There are two thirty day blogger month memes scattered over the internet right now. There might be more but these are the ones I’ve noticed. I don’t write daily, I don’t intend to write daily. But I wanted to write these.

So here’s what I will do. I will write from both, I will try to write all the 60 items, I will start with day one from one list to be followed with day one from the other, until all items are written. That is the plan.

I wont post the full lists every time. I’ll link back here for you to be reminded.

Day 01 – Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – What you wore today
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – What you wore today
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – A first
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favorite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your aspirations
Day 30 – One last moment

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself

I fear that I’m pregnant and I’m ambivalent about how I feel.

I only have a few months left of school and I was looking forward to working, earning money. Having money. I miss that feeling. Being able to afford normal things and not turning every penny. If I’m pregnant I wont be able to work for another year.

I don’t want a kid. They are cute and cuddly and I bet I would love my child just as much as the next mother, but I don’t want a child. Not now and maybe never. I don’t want to be restrained and I was finally okay with feeling and thinking about being childless forever. We were going to be happy anyway.

But one of my biggest reasons for not wanting a child was that he didn’t want a child and now he’s acting all cool and happy and saying we will find out soon enough if I’m pregnant or not. And I just want to understand, is this a true reaction, was all that other stuff only lies? Or is he hiding his true intentions? Is he walking out my door cursing on the inside?

He hides his sugar addiction and all I want to scream See me and my addiction, see me drown and yet validate the times I feel I need it, because I always need it… and yet I end up taking care of him, when I am the one drowning, the one dying the one who will not be here if this continues…

Quitting drugs, and in my part, alcohol, is not as easy as people want you to believe it is.

Did I not have spell checker, you’d be exposed to some awful typing.

I sometimes think of all of those blogging mommies who claim to have been an addict one time or another, but I cannot recall them ever typing while they were deep into it. And I’m deep into it.

Sometimes I think, oh sweet darling don’t get home for another hour or two, that way you can only guess how much I actually drank, instead knowing for sure.

I know, I’m deep in. I know it so badly that I do my best to hide it from my partner. I think he knows of this site so I guess I’m doing poorly job of it. However, my last boyfriend was an enabler. He would eat and drink and smoke pot way worse than I would. He would encourage my addictions and draw me deeper within them. I would try to break free.

Now I try to fight for my right to drink. I know it sounds crazy but it’s my last refuge, it’s my last… addiction. I gave up all of the others, way down to sugar. And it’s driving me insane what else can I look forward to?

When you give up to everything, the one time you let yourself free, you will take the step one close further to addiction, to deprivation, to the bottomless pit that is darkness. Because you finally let yourself have something.

That is why I get drunk more often now, than I did before. Because I refuse myself, and I refuse myself everything. All the time.

Someday this will be the death of me, but right now I cling to hold on and how do I do this? By getting drunk….

* I don’t want to tell you how many type-o’s I had with this post, because that’s just sad, I’m that deep into this shit.

The worst thing about you being right and me wrong is that you are in fact right. I drink too much. You are however wrong when you state that I will become and alcoholic by forty, because I’m an alcoholic now.

I lie to you… there’s only one glass left in that Bag in Box (when I know I switched it out for a completely new one just the other day). I hide from you, I fill up my wine glass when you’re doing laundry. I pretend you don’t see, sometimes you pretend too.

I know I should quit,and I know a lot of my “wants” will be fulfilled if I do. Weight loss to name one. But I did, and then I yelled at you when I wanted a glass of wine.

I’m afraid of pushing you away, and I think I’m a nicer person when I get my wine. I just don’t think that adds up tot he days I hide the amount I drink from you.

Remember the other day when you went to watch some football. Then when you came back I wanted a glass of wine. That wasn’t my first, rather my forth and I think you knew.

You’ve tried talking to me but I can tell you’re afraid of loosing me too and I don’t know the answer any more. I don’t know the right approach, because when I get like this, and you comment on the drinking, I get mad. I get oh-so-mad. And it would tear us apart. I’m sorry I tear us apart. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I just wish you’d happened before I grew accustomed to a drink here and there and everywhere.

I love you so much but I don’t know how to kick this, and I can’t let you be the focus of all my anger if you’re on the right side. I need you to stay in fake oblivion until I’ve figured this out. I can figure this out.

I already know I’m an alcoholic. Yet I fear to say it out loud. I don’t want to admit, because you will deprive me of the one thing I feel I need the most. Yet it is killing me, and I know it.

I can see that you see it, even when I try to disguise it. My gift and my curse have always been that I can see what you think, even if it’s about me or about another. I can see when you lust, I can see when you feel sorrow and I can see when you see something that I lie about. I see it, but you don’t call on it. So I lie some more.

