Full circle

This  could also be called powered by tequila. Yeahite a Sunday night - tomorrow is back to school - and I’m five shots of tequila down. 

I think at least in alcohol I’ve found my thing. My poison. My salvation? Lol. 

Hahahahaha ho knew I’d be coming back here hey?! I need to figure out how to make this anonymous instead of linking back to my very public profile. But I can’t right now. Physically incapable. Mentally incapacitated. 

So I started writing this blog in 2006. Holy fucking shit. That’s ok 13 years. Longer than any sustainable relationship I’ve ever had lol 

  

Long story short.. I am depleted. Like an elite mine. Elite mine = check out mobile game war and order. It was supposed to be my escape from reality but except I made it too real. 

I know I’m talking in riddles. Fuck me though, it’s my blog, I can write wtf I want hey 

What do you call a woman nearly-40 and still seeking herelsrf? Loser, is one. “Shitty person” is another. I was called that by this person who’s never met me ... but FUCK. I’ve lost the point of why I logged into type shit in the first place 

Gonna stop now 

Unemancipated

I wasn't supposed to write here. This blog was supposed to be dead. Except I never really took it offline. And now I find I don't really have a space where I can share what's going on in my head. There's the cake site, the food blog, the politically correct blog (mostly). Then there's social media to share kids' pics, cat and dog pics and inspirational stories from Humans of New York. While every other story about humans of India leaves me with a horrible taste in my mouth.

Sometimes I have to stop reading updates and reports from India. They really, really Upset me because they remind me of things I want to forget. I thought t I'd  moved on, forgotten, maybe forgiven. That life is good and some things are never going to touch me again. But it's not so. Every time now I read yet another familiar story from India, it all brings it back. The questions, the self doubts, the accusations and the never ending anger.

Why did you hit me? He had just called to ask about homework and I had not given him the phone number. Why didn't you let me go swimming? Or to the library? Why did you always say that I had a horrible laugh? Why didn't you ever call me beautiful? I heard you calling many other girls beautiful. And none of them looked like me. I tried so hard to make you happy. Why was I always lacking? Why wasn't I ever enough? Why was I always second best?

Why did you tell me that i couldn't touch the men in my family when I had periods because I would kill them? Why did you always call me an embarrassment? Why don't I have any friends? Why didn't I have any friends when growing up? Why didn't I go on school trips? Why did you glare at me when men looked at me? Why did you stop hugging me? Why did you say there was nothing special about me to bring Him back for me?