Nothing’s ever going to stop is it? It’ll only change for the worse. I am an awful mix of my terrible parents’ traits. I’m the fucking goddamn definition of an outcast. Why? Because an outcast is someone who has NO place, with anyone. Losers tend to have each other, same goes for the wonderful peopleand the vapid human garbage. But me? I literally fit in NOWHERE. Even among people you’d THINK I have a lot in common with. Even at grad school. Even at work. Even in the million Twitter writer groups I’m in or follow.
Worried the crazy will never stop.
Worried what will happen if it does. When it does.
The only thing I care about is my writing. I mean really. I know that disappoints God and all, but idk, He made me like this, did He not? See the way I fucking see it, is if God exists, He’s GOT to be understanding, the forgiving part HAS to be more true than the vengeful part. Of like mental illness and the lasting effects of abuse, and like, all of it. He’s GOT to see that like….some people are poisoned, against Him, by those who profess to be of God…but…I think we all know the truth there. He’s GOT to see how hard it is, how it feels like some ancient inculcated part of my childhood that I need to do away with, in part, because I had to do that with so much else of that time in my life. I married another Christian, but we’re both lazy and apathetic about doing anything that would “qualify” if you will. We tried finding a church when we first moved down here, none of them appealed, at all. But at the same time…I just end up envying atheists, so fucking sure of themselves. I’m not hating. Each to their own, you can’t make anyone freaking believe against their will, that’s literally an insane thing to try and do. I get there’s brainwashing, but like…what kind of person tries to gaslight another person? People like W of course.
Jealousy and anger are human emotions. Emotions which God, in two forms, is given to show in the Bible. I always thought that was peculiar. No real reason why, I just never mentioned it to anyone before.
This isn’t an easy topic. Is religion ever? But like…I don’t say this seriously, but sometimes it’s hard to be white and Christian because you’re like….oh…..shit, let me apologize for the millions of moments of anguish those two things have caused….my bad…if it helps I grew up in a hyper abusive and chaotic and lonely situation –despite seeming like your average lower middle class nuclear family of four for the most part – and I can assure you that cancels out whatever advantages you might think I had. I’ve just never suffered due to my race. I get that. Anyway.
When I talk about this with my husband, we discuss how the concept of hell is kind of hard to wrap one’s head around. Like, really, eternal constant horrendous suffering and damnation unless you follow a set of ten impossible rules? Because one of his non-sentient beings who still somehow staged a revolt (never quite understood that one) got pissed and transferred schools and took a lot of his friends with him? Also something about how he’s hot and they’re all hot and they’re also really attracted to humans and into music? Literally 13 years of Lutheran schooling and this is what I think of.
But even not minding all that, you have to believe in something.
I’ve never met a true atheist.
R claimed to be one. He was really into freemasonry. Which I always thought was stupid and weird, personally. W’s parents both loved being in that organization. The women are in a separate group called Daughters of the Nile, but it’s the same weird shit. I have a Mason’s necklace, it’s a white enamel heart with the Masons star in the center on a shitty brass chain. It was W’s mother’s, I would imagine. I took it from their cottage one of the few timeswe stayed there during my childhood. Before super petty W broke allties with his older sisters, who owned the cottage. He changed our phone number. Who does that? At one point the middle sister’s husband called W at work, he went to the trouble to find out where he worked, somehow, and W had the pleasure of getting to say, in response to being asked what had to be done to get the families back together,“Go back and make Cassie and her brother’s childhood involve their aunt and uncle and cousins.” As if it were somehow THEIR fault for what he did. Then he had to be fucking adorable and add, “I’m a[Cassie’s real last name] not a [aunt’s husband’s last name]”Because my father’s family is known, from generation to generation, since the limey fuckers first got to America in the beginning part ofthe nineteenth century, for feuding and breaking off entirely from one another. I mean, LOOK AT WHAT I DID. It’s like I was genetically predisposed. It’s easily traceable because the last name kept changing spellings ever so slightly. Started out in Pennsylvania, fought for the Union, spread throughout the Midwest. German people like Indiana and states near it because they’re similar to Germany in a lot of ways, terrain and weather wise.
I saw younger aunt at older aunt’s funeral. She looked me up and down(I’m like a foot taller than her) and said, “Oh, Cassie, we missed out on you growing up.”
WHAT THE SWEET FUCKING SHIT is the response one should have to that?????? Like it’s MY fault? Ugh.
The thing is.
Knowing W, and what he’s like.
It makes sense that his still living cunt sister (named Mary Lou, why do I hide these things? Like it goddamn matters and anyone cares?) is a hugely evil weird psycho cunt. I mean. I can’t really fathom what sort of parenting duo it took to create W…but….I can….I can only imagine….
If only he’d talk to a therapist
But he won’t. Trust me. We all know it. We talked about it all the time. He’s one of those sorts who’s better off dead. Same for my brother. Unless she’s freed of them soon, same for my mom too.
We aren’t supposed to say or think these dark things. But they’re there, lurking like bats in a cave.
I stopped using that frightening barn analogy for my psyche. Isn’t that exciting? I didn’t notice that it’d happened, until an abstractnotion made me remember that I hadn’t thought about that barn inyears. When I used to every single day. Interesting.
Anyone else wear themselves out so they’re too busy getting fucked up to be pissed about shit?
I for one am sick of a bunch of stuff. But what does one do? Give up? THAT’S WHAT THEY WANT ME TO DO. SO NO. FUCK everyone, I didn’t like anyone in the first place, so what the fuck does it matter if everyone keeps hating me? Or just straight doesn’t give a fuck.
