06.17.00

I've always knows that I don't like people very much. Individuals, yes, but as an aggregate whole? I can't stand the jerks.

So why the sudden rant about something that I've been railing about my entire life? Because I feel betrayed today. Worse than normal, anyhow.

I really should stop expecting intelligence from people ruled by hormones. Add courtesy and the basic rules of fair play, too.

I'm in a foul mood now. I was actually pretty happy today. I'm getting better. I wanted to go dancing. But now, I'm going to retreat into my little anti-social corner and grump at everyone for a while.

I'm sick of everyone expecting me to always know what's going on. I'm sick of feeling guilty when I expect people to behave in a consistent manner. I'm sick of trying to be nice to everyone, since the assholes get the good stuff anyhow. I'm sick of feeling like I don't belong anywhere. I'm sick of trying to live up to other people's expectations, when I don't even know what my own are anymore. I'm sick of having to explain myself to everyone. I'm sick of being ugly. I'm sick of self-denial. If I thought it would actually help, I'd literally leave everything behind and start from scratch. I'm just so fucking frustrated. And I can't think of a single person I've come into contact with who hasn't added to this somehow. Fine, inadvertantly, but the pain is all too real.

I'm sick of this self-loathing. I'm sick of feeling worse about myself because I don't like myself; it's a cruel trick. I'm sick of holding back my screams. I'm sick of hating everyone and everything most of the time. I'm sick of knowing that no matter my dreams, no matter my accomplishments, I will always be judged by utter morons who will determine my worth by my waistline. I'm sick of feeling bad about myself because I'm fat. I'm sick of being told in one ear that if I want to be loved, I need to be thin and in the other that it's ok to be as I am, and to accept myself. I'm sick of knowing that even if I do, by some miracle, manage to sort my head out enough to come to some form of self-acceptance, the instant I do, something will happen to screw it all up. I'm sick of feeling sick, and like I should go "talk" to someone, because I'm too damned skeptical, and I know it's all bullshit.

I'm sick of not having any faith in the people around me. I'm sick of not having any faith in myself. I'm sick of wimping out and not expressing this inner rage to anyone who might really care. I'm sick of being afraid of what people will think of me once they find out who I really am inside. (I know that both of you reading this are thinking "Who the hell does she think she is? She needs help.") I'm sick of knowing that nobody actually cares about any work I do, other than things at work. I'm sick of dying a little inside, every day, when I repeat the ratrace rut of wake, commute, work, commute, eat, sleep, repeat.

I've had it. I'm going to go sulk until I realize how stupid I'm being, and then I'll go to bed.

---

Well, there's a first. I've managed to cry myself into a nosebleed. I've never even *heard* of anyone doing that before. Heh. There's another one to add to the list.. I'm sick of being a medical oddity.

Ok, fine. It doesn't help that I've spent the past four days coughing up globs of phlegm and snorting out enough snot to bury a small village an inch deep.

I've always been really weird about people knowing I'm crying, or seeing me when I am. Now I know why.