Saturday, December 22, 2012

Blah blah blah

The biggest problem for me this time of year is the large amount of time I have to fill, and the small amount of activity I have to fill it with.  I sit and get caught up in reams of meaningless thought. A nauseating and endless loop of blah blah blah that stretches from ear to shining ear.
I get caught up when I read things from people that have been altered by the personality disordered, and how they say we should be some kind of a flat line.
No anger.
No bitterness.
At least none we should be willing to talk about lest we appear to be less than someone who makes each day one of constant self improvement. That we should be blogging as if we are a finished product and be sharing how we became whole again.
I don't get it.
The day will never come when I don't have to sit on my hands to keep myself from going down and throttling my mother like a Sunday dinner chicken.
It's not hyperbole. It's not embellishment. It's a constant fight to suppress this urge.
And I don't care who knows.
Which brings me to my round about point.
The reason I don't care is because I know I am not the person that is fucked up. It's her. And I'll be goddamned if I am going to become some shrinking violet and not tell it like it is about that fucking slut from hell.
I am not fucked up.
You are not fucked up.
We are not fucked up.
It's them.
(ok we are fucked up but they made us this way)
They have no problem telling the most outrageous lies about their sons and daughters.
Why would any of us shy away from telling the truth about them, or showing the emotions they have left of us with to sort out on our own?


Jonsi said...

Hmm - This is kind of unrelated, but I have to say it anyway. When I was with the asshole narc-ex, I used to get what I called the "blah blah blahs." I would write blah over and over again in my journal or on a sheet of paper or in my notebook at school. I think because I needed to be mindless for a while. Because it was the only way I could think of to calm my anger and hurt. If I just sat there and thought "blah blah blah" in my own head, repeated it like a fucking mantra. Because the rest of the time I spent feeling hurt and angry and destroyed and chaotic.

As for the rest of the post...fucking brilliant as always.

I don't like it when people tell me I'm supposed to stuff my fucking feelings. There's no reason why we can't be angry. Why we shouldn't be angry. Sometimes, when they say, "being angry lets your enemies win" I think, that's just something my enemies want me to believe.

q1605 said...

I don't see how it's unrelated.
A narc is a narc is a narc.
If others want to sip tea and lull themselves with hypnotic psychobabble, far be it from me to call them dumb fuck ostriches standing around with their heads in the sand.
That's how everything ends up repressed.
You can shove that anger balloon down here, but it's sure to pop out somewhere else.

Jonsi said...

I'm going to shove my anger balloon up their fucking asses and THEN watch it pop.

q1605 said...

That's the spirit Ninja Jonsi!

mulderfan said...

What Jonsi said...X10

If we pulled half the shit on them that they've pulled on us they'd be totally ape-shit.

Hello assholes??? Being fucking pissed off works both ways!

q1605 said...

No shit MF.

Gladys said...

That MF can be read 2 ways! I'm firmly in this camp. Anger is AWESOME and feels cleansing. And the ones who tell you to calm down, don't make a fuss, don't have feelings? Those are people with something to gain from keeping the status quo.

Fuck 'em twice with Jonsi's balloon.

q1605 said...

Their sense of proportion is horrible. If the Barbarian had ten to the power of 50 tooth picks and you asked for one she would have a tantrum.
Considering she has never held a job I am pretty sure I know how she acquired those tooth picks.

upsi said...

lololol fucking slut from hell, you slay me