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Cloud_3
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Country: United States State: Vermont Metro: Rutland Area Birthday: 3/29/1983 Gender: Female
Interests: Trying to become who I believe I can be if only I had the motivation....if I only gave myself a chance...if only I was given a chance. Expertise: Arguing, sarcasm, sleeping, touching, being touched... sugar.
"never is a promise.... and you can't afford to lie" Occupation: Retired Industry: Hospitality
Message: message meEmail: email me Website: visit my website AIM: daedaesbaebae
Member Since:
4/20/2005
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| I don't know what to do. I know I just keep repeating that over and over... but its all that goes through my mind. With the exeption of "RUN. get out now. go home. you can't change this. you have other responsibilities to other sick people who didn't make the choice to make themselves the way they are. you have a responsibility to yourself, and this is driving me to the verge of suicidal." But I know I can't do that. I'm not the selfish one... I'm trying so hard not to be. The problem is that I think what I feel is selfish to do, is also the correct thing.
You know, before any of this happened, I warned him. I always say that I know him so well that I know what hes going to do before even he does. I do. And I warned him. I said you need to catch yourself. You are slipping... not getting to meetings, etc. And now he has no job either, I must add. He was SO proud of himself, he was doing wonderful. But then came an alnight coke and police stakeout *in his head anyhow* and he couldn't make it to work in the morning. I was up all night, since he had to be to work early, so that I could make sure he got up. But he didn't. When his job called, guess who had to lie? He never ended up calling back. Going back. Nothing. This is fucking wonderful. | | |
| Thanks Insanely Aloof... I'm not sure if that was sarcastic. At first I thought it might be. Now I'm not so sure. I think I am greatful for something to do. An assignment of sorts... Like the kind of homework you would get from an easy substitute teacher right at the beginging of school, in like 5th grade maybe?
Five (5) things I do when I'm bored... or more? Do I get extra credit for going the extra mile??? I need some extra credit to give my xanga grades a boost these days. I've been slacking on entries!
I never finished this because I thought that my post was lost... I don't remember why, but Xanga was being a bitch
1. I read. My primary excape. From my boring life, my anxieties, etc. 2. I pick. As in picking at dead skin, or scabs. Its terribly OCD. If I know I have something that I could pick, but I didn't get a chance to, it will honestly haunt me until I have gotten the job done. If I am anxious enough, and I don't have anything to pick... believe me, I'll find or make something. Feet are always good, as are my husbands pores. 3. Cosmetics. Body and bath products. One day I will be an aethetician. For now, I content myself with making up my friends when they want to go out, or if they need a makeover. I've got a pretty damn good rep amongst my small following. Hah. One day I will own a total body spa. Maybe. Maybe if the rest of my life doesn't keep up the way it has, if only I will ever have the strength to change it, if my husband can't change and keep it that way. 4. I worry. A whole fucking lot. To the point that I can give myself rashes and such if something big really gets me upset. 5. Sex. Thats always a good distraction from the worries, though, well... haven't had much of that to distract me since the husband fucked up. 6. Sleep. Almost as good as my books, with the exeption of the nights when my oh always so vivid dreams become nightmares. More like night terrors actually. I was up once the panic attack sets in mid sleep most of the time. | | |
| ...everything has gone rotten again. My perfect husband, well... his evil, evil twin is back. The coke fiend. I don't know what to do... I am completely beside myself. I must add that this is no ordinary man on coke. This is a coke head who becomes paranoid schizophrenic. He sees things that aren't there. Usually police, ready to bust in the doors at any minute, surrounding our home. He really sees them. He tries to convince me that he isn't losing by actually "showing" them to me. Not that they have ever even once been there. I don't know what to do. He always claims that hes done, for a good three days now thats what I've heard. My response is that he doesn't have the control to do that on his own, otherwise, had he the control, he never would have started it again to begin with. I am at my wits end. I can't deal with seeing someone I love so much on drugs and truly insane. I feel hopeless, and powerless. I don't know what I can do... All I know is that this stress is too much for me. I have too much other stuff to deal with. I mean, if you want to know how much this is fucking me up, heres a good example. When under extreme stress and worry I will end up with this vile rash. Not only is it itchy and burning, its on my fucking FACE. My lips and the surrounding area swell up bright red. It hurts so bad. I haven't had an occurance like this in a very long while now... I'm just so disapointed, SCARED (for him, for me, and for Andrew) that all of it just manifests its self into this horrid mess on my face, as if its the only way all of those feelings can find a way out and show the world how... how... desperately in need of some help to deal with this I am. I need to get back to CT, to Mom... but I don't know what to do about HIM. I know I can't let this get in the way, it was his choice to make... and I know already that there is nothing, short of getting him send in for a urine test at parole that will ease my fears, ASAP. Hes promised to call rehabs, but that never actually happens. Hes so sure that he can handle it himself, that is if he actually wants to stop. That is something I don't know and I doubt that he even does... I don't know, I could go on and on. I feel like my world, that I'm just getting back together as much as I could, has totally fallen to pieces. | | |
| me.
i haven't been keeping up much. i've been so tired, and well... now my husband has his own xanga... you'll notice him leaving me comments, if you want to see who it is, you'll have to guess. it shouldn't be difficult. heh. anyhow, with him posting every so often, and us living together and me not having much of a life right now (sooo tired...) well, ive sort of been leaving it up to him. but i think only one of you knows his name here... so that doesn't really help anyone else whos wondering if i am still alive does it? hmm... well, alive i am. i guess i just haven't had much to write about or much motivation lately. dave just started a job, so i figure i will have more time to myself to devote to this blog in the near future. maybe... just maybe i'll even have something interesting to write about. and if i'm really lucky it won't just be interesting, but it will be happy, too. ...not that anything is actually making me unhappy (aside from the obvious.. mom stuff)... im just very blah. | | |
| Well, its pouring rain. I hate to drive in the rain, because both of my accidents happened in them. At least I know that I will be driving as safely as possible today. Hah, no pot or alcohol like those other times. No way... Anyhow, I am still a little bit nervous. I have been putting it off waaay too long, so I'm just going to GO. Now... or very soon. I will update as soon as I am settled down there, even maybe get some commenting done! Wouldn't that be a suprise? I'm so terrible. I'm sorry people, I even read your blogs faithfully, I really do keep up. Its just that I never seem to have the time to do much more writing than my own these days. Wish me luck... though, "no break a legs please!" | | |
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