I got a job. A job that will look absolutely marvelous on my resume but doesn’t at the moment contain a lot of actual working.

I’m not done with school, no where near it seems, but I chose to work becuase my motivaiton for my education was running dry. Running dry. As if it was ever “wet”.

I just didn’t want to be stuck in a dead end job with a low salary, and miserable for my entire life. Instead I ended up feeling really old and absolutely no where in my life. As if we’re valued by our emplyee status, and lets not forget marital status.

So I’m no where. No mans land. I may have a job, but it’s temporary as the education has to be completed one wya or another. I’m not married, and if I’ve understood my boyfriend correctly, I wont be married for another 7 years. Or maybe it was five. I can’t really remember as all I could think was, wow I will be really old.

It’s not that I care about the marriage part. It’s rather, why doesn’t he want to marry me. Why can’t he commit to forever after in writing if he can when he talks to me? What is so wrong with wanting a ring, a ceremony, tax benefits and commitment?

He got me to quit drinking though. Not forever. With the exception of 2 glasses of wine last week (work dinner, and it was nice) I haven’t had any alcohol since the end of January. Go me. He was threatening to leave me, I had gotten violent. Problem is that my drinking is a reason for issues I surpress. Issues as aggrevatin over a messy home, being the bearer of all economic problems and then there’s my over-weight issue. Which of course was a major cause of the alcohol.

The weight has not improved really. I guess I just substituted wine with candy/sodas. And now I’m hyped up on sugar instead of alcohol. Will this circle never end?

Don’t we all know that it’s easier to find something we dislike about ourselves than to find something we truly like?

Well I found something, or actually my sweet Mr Man pointed out a quality about myself that I was unaware of and once pointed out I realized how much I loved it.

I’m extremely competent in reading people. I never thought about it before, but I can usually tell when someone is lying. I will not call them on it because more often than not it’s a tiny white lie, but sometimes it’s something big that will hurt me. Like my mother, sometimes she will say something encouraging but I can tell she wants to fill it out with something else.

It was usually just something I thought was my own insecurity, that I over-analysed, because that was what my mum used to say I did. Towards her, or my sister. But Mr Man pointed out how often I’d end up being right, and how often I had been spot on regarding people and circumstances. So now I don’t doubt it any more. I always was a killer at knowing which guys fancied my friends…

Read the whole list here.

This is not a good subject to discuss. This is where I could go on forever. I mean, I could list item after item both big and small. I’ll do my best to keep this short and concise. I’m unsure if I’m supposed to only list one item or all, something is singular, so I will write this post about the single biggest thing I hate about myself.

The inability to love myself.

It’s not that I hate myself, it’s not that I ruin my life. It is however a deep seething inability to love myself that make me constantly trip over my own good intentions.

I have wants, and needs. I want to lose weight, I hate the way I look. But I constantly manipulate myself into destroying the good work I do. I lost 50 pounds so I felt I was entitled to… stray from my diet. I never turned back to my narrow path and soon the 50 pounds with an additional 10 had fixated themselves all over my body.

I do that constantly. Try to fix what depresses me, and then I think but I deserve…and I end up destroying my good efforts.

I quit drinking and wasn’t even longing for a glass of wine, so I went out and had one with dinner, which was followed by another the night after. Soon enough I was back to my old alcoholic ways. Or I stayed away from sugar for a year and never really longed for it but everyone was praising it so it must be good, or maybe that cake tastes better, or everyone else is eating it…

Or what about the time I smoked so much pot I hardly ever left the house?

I don’t do mediocre. If I get hooked I decide to take it to extremes.

If something is going well, I decide to destroy it. I don’t mentally decide, lets destroy this good thing, I just think my efforts have entitled me to deviate from the plan. Each time I know the cost and what the result will be. Yet I convince myself this time will be different and I deviate.

Somehow I feel, this is because of my inability to truly love myself. If I truly loved myself I’d let me be happy, let me enjoy my successes and stop ruining things for myself.

This is something I need to work at, I just don’t know where to start. Once I’m happy again something inside me will say “you deserve” and when my other self try to keep me on the narrow path the evil me will heckle and say What are you afraid of, you’re strong now. You can do this and still continue on your narrow path. But I never can.

To see the full list of daily subjects go here!

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 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…

I met a man. We never planned to get serious, we never planned to fall in love. We knew each other and all we planned for was a summer of a lot of sex.

I fell in love, he shortly followed. We spent a lot of time together and pretty soon I had inadvertently moved in with him.

Inadvertently. Because I never planned on renting my own place to his cousin. I never planned to want to stay with him after his cousin had moved out.

There were certain things I knew about him before I moved in, even before I fell in love. I knew he had a computer entirely filled with porn. It didn’t bother me at all. We watched a lot of that porn together.

I knew he hadn’t been in a serious relationship, and somehow that was a relief because no weird exes to compete with right?

But then a month or so ago, he started visiting these cam sites. No wait, it started before that when he visited a random girls blog and became somewhat obsessed with her and her silicon figure. Visiting that site daily and commenting about her. She became pregnant after a month or so of the site and stopped blogging (picture blogging also) so he never got updates, that’s when the cam sites became interesting.

These cam sites (stickam, tinychat etc) might seem harmless and they are not worse than porn right? But these are people he interact with, get a bond with and form a sort of relationship with.

I told him it bothered me, but he just says I’m silly and that he loves me and shit like that.

I shouldn’t be bothered by it, but I am. I shouldn’t care, but I do. And since I do, I also know… if he loved me and they aren’t important to him why is he on those sites daily, why is he spending hours watching girls, usually girls who never undress so it isn’t the porn value of it all, usually different ones so it’s not favoritism or a certain type where i can’t suffice.

My problem is, I feel inferior. I feel inadequate. And when speaking it I feel silly. I also feel insecure.

I bet I wouldn’t care if I had had really good confidence, but I don’t. So why kick on me while I’m down?