So i finally quit my lame ass job, once and for all. I've been miserable there for a long time for a long list of reasons i'll not get into for the fear of breaching some privacy nonsense i probably signed eons ago. Simply put - my soul died when i parked my car every day, and now i'm free of it. It's just sad because i was happy at my job when i was back home. It was just such a fun place to be, great people, no stabbing. The hammer, not so much. I've never worked in a place so full of gossip in my life man.
Anyway, yeah so i start a new job on Tuesday, which is just a job, very simply put. Nothing to brag about, but certainly where i want to be, which is back in Welland where i belong. I can't say it enough - i miss my friends and family. I'm homesick. And i cannot wait to go home.
So that's the newest excitement happening in my world! Moving home! Finally. I should never have moved here to begin with, but what did i know? Nothing apparently, except being married to satan. Ugh, here it comes... boiling to the surface, i feel a rant coming on.
Honestly, if John died in a firey car crash, which i do not wish upon him because no matter what he's done to me i don't wish death on anyone but child molesters, but if he did - i would not be saddened by this event. Bye... you selfish, evil, sadist. I haven't let it go yet. I do want to, and i look forward to the day i don't think about what he did to me, and when that day comes my heart will feel lighter, and I'll be free. I by no means miss him. I can't stress that enough. I have absolutely NO "miss" left. It's the "how could you" that's lingering, and making me very fucking angry every single day, and keeping me awake at night. And the steady anxiety "rushes", like the dropping feeling you get on a roller coaster when you go over that very first big curve and suddenly drop, then you know the feeling. Like butterflies with steak knives. it's actually a physical sensation, which is weird. Under the boos, and above the belly button - that whole front tummy area... knots. About 57 times a day. :/
"You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness. Like resignation to the end, always the end."
I think I'm addicted to it, but i don't want it. But i think about it every. single. day. That's fucked up man.The slightest little things trigger me too.... a scent, a song, someone's coffee order, a color, a street name, certain foods, random sounds, tv shows, you fucking name it, there's some link to John in it. GOD DAMMIT.
He got her pregnant by the way. The little home wrecking skeeze. Amber the dirty slut is going to have his crotch dropping bastard child, and they will be the worst parents, with the worst morals, setting the worst example. Poor kid. And the best part is they conceived it while I was still with him. Cute eh? Makes me fucking sick.
Too harsh? Don't read my blog then. Sorry... i'm just not up for debating.
Annnnnnway, aside from my constant loathing hate for John Leslie Bishop who gets no anonymity because he's a wasteful piece of shit, my life is okay i guess. I'm not happy in my heart yet, but i know i will be better next week. Moving home, and beginning again is exactly what i needed. Right this minute, i'm not okay, but in like 72 hours I'll be much better! (at least that's the plan).
Sometimes when i write these things, and publish them on the internet, i question if i should be doing so. Does this make me look bad? Or am i expressing my right to free speech, and venting in the only form i know which is writing? Either or, i don't care much.
I am finally moving home. That is the best thing ever. And i have Ally and Jack to thank directly for the possibility. I'll be staying with them, pitching in only what i'm able to when i can until my lease here in Hamilton is done. That kind of generosity is few and far between now a days. Everyone is always looking for ways to get theirs. How can i get my money, what's in it for me, how do I win? Not these people. They're opening their home, and literally GIVING me the chance to get the fucking fuck out of this hell hole, as soon as possible. I'll get them back for this. And they won't even know what hit them. Some how, i don't know how, but i'll somehow give this back ten fold.
*sigh* it's late... i need to sleep. But that's all i seem to do anymore, is sleep. I love the safety of my bedroom. I go in there, and close the door, and i have all my stuff, and no one can mess with me when i'm in my hole. I don't have to talk to anyone, or deal with anything, and it's quiet and clean and calm. I'm hoping my outlook changes effective Monday. Otherwise i'm sure Ally will drag me out by my ankles, hahaha :)
K, so yeah.... fuck John, yay for moving, and cheers to shedding my skin.
Peace.
