Hello, My Name Is Jaded

Jad·ed [jey-did] adjective - worn out or wearied, as by overwork or overuse.

Once upon a time, I had a lot of faith in humanity and people.  I was able to give my heart and my love freely.  I took being hurt in stride.  I got up, shook it off and moved on.  But I swear to you that I don't lie or exaggerate when I say that every single person who was supposed to be there for me and promised me that they would has let me down.  I mean everyone.  My parents, lovers, friends... Everyone.

I don't trust easily.  When I give my trust and it is broken it can take years until that person gets it back.  If they ever do.

Within the past week I have been hurt by other people.  I have been let down, abandoned when I was in need, cried, and even cut myself.  My heart is tired and my soul is weary.  What am I supposed to do?

When a person is constantly hurt they eventually become cold.  I'm so afraid that I feel that coming on in my life.  I don't want to be cold and unfeeling but if I continue down the path of constant emotional beatings, I know I will be.  I'm not even sure if writing helps anymore.  I used to be able to turn out a few poems, put my feelings on paper, and I would feel a bit better.  Now it just doesn't seem to help the way it once did.

I figure that maybe something is wrong with me.  I know that I am emotionally unstable.  I'm on medication, but I'm not sure it's helping at all anymore.  I mean.... I cut myself this week.  How is that medication helping if I'm doing that?  I swear there is something wrong with me.  I know there is.  There has to be.  

I want to publish a few poems I've turned out recently.  Maybe that will help someone, anyone, understand enough to offer me the sound advice that I can somehow give to other people but can't seem to come up with for myself.

Gauntlet

My head and heart are fighting

Anxiety ripping through my skin.

The old familiar feelings

Flooding through my veins again

Star light, star bright,

First star I see tonight...

If wishes really came true

My heart would win this fight.

Screaming on the inside

While holding the outside together.

The perfect mask of serenity

I've been wearing for forever.

My love for you prevails, 

But what problems will it fix?

Can I just stand by

While you continue to scratch the itch?

Lack of control

Doesn't mean lack of strength.

How much time will pass

Before we see this to length?

Star light, star bright,

First star I see tonight...

If wishes really came true,

You wouldn't be fighting this fight.

Denial runs deep

In both of our hearts.

You cling to your hope

While mine slowly departs. 

Star light, star bright,

First star I see tonight...

If wishes really came true, 

I'd wake up this night.

The blackness creeps in

As I struggle for air

Screaming out to the nothingness

In the pit of my nightmare.

The sun creeps over the horizon

As reality sinks in.

The time has come for you and I

To face the gauntlet again.

 

 

Let's See 

You said you'd take a broken heart for her.

Let's see how true that turns out to be

When you're laying on the floor

Clutching your eyes as if to push those acidic tears away.

Let's see how long you'll last

When emptiness launches it's attack

When it finally hits you that you're alone

That you've let go of your heart

So that see can beat happily away

While you are left pathetic, cold, numb;

But not numb, just wanting to be.

You drown yourself in a forbidden ecstasy.

That fire in your lungs won't help you.

That alcohol coursing through your veins won't do.

It's not enough.

Nothing is or will be.

Can't you see? 

You're not so strong...

Not for yourself anyway.

You'll be Hercules for her

But in the end when you're alone,

It's like all the circles of Hell have crushed you.

Especially that without hope...

But you've never needed God, have you?

Religion won't help either...

Don't turn into a hypocrite.

All that will do,

If anything at all will give you time.

Time for your shattered heart to heal

More deformed than before and more jaded

Than any bashing has left you.

So let's see how you plan to keep your promise.

After all...

Loyalty has served your scattered spirit well.

 

 

River

The ropes have been unbound

Drowning

The thickness fills mu lungs

Sinking

The sound of her voice still haunts

My feet touch bottom

The pressure crushes me

Her voice still rings in my ears

Fingers on my skin

Breath on my neck

Hands in my hair...

Blackness.

Sweet unconsciousness sets in

I lose myself

She follows

Breakthrough...

