Ah, the life of a reject.

There are days when the truth smacks you in the face and there is no way to pretend it’s not there. Today is one of those days for me.

I have tried not to lie to myself, even though I continually lie to others. Everyday, I reach out to people, make jokes, stay friendly, but at the end of each day, it’s no different from the day before. More often than not, I acknowledge the fact that I’m only spoken to when I initiate conversation, but today, it’s hitting me kinda hard.

Once again, I’m thrown aside, as the reject that I am. Today, I wonder if I were to die, if anyone would really care. Oh yeah, no doubt people would come and say “hey, she was kinda funny,” and then they would move on, not actually feeling any true loss. And that is beyond depressing. So I sit on my bedroom floor, trying to hide and shrink into the nothing that is my existence. Hating the world, and hating myself.

Cold from the outside in… Freezing from the inside out…


Random thoughts…

In my first post, I mentioned that when I was in school, I didn’t really know how to behave since my mother always told me what to do and what to say. I started to copy what others around me were doing. This behavior has followed me into adulthood. I never considered doing anything like this until I found out that someone I know does this. I’ve read her stuff and found it to be very enlightening.

After much thought and consideration, I came to the conclusion that I lack my own identity. How pathetic to be, or attempt to be, everyone else around me, never getting it quite right. I think the part has been played well since no one has ever called me on it. I’ll take it as a compliment to my acting skills. It’s not that I don’t know this, I did take an intro to psychology course in college. Freud would have a field day with me.

If I see someone fall, I look at it (the fall) as an observer might look at stars through a telescope, out of reach to control. I hope that makes some sense. Anyway, it wasn’t until people around be began to behave and comment “OMG, are you okay? Let me help you!!” that I realized my behavior was inappropriate. Normal people help other people, they don’t just watch.

It took time, but I began to think things through for myself. Actually, that’s an untrue statement. I came across people whom I thought were really amazing, with many friends, and wanted to be just like them. So I began to mimic their behaviors. (Did I mention this blog came about because a friend of mine had one?)

I don’t have many friends because I don’t have the social skills to be charismatic and captivating, but I do appreciate the ones I have. They are, as Simi would say, “quality people.”

Another bipolar swing… Sigh…

What you think about, you bring about. I’ve heard it from different people in different ways. It always leads to the same thing, focus on good things so you get more of those good things. I don’t know if I believe it but at least there’s no harm in trying it.

Took a trip to mother’s today. I saw her laying there in her bed and felt shame over what I’ve typed here. She isn’t evil, just not what I think a warm and loving mother should be. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t post lies. She is manipulative and verbally abusive but she did the best she could with what she had.

The woman who gave me life didn’t give me hugs but did help me get through four years of college. She didn’t give me the best toys a kid could have but she kept me fed and clothed. A friend of mine (who has heard stories of my experiences) tells me that, had she experienced what I did, she would never speak to Mother again. And there are moments when I don’t want to see her but…

She did the best she could with what she had and, at the end of the day, my childhood was a lot better than some. So I’ll quit bitching and appreciate what I had. It lead me to be the person I am today.

And, for the most part, I’m very happy.


It has been about 17 years since my father passed away. When I got the phone call, it was a bit of a shock. It was a sudden heart attack. The first and only.

When it happened, he and my mother had been on an extended vacation. They had been there for close to a year. It might be difficult to understand, but I had been familiar with the distance so it wasn’t very difficult for me after he was gone. The physical distance was just permanent.

Even so, the idea of the man I called Father being trapped in a box was daunting for me. My father was full of life. He would yell at soccer games, laugh at movies, enjoy his wine at dinner. I couldn’t imagine him in a little box. I didn’t want to.

It was such a relief when I finally saw him in a coffin. That man may look like my father, but my father wasn’t there. The passionate man I knew was gone. This “thing” could go into the ground. I was happy knowing that my father, his essence, his life, wouldn’t be trapped in a box.

Today, I am faced with another loss. People who aren’t animal lovers will not understand what this is about, but for those who are, you will share my pain.

My purebred Himalayan of 18 years has decided he’s had enough and wants to rest. Really, who can blame him? As a purebred, he was expected to rest after 14, maybe 15 years. He is a tenacious fellow and quite stubborn.

About a month ago, I found blood right under his mouth, so I took him to the vet who said that he was experiencing kidney failure. So I have cried more for my cat in this past month than I did when my father passed.

Shadow Cat has lived with me since he was a kitten. He has scratched me, stolen my pillow, woken me up for a pet, puked on my floor so I could step in it, has insisted on walking all over me as I try to sleep, jumped on my lap as I watched tv, has rubbed his little head into my hands insisting on attention, has given me companionship when I was lonely, but most of all, has loved me unconditionally. I love him far more than I ever expected to.

And as I see him wither away (he has stopped eating and drinking) a sense of loss and sadness washes over me. I want his pain to stop but can’t bring myself to kill him. For two weeks, I have watched his deterioration continue. Now, he can’t even lift his head. He doesn’t have enough strength for anything. Barely to breathe.

