Bitchy or PMS or Both

I'm tired, pissed off, and frustrated. Just not that good of company at all. Or maybe I could be if I could believe anything that came out of anyone's mouth at this point. *sigh* I feel like in every corner I look it's a fuckin' puzzle I need to decipher. The words don't match the action. The action doesn't match the words. Really? Is it that hard? That fuckin' challenging to be genuine?

The game. The fuckin' game. I don't want to play a fuckin' game. I just want to be real. I don't have the patience to live this way. I don't. It's exhausting to spend all fuckin' day pretending to everyone to be happy, to be strong, to be fuckin' positive while at the same time trying to figure out what's behind everyone else's bullshit.

My job is essentially hopeless.

I'm tired of drive-by shootings on a sunny, Sunday afternoon mere blocks from my house, and my drive way being treated as a shooting range.

I'm tired of people saying "You need to get out of there." Really? You don't think I should say? FUCK! I KNOW I NEED TO LEAVE!!!! Tell me...how does a broke ass bitch with no savings, barely getting through from pay check to pay check possibly move?!? Don't they still require...first/last and/or a deposit? Oh and pay off the utilities here and then make a deposit on the utilities there? Oh...wait...I forgot...I left $1500 under the bed. Let me go grab that and make everything better. *psh* Silly me...

FUCK!

I haven't seen my kids in a year and a half. Looooooser. But somehow I got through Mother's Day and Del's birthday without tears. Although as soon as I got to this subject the tears came.

I'm tired of being strong. I wish I could curl up in someone's lap that I trust, that I believe in, that could honestly just care that I'm hurting. But letting anyone see my pain is beyond me. Too many other factors that require my guard to be up at all times.

Possibilities that I just can't seem to get to turn over. God...if just one them would flip...so many pieces might start lining up.

It's like everything is jammed up with no movement. More and more pressure. I keep trying to shake something loose so everything can flow, but nothing will budge. I'm scratched, bruised, bleeding. There urge to just toss a stick of dynamite into the mess is overwhelming. But reason takes over and I'm not sure what pieces would be broken beyond repair. *sigh*

My ex told me that maybe I was "on divine pause" and that maybe I should go to church. Considering he also mentioned he might be getting $180,000 payout despite the fact that he's a dick...I just have to wonder how the whole karma thing really works. lol

Fuck.

I'd just give up and go to bed. But I gotta keep tugging on those pieces. Can't quit. Keep movin'. Keep movin'.

*sigh*

-Kat