Money

She only has $47 to her name. How. How. I'm in this apartment because she needed a place to live. I didn't sign up to be her sugar daddy. I barely have enough money as it is. I'm already regretting buying her a semi-expensive Christmas present. Now no one else gets a Christmas present and I rather would have had someone else like my family get presents from me than her. I'm really mad about this. But maybe because I've started this gofundme, I'll have more money because some people might help out a little with money. That might be nice. I'm just freaking out. I have to pay her fucking phone bill as well. Wait. You know what. No. Her phone can just go unpaid until she has money. She can fucking deal with it. It's not like she's the only one around here with expenses. The rest of us are paying for more than she is. And I'm tired of it.

I'm more mad at her than I am the dumb roommate

This is it. I'm so fucking done with her. Her goddamn cat is sick with fucking pneumonia they think and you know why? BECAUSE SHE NEVER GIVES HER GODDAMN CAT THE VAPOR RUB ON ITS COLLAR OR GIVES IT ENOUGH WATER OR THE VITAMIN GEL WE GOT FROM OUT FRIEND AND I'M FUCKING TIRED OF IT. It's her damn fault that the cat got so sick and if I have to pay more than half of what's going to be an outrageous vet bill, I'm going to scream. See, if I wanted to, I could leave Orion here where they want him, and I could move into my Grandmother's. Ahh, how nice it would be, not to have to pay bills or anything of the sort. I might actually have money for once.
I'm just so angry. And legitimately so. If she fucking took care of her pets instead of fucking being on tumblr all the time or skype or whatever with her stupid fucking kevin cult or whatever the shit they are, maybe her cat wouldn't have almost died. But hey, who cares, she probably got a new follower on her roleplay blog and all the kevin's will be soooo worried about her poor kitten. Fuck her. She's not allowed to have pets anymore.

I tried posting this on tumblr, but no one cared

I want someone to see this because the internet isn’t giving me answers for once? But at the same time putting this out where people can see is embarrassing, yet I can’t even really ask someone because I have no one to talk about this, so I hope maybe posing my questions to a general audience might get me some answers.

So I’m at this really shitty point of my life where I haven’t dated for over a year now, and I refuse to do so because I feel like I need to figure out what’s going on with me before I involve another human being in my shitty headspace. But at the same time I can’t figure out what’s going on because I don’t have any answers and I feel like I’m not asking the right questions, and I can’t even be honest about my feelings because I’m ashamed and disgusted by my own human nature. Like. I can’t even be honest to myself about how I feel about anything sexual. I’m at this constantly fluctuating point where some days I really want sex and I’m so sexually frustrated and oddly aroused and others the thought of sex makes me so anxious and nervous and sick I can’t understand how I could ever want it. And then while this whole debate is going on in my head, I just keep telling myself, “Why does it matter? Sex isn’t a big deal. You don’t need it to survive. Stop being gross and thinking about it so much, there are so many more important things to be thinking about.”, thus invalidating my want to try and understand how I feel. And it’s dumb and stupid and pointless, but I feel like even though it’s a waste of time and irrelevant, I do need to figure out how I feel about sex and all that jazz. 

Which is where I get lost. Am I pan? Am I ace? What am I? Why does it matter? It matters because I want an easy to read label to put out there to attract a future mate who I might hopefully feel sexual arousal for. Which in itself is asking a lot. I’m trying to think really hard if I’ve ever felt sexual arousal for an actual person, and I’m not sure if I have. Does this mean I might as well throw myself on the asexual bandwagon and doom myself to a life of celibacy?(and before you go telling me I’m all wrong and I have no idea about asexuality, this statement above was just a jab at the stereotype that asexuals are all like 40 year old virgins who can’t get laid. I know they’re not. Trust me) Because I feel like so often, if I did take the plunge to label myself as asexual, I would miss out on the majority of sexual encounters that I might actually enjoy. I’ve felt arousal. Hell, I’ve dabbled here and there, I have my fair share of kinks, and yes, I’ll admit, I’ve masturbated. Oh wow, big shocker, so gross, who would have guessed how nasty I am? Everyone probably, tbh. But do I want sex? Maybe. Does thinking about the actual mechanics of sex gross me out? Yeah. Does genitalia gross me out? Yes. So how am I supposed to get rid of all of this sexual frustration if I’ve got all of these barriers?

Also, a little more honesty hour here: I’ve had sex, and I’ve messed around a bit, but always afterwards I feel scared. And that’s another damper on the whole “I want to start a relationship” thing. I mean, it makes me a total dick to have sex and then every time my brain starts working and there isn’t that cloud of “hey this feels pretty good” I panic and run away or back out or cut all contact. Like. Wow. That puts me in total asshole city and I know it. I am completely aware. But how am I supposed to get over that? Why do I freak out after everything? Why can’t it just be good, and stay good? What’s really the problem here is my brain and me overthinking things, that’s it. I can’t just fucking enjoy something, I have to ruin it for myself and others. Is that why I panic? Is it some big scheme of self-sabotage, something I’ve been known to do my entire life? 

I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any answers. I still have so many more questions, secret fears that something is wrong with me because I’m just not satisfied by certain things, and a shit ton of stuff I can’t tell anyone and haven’t even said here because I just feel like a disgusting fuck up for even having these problems.

Ugh, rant done for now. Writing this out didn’t help me at all. 

Well this is a bunch of shit

Literally. TMI guys, I know, but I have to poop so badly. Like, everyone does it. Everyone poops, incase you didn't read the book.
But you know what's not so great? Our shitty(pun intended) roommate clogged the toilet. Again. Who plunged the toilet? Me. Who will have to call maintenance? Me.
Sometimes, I hate living with these people. Ha ha, correction, all the time. I literally regret ever moving out from my grandmother's. There is no reason for me to be the only responsible person in this house. I guess maturity goes from youngest to oldest here.
Ugh, this is killing me. I really need to go to the bathroom. And I don't have the number for maintenance and I don't want to call because it will just be me giving in to them not having to have any maturity or responsibility. Fuck you guys. Fuck you hard in the asses with something sandpapery.

Whatever, fuck you too

Greaaaaat.
Now I get to deal with her shitty period behavior. My favorite part.
I fucking hate women. Why any part of me thought it would be good to like them is beyond me.