When You Are Surrounded By Madness...

"Your love isn't fair
You live in a world
Where you didn't listen
And you didn't care"

Anastacia


This blog doesn't tell me to shut up.

This blog doesn't think I'm fucked up in the head.

This blog gives a shit about the person who writes it; in fact- so do most people, except for my Hubby.

So why do I take drugs you ask? So it doesn't hurt so much when you roll your eyes at the things I say. How can I be calm when you are accusing me of being a fucked person? That's what you're trying to tell me isn't it?

The truth is you just don't love me. I don't know why. You are one of the few people who know me and one of the only ones who don't like who I am. You hate the best parts of me.

You hate my thoughts; you rubbish my mind- make fun of it because I don't know why. You want me to be alone and friendless and in this house again. I don't know why you have thought I've gotten worse instead of improving. The truth is you know I'm not the same as I was last year and that frightens you.

I have changed. I don't sleep all day anymore; not All the time anyway. I'm happier than I have been in ages; You are the about the only thing that depresses me. I guess I like to get high because you are constantly bringing me down. And you can't even see that you are doing it which frustrates and angers and saddens me to the point of erraticness. It's like you orchestrate and manipulate my feelings for no other reason than to cause an argument.

Yeah, so I had a shitty day and didn't want to hear about your secretary's tits- I'm sorry about that-really. But what I can't deal with is your attitude.

The truth is that our problems are too big for the two of us to work out on our own. But you won't admit you're to blame for any of it- this mess that we call our 'marriage'. I didn't eat dinner with you because fighting with you spoils my appetite. It shouldn't be that big a concern for someone who is so adamant that they don't even care.

Possessive people generally don't.

What's the go with trying to bait me into that argument we just had? How could I just ignore the crap you tried to palm off to me as truth? You can't tell me that you know what I'm thinking about- you've never bothered to find out.

You think drugs are constantly on my mind? You couldn't be further away from the truth if you'd hitchhiked in the opposite direction. Yeah so- I organised the drugs this time- you can do it next time. There doesn't even HAVE to be a next time; but why not when we BOTH enjoy them so much?

Is the house not cleaner than it's ever been before? Don't my eyebrows look improved now that they are no longer knitted together? Aren't you glad my teeth aren't yellow anymore and I have some pride in myself again?

Okay; so I almost burnt the house down but look at the improvements since then. I'm not a deadshit, Hubby; I wrote two books that you won't ever read but that doesn't mean that they are worthless or crap. If it wasn't the drugs it would be something else to pick on me for. Trust me; I am far from deluded when it comes to myself- I am my own specialty subject. This morning a skin cancer doctor took a biopsy off my tit and you didn't even ask me if I'm okay thinking I might have cancer and won't even find out for at least a week.

If you're determined to be a cunt then I guess you'll find a way no matter what I do or say. You want me to do AA or NA or some other fucking course you can wait till the New Year and you're fucking coming with me- unless you like being called a hypocrite. If I'm a pill-freak then so are you clever one.

Who -or what- is coming home tomorrow? The nice you or the arsehole who judges me as fucked in every possible way that a person can be fucked? Who made you the fucking King? I can't even be myself around you anymore because you don't even like who I am.

Let me guess; you won't remember our conversation tonight. You won't see it from my perspective or even hear it. You're incapable of listening- let alone letting me finish a simple sentence. Does that annoy me? You bet the fuck it does. I hate trying to sort out our mess with no help from you. There's too much shit for us to handle. We need help but you don't want it. Nothing's your fault- it's all my problem. Well Sorry Sorry Sorry and then Go and Get Fucked.

Even your co-workers- people you have never introduced me to- know how good you have it. I know that's why you keep me around; there's no other discernable reason because you certainly don't love me very much-if at all. Did you ever? Is our whole life together just been one sick lie? If you don't think I'm worth the bother then why the fuck do you?

What's in it for you to live with some drug-fucked mental bitch that you don't even care about?

If that's all I really am to you then we both know what we should be doing. And the truth is that Both of us drink too much and take too many drugs.

I can't even cry for Us anymore.

I want you to know, though, that you are wrong about me- even if you never even learn it- because you don't know me. You never will. We'll go out tomorrow because you'll forget your own promises like always. And I wasn't joking when I said you are partly responsible for me being this way.

It's hard not to become mental when you are surrounded by madness.

I don't keep the house clean so that you will buy me more drugs. I'm not like you and I never have been. I can't help who I am and I won't apologise for being myself. I'm not the only person in this world who left the Christmas shopping for the kids until the last minute either, and just for the record I'm going to be thinking long and hard over the next few days whether or not our relationship is even worth fighting for when we are obviously so very different.