A penis. Joy. She said deadpan and mono toned)). He would constantly ask me if I wanted to see him suck his own cock. I firmly said no each time. He finally sent me a video of him doing just that. I blocked him. Why the fuck are you on dating sites if you can suck your own dick?

There was a persistent horn dog on Tinder that I talked to. I’ll be posting photos from that conversation.

Finally there’s Timothy.

I meet him through Bagel meets Coffee. We went on one date. He spent most of the night reaching for my hand. First and foremost, I am not big on holding hands on the first date. I give hugs at the end but that’s about all the physical contact I give. He threw a fit when I wouldn’t hold his hand from across a table. He then unfriended me and ghosted me for  a week after. I thought nothing of our lack of conversation because my uncle had passed, but he explained to me that he had in fact ghosted me. Why? Because he didn’t think we were on the same page dating wise and touch is very big for him. I told him that his behavior was not very mature for a man with children. That what he did showed me absolutely no respect what-so-ever. That despite my appearance, I was not as disrespectful or immature as would be thought. I decided to go on another date with him to confirm my feelings of eh towards him.
We went to a beer and sausage tasting. I held his hand and not begrudgingly so. I was actually trying to relax and give this man a chance. The date went lovely until the end. I went to give him a simple kiss. Nothing fancy, the kind of peck you give your grandmother. He slobbered on half my face and grabbed every piece of soft flesh he could.
Considering his fit with hand holding and his aggressiveness with kissing, my thoughts of him putting me in a situation I did not want caused me to finally say enough.




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Recently, I had some boudoir photos taken of myself. Why? Because at 32 I should love my body. I have a few of the photos posted on my Facebook page. The ones not posted on my page are shared between myself and the photographer.

I was shocked by the overall support I received from my friends, co-workers, and family (minus my father, he has not nor will he see them). In fact one of the photos I absolutely loathe, was one of my more adored photos. This leads me to believe that I maybe a harsher critic to myself than I realized. The best compliment I received was from a co-worker, she said I looked like Demi Moore. I don’t know about that, but it’s a sweet compliment. This is the same co-worker that says I sound like Joan Cusack. Ha! That one actually holds some merit. I’ve had a few people say I sound like her. And now you’re reading this in her voice.

The only compliment I become upset with was from a friend. He said “I like this one because it seems more like you because you’re smiling.” Gently put, I never fucking smile. How is that more like me? Huh? The guy rubs me the wrong way and I cannot put my finger on it. I deal with him in small small doses because of this.

I’m having more boudoir photos taken in 14 days. This time will be different. It’ll be truer to me, mixed match underwear. I may see if the photographer has room for a hula hoop. I can strip and hoop at the same time. It’s not a talent anyone is aware of or has seen yet. And who doesn’t want to see photos of a woman stripping to her underwear while hula hooping?



I have had a habit since my ex Dan of attracting weak men. Perhaps, he was one too. Who am I kidding? He was.

My issue is not with Daniel, it is and it is not. I am getting very tired of men I am interested in lamenting the lost of their former relationship, while I am told to get over my lost.

“I know she loves me, she’s just not being herself” I have had two men say that verbatim. One was a former lover, Corey, and the other was a buddy/former lover of mine, Brad. I cringed when Brad uttered those words.

“I just want my life back” Again I have had two men utter those words, Corey and Jonathan. Well guess what doll faces?


Your life simply changed and even if you had remained with your exes your life still would have changed in some fashion. Marriage is change. Getting a new job is change. Having children is change. When your exes broke up with you, you did not lose your life. You lost what was comfortable for you.

You don’t think I miss Dan? Yes and yes. You don’t think I miss Corey? Yes and fucking yes.

I was told to move on though. Why can’t the men I attract do the same? I have gone out of my way to avoid both Dan and Corey.

I was in love with Dan for 2.5 years. I unfriended him on Facebook, lost his number, and have considered blocking him and his vapid stupid perky goth girlfriend. I stopped going to D&D with my friends because of Dan. Do I still love him? Fuck yes I do and I can’t change that but I can distance myself so I forget.

And as far as Corey is concerned… well we haven’t spoken since I called him a weak ass little bitch for getting into a relationship right after he announced he cheated on me. “These things just happen, you have to let go. I’m happier now”

MMMMMmmmmm no ya ain’t. You look constipated in all your couples photos, Core, but hey you’re an FX artist. Illusions are your thing.



Where do I begin?

The amount of individuals in my area claiming to be poly is alarming. It has gotten to the point where I will settle on a low intelligence, hideous golem of a man, so long as he is monogamous. I will settle for sub-par in order to get the monogamy I desire. How incredibly fucked up is that?

Last weekend I had an individual belittle me so much because I refused to show him my vagina. He thought I was transgender. I wound up showing him. I still feel used and dirty from it. That was a kick in myself esteem.
Allow me to explain why. Growing up I was always the fat chick. Hell, I still think of myself as fat and undesirable. I was constantly told I look like my father. My father is a large man, whom you cannot mistake for being anything but a man. Whenever he and my mother would gender swipe couples costumes for Halloween, I was the basis for the size my father should wear. Yeah, it fucked me up bad. No pre-teen should ever have to deal with that. So for a stranger to assume that I was at one point a male upsets me greatly.

I’m not sure what to do anymore. I’m a freak for wanting monogamy. I’m a freak for being single in my mid 30s.