Most of the time its hard to really pinpoint when my disability is an obstacle.

It’s only when I catch an obvious mistake in a resume I’m about to send out and then I second guess every other word after that. Is this really how you spell this word? Which then sends me into a puffed up and frustrated person with each misspelled word I type for that day.

That’s when my disability is exhausting.

There is a lack of confidence my disability has cultivated and I haven’t been able to shake it off yet. It’s hard to shake it when you spend most of your energy hiding the fact there is something different about you. How could anyone go into work confident.

How could anyone go into work confident when you’re freaked out someone is going to notice you’re a bit off.


The West Coast Douchebag

A friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a…blah blah blah we barely knew each other but he started chatting with me on Facebook. He was definitely hot! A bit too cheesy with his lines (for me personally)

We had planned on meeting when I got back for Winter Break. But once I was home, I didn’t really want to see him, just had this gut feeling, this red flag from him. And of course I would end up being right. Not only did he text me one night, “I want to be inside of you,” (along with a whole group of even more nasty messages that really belittled me) he also randomly a week later after the fucked up sexting messages sends: “You’re too difficult to hang out with, I’m seeing someone else now.” And after telling him off he then told me he was lying and just wanted to get a rise in me.

This all ends and blows up with us planning on going out to dinner and he cancels randomly saying he thought I didn’t want to have dinner anymore and he wanted to watch the Larkers game. And that was the end of that.

By far one of the biggest, most self-centered, assholes have spoken too and who basically would have just wanted to get into my pants and would have bailed afterwards or would have stuck around for a bit and treated me like shit.

This middle finger is for you Douchebag


Bad Dreams

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a bad dream, but last night I woke up around 3am from a terrible dream and I had to turn on my lights to fall back asleep.

I don’t remember much of the dream, thank goodness. But I remember there was someone shooting people. Everyone was trying to get away, but most didn’t get away. There was this one part I really visually remember: there was a car accident during the whole shooting. one car on top of another car. The car on top crushed the person driving in the other car and all, I remember, is pieces of brain all over the asphalt and I remember not wanting to look at the persons crushed body. I think I knew the person in the car too, my friends little sister.

It was a freaky dream.

Dreams like that shake me for the rest of the night and into the morning.


I scratch my legs too much when I get stressed out. I’ll be sitting in the bathtub thinking about all the things stressing me out and then before I know my calves have these huge scratch like rashes up and down them. I’m pale so the contrasting red seems a bit more intense then it probably is.

Why I’m stressed

A whole boatload of reasons why I’m stressed, because my anxiety comes and goes, but yesterday and today’s anxiety is terrible.

For one thing my two good friends from out the Midwest are in town but they are a bit wishy-washy about plans. They want to hang out, but they sleep in until 1pm and well are not planners. I’m a planner and I hate being late. Now I’ve gotten better, I’ve actually been late to a few things and I have left certain plans up in the air. It’s a process, but I hate when I’m left guessing if I should put pants on.

Also, work makes me stressed. My job is nice and I enjoy it and they enjoy me. Yet I still live this lingering sensation that they’re going to fire me. I think this has to do this my continuing failing relationships with guys and how my last job can kind fizz out.

My Last Job: Is by my favorite job. It was my home and my boss was family. He’s still family, but he’s not really the boss anymore, a co-worker of mine took over and well we don’t meet eye-to-eye on anything. I’m a very social-emotion person and my co-worker has much more of a poker face, even though I’ve seen them at their worse a few times. So that job just kind of ended with me not feeling happy there and also dislike other co-workers.

So here I sit, waiting for my new job to call me back because they wanted to talk with me about my schedule for January.



As my previous post involving Marcus, Brian was very much a quick side step that I really hate talking about, or thinking about. I have spent a good portion of the last four years trying to forget about him.

Brian was a drug dealer, who had recently left prison.

I know.

I really know how to pick a winner huh?

Brian smoked too much, had terrible tattoos of poorly drawn out women’s breasts and had a lisp due to his ugly tongue piercing.

Like I said, I had a night in question with him and Marcus and I’m going to leave it at that. But about a month afterwards I was pretty broken up over Marcus (ugh stupid me!) I think I wanted to make Marcus jealous. Yeah, have sex with Brian…good idea. NOT!

So we had sex, it was bad. He was probably the small penis I have ever seen and he just smelled of alcohol and cigarettes.

I think he may have liked me a bit. Or at least liked the idea of me being a regular sex buddy. He continued to want to hang our. Go to clubs with him, go out to eat. I really had to do some major blocking to get away from him. Really wanted to block him from my memory.

Few years later I heard he got married. Huh.


So that was Brian, the drug dealer.