Air passes my lips and I taste life

Screams erupt from me

And tears from my eyes

She possesses me.

Teeth in my heart

A knife in my back;

No resistance can stop her.

Crawling

The moonless night holds me

The ground is my bed

I'm falling....

Slipping....

Gone.

Sleeping the sleep of the dead.   

 

Scooter Out. 

Stone Walls and Barbed Wire

Upon reading the title of this blog, you probably think it has something to do with prison or jail.  You're wrong.  Stop assuming.

When I was 2 years old, I had my heart broken for the first time... My dad left.  He went away and I thought it was something I'd done.  He swore he'd come back for me, and never did.  I didn't see him again for another 2 years.  But I waited for him... 

When I was 8, my grandmother died.  I didn't know she was even that sick until she was dead.  

When I was 16, my first love blindsided me with the first taste of romantic heartache that I'd ever felt.  Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess for a while after that.

Shortly after that, I was in a severely abusive relationship with a guy because I was trying not to be gay.  I was at the height of my depression and self mutilation.  Once I he cracked a few of my ribs with his truck, I broke things off with him.  I still have scars on my face from that.

I've been broken up with and cheated on and hit and screamed at and called every dirty mane in the book by people who have claimed to love me.  

I've also grown very accustomed to seeing my mother and step-father screaming at each other.  So I haven't exactly had the greatest of examples in the relationship department.

Lately, I have found myself on the doorstep of what I'm terrified to even think of.  I met a woman.  She is beautiful, smart, funny, strong, and overwhelmingly sexy.  We have so much in common it's not even funny.  She gives me butterflies.  But I'm so terrified to even attempt to cross the line into a relationship.  I like her, but she's WAY out of my league...  I'm so afraid of being hurt again.  I honestly don't know if my heart can take it.

I'm almost 23 years old.  I'm ready to find The One.  The person I'm going to spend the rest of my life with.  I'm ready to settle down.  Ready for that True Love.  Yet, I'm so bloody jaded, that I can't bring myself to consider another relationship.

I want more than anything to find someone who has the determination and the love for me to bring down the stone walls and barbed wire around my heart.  I don't really know how to let people get close to me.  Everyone I've ever let close has either left or died.  I know the whole dying thing happens, but it's still shitty.

I want to let this woman close to me, truly I do.  But I honestly don't know how, and I'm so afraid of being hurt that my brain keeps saying "Is it even worth the risk".  My heart wants so much to believe in this woman.  To believe that she could maybe be the one to bring down my walls.  But what if she's not up for the task?  I'm not quite sure she knows what she's getting into with me....  But she seems confident.  And she seems to like me, too.  :)

What on earth can I do to conquer this insane fear of mine?

Scooter Out.

How To Tell When Scooter Has Had A Shitty Day

It never ceases to amaze me how the woman who has known me since I was still swimming around in her uterus can't seem to grasp when I've had a bad day or when I'm in a bad mood.  

She seems to think that if I don't talk a lot, or I yell at the dog to shut up when she's been barking for 2 hours non-stop, I'm automatically in a bad mood.  That's not true.  I'm not particularly verbose anyways... At least not at home.  I learned long ago that talking a lot at the house is a bad idea.  

My mother and I are too different to have conversation that doesn't include yelling.

Anyways, I decided to make up a little list for my devoted blog followers so you don't end up on the wrong end of my temper.

Top Five Ways To Tell That Scooter Has Had A Shitty Day:

• I come home from work with either alcohol, ice cream, or both.  Stress eating at its finest to me means a pint of ice cream and a cheap bottle of wine.  When you see these things in my hand as I enter the door after work, you might want to steer clear of me for a while.

 

• As soon as I get home, I retreat to my bed or my shower.  Either of those mean that I'm trying to relax.  When I need to relax, it means... I'VE HAD A BAD DAY!!!!

 

 

• If I tell you that I've had a bad day or that I'm in a bad mood.... Guess whaaat???  

