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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #434 !!
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##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: "A Little Too Much About Me" !!
##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: *or* !!
##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: "A Standard Fucked Up Irc.girl" !!
..:::::..::::.....::::........:: by -> Meenk 1/15/99 !!
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ten minutes to 6am, the day after christmas. i sit on irc, for
lack of human interaction elsewhere. as pathetic as it is, the lack is
not because of the hour, though i am an insomniac, but because of my
disappointment with almost everyone i know. this has also carried onto
irc. i am at that point in the irc cycle where i have dismissed most of
the people i talk to as insincere and unimportant. as irc people should
be, or so i am told. there are a few who really do matter to me though.
i guess i am one of the worst irc people. i acknowledge the value of
people i have never met. being the antisocial creature i have chosen
to be, my standards don't include real world interaction.
the holiday, and familial interaction that it imposed (though
all through fiber optics) has caused me to take a look at myself as i
was, and as i am. i am a very sentimental person, and when i have times
of reflection i delve deep into my soul. i realize how lonely i am and
how much i keep from myself and everyone around me. the purpose of this
file is to exorcise my demons, and lay myself bare for all to see. this
is your warning, if you don't want to know, stop reading now. for the
few that remain, maybe, here I am.
so tonight was one of those rare nights when I found myself
reaching out to strangers. I had a long conversation with my best friend
whom I have just left, in an unfamiliar city, a victim of his willpower,
or lack thereof. i told him, for the thousandth time, how much i care,
and to take care of himself, since I could not. i have an extreme
maternal instinct. i need to care for those i care about, and it has
just gotten worse over the years. i brought up to him, the loss of my
friend nova, the one person i would have died for. a similar thing
happened. i left town, chasing after dreams, she went on with life.
ended up dying of a heroin overdose. i can't go through it again, so i
pleaded with him to take care. if only i could be there. if only i could
have been there. i made vague future plans with him, maybe on the
superstition that i won't lose him if we have such an appointment.
he proceeded to go to bed and i realized that he and i were not
the only people in the channel. there was one more, who out of
courtesy, indifference, or embarassment, stayed silent as i allowed
myself to succumb to fear. i made a truce with fear long ago, and
rarely did it ever take hold of me, anymore. though the third party
remained silent i remembered how important vulnerability can be.
honesty, innocence. not expected from anyone over eight years old, yet
so important. this person had seen a side of me few ever do. i began to
look for someone to whom i could talk to, without feeling threatened,
in my sensitive state. but why hide it? because i am an irc.girl and
irc.girls are supposed to be tough? because this mass of strangers will
grab onto what they can and tear you apart? i get picked on every
single day, without refrain, for being a slut, for being dependant, for
being weak.
what is left for me to hide? i am already regarded amongst those
who see me that way as the lowest of the low. besides, no one can hurt
me as much as I can, and do, hurt myself. i will not deny being less
than sane, i will not deny that i have been around, and i will not deny
that i cry. even now, my face is stained with tears. tears of regret.
tears for those i have let down, tears for those whom i have had to
abandon, tears for those whom i will hurt in the future.
i was once told that i am transparent to everyone but myself.
maybe this is true. maybe you all are already aware of my struggles with
my emotions and i deluded myself into thinking i kept them private. i
feel i have come a long way though, and there is no one who has been in
my life long enough to see the progress, except me. i recall a time when
all emotions i had, happiness, sadness, anger, excitement, were intense.
so intense i could not handle them.
the positive emotions were easy to use constructively. i was an
overachiever, tried my hardest at everything. brought home straight As
for years, tested at 99-100 percentile academically, won presidential
awards numerous times. i was in the most advanced classes the district
would allow me to take, going to my special classes, on the short bus,
where we would take things apart, invent things, be observed while
doing puzzles. i was also cutting myself, punching holes in doors (the
foam core ones.. i was 8..), and having blackouts. my mother tried to
have me committed when i was 10, they wouldn't take me. i went to live
with my father instead.
my stepmother was elated that she had a little girl to do stuff
with. i was a girlscout, did crafts with her for the christmas sale at
school, even went out to dinner with her the day I got my first period.
my dad was doing well, had a successful career, and regularly took me
to all the cool places in the bay area. my little sister was like my
little doll. i continued to excel in school, winning spelling bees,
math and history competitions, as well as filling up the little bar
graphs on the state comprehensive tests. up to par. i hadn't had any
sort of episode the entire time. then, my stepmother decided to
separate from my dad. i was about to go into 7th grade.