Remember when I made a fuss about what seemed like nothing. My friend was over, you behaved like a perfect gentleman, and I fussed. Cause I could see. Her want, your want. Yet neither of you made the other aware. But I could see. It  has always been my gift and my curse.

When I was younger I could tell who wanted me, who wanted to say something, who felt disgust. I could always tell. It never bothered me. Boyfriends ago, it never bothered me.

I can tell when you see me. I can tell when you don’t. I can tell when you hide from me, and I can tell when you don’t even try. I can read you. I can read you better than anyone ever has, no matter how close to you. It hurts me. It makes me love you. It pains me. It makes me a drunk, it makes me want to change.

I don’t think I can until I can make you understand, just how deep in the shit I am. I am in the shit over nothing. And nothings going to change.

I’m an alcoholic.

I’m sitting here, expressively feeling I don’t wanna. I want to lie on the floor, kick with my feet, hit fit my arms, wail like a child I don’t wanna.

I don’t want to study anymore. I don’t want to write papers with team mates, feeling my absence is vital and harsh feelings and nasty words are shot my way, only because I dared to be sick. I hate that I can never be sick, because I can never miss a day of school. I can never miss the amount of labour I have to put in. I hate that my weekends are never my days off.

I don’t want to feel poor any more. And I don’t want to worry about the day I graduate. I don’t want to have anxieties about finding a new apartment and then not getting approved because I’m a student. I don’t want to have to think, all the time. Constantly. I don’t wanna.

I realize that I will miss my late mornings when I’m done. I will miss the early days to go home, but guess what self. You never really get to go home, you are never really off. You constantly have to study and if you don’t you constantly have to worry if you did enough.

I hate the fact that if I stay home, I miss vital information for my future studies and there is no way I can get that information through other sources. Sure I can ask people in my class but guess what, they either hold back or they didn’t listen attentively enough. Unless the professor basically just said hi and bye.

I want to be free. I feel trapped.

This entry was originally posted at Mushroom Print.

The other day, I was walking down the street, clearly stressed out because I was one ingredient short for my mom’s birthday present. You saw me with your friends and felt the need to comment about me:

Is that a man or a woman? I can’t tell.

An obvious lie, since I have breasts bigger than most breastfeeding mothers. But you felt the need to shoot it my way anyway.

I don’t know if it was because I was stressed and hadn’t showered or because I was in slacks and obviously hadn’t fixed myself up. Maybe it was the sweatshirt I was wearing, supporting a football team you hated. I don’t know.

Your friends started laughing. Someone said right or exactly or I agree.

Had you been 15, I wouldn’t have been surprised, but you were well over 20. I’d say either pushing 30 or way past it already.

So thank you mystery man for feeling you had the right to take your crappy life out on me. Thank you for feeling the need to push me down because I didn’t live up to the standards you felt women should meet.

Or maybe you pushed me down so that you could push yourself higher?

Here’s a mushroom print for you old man, because you obviously haven’t left high school and you felt the need to drag me back there, even if for just one day.

I gained a lot of weight the past year. Weight I worked hard to shed off. But as we all know gaining is easier than losing, and I definitely turned a blind eye towards the gain until it had completely taken over.

My reasoning was the birth control pill. I started taking it (again) last summer when I met my boyfriend. The pill was driving me crazy. I was always hungry for more, no matter it be food, sweets or alcohol. It was just too hard to stop eating. So I didn’t. And I became angry, and angrier. I couldn’t control my mood swings, and I cried all the time, over nothing.

I went off the pill and found myself another birth control method (IUD) and all of a sudden I became sane again. And I weighed myself, and I wanted to die. I weigh more than I have, ever before. I weigh as much as two people, my length, should weigh. I realize I have a lot of work ahead of me but I am motivated.

My first concern is though, that I don’t want to weigh half of me (121) because the last time I weighed that little I was around 11 years old, just a tad shorter than now, and I never looked fat. I want to weigh around 143. Last time I did, I was gorgeous.

My second concern is, this has to be slow. I don’t want flabby skin, and I need to change my patterns. I have been overweight for the major part of my life, and its my habit. My habit to constantly hate my body. Its a habit I want to break.

I want to be brutally honest here. I would love to show what I look like but I’m afraid. I would love to tell you what I eat but that is boring. I would love to share, but I don’t know how. All I know is that I will do this, one step at a time.

The funny thing? I don’t really like candy. I don’t really drink sodas. I hardly ever eat chips or really fatty food. I do love my wine and my troubles start there if for no other reason than that I get the sweet tooth when I drink. The funny thing is, I eat healthier than most people I know. I just drink too much…