 

• If I petition you for sex.  I normally don't behave in such a manner.  But when I'm stressed the fuck you, I WILL maul you with my vagina.  I have no qualms doing so either.  So if I offer, you better jump on board and prepare yourself for the wild ride you're about to take.  You may not be so lucky to be exposed to my awesome snatch again.

• Did you just TELL me that I'm in a bad mood???  Well, guess what... I AM NOW AND YOU'RE IN MY FUCKING WAR PATH!!!!!

So.... Now you know.  Any of those warning signs means that the volcano is close to eruption and evacuation is probably the thing you want to do if you value your life.

 

On the upside, after half a bottle of wine, things become funny again.  After the whole bottle.... I feel warm, fuzzy, and desire human contact.  Usually in the form of sex.

 

 

 As of right now.... Things are funny.  I think I need to dig deeper into that bottle...

Scooter Out.

 

What Movies and Books Have Done To My Brain

I love to read.  I like to watch movies, too, but not quite as much.  Through the years, I've read some fantastic books and seen some amazing movies.  But some of those books and movies may or may not have warped my fragile little mind

Let me elaborate...

Harry Potter has been making me wish that I were a witch since I read the very first book at age 9.  

Twilight made me wish I could run super fast and be super strong.

The Hunger Games made me want to learn to shoot a bow.

Reading Sherrilyn Kenyon novels.... Honey you don't even wanna know what that makes me want...  If you wanna know, read her books.  I HIGHLY recommend them.  

 

Then there are various other books and movies I've read throughout the years.  If I had all the wishes that I wished from reading, I'd have an ass-load of amazing abilities and powers and all the sex I ever wanted.

I've often wondered if other people have this problem, or if it's just those of us who read excessively or watch movies or whatever the case may be.  Is it a girl thing or an active imagination thing?  Or is there just something a bit....off....in my brain?

Sorry if this kinda stupid.  I'm just off on a bit of a tangent right now.  :P

Scooter Out.

I'm The Sober One Having Fun!

First off, I'm not dead.  I took a bit of a hiatus because my life went to Stress Level 11.  No offense to my rabid readers.

So, I wanna talk about alcohol, yet again.  It's been suggested by a few people my age that because I'm not your normal 22-year-old drunken party animal, that I'm a stick-in-the-mud.  Well, I assure you I AM NOT!!  I will go out and dance, both on floors and on tables and be completely sober!  What can I say... Table dancing is fucking epic.

 

By the way.... Fair warning, this is going to be a GIF heavy blog.  :P  AND I DON'T OWN ANY OF THEMMMM!!!!!

Anyways... Multiple people have tried to get me drunk.  Or even tried to get me to smoke pot.  Let me just throw this right out there.... I have no desire to be puking my guts out and feeling like shit the next morning because I decided to drink half my weight in whiskey.  I love whiskey, and I do drink, but I exercise control.  Lots of it.  Except when it comes to sex....  

 

And, no, I've never smoked pot, either.  I'm neither Cheech, nor Chong.  I'm Ella.  And Ella doesn't desire to smoke pot.  I've smoked 3 cigarettes in my life, and I hated it.  It made me smell bad and made me nauseous and gave me a headache.  I won't even go down the road of the coughing fits.  So I decided that it was SO not worth the damn trouble.

Let me kinda go back and explain why I don't drink that much....

I come from a long line of alcoholics.  I have an addictive personality so I just don't feel the need to cross that line.  I'm already crazy enough.  Let's not add a drinking problem to that, okay?  Thanks!

I have a friend that was slipped a roofie in a drink that some guy bought her in a bar.  Thank God she had enough sense to call her sister to come get her instead of going home with that creep.  I feel a "you could have been dead in the ditch" speech coming on here.... That I think I'll skip.  You all get it.

One of my best friends in high school was gay.  VERY gay.  He's the reason why there is now a written rule at my old high school that states that male students can't wear make-up.  He was dating a soldier a few years back.  Well, this soldier was VERY in the closet.... Thanks to that whole "Don't Ask Don't Tell" bullshit.  Thanks, Prez.  I owe you one for that. Anyways, the soldier's friends found out.  They waited outside the bar where my friend did drag shows on Friday and Saturday nights.  They grabbed him, drug him into an alley, and brutally beat him to death.  They were all drunk.  What did they get?  A dishonorable discharge from the military and 5 years in prison each.  Gotta love the American judicial system.  Sadly, back then, that didn't qualify as a hate crime.