Today, I have decided to end his suffering. I haven’t made the call yet but I have decided that I need to. I will play God and end his life. In my head, I tell myself that I’m doing it to end his pain but I wonder if I’m not doing it to end my own instead.

I hate seeing him like this. I told myself I could just keep him company until he passed but he’s not passing quickly enough for me.

Have you ever seen a cat who can’t purr? Can’t meow? It’s really one of the saddest thing on the planet. He opens his mouth, even while his eyes are closed, and nothing comes out.

His body is stiff. If I didn’t see his fur going up and down with each breath, I would have said he had already passed. And his breath, ugh, it smells like death.

So, today, I will be a cruel bitch and have my cat assassinated. I will watch as they give him something which will make his heart stop. Make him take his last breath.

And the one creature who would have given me comfort will cease to exist.

Downward spiral…

…into the deepest level of hell…

Well, it was nice while it lasted. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. My beautiful peace has departed and left me worse than when I was taking the evil pills. Now, I’m swimming in a sea of estrogen since I’ve started the estrace and the tears have started.

I’m fully aware that it’s all drug induced. But doesn’t make things any easier…

Finally almost myself again…

The last evil pill was finally taken on Thanksgiving.  My emotions are beginning to settle down again, thank God.  The world is actually a decent place to be right now. …don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll change soon…

It’s for a good cause, to help a family grow by giving them a child of their own. It’s an amazing journey, and even though it makes me emotionally nuts, well worth it in the end.

This is my third family. Having done it twice before, I know what it involves. Even so, it’s so difficult to control emotions.  Like I’ve posted before, it’s like seeing the train coming and having your feet stuck on the tracks, wanting to jump but unable to do anything but watch the chaos emerge.

The transfer is tentatively scheduled for December 15th.  I’m really excited as it gets closer and closer.  I think the parents are playing it safe and are being cautiously optimistic.  They’ve done this before, without success.  But that’s because they hadn’t worked with me.  😉

I have a good feeling about this and will remain positive.  🙂

People: Understanding vs Revenge

So.  There’s this girl.  And I want to beat her. With a baseball bat. Is that wrong? I haven’t done it. But I want to.  Since I don’t want to end up in jail, having to be Bobbette’s girlfriend, I’ll try to control myself.  With a name like Bobbette, she can’t be pretty.

It’s true that this “girl” has a hard home life. Her boyfriend isn’t top-quality-people and I think he’s hit her at least once/twice.  She has no control at home.  So she goes to work and is a complete bitch to her coworkers.  Oh, she does it sneaky like, behind people’s back, but she does it.  She does whatever she can so the “light shines on her” from her superiors.  She has “brilliant” ideas and is constantly “looking to improve processes, procedures, etc.”  She’s constantly smiling and whenever things go wrong, it was a “mistake,” completely “innocent.”  She loves gossip and so is “friendly” to everyone.  She smiles and confides things.  To everyone.

And then proceeds to lock things up to piss people off.  She turns equipment off just to irritate.  She’s even gone so far as to buy a toy that beeps–for the sole purpose of bugging those around her.  Is it me or is this a little childish?

How do I know these things are being done on purpose?  Because she’s told me.  Other’s have told me.  “Oh, she did that to piss so-n-so off.”  Today, she locked a computer up before she left for the day.  “Oh, she did that on purpose to piss someone off.  I don’t know who, though.”  I’m thinking it was a present for me since I was the only other person working on it today.

Some folks believe in signs, others do not.  I’m a scorpio.  According to (http://www.astrology-online.com/scorpio.htm) scorpio tendencies include

sensitivity, together with a propensity for extreme likes and dislikes make them easily hurt,

quick to detect insult or injury to themselves and easily aroused to ferocious anger…

are not above expressing vindictiveness in deliberate cruelty
I am aware of these tendencies.  And, believe it or not, do try to be a better human being.  I try to think of things as learning lessons which allow me to grow into a better human being, for my own benefit and for the benefit of those around me.
Which brings me to my moral quandary:
  • a) be a better person and walk away
  • b) challenge her on it
  • c) beat her with a baseball bat
  • d) run her over with a bus
  • e) be just as sneaky and do simple things to piss her off, as well (like change her radio station.  She has a note on it asking people to not change it.  It would be something she would do!)


I know that a) and b) would be the better choices.  Logically, I am aware.  Deep within me, I want to do c) and d).  But since I can be vindictive, I’m inclined to do e).

Perhaps by the end of the weekend, I’ll have talked myself into option a).

Happy Thanksgiving.

(Just as an FYI, I did do a search for Bobbettes out there, wondering if any Bobbettes reading this would be offended that I said they wouldn’t be pretty.  I couldn’t find any.  Even when I tell myself that I’m NOT going to censor myself here, that I’m going to say it, whatever IT is: good, bad or ugly, I still don’t want to offend.  …sigh…)

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