Crisis of confidence - or a failed exercise in self promotion

So I realized tonight that I once again have zero self confidence. I feel like I'm the biggest piece of shit looser and I have no idea why I still have the friends that I have. So instead of dwelling it as I usually do, I'm going to do something radical and selfish. I'm going to spend five minutes writing about what an amazing person I am and you get to watch . . . so here I go the timer's set.

I am an incredibly friend. I will always be there for anyone without asking what's in it for me. I always have good intentions even if good intentions really do pave the path to hell. I can type fast. I have a passion for the written word that is uniquely me. I make a mean soup and I have to say despite the fact that I smoke so much, I think I have really good tastes. Tastes in food, taste in books, great tastes in movies. . . . I can't think of anything else to write, what else is good about me? I always work as hard as necessary and I'm able to take the lead when necessary. I'm kinda cute. I'm a good writer. I'm running out of ideas. I don't know what else to say. I can't think of another good thing about me. I still have a minute and a half left. I give up. I thought this would work, but it just didn't.

Just to expand this experiment, I'm going to repeat the exercise saying what is bad about me. This may hurt, but maybe getting it all out will help me see as a whole what I'm only seeing as fragments now. So here it goes, five minutes:

I'm fat. I have bad teeth. I drink too much. I'm pushing my friends away. I'm pushing my family away. I'm a looser. I'm a user. I'm a disappointment to my family. I'm prone to being used. I drive a crappy car. I work for minimum wage saying that it's making me happy, but really constantly guessing myself the entire time. I'm fake. I'm needy. I'm a drain on society. I bring people down when I'm down. I'm either paranoid or I'm positive that people talk about me behind my back pretty much all the time. I don't dress good enough. I'm about to go to court in two days and I have no idea what's going to happen to me.

And that's the point that I needed to get to. The reason I feel like such a piece of shit looser mother fucker who deserves nothing but rejection and humiliation is because I'm so worried about going to court in two days. I am so afraid that I'm going to end up in jail, I don't think I could handle it. Maybe I can and maybe it will be good for me. Maybe it will be finally fulfilling my destiny that I layed out for myself oh so long ago when I decided that I'm probably going to end up in prison before I'm thirty. I don't remember coming to that conclusion . . . is it yet another thing I can blame on my mother? Do I really want to?

Maybe I just need to get away. Find myself. Even if what I find is a slightly more reserved me than what I was.

That's another point that I go to earlier, I've been trying to find who I was when everything was going good. I have no idea how I was different, but I was. The best thing to do is to replicate as many of those conditions as possible.

I really need to address my drinking. I have to decide for myself if I am an alcoholic or just immature? Would it really make a difference? I can't drink recreationally. I know that I can't have fun without it anymore. This sucks, I did meth for six months and I kicked it and alcohol is what does me in? That is what brings me down? That's kind of bullshit isn't it? I mean at least it could have been a harder drug, then I would have gotten more sympathy. When someone gets addicted to heroine or meth, then it seems there's a certain understanding that because those are so addictive that it's understandable that they got addicted to it. With alcohol, most people can control it, I can't. Period. I always have to drink to the point of blackout or not at all.
So does that mean I have to stop period or do I just need learn to control it? That's the question of the day I guess. And actually a question for another day. That is something that I'm going to have to think on.

I wish I had a better ending for you tonight. There was no huge revelations . . . I just put some pieces together that were missing from my view of the world. Will it help knowing the problems now? Maybe a little, and if it even helps a little, it was worth it because nothing else is.

Zoloft Diaries

I know it's going to be hard for everyone to accept that I'm going to change overnight. But the fact is, that I am. It's just that simple. I take this magical pill, and the world seems like a less threatening place. Sure that means headaches in the afternoon and decreased sex drive, but people seems to like me better, so I'm making a sacrifice for my friends and family. I just wish some would appreciate that more.

I know that I was an asshole before, I knew it while it was happening, it just took me a while to make the connection between quitting Zoloft and the collapse of my life from the ground up. I'm not saying that none of that would have happened anyway. KT would have still cost me my job and BTW, I still hate them more than I've ever loved anyone. I wish KT NO harm, but I don't think I would be hugely disappointed if Karma finally caught up with them and KT ended up homeless on the corner, addicted to meth, begging for quarters. In fact, I think I might have to stop by and spit on them if I did find them in such a predicament. I wish them no harm.

