Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers

i'm not happy

i'm listening to Kosheen to try to improve my mood.

doc gave me this big lecture on how he was going to get things done today and not be lazy. i just went out to ask him if we could go to storage (i'm getting desperate for something to read) real quick before the monsoon moves in. he had three hundred excuses, ending with, "i'm going to sleep". so much for getting things done. fucker.

"if you were in my heart
i'd surely not break you
if you were in my heart
then my love would take you
i'd keep you in safety
forever protect you
i'll hide you away from
the world you rejected"

i'm just generally mad at doc. every tie i leave this room, he hassles me about something. meds, food, sugar, mood, rocking. why am i getting worse, he wants to know. he won't do any research on the subject, he just wants me to come up with the answers, which he won't believe anyway. that, along with a couple things that have happened lately have me thinking about leaving him. but i'm going to try to stay in the house. i'm just going to spend a lot more time in my room. with the laptop. the network cable doesn't reach, but i can deal with that. just go into the hallway and hook up to download or upload. i figure if i avoid him, i won't do anything drastic. i've never felt this malice against another human being that was so close to me. usually when i get to this point, the target is long gone.

then he tells me he wants to invite B over and can i camp out in my room. i'm not happy about it, this is my house too. but i do it. set up camp in here . . . then he tells me he's not inviting B over.


i think i'll light some incense. maybe i'll hook up the tv and stereo. if i do that, maybe doc will get off his ass and have the cable company come and fix what is broken and has been for a year, and hook up cable in my room. i have this huge tv and it is just sitting there, waiting for some love. and i have a stereo to hook up so i can listen to CDs. and maybe the radio. i haven't listened to the radio for years. i'm kind of curious what the kids are listening to these days.

then doc comes in and talks to me like everything is normal. nothing is further from the truth.

he says i got crazier when i went off the seroquel. he wants me to go back on the seroquel. it made me sleep all day and get fat, i'm not going back on it. so now it's all about, don't rock back and forth and don't shake my legs STOP IT. all i do is to frustrate him. it has nothing to do with me. it's all about him and the malice i supposedly have. i leave coffee grounds in the sink, it's to make his life difficult. and doing something by accident is the same as doing it on purpose to him. there is no forgiveness.

stop it i'm trying to talk to you and you're giving me vertigo
why do you rock, you never used to rock
how much sugar have you had today
have you eaten what what time
did you take your day meds?
go take more valium
get away from me

i don't try to make his life more difficult. but there's always something wrong. if i did this, then i didn't do this. and he takes advantage of my bad memory, always telling me after the fact that he told me to do something differently than i did it. changing and making things up to make himself look good. look good to who? to me? he's just this guy i live with and used to fuck when it was convenient. now i can't stand to look at him most of the time and when i can, he does something to piss me off. funny how the roles have reversed.

he the next in a long line of people who don't see the good in me. they just see the bad. this has made me think i must be a bad person. so be it. he just notices the mistakes i make. it's like living with my mom. i'm afraid all the time. walking on eggshells. i did all this stuff around the house the past few days, and all he has to say is that i didn't change the litter box. thank you for negating all i did. thank you for making me not want to do it anymore. what's the fucking difference?

what's the fucking difference? i'm fucked if i do and fucked if i don't. i will always get yelled at.

am i always going to have to be answering to someone else? am i always going to be the child to random "adults" who will question everything i do? i don't want to live this life.

and then there's the part where they finally give in and hurt me. and that is my fault, too. so i'm meant to believe. and what happens if i do believe that? do i have to then believe that it was all my fault, each time . . .

i don't want to live this life.

  • dry hot and dusty as hell

    My last surviving grand parent died a couple of weeks ago. Two days to the hour o my Nana's death, my favorite cat, Boo, died in my arms. The grief…

  • Hey there, hi there, ho there

    I'm back, bitches and bastards, TC paid for a forever pass, I should use it. The cops came over and did a welfare check about a month ago. My…

  • Got Caught Stealing

    Having had yet another clever thing stolen by a bunch of what I have to assume are white middle aged hate macines; The line in my twitter profile…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.