Perpetually positive people are lying through their sweet-lie/Zoloft coated rotten teeth

I'm sleep deprived. Low self esteemed. I hate this. I hate this. I'm tired. I don't feel good...so I haven't been keeping up with this blog. Writing is something that happens in my head now. Perhaps it's time to invest in a voice recorder to preserve all of my decent ideas until I find the will to love myself and live my life again.

Right now I'm on autopilot. Lilo again, is the only reason why I get up every morning. But how long am I going to push myself. And will my body finally snap? No. I'm young. It's fat and strong. It can handle the punishment. Besides I fall ill or have a breakdown I'm as much a loser as her sperm-donor-father.


It's my mind, my thoughts, my emotional well-being I'm worried about. I'm not doing well. Lilo and I went to Folk Fest this year and there I experienced a level of elation I had not felt in a long, long time. Then depression hit me in the middle of it. I realized I was an outcast, I felt ugly. I'm a single mother, a twenty two year old single mother and I'm damaged goods.

The last guy (ex-ND) I was dating thought I should have treated him like a gift from God since I was his charity case. I don't like the extra weight I'm carrying...and here's the thing...I might not even be carrying any...but I'm just so dissatisfied with my situation that I've slumped into...well...I've been heavily down since the beginning of my involvement with the 'animals' my ex is related to, but now I just don't know...how I get up every morning...sometimes not even bothering to brush my teeth or change my underwear because I have to push myself out of the door.

Oh yes, I have a daughter. I think she's just about the only thing keeping me alive. Giving me a purpose. I try to thank her for being like a ray of light piercing through my tenebrosity buy showering her with as much love, kisses, patience and care as I possibly can...but even the world's trying to take that from me.

I want to be able to raise my own fucking child. I want to be able to express myself through any means possible. I want to feed her healthy food. I want to keep her warm, safe. I want to live my life the way I want to: free from this socially imposed fuck.

I'm going to live my life the way I want to. That's the promise I made to myself when I was 16 and ready to die. I'm going to follow my heart.

Because if I don't...I don't want to be here. Period.

And my heart is telling me: leave Calgary. Go live in a remote area. Grow lots of food. Educate yourself and your daughter. Paint. Write. Be happy. Squat if you have to. Find community...

Find community...oh I wish I trusted people enough to make that happen. I'm constantly trapped between the feeling of reaching out, congregating, loving someone else and this intense disregard for human interaction.

Except, people have never rarely given me a reason to trust them, which is why I'm forever the violated four year old, trapped in a shell of infantile naivety, soul-consuming anger, hiding from judging eyes and spit-spraying that judgment back out, tainted by the smell of my own urine, lost in delusion...losing hope.

Maybe tomorrow is the day I fall.

Maybe tomorrow is the day I decide I no longer give a fuck about what society expects of me. I don't want to be surrounded by people. Or anyone for that matter. As horny as I am lately, I found both the men I was with slightly repulsive. I look at myself in the mirror and I see...something undesirable.

Maybe I'm just really tired. Maybe I'm just tired of lying here in my own filth. Maybe I want to be in full control of my life. Maybe I just want better, happier, for my daughter and I. Maybe I just need to start being creative again.

I don't know anymore.