I'm very good at not talking about what's really going on. In fact, if you ever read any of my older posts you'll see that I mostly expound on frivolous things and the only time I ever come close to laying it all out on the line is when I'm high on Vicodin or rolling with the Xanax. Usually I'd rather talk about something else. Anything else. It doesn't even have to be something happy or positive so long as it's not momentous. John, on the other hand, is a blabber. John will tell anyone and everyone anything. No really. He will. Just ask him he'll be happy to tell you. Now don't get me wrong, I think it's great. In the beginning of our relationship it irritated the piss out of me and was the source of many a tantrum. But I've come to realize that his way is the healthier way. It's cathartic for him. Not so great for the person who has to listen to it, but it makes him feel better. We've also come to the understanding that he's the one who tells my parents everything and with the caveat that they are to ask me no questions. This makes them feel in the loop and releases me from any parental guilt. And what is guilt, people? Why, it's anger in disguise. And that is so not me. I'm more of an "anger standing on a bar stool flashing her tits" kind of gal. I like my anger obvious and unconfused.
So what is this all about? Why the blog-vomit?
This summer some pretty crazy shit's been going down. I've been seeing shadow people and our neighbor hung himself 100 feet from our front door and the weather has got me all discombobulated and now John's at the hospital because his nephew dropped a 365 pound dumbbell on his throat and very nearly died. And the only reason I'm posting any of this is to let everyone know that I just don't want to talk about it.
This stuff is happening, it's going on, but it's not mine and I don't own it and it's not my place. And for me to tell tales, no matter how fact laden my account may be... I'm sorry, it just still feels like gossip. Somehow blurting it all out lessens the severity and the emotional toll it's taken on those who actually live it.
Hey, I'm no martyr. I'm just a chick who knows precisely how shitty sadness and fear feel.