Toxic Psycho Bitches

Haven't slept. These last few days I've been sleeping, what? 2 hours total?

Losing weight: lost 6 pounds this week. Down to 114 lbs.

It's funny. Isn't a girl who's drinking supposed to be gaining weight? And I'm eating meals, and not puking them up, either ... well, not often, that is.

In group, we had a supermodel leader, and she kept losing weight, even following her dietician's advice. So her dietician, who charged her $4000 gave her her money back and said, 'I won't take your money anymore if you don't go to group, This is not your diet: you're thinking yourself to death." It was Donna, right, the super model.

I hate it when people tell me stuff, 'cause it gets into my head, and it never goes away.

I wonder how many girls are jealous of me right now? I'm thinking weight loss. Marvelous.

I'd like to blame toxic psycho bitches: wanting to fix me or fix their gfs, always so sure that they are right, as they spew shit right out of their mouths all over me. I keep running into them, insinuating themselves into my life, looking so sweet and vulnerable, so talented and so filled with potential, and then ... and then they start working on me, right from where they are in their cesspool, so I'd love to blame them.

I even have a quiz:

You might be a toxic psycho bitch if:

1.

... etc.

But there are tons of self-help books out there already, making tons of money off of the toxic psycho bitches so 'wanting' to change, to better themselves, to be happy, and then they start right in on everybody around them, sabotaging those they can, so at least they can blame other people for their own unhappiness.

Sounds rather like the beginning of this post, eh, `phfina? Yes.

So I won't blame anybody but myself. I'm responsible for who I allow into my life and how I allow them to affect me. If somebody wants to pour shit all over me, I could go use it as fertilizer, instead of wallowing in that shit, crying, can't I?

Yes.

Or I could say: Warning! Danger! Toxic psycho bitch on approach! and steer clear, finally, instead of getting sucked right into the melodrama of their lives, paying the full price of interacting with them, where they pay nothing. Oh, they may pretend to be suffering, but they are made of stern stuff, they can dish out guilt and wallow in pain with the best of them, and then ... AND THEN come back for second helpings, as long as you are willing to play their power-trip game.

YEUCK!

AND then, clear indicator they ask me, why have I stopped writing?

Why have I stopped writing? Hm, how many pages did I send your way today, sweetie, responding to your, what? three emails this last hour?

They have no boundaries, too. None whatsoever, if they aren't crawling under your skin, then obviously YOU have a problem opening up. And as soon as you open up, what happens? "Oh, this is what's wrong with you, and that's what's wrong with you, and ..."

GAH!

I should have learned after Kate how it is, how she opened up to me, bringing me to her 12 step, so I would open up to her, so then she could dominate and control me, if not from the top (as much as she tried) then from every way possible, struggling, screaming, slapping, humiliating ...

She was an amazing fuck, however. A-maz-ing. Toxic psycho bitches seem to have that ability: they fuck SO good, it's like, hard to leave them for your sanity's sake, because they have you enslaved to their ability to cum and to make you cum, any time, day or night. They DO get into your head, so they know what you like, they know your insecurities, they know every single erogenous zone on your body (easy for me: every part of my body's an erogenous zone), everything.

They get into your head, because they try to get into your heart, and steal it. And eat it, because ...

Because they've been so unloved, for so long, they can't believe it's possible, and when you try to do it, they are so, so, SO grateful ... for a while, and then they start seeing you don't really love them, because you're just like their mom or their dad, or their brother or their first boyfriend or first girlfriend, who raped her, or beat her, or dominated her, or ... whatever.

And that's the draw: they so need your love, you feel compelled to love them, and then you get sucked in, for as long as you can last, longer even, in some relationships, and then you're another casualty, another piece of evidence for them that they aren't the problem, you are, and then they go to the next person, after they've used you up and eaten you, and they do the same thing, over, and over, and over again until they die.

No, I don't know how Kate's doing ... she hasn't called my mom in a while, asking after me. I hope, I really hope she's doing well, and recovered, and in an healthy relationship, or happy on her own.

Are you a toxic psycho bitch?

Easy question to answer. Look in the mirror (can you?) and ask yourself, are people better off because of you, or are you the life-force suck in the group, so people avoid you if they can and avoid you if they can't (by opting out of being there when you corner them). Do you talk behind people's back? Sowing poison in other people's ears, so that you build a case out of a person YOU picked to be with? Do you try to limit somebody? "You can't do that; you shouldn't do this. You know you're not that good. You'll wear yourself out!" Or do you encourage somebody to take a risk with their life, and live.