Today is not the day for me to be watching any movies, I'm sick of seeing romance. Lonely never changes. But I've made a decision and that's what's keeping me going today. As soon as I get the chance, I'm going to put myself back on Zoloft.

I didn't like it much, it made it so I could play the game, but I could never finish. I'll know what the means later, so it doesn't matter that you don't. But now that I'm off of it, I can't seem to get into the game at all, so I'm stuck on the sidelines watching. But the important thing is, people seemed to like me more when I was on Zoloft. My depression I can deal with, it's a security blanket.

Depression justifies a lot. It justifies whining to everyone until they just don't care anymore. It justifies spending entire weekends holed up in a room on a computer crying at whatever gets through my oh so thin skin. It justifies making rash decisions in the name of happiness. But it pushes people away.

It makes me unpleasant and I know that it does. Zoloft, for whatever reason, made people like me. And that's what I've always wanted. I just wanted to be liked. I wanted to be accepted. I wanted people to actually look forward to seeing me. I've always wanted to turn down invitations and decide what I want to do with my night instead of always having to initiate the contact with people.

I don't know how I was acting differently on Zoloft than I am now, not exactly. I have some vague idea of what I was doing differently, but I can't really pinpoint anything. Like those find the difference puzzles. But hopefully that will be the first step in my salvation.

For now, I spend another weekend wrapped up in my depression and maybe I'll make an effort, and maybe I won't. I just know that today, suicide is only a comforting thought and not a real option because I have just a little ray of hope, and that's all I really need.

Blah, I gotta deal with my family today. They hate me and I hate them, but way too often I we have to get together and pretend we like each other. It's a lot of bullshit if you ask me. Why do I have to be nice to these people that I don't like? Because they're family that's why. I don't want to do anything except tell these assholes off, but I'm not gonna. Instead I'm going to smile and laugh at their "good natured" insults. And I won't bring up the fact that my step dad hit on my cousin, or my cousin is a pedophile when they bring up the fact that I'm such a fat, lazy, piece of shit, poor excuse for a human being. I won't bring up the fact that my mother is a murderer or my sister's a looser who can't get a job when they're degrading my choices in life or saying in their own passive aggressive way that this family has seemed to perfected: "Why are you eating so much?" or "I've lost fifty pounds . . . ".

Why is there so much hate and resentment towards everything built up in my recently? Where is my happy? I'm not even looking for Happily Ever After anymore, at this point I would be content with one of those moments where I stop and say: at this moment, life is good. I haven't had one of those since I lost my job and my apartment. I just want happy for a little bit. Please God, just a moment of happiness today is all I need to get me through the next few weeks, months of the Hell that has become my life.

I hate kt, I hate kt with all that I am and all that I have to hate. If I could feel this much burning passion about anything else in life, I'd be a success. Throughout the past few weeks I'd like to think that I've grown and I've purged, but my hate for kt, only burns hotter and longer. I hate kt for what it did and what it didn't do. I blame it for the loss of my career. It doesn't get credit for anything except for ending what could have been my happily ever after of jobs. Now that I'm off on a new adventure, if I find success, then great, I'll still hate kt. If I hit rock bottom and die an early death, I hope my last words are not of love to my family but maybe of forgiveness to kt. Not likely though. If at some point I do take that plunge off of Cape Perpetua, don't worry, you'll read it here before I do, then my last written words on this earth may be of my hate of kt. May my last thoughts be of love and what I'm saying goodbye to, but my last written word be of my hate of kt, and which point, all will know what kt is. My last entry will hold back no names, there will be no doubt about who finally made me say goodbye.

And YES I am being melodramatic, but this is MY blog and I can cry about whatever I want to. And right now, I want to say again that I hate kt more than I've ever hated any single thing in my life. Kt is responsible for me loosing my job. Period. As a disclaimer, I wish no harm to kt. But this is America and if the KKK can hate blacks and Jews and gays, then I can hate kt. And I do. But I hate kt more than the KKK hates all that they hate. I hate kt more than Hitler hated the Jews. I hate kt more than Bush hated homosexuals and more than Cheney hated America. And to paraphrase "Hook", I hate, I hate, I hate KT! I wish kt no harm.

