It’s rare that I get this way….

Sometimes I get so upset that I can’t even begin to write it all down fast enough or have it make sense when I’m done spewing my guts but I’ll give it a shot.

I’m really fucking sick of people judging me. I’m so fucking angry and upset I’m trying to keep my hands from shaking. People poke and poke at me and I take it but it comes to the point that I am right now. I’m getting ready to fucking crack here.

Some people seem to think that I’m living the high life out here…that I love the dramatics of my life…that I’m a drama queen…that I do things for shock value. They think things are simply cut and dry and I’m continue to do the things I do to make people feel sorry for me or to have something to talk about.

I really do wish it was that simple. The fact of the matter is…it’s not. If I knew I was doing half the shit I was doing I wouldn’t fucking do it.

My heart leads my life…not my head. Is this a bad quality? Yeah…actually it kind of is. Do I wish my brain spoke up a little more often?…absolutely.

I’m a dreamer…I always have been. It comes from childhood. I am nothing like my brother or sister…when we were young we chose different paths. They were popular and attractive…they had friends, girlfriends, boyfriends…parties to go to…prom dates (that didn’t end up being gay…that’s a whole other can of worms). I was the fat ugly girl that had one friend in high school…that was teased and taunted so I found my own world through writing and painting and having animals as my friends…they never judged me.

I have done some really fucking stupid shit in my life…I KNOW THIS! Everyone has…I guess people just like to REMIND me a little more than most.

Do I do things for shock factor…no. Does some of the shit I do make for a good story after…of course it does…am I thinking that at the time I’m doing it…no. Did I live in 9 years of misery with Vance because I would have something to chat to someone about? Have him beat me a belittle me to end up here…damaged goods and hiding out in my house just to have a blog to spew it to the world. Yeah that was my intention all along…I would really be a moron if I planned that shit.

As hard as it is to believe…I loved him…I still do in a weird way. I continue to talk to him…well until recently…because I think that he will finally realize that he doesn’t have to hate the world anymore…that one day he will call me and say “India, you were the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m sorry I fucked you up.” I know now…that day will never come. I kept talking to him because my heart was telling me I should…not for some fucking blog that I tell how many times he called me a cunt or what he did to me this time or that time. To be honest…it still surprises the shit out of me when he does…why? Because I have seen “him”. The boy that never had a childhood. That was beaten and belittled by his father…the boy that was harassed and made fun of…I saw me in his eyes sometimes. He’s hurt….damaged goods….just like me…the only thing is…he doesn’t realize it yet…so the world and everything in it has become his punching bag.

Sometimes you have to look at the shit in your past and deal with it. It’s ugly and I know this well…we all learn from our mistakes right?

So…back to my emotional distress…heh…

I guess my point is…just because I lived though that mess should I never trust again? Start looking at life in a different perspective?

No one knows when someone or something is going to rip your world to shreds. So I should live in a bubble and not trust, not do, not experience life when it’s right in front of me everyday?

That’s not how I’m built.

Everyday is a new experience. Everyday IS a story to tell. That’s the beauty of it.

I have fucked up my world and I’m trying to fix it. I have learned from my past mistakes and I also know I’m going to make a hell of a lot more of them. Now when I’m going to make them remains to be seen.

People seem to think I’m doing this shit on purpose and they make me feel like shit about myself. Yeah that’s right I’m that fucking stupid. Thanks. Jesus Fucking Christ give me a little more credit than that.

I’ve even had someone say I might be doing it subconsciously just for the drama factor. Yeah I got head butted by my ex for the drama factor. That’s it…I knew there was a fucking reason.

After Vance…my life had been a constant up hill battle. I also can only blame him for so long. I am trying to figure out how to pick up all the pieces and glue them back together again and why all this shit happened in the first place.

Should I go to therapy and have some other fucking prick tell me what to do? Nah…I actually like trying to figure out how the pieces of my dark, dramatic, tragic soul fit together….heh…now that a was drama statement if I ever heard one and in all fairness...I can be quite the drama queen…I’m a Leo and Italian what do you expect.

As Popeye once said…”I am what I am and that’s all that I am”.

I just don’t like the fact that people keep trying to tell me I should be something different.