she moved to oregon, i opted to remain with my father. i rarely
saw my dad after she left. he worked, i went out (11:00 curfew), he was
asleep when I came home, gone when I woke up. we both liked this just
fine, for a while. i had drawn the attention of a guy at school, one of
the harder gangsters. i heard rumours about him 'claiming' me. one
night he got me. after that, at school, people looked at me
differently. i would walk to class while people talked, sometimes
behind their hands, sometimes for all to hear, about the girl that gave
it up to adrian. i went home and dragged an X-acto<tm> knife across my
wrist. stupid move. not only did i do it the wrong direction, but i
couldn't cut deep enough to do more than make a big ugly scab. i was 12.
i gave up on the knife and gathered every pill in the house. i
swallowed them with a Quik Stop cup full of water, then laid down to
await my fate. after a while i felt like i had been chewing on foil,
and my stomach was cramping. i puked up white grit then passed out.
the next day i awoke to the phone. school wanted to know why i wasnt
there. i said i was sick. i sounded plenty sick. the edges of my vision
was decorated with what seemed to be black lace, and i felt like my
ears were full of water. i freaked out and called a suicide line to
see if i had eaten enough pills to die. i hadn't. i panicked and tried
to strangle myself with a phone line. it hurt, and i passed out, though
not from lack of oxygen. i stayed home for a week, and my hearing was
still fuzzy for a while after i went back to school. only one person
noticed the scab. she didn't say anything.
within two months my dad realized something was not right with
me, and while listening in on my phonecalls learned that i had slept
with a guy in my neighbourhood. he put me in the car and 9 hours later
i was under lockdown (by my parents) at my stepmother's. i tried to
tell them what happened and was called various names, same names i
hear from people i don't know today. i discovered drugs. heroin. the
soothing smoke. i ratted out my dad for fucking some chick, out of
spite. the entire household became chaos. my stepmother moved us into
a house her boyfriend (nice politics, eh?) had bought her. she ditched
him, brought my dad into the house, fucked the ex on the side, and
tormented me for the trouble. my dad was threatening suicide. one
morning, before school, i got all of my sister's sleeping pills,
swallowed them dry, and slept.
i woke up because i hit the floor. i had very little muscle
control and managed to get out to the hallway and fall down the stairs.
my stepmother was home and yelled at me, asking why i was home. i
couldn't speak. i studdered, forgot what i was saying as i tried to say
it, and convulsed. she freaked out and demanded that i tell her what
was wrong. i produced dozens of empty pill blisters and she helped me
to the car. i faded in and out on the way to the hospital. liquid
charcoal, tubes, and six hundred dollars later, i was ready to go home.
the hospital was used to it and didn't have time for psych evaluations.
my older sister worked the pity party for as long as she could, but
when people saw i didn't care, they didn't either. other shit happened,
and i left home. i was 14.
i moved in with a boy, young and stupid like me, with a house of
his own. we played Donna Reed for a while, but he soon felt the wrath
of my temper, and my fists. thank god he never hit me. i stayed with
him for a couple years, hating and adoring him all at the same time.
we got in a car accident and i had to go home to my dad and stepmother.
nothing changed, except i was on crutches. i left again 3 months later.
on the street for a month and a half, then back to the ex for another
year. i left him for someone else. now, he and i would have had 2
children.
my new love and i went to see my mother for the first time in six
or seven years. he was a recovering heroin addict. he never touched it
while we were together, but when he left my mothers to go to his family
he started again. i couldn't deal with the fighting and i stopped
speaking to him. he was the last person i hit. i couldn't handle the
violence anymore. i became incredibly subservient and tried my hand at
other failed relationships (big surprise), and failed attempts to find
something to hold on to.
now, i remain in what i like to call 'constructive apathy'. i may
seem like an uncaring, unfeeling bitch, but at least I am not hitting
anyone. i am still trying to put my life together and make friends that
I can count on to be there, not judge, be honest, and hopefully, not
die on me. i once again have the will to live, and the desire to do
more than merely exist.
"i sentence you to be exposed before your peers..."
I am human, I make (a lot of) mistakes, and sometimes I get
overwhelmed. I didn't write this to be picked apart, though I expect it.
I didn't write it for pity, I wrote it to possibly be understood. or not.
none of you matter to me unless I want you to, anyway. I wrote this on
my terms, because I wanted to. if you have a problem with it, tell
someone who cares.
!!========================================================================!!
!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #434, WRITTEN BY: MEENK - 1/15/99 !!