I hope that kt feels bad for what it did, but I'm almost positive that it's proud of itself. I wish kt no harm. Even though I've forgiven the boss that fired me and I've forgiven myself for all the little things that I did to help myself get fired, I even forgive those responsible for me loosing my apartment, and I certainly forgive the dick that got me put in jail, I cannot and as far as I can tell, will not ever forgive kt. I wish kt no harm. But I will never, ever stop hating KT!

The good thing about being unemployed is that I'm not constantly obsessed with Happily Ever After. Now that I have absolutely nothing to offer the opposite sex, it's almost easier to accept that I'm going to be alone at least for the time being.

Finally I get here and I can spill my guts. So a lot has happened in the past week. A lot that I don't want to go into. If you know me well enough then you already know what happened, if you don't know and you care enough, e-mail me to ask me: jwfeller@gmail.com. Right now I want to talk about how sick I am of these fronts. I lost my job, I ended up in jail, and I may be loosing my apartment all within one week. I'm now almost broke, and even though I have all these elaborate plans and contingency plans and back up plans for the contingency plans, I'm scared. That is what I cannot tell anyone, because if they know how damned scared I am, they wouldn't be able to do anything and they would just tell me with a superior grin on their faced that they told me so. I don't want to be lectured about what I should have done, I don't want to be reminded that this shouldn't have blind sided me like it did, I know that I should have seen this all coming and honestly I kind of did. But I Am Scared. Period. There is so much of life that is now completely out of my control. Even though I have plan after plan after plan, they all end with me being in shelters. What if I can't find work? What if I don't get unemployment? What if I am evicted? How can I not but dwell on all of those all the time? I don't usually, but that's only because I keep myself occupied. I'm just scared because there's only so much I can do and even if I do all that I can, I'm still at the whim of the universe. Is any of this story unique? Of course not. But it's the first time I've been through all of this. I'm so ready for bed, maybe this will all make more sense tomorrow. Doubt it.

The reason it hurt so bad when Jenn said that she was uncomfortable around me is because the reason she said she liked me is because she felt safe around me. Not a long thought, but I was watching Greek and that popped into my head after tears popped out of my eyes, ha ha.

Oh faithful readers! It's been over a week since I've been kissed, and there was more, but it's the kisses that I miss. Call be girly, call me gay, call me what you will, but there's nothing like holding a girl in your arms and knowing that you're making life just a little happier for them. And yeah I should be happy when I do that for anyone, but the physical contact is what I crave. And maybe I crave it more than I should. I just really want to make somebody else's life a little better for just a moment because they are with me. And over the past couple weeks I've forgotten that. It's been all about me, all about what I want, and what I need. I've been selfish. What I need to remember over the next couple of days or weeks, no matter who I'm with or who I'm talking to, whether it be a customer or a friend or a lover, my mission in life is to make their life just a little bit better because they are with me. When I loose that mission, that's when I get selfish and push people away.

Once again blog, you have made things clear in a way that real life can never make it. I just hope I can remember this one. Goodnight world and thank you!

Jamie! I miss you sooo much, here's my new blog everyone: oblivionschild.tumblr.com . . . that's where some of my super secret non-work-appropriate posts are. And the slightly obsessive, mildly crazy stuff is too.

Anyways, my Kiwi-Angel, I just saw New Zealand on the news and I thought of you, hope you were okay. And randomly the change machine at work spit out a New Zealand quarter so another reason to think of you. Anyways, wish we had a chance to talk again, I know that some day I'll make it to New Zealand which recently made it to my list of places to see before I die, and then we'll sit back and you can show me the local culture. . . and you are so not chunky, you're the picture of beauty and very possibly the girl of my dreams . . .

Which leads me on another tangent. There is a girl that I don't know that keeps on showing up in my dreams and has been for years. At first, she was just the perfect kiss. In my dreams, she would be the one that kissed me and showed me that the spark does exist somewhere in life. I woke up with a sense of hope whenever I dreamed of her. I never realized that it was always the same girl. She's shorter than me maybe 5'3 or 5'4 with straight, shoulder length dark, dark brown hair and cream skin. She has smallish tits, and she's always dressed kinda conservatively or at least not slutty.

The other night, I dreamt that I was talking to a bum outside my work and he wasn't being very cooperative, and I was just trying to have a conversation with him. And she was just back maybe 10 yards watching. Just standing there making sure I was okay. So I'm thinking she's some sort of spirit guide or something, any ideas?