Do you put yourself in the person you're talking to? Or do you get frustrated with them, because they are not doing what you want them to do?

You know, this is all my fault. I'm making myself sick, and it's because I broke the rules. I should have just responded to reviews, and not ever given out my email, and never, ever, never have gone on fb. And not even accepted PMs. I should have just written my stories, and should have just kept writing them, even now, but instead of writing about angst and melodrama, I'm living it.

It's good writing material, that's for sure. Thanks for that, toxic psycho bitches.

And under that layer of toxicity, there is a little girl, wanting to love, and be loved.

And I love her, that little girl. I'm an idiot, yes, but I love her. I love you, and I want you to be happy.

Can you pretend? Can you dare? Can you ask yourself, where is my happiness? And go in that direction? Dig yourself out of the mire you created for yourself (you did, honey, not anybody else. Somebody did something, yes, but that's in the past now, you're a big (little) girl, so put the past in the past, and deal with the now). Reach up, not to pull somebody beneath you so you can drown them with you, but reach up, and pull yourself out of this shit, and look at the sunlight, and the trees, and the people, and the city, and the lake, and breathe in and smell the freshly baked bread, and hug mommy, hug her tightly as she hugs you and she whispers, 'I love you, sweetie,' and know that she really does, and feel loved.

Just for one second today. Just smile, for one second today.

And then journal that. "I smiled today." And that may be your only entry for today, but, honey, you won. You can look back at that entry and know that on May 15th, 2011, you smiled.

You know what I'm going to do now? I'm going to submit this entry, then I'm going to go to bed, and then I'm going to sleep, deeply. And tomorrow I'll wake up. Today was cold and rainy (loved it!), ... actually, that was yesterday. Today will be what? A bit warmer? Okay, I'll keep to the shade, and go out, and be among people, and see them go about their lives, and see that there is life out there to live.

You know how hard it is to confront yourself with the ugly truth, instead of keeping up that stream of sweet, polite lies that nobody believes except the one person you've deluded into believing, that is: you? It's impossible. Until you get square with yourself, and admit: 'hey, I've been lying. I've been making people's lives around me miserable. I'm a really vicious evil bitch! God, how can anybody stand me and my [whatever you use to use people, like sick sweetness, or cold shutdown, or whatevs]"

So hey, there you are in all your ugly glory. Wasn't that hard to (finally) admit to yourself, now, was it?

Yes, it was. I understand. God, I do.

But then what? You see what you are and where you are. Happy with that? Yes, you have been so far. So, but ... why not try something different for a change. It's going to feel really weird (I know this, too), but then, WOW! somebody smiled, genuinely, because I wasn't cooping or manipulating or intimidating or dominating, but I was just with them and they were just with me, and hey, that's scary and strange but it actually was fun.

Well, I'll be.

And you can try that, if you'd like.

But whatever floats your boat. Me, I'm going to go boating with people who want to sail, not with those who blame me or the waves or the air or the boat for their miserable condition in life.

Okay, I do get that some people do get seasick, and somehow that's all my fault for taking them out on a boat, when they had full mental ability to say, 'no, thank you,' from the day WE started planning that trip TOGETHER. I do get that.

So go out driving in your sweet new BMW, or paraglide or pick flowers, or paint flowers, or have a nice lunch out, or ... whatever.

Be happy. Honestly happy. And if you find that you have to push people around to be happy, give that a break for a day, and go off alone, and see how keeping your own company out on the beach or at the museum or wherever isn't all that bad after all and actually is rather pleasant.

STOP LYING to yourselves. STOP analyzing and over-thinking everything. You're only killing everything around you with your sharp, cynical wit or your vainglorious righteousness. Act, and give the world some room to act with you.

You, you toxic psycho bitch, may actually be surprised how wonderful joy actually feels. You may actually find it's nice to come out of your cautious shell and live, and not 'live a little' but actually live, experience, breathe, feel, and be.

It's not about you, honey, your happiness. And it's not about them, particularly if YOU think you know what's best for them.

What is it about? It's about nothing. It's about clearing your head, and just being, in the moment, there, happy, and why? because even though there are 27 million things going on right now, and all of them not according to your plan, you are making the choice to be happy.

Your choice.

I love you. Good night.