September 8, 2013

I used too much of too much tonight to really type quickly or get to the point. But I will try.

It was one of those nights. Where you know you’ve gone back into the ravine before you’re really there. You know it, as you grab your clothes. As you put on your make-up. As you grab your purse and check your cell phone -just in case. It’s gaping in front of you, but you deny it. Don’t even feel it, it’s not there. If you pretend it’s not there, it will be, and that’s ultimately what you want.

I have been applying for jobs and going to job interviews, like a good girl. But I’ll have to hear back from them. I’m waiting for the most brainless ones, so I can keep my free time for myself and go to my job without needing to give fucks. That’d be nice.
I want to wake up early-ish in the morning, go to a job that is entirely void of meaning, and go home at a given time, sag down on the couch like a potato and watch tv. That’s all I want, and need.

I wish I could die without the pain it would inflict on others. Just die inside so I can function sufficiently to keep everybody happy -my life goal/curse forever and ever- but not have to feel. Perfection. Is there anything that does tha- Oh, yeah.




September 8, 2013


For all my codependent fellows out there. I know how it feels. Tell me how I feel.


July 31, 2013

So we all went out to dinner for my best friend’s birthday. It was a lot of fun, and the food was so good. She loved the present I managed to put together for her, so I’m very happy. Didn’t have to heart to tell her that her actual present never made it, so I just kept my mouth shut. Normally I’ll see her in September, so I’ll give it to her then.

I get to work another 6 hours on Friday, not bad.

The only thing that brought me down tonight, were the questions. People asking me why I’m still with him, not understanding how I can forgive an “obvious gesture like this”. They meant of course that his not coming here somehow proved he didn’t care enough. I tried explaining how it’s the alcoholism talking there and not him, but they couldn’t quite grasp it. Not even when I showed them how their own boyfriends do the same thing with cocaine. They just have the luxury of having him in the same town, and not on the other side of the world. Message not received.

I’m exhausted. And I drank wine, probably a bottle, so I’m a little slow in the head. This is barely a buzz, but it feels like such a waste. I just wanted to drink so much more, but I have to save for when I’m out there in an unknown country. For all I know I’ll have to pay for my own ride to the house.

I feel a bit lost.


July 31, 2013

I had the weirdest dream. One of my primary school teachers was a creepy killer with unhealthy obsessions, and I was one of his. He’d follow me around, but since we live in the same village that didn’t strike me. He was about to act, in my dream, when suddenly I “saw” it.
Just in case that was a premonition, I’m writing it down.

My hair is a little better, but not good enough for a wedding. I don’t know what to do.

My man’s finally going home, that’s good. I still don’t know what time the wedding will be. Apparently neither does he. Isn’t that just damn great?

Tonight a bunch of friends and I are all having dinner for my best friend’s birthday. My boyfriend was actually supposed to bring me her gift, so I’ll have to buy her something else now since he couldn’t make it. I have no idea what to get her!! Stressing out about it.

I’m also running out of money, and don’t know when I’ll get to work next. This limbo life is getting tiresome.


July 30, 2013

My hair is not okay. It’s not okay at all. I wouldn’t dare leave the house with it the way it is now. Let alone get married. She assured me it would look nice after a couple of washes, so the hair “settles”. I’m extremely sensitive about my hair, when it’s not perfect I feel washed out.

This feels like a bad omen.

I’ll give it a couple of more days and see if it indeed settles, like she said. I feel nauseous thinking that it might not turn out alright. I’ll have to get it done again before the wedding, which will cost a fortune. Or I’ll have to shave my head. Those are seriously my only two options. At this point I don’t even care about having a Sinead-look.


July 30, 2013

Today I’m getting my hair done. For a wedding ceremony that scares the shit out of me.

As I went through my school books again, reading the parts about addiction, I suddenly got blind sided by a notion I had never considered: I will never be his true love. He met his true love at 12, when he first started drinking. Everything else, the dreamy, endearing romantic behavior, the amazing serenades of how much he loves me, that’s just the addict who wants something.

Like I thought, he’s been hanging around the people he met at AA in the vicinity of the airport. Is he planning on staying there until I land, procrastinating on coming home and facing the repercussions of what he’s done? If they’ll let him stay on their couch for that long, he probably will.

I partially wish that he would be forced to go home, and fall into the black pit that he dug for himself. A dark, evil and angry part of me wants him to be alone, and absolutely miserable. But I don’t, really, because he didn’t do anything, the disease did.

From my perspective, it feels like his love for me can never win. It can never be big or strong enough to beat his love for alcohol. But I’m looking at it wrong, aren’t I? He doesn’t love alcohol at all. Do wives of cancer patients feel “second” to their husband’s disease? Do they think his love wasn’t strong enough to fight away the tumor? No. Because the two are unrelated.
It must be exhausting for him to be misunderstood by everyone around him. They’re making him pay for a choice he never made. And by indulging in such thoughts, I contribute to that, and I don’t want to be that kind of wife. I never want to make him feel alone.

I hope and pray for strength to hold on to this line of thought, to think of it as cancer. I try to have faith that he does love me, he just shows it in weird ways. Seeing him again still scares me a bit, because I don’t know how much I’ll be sucked in and powerlessly co-dependent. It’ll be a battle to stay at a safe and healthy distance, for my and ultimately his sake.
I hope I haven’t been forsaken by whatever power it is that watches over me.


July 28, 2013

He’s off to a meeting, I’m alone in my room with my cat.

It’s almost 8 PM, I need to remember this. The day is almost over, it would be a waste to eat any more than I did. It’s only 2 and a half more hours before the house will go quiet entirely, and I will be victorious and wide awake. I can’t wait to leave this place. This burden. Nobody understands it, not even my boyfriend. My family seems so nice, so close. They have suffocated me so much I have wished I was dead for my entire teenage years, it seemed like the only way out.

I feel completely empty.