I've been hit by enough drunk males.  Period.

So, I have my reasons.  I don't care if some people think I'm lame or dull or whatever.  I know I'm not, so fuck them and their stupid opinions.

And if you don't know me well enough to know that I'm not boring, ask the people I've shared a bed with...  Or who has seen me dance on a table...  Or has gone to a bar with me.  Lol.  I'm only boring at work, and I get paid to be that way, so I can do it.  It's hard, but I can do it.

So for those of you out there who don't drink or don't drink much, YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!  You've got to stand for something, or you'll fall for anything, so stand up for what you believe in, even if you're standing alone.

Besides, if you're on my blog, then you're among friends.  :)

Scooter Out.

America: Land Of The Free And Home Of The Offended

So... I thought I would use the excuse of our nation's birthday to mention that political correctness is kinda fucking us up.  At least... That's what I think.

The First Amendment gives all Americans the right to free speech.  But as political correctness grows and grows and more and more people become offended over trite things.  To me I suppose it doesn't matter if someone calls me "white" or "caucasian" or whatever the fuck else you can call a white person.  I know what I am and I really don't give two shits what other people call me.  But, then again, that's just me.

I'm not saying that it's okay to insult people. I'm just saying that it's silly to dwell on whether or not someone is "black" or "African American". (side note - I think an "African American" is someone who IMMIGRATED DIRECTLY TO THIS COUNTRY IN THEIR LIFETIME from Africa.  Just like an Irish American is someone who immigrated from Ireland.  Or any person who came to this country from another.  Period.)

You can't say anything without offending someone.  You can't say Merry Christmas.  Now it's happy holidays.  Why?  Cause not everyone celebrates Christmas.  You can't say Happy Birthday, cause there are certain religions where people don't celebrate their birthdays.  You can't say black or Indian, or Mexican or gay or poor or rich or any other damn thing that might rub one person that wrong way.  This country has become so caught up with the petty bullshit, that we've forgotten what originally made our country great.  Helping each other.  Loving our fellow man or woman.  Fighting for a common cause to grow and be, not the country that most other countries can't stand, but the one that others strive to be like.

We've lost sight of the most important things... That All Men Are Created Equal.  ALL.  Not just this group or that group.  ALL.  All citizens of this country should be given the same rights.  The right to marry and grow as a family and worship whatever god they feel is there without that fear of someone saying "oh, no honey!  You're wrong!  This is MY way and MY way is the ONLY way and I'm right and if you don't do this then you'll face an eternity in HELLLLLLLLLLL."  Well, fuck you too, then.

 

 I just don't get all the whole politically correct shit.  I really really don't.  Not a bit.  Oh well.  Perhaps one day someone will actually give me an explanation that makes sense.  And doesn't involve the words "oh well this person or that group of people might be upset or offended if you do this or say that."

Scooter Out.

Work, School, And Sleep: The Loss Of A Life

I'm not dead!  I know it's been a minute since I last entertained the cyber universe with my wit and sarcasm.  My apologies. 

 

Anyways.... See what had happened was this.... I went back to school.  And that whole new position at work thing?  I'm averaging about 45 hours a week.  I go in at 7:00am and leave around 5 or 5:30pm.  Then I go to school, go straight to school, do not pass GO, do not collect $200.00.  After class, I'm so tired that I can barely haul my sorry carcass home before I crash out in my bed.  Then I get to do it again the next day.  That's generally my schedule 4 days per week.   Fridays I don't have class and I usually get off work early.  Weekends are spent catching up on neglected chores.  My life is fucking EPIC.

I suppose I should stop making excuses for my lack of blogging.  Predominantly because I'm out of them.  

I'll try to get better about my blogging.  I wouldn't want to deprive the world of my awesomeness for too long.

Scooter Out.