I started a FetLife account. But, again, the same listless sexual ennui.
My fuck I love that word.
SO back to my story about R.
He CLAIMED he was not religious, at all, only spiritual (which equated to him liking to burn sage and owning a tarot deck). Fuck. Now that I think about him, I realized that right now, a cold, dark Fridaynight, I would have been with him right now. I’d drive to his house after working 6-4. I’d get there about this time, leaving my husband to whatever. We sit and talk in his all dark except for the computer and TV screen bedroom, in his dad’s house on the water, then we’d venture out to buy food and beer/booze and possibly rent movies. I think one time we went for ice cream. Another time we went to a Target together and bought our own 2DS, and I bought Omega Ruby and he bought Alpha Sapphire and we played those games together. But by the time Sun and Moon came out, we weren’t together. R was the first break up I was happy for. Care for him as I did.
That last weekend with him, which just totally cemented how done I was, that second night, the LAST night I ever saw him…let me take you through what happened.
We had the whole weekend together. My husband was out of town. He’d already been an annoying drunken mess at a sushi place the night before (Friday). So Saturday I drive to his place to pick him up and what I don’t know is that he’s already shitfaced when I get there. With seasoned alcoholics it’s not easy to tell sometimes.
We go to a downtown area near his dad’s house, and we’re INSIDE the BDubs when he decides he doesn’t want to eat there because it’s “too loud”, so we leave, even though I’d just fed the meter a ton of change….he’s an ASS more than once for the drive back. We end up going to an overrated overpriced bar and grill place near his dad’s house. It’s there that I begin to see that he’s on his second day of a bender, which he started the night before at a sushi place in another town. He gets increasingly disrespectful and brazenly drunk in public (despite having amassed two DUIs in the time we were dating) as the dinner progresses. He did his usual of eating at lightning speed then rushing me out of finishing my food (I eat really slowly, I can’t help it, it’s a weird jaw thing with chewing) THEN he gave me a weird amount of shit when I told him to tip $16, because that was like 15% of our bill. He freaked out, like kept being like, “Sixteen dollars?” Like I’d suggested we leave her the moon. DON’T ASK ME WHAT TO TIP, THEN.
THEN as if that wasn’t bad enough, out of the fucking blue at the restaurant he asks, “Did you have a church wedding?”
I said yes. Because it was the truth. He knew that. He was invited and RSVP’ed with a date but then didn’t go. Again, should’ve seen warning signs but didn’t because I was SUPER attracted to this guy. Not anymore. If I have bad memories of someone it just DESTROYS my pussy. Just dries it the fuck out, and that’s actually saying something.
“OH, so then I’m the fornicator.”
Okay, for someone who has always CLAIMED to not give a fuck about religion, especially Christianity, he seems real worried that I was religiously married then violated my wedding vows with him. Though to be fair our vows didn’t mention not fucking other people, like that traditional “forsaking all others” shit.
He only said his most cringe things while REALLY drunk.
One time we were wasted and smoking weed in the garage right on the canal and he told me he loved me twice, so I said it back to shut him the fuck up. It never came up again, he never said it again. I mean, he didn’t need to. But again, there were many ways he was lacking that I wouldn’t have tolerated in an actual relationship. Side action boyfriend is different.
Another time, again SUPER FUCKING DRUNK, we’re woken up on a Sunday and finished off the beers from the night before, then went out for lunch at a bar near his dad’s. He was so drunk he threw up all over the bathroom. We went to a bait and tackle shop after and he bought a fishing rod to replace the one he’d thrown into the lake this one REALLY awful night that I’ll talk about later.
On the way to drop him off at home and then drive home myself (It was 5pm on a Sunday by this point) he’s riding shotgun in my car and looks at me and says, “Sometimes, I wish you weren’t married.”
I was in NO MOOD for this shit, right then. So I said, “HA, yeah, me either.”
Then he said, in typical R fashion, “But whatever.”
Becausehe had a definite “Fuck it” attitude towards everything. I say that as judgmentally as possible, not in an admiring way.
So, idk, the people I know who claim to be free to belief seem to think about them a lot.
I have nothing else to offer at this time.
My drinking lately has been worrying me. I haven’t been doing anything bad or badly, but it’s been excessive. I’ve done 3 tall cans everynight this week. Right now I’m on my third 16oz. Yikes. What IS one to do?
N has like a recently acquired alcohol allergy. I’m jealous. Like incredibly so. I don’t think I envy anything more. Like…a physical inability to process alcohol….DON’T suggest thosepills that make you heave if you drink, those have been shown to not be strong enough to actually deter anyone. You just drink anyway and feel like utter shit.
So. That last weekend with R. So that happens at the restaurant and I drive us back to his dad’s. He’s actually more forthright about wanting sex than he usually was. The sex was good, but SO on histerms. He blamed his “fickle sex drive” AKA SUUUUPER selfish when it came to that, AND oral. OMG. Like my husband is so into that shit I’m really judgmental when a guy isn’t. I dated R for 8 months, he went down on me once. FUCKING OUTRAGEOUS IF youconsider juuuuust how much oral this guy expected to receive. Like, constant. Omg. Hated that. Anyway.
So when we’re having sex for the very last time, it’s REALLY fast. No condom, per usual, but then he comes inside me, really unapologetically. Then literally falls asleep on top of me.
The next morning, I left while he was still sleeping.
And that’s the last time I saw him. I’d had enough.
You feel bad saying your life is better for NOT having someone in it, but it happens.
I’m SO DRUNK.
I need to grocery shop.
I painted my nails.
I’m always broke
but I’m writing
of a novel
I’ll show you
Don’t fucking worry