Ashamed

I want to see a therapist, but I feel too disgusting and pathetic to ask.
I mean, I know I'm a waste of money and oxygen and gas money and such, I already feel bad enough about driving my car and not having a job, but half of my problem is I won't go out and get a job because I know something is wrong with me and I don't function well in a public setting. Heck, I have this constant feeling of fear and anxiety everywhere I go, no matter what I'm doing. I can't connect with people, I either feel too young and insignificant around them, or too old or mature to connect with them. Most days my emotions fly from one extreme to another, and I've thought about killing myself for over six years now. I have cut, and I can say that every time I look at myself and know I've sunk that low over points in my life makes me want to rid the earth of myself just on principle. I am a disgusting bag of flesh, and as much as people have tried to change my perspective over the years, the fact remains the same. I will never be happy with my body, my personality, or any aspect of myself. I am a thoroughly disgusting creature, and would enjoy almost nothing more than to kill myself so as to not be an inconvenience and a waste of resources. The only thing I'd like more than to be gone? To feel like and look like I actually have a purpose.
So many people have tried to tell me differently, to change my perspective, and make me see 'the light', and sure, it's a temporary patch, and sometimes I feel good about myself, but I always return to this spot. Because in the end, other people's opinions don't matter. Other people aren't here with me while I'm holding the razor, finding inconspicuous spots to punish myself for breathing. They aren't here to tell me I'm being selfish and horrible and I need to stop being an idiot. No, they're far away, trying to give me encouragement to feel better about myself. I don't want to feel better about myself. I want to know I'm trash, and I want to be punished for it, and only then can I get better. Because only once someone realizes how useless I am and makes me pay for it, will I truly be able to improve. Because it's just not enough when I hurt myself.

I don't know if I should laugh?

Because she's pissed off at someone and it's not me but I almost feel kind of bad for this person? Because they didn't know the pattern. They were an online person so they didn't know the rule and the rule is unless you're an online boy, you get left behind. Honestly, unless you're a boy or able to pay your way in constantly, everyone gets left behind. And I really have no reason to feel bitter, today has been a pretty okay day, but this just makes me laugh like a bitter old man. It sucks to be you, anonymous user. You got kicked in the ass and I find it so damn funny because I thought you'd replace me but you didn't. I outlived you. At least for now.

Serial Liar

How is it that I've gotten to the point where I lie to almost everyone just so that they don't think I'm an asshole? Yeah. I lie to people so they don't hate me. Because honestly, I couldn't care less for them. There are only very few people I don't lie to because I actually like them and care about them. But the rest of the humans? I couldn't give a rat's ass about them. So I lie. I say things like 'I like you the way you are' when I'm really thinking 'Yes, you are and annoying, needy person and I'd rather be rid of you but I can't tell you that' or 'I don't find you annoying' when in reality I feel relieved when I don't get a text all day.
People who don't matter, just shoo, go away. I don't matter to you, so don't make be bother with your problems either.

What am I?

I face this question all too often. Who am I this week? Who should I be, for who? What person do I need to be for the people in my life? Who do I have to keep happy?
I hate that. I can't just be me. I'm not really sure who me is, but I know that me isn't the person I am now. I know me is the person who hates freely, likes solitude sometimes but then a warm pile of pillows and a back rub at others. I know me likes food. I know me likes shorter hair, but dreams of long, silky hair that trails down to my knees.
Me is a person I don't think I'll ever be, if life has its way. Life says I have to be committed to relationships, but that's so tiresome. I'm sick of all the needy bores who want me to be theirs, and solely theirs. That's not who I am. I want to be with people, but I don't want to be tied down. And I realize that's not a mature view for me to have, but it's true. Maybe it's just because I haven't had a fulfilling relationship. Or I'm with the wrong people. But I'm tired of the needy girlfriends and the immature friends, the people who can't take care of themselves. Why do I have to be the one to do that? I've taken care of myself for eighteen years, and I've taken care of others for only a few less than that. It's reasonable for me to be tired of it. And I enjoy it sometimes, when it isn't an all consuming stresser that takes up my life.
I like it when people take care of me, and I don't have to force them into doing it. That's what I enjoy. I enjoy waking up in the morning and making something to eat for the person I love.
I don't know if I enjoy sex. So far, it hasn't really appealed to me. In fantasies, sometimes. But in real life situations, I just feel cold. And I don't know if that applies to any fetishes I may or may not have as well, but in real life situations I gain no pleasure whatsoever. Kissing to me, feels gross. Only once or twice has it felt anything other than disgusting, and even then the sensation wasn't pleasurable. And I hate that. Why does it have to be so gross? I just want to kiss the people I love. Why does kissing have to be sexual? I like kissing my younger friends, who I call my kids. We've kissed on the mouth before. I didn't find it sexual at all. In fact, besides being worried about the implications, I found it nice. I just want to kiss people when I'm happy so they understand. I don't want things going in me or people touching me weird, it just doesn't appeal to me, and never really has.
I just want to get rid of my sexual relationships. I want to get rid of all the people in my life who ever think they're ever going to get something from me sexually ever. Because no. I don't want the needy people. I don't want the people who see me as a sexual object. I don't want the people who think I'm a cute little toy to play with, or some bad girl with a history in dominance. Because I'm none of those things. I'm a grumpy little genderqueer thing that enjoys taking naps, eating crappy pot pies, snuggling with stuffed animals and swearing like a sailor during scary movies. I like swimming sometimes, even though I hate the hair on my body. I like reading books on sunny mornings. I like falling asleep with someone's arm around my waist. I enjoy looking pretty, and I enjoy looking punk. I love it when people compliment me, even though I'll never let on. I love knowing I'm important to the people I care about. I love the smells of things, and I love being comfortable in someone's home. I love the feel of someone's skin. I love being useful. I love being safe.
Can someone find me? And tell me it's okay to be me? Because I'm tired of everyone making me be someone else.

I'm fucking tired of this shit, why now

I say, but of course this was going to happen. It's two am, we check out in less than nine hours, and you know where everyone else is? At a rave they said they'd come back from an hour ago. Or who the hell knows. They left the phone here. And they still need to shower. So when they get no fucking sleep and all they do is bitch and whine, I'm done. Done, done, done, done, done. I never want to go to conventions again. This is it. Not even going to finish this year. I am just done with these people.

I feel so great!

She's having a miserable day, and I couldn't give a fuck! I take my drivers test today, everything is Misha, and it's fabulous.
Suck on my Mishaken, bitches.