One of my very best friends died.
I learned a lot about who will stick around when the going gets tough.
I struggled and scraped to pay the rent, Every Damn Month
I fell in love AND had my heart broken.
I lost my first born child to insanity.
Again, I tip my head to the sky and ask "How much more am I supposed to take?"
Yeah, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself right now. Fuckin sue me. That's something else I learned recently. I ain't as tough as I thought I was. I walk around joking and smiling, but this shit affects a person. I'm not above that. So if I want to indulge in a moment of self pity... It's my God damn diary, I'll do what I want!!!
The spans of time between crying... Those are the dangerous ones. The angry ones. The listening to Slipknot and Disturbed ones. The I wonder who I should call to come over and fuck me ones. The wonder if I can get kicked out of the bar for sucker punching the door man ones. Yeah, fuckin and fightin. Either or both would help me forget about all this pain I'm in. Either would provide a distraction. Rough and raw and mean. Those old friends tried and true. Until you feel like a dirty whore with sore knuckles.
Something about being not-so-tough scares the hell out of me. I don't like this shit AT. ALL.
I've the house all to myself tonight. DQ, as you may know, is in the group home. Itty Bit went to stay with my ex-mother-inlaw. The best I've got to look forward to is some on demand TV that I couldn't normally watch when the kids are around. And I wonder is this as good as it's going to get? And if so, what's the fucking point.