Tag: life | The World According to MEH

Eros or Thanatos, Part Deux

Posted on November 11, 2009 by admin • 8 Comments

Ed. Note: This is a continuation of sorts from the entry posted below. It would make more sense if you read that one first, but it’s not necessary. This can be read as a stand-alone.

I woke up today feeling like a completely different person than I was yesterday. The sky was a soft, light blue–the kind that you could almost wrap around a paper cone and call it cotton candy. The clouds were fluffy and white and looked like I could go bouncy bouncy on them. For once, I had slept decently–two three-and-a-quarter hour chunks, and I would have slept more if I didn’t have to get up to go to therapy. I felt tired as hell when I woke up, which is much better than batshitcrazy mind-numbingly exhausted to tears.

I give props to Kel and Gregory for helping me through an especially difficult day yesterday. Sometimes, a gentle kick in my nonexistent ass is exactly what I need to just make it through the worst of time. Well, the nudge accompanied by a healthy dose of compassion and love, and my sleeves (to wipe my eyes). They made me list ten things I loved about myself (ok, coaxed and cajoled) and just basically listened to me vent. Neither of them will let me get away with shit, which is also needed because I am very good at talking shit to myself and believing it.

Here are the ten things I listed that I love (or really like) about myself. I was able to come up with the first two rather easily, but the others were more difficult.

My mad writing skillz.
My intelligence.
My hair.
My tats.
My eyes.
My sexual prowess (in bed!).
My compassion, especially for underdogs.
My dark and twisted sense of humor.
My passionate nature which leads me to have many opinions.
My smile.

Life or Death–I Gotta Choose

Posted on November 11, 2009 by admin • 4 Comments

Ed. Note: I wrote this yesterday. I do not feel this way today. The entry above this one discusses how I feel today–which is much better than yesterday.

I woke up feeling extremely sad today. There are reasons for it, some known to me and some unknown. At any rate, I have been teary-eyed all day. This isn’t your every day ” I got the blues” kind of sad, either. It’s the “I feel it so deep in my gut, the pain is tearing me apart” kind of sad.

It’s the “I wanna crawl into my bed and not come out ever again” kind of sad. Which, if you think about it, is ironic because I hate going to bed. It’s the place of much of my frustration, and yet, I continue to hope that I can find sweet oblivion there.

I want to slit my wrist (only the right one. I don’t want to mess up the tat on my left forearm) and let the blood run freely. I want to wash down a handful of pills with a glassful of bourbon and let my demons finally take control.

I ran a few errands today. When I got back, I sat in the garage with the car idling. I had the garage door closed, and I was so fucking tired. It would have been so fucking easy to close my eyes and let the darkness just take me away. I saw the death membrane shimmer as it called to me. How easy it would have been to say, “I give up. You win. Take me.”

I hate myself today. I hate myself with a deep, abiding passion. I hate everything about myself. I hate being fat and ugly and worthless and needy and so goddamn fucking broken. I hate being a freak, an oddity, an outlier, an outsider.

I should never have been born. It was a fucking mistake, or someone’s idea of a cruel joke.

It hurts. Living hurts. My body hurts. My cats walking on me physically hurts (and they only weigh nine pounds (Raven) and ten and a half pounds (Shadow), respectively). The sunshine hurts my eyes. The world hurts my heart.

I’m Back, Bitchez!

Posted on July 23, 2009 by admin • 6 Comments

Margaret_Cho_2 I’m back, bitchez! Did you miss me? What’s that, you say? I wasn’t gone? Yes, I was. Didn’t you notice the sappy Minna hanging around for the past couple of days being all, you know, emotional and shit? Well, I sent her to her room without supper, locked the door, and ate the fucking key.

I’m back. The sarcastic, darkly humorous, sensual, lusty, grumpy, bawdy, bodacious, fucked-up, passionate, hedonistic, funny as all get out, snarky, Alan Rickman-loving (by the way, am I the only one amused by the fact that Alan Rickman is the biggest tag in my tag cloud? Anyone? Anyone?), snide, snippy, fiery, fierce, tattooed Minna is back with a mighty fucking vengeance.

You see, I realized something last night. Yes, last night was when I was half-drunk, but I swear this isn’t the drink talking. I mean, I have chewed over it ever since I thought of it, and I still find it a good realization, so it’s not just the bourbon.

You want to know what I realized? Well, too bad. I’m going to tell you, anyway. Why? Because it’s my blog, and I can cry if I want to. Plus, since y’all are a big reason I made the realization, I figured I could at least do you the courtesy of telling you how you’ve helped me. Ok. Ready? Here it is:

I have figured out the meaning of (my) life. Yeah! It only took me thirty-eight fucking years! Boy, am I a slow learner.

Metaphor of My Life

Posted on June 19, 2009 by admin • 3 Comments

bruised knee I am really, really, really clumsy. I walk into walls, corners, couches, tables, etc. Now, partly this is because I don’t like to turn on lights. Therefore, I am often groping around in the dark, and not in a good way. In addition, it’s not easy to see two black cats in the dark. Plus, they seem to have a knack of placing themselves juuuuust right so I will trip over them with the least damage to their own little bodies.

My mom likes to tell the story of how when I was a little girl of around two, and remember, this was in the days before fences for toddlers, I would fall down the stairs every day. She would hear me go thunk, and there I would be at the bottom of the stairs. There were only a few stairs, and it never stopped me from doing it again.

When I was also two or three, I was playing follow the leader with my brother (him being the leader, of course, as he was (and is) older than I) on our parents’ bed. It had a crappy headboard (again, before regulation and all that shit), and as I jumped, I gashed open my forehead on the headboard. My dad promptly fainted as my mom rushed me to the hospital. You can still see the scar today as I’m keloid–which means I scar twice as badly as most people.

A Life Worth Living

Posted on May 23, 2009 by admin • 8 Comments

space OK, I lied. I do have something to say. Here we go.

My life has been defined by what I’m not and what I don’t like. When I was a kid, I didn’t like playing with dolls. I didn’t want to wear skirts or dresses. I didn’t dream about my wedding day, and I didn’t much care for anything outside of reading and some sports. As a kid, I wasn’t popular at all. I was smart, but I didn’t fit in. I didn’t look like other people, and I certainly didn’t think like them. I would rather climb trees than play jump rope. I would rather play with the boys than with the girls.

Ok. Skipping to religion. I didn’t believe in capital-G God, no matter how much I tried. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that there was some guy up in the sky and that He actually gave a shit about, well, anything. In fact, I forgot to add in my week-long series that my current conclusion about god is that if he/she/it exists, he/she/it is very laissez-faire about matters on earth. I imagine he (let’s just say he for now) is off somewhere partying his ass off and not paying attention to all the shit happening on earth.

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