“Intervention”

I watch it all the time but the new one I just watched astounded me because I actually saw me on the other side of the person.

I never thought that Vance was smart enough or sober enough to manipulate me…but he was.

I lived through years of him screaming, throwing shit at me, calling his friends in front of my face and telling them what a fucking bitch I was because I wouldn’t give him money for beer or get him drugs.

In the end I did all of it. I paid for his drugs and his beer and I even drove him to get both.

Enabler? Of course I was but I have a problem with that word. I enabled to save my sanity. If I didn’t do it he would scream at me all night long. If I tried to leave…it would turn physical…if I reached for the phone…if he got to it first…it was a weapon. I went through a lot of phones. Then I learned I just wasn’t fast or strong enough and I gave up.

The memories that are starting to emerge…I don’t want to live through again but I know I have to.

I’ve lived with a drug addict for years. Walking out into my kitchen with weird people in my house fucking blasted out of their mind and I’m trying to get ready for work.

I know the reason for the last few depressing posts. He called me the day after my birthday and I listened to the message.

I’m around normal people now and it’s weird but all these new people make me think that I want to at least try to be a semi-normal person. They make me, want to make me a better person. Does that make sense? But it’s so tiring to listen to them talk and try and understand their normal world. Because I don’t understand.

I’ve been under a microscope for years and my family still thinks I’m weird and living beyond my means, which in fact I’m trying to clean up my past. They just think I’m a loser…I don’t blame um.

People at work, I think, thought...it was some sort of attention getter about my birthday. It’s not really that fucking funny to me but I have to make a joke of it because it hurts and the weird thing is, is I bring it up...mistake...I know Mindy is the only one that understands. One day or one year it doesn’t fucking matter. My birth certificate says one day…everything else says another. My Mom said just the other day…”For the hundredth time INDIA…the hospital made a mistake.” Okay. I'll never bring it up again...but I still want to know WHY?

I’m so fucking dark minded sometimes that I think…the hospital did make a mistake or someone did because I wasn’t suppose to be born. That’s a whole other story that I should have never been told.

I know I’m fucked up but not enough to do it to another person.

I think life is sweet, I don’t want to miss a second but it’s a shame I do sometimes.

Because I’m just so fucking tired.