Rantings of a Mad Woman

I wrote a song today. I wish I were more creative, but what I wrote seems decent enough. Once I learn to play my guitar I'll put some music to it.


I've been intensely lonely lately. It's like, John's in the house, but he gets fed up with me about nothingness, which causes me to feel like dog shit on the bottom of someone's shoe. And then I come back here to be alone, and after about fifteen minutes, he feels the need to barge in on me and check to see what I'm doing.
Last night I had to close pages of one of the forums I belong to before he noticed what it was. It sucks living with people who won't accept parts of your lifestyle, but when it's your own boyfriend... well, it's much harder. Not to mention that the girl he's got his eye on at Sam's thinks he's a fucknut. No, she didn't use those words, but once I confirmed our relationship to her, she told me I could do "much better." What, you think I don't know that? It's pretty fucking obvious. The guy's eighteen years older than me.
My problem is that I'm so unadjusted to the world that I don't know how to meet guys - or any type of friends, really. I've been trying to figure out how, but John doesn't have any input because he's afraid that if I make friends, I won't be around to be his slave 24/7, which I won't. However, I need people to drink with, I need to be around people MY age, who think about the same things *I* think about. I need friends who want to "cruise the strip" and not just talk about how they did that way back when.
Brad's stepdaughter (the oldest) is only like nineteen years old, and they let her drink as much alcohol as she wants. I'm almost twenty-one. Why don't I get those same privleges? Because my boyfriend loves to control anything he can about me. He pretends I'm his daughter, but he won't admit it. I think the guy has some serious incest fetishes. Perhaps that's just me being me though.

The suicidal tendencies have been getting worse. I've thought multiple times today about just grabbing that goddamned knife that I accidentally cut my finger with the other night and jamming it directly through my chest. This detox is driving me insane. But, until John decides to run to the store or go fishing or something by himself, I've got no chance to even GET any weed from Michael. And if I could have gotten over there two days ago, he wouldn't have been able to give me that bullshit story about how he doesn't have any. I smelled it on him when he came over asking John to fix his laptop for him.
I'm not a fucking idiot, so why does everyone keep assuming that I am? Is it because of my relationship with John? More than likely. I mean, let's face it, what young girl in her twenties wants to date some guy in his late thirties for THREE YEARS, only to be treated like utter shit? I could understand it if maybe he had money, but he's completely broke, and has been since I've known him. I just wish I wouldn't have spent so much money on him and his kids when that said money was supposed to go towards things for ME. I could have fucking moved out. I could have fucking DONE something with my life, but instead, when he decided that we should all buy expensive cameras, I went with it, rather than listen to him bawl like a three year old in the middle of the goddamned store. Did he even NEED the GPS I bought him? Hell no, he has one already. And he even made the comment that if I never got around to buying one for myself, the one I bought him would be MINE. So why is he telling everyone that it's his? Maybe THAT'S why Don doesn't want anything to do with us? He finally realized what kind of a jackass John really is.
And with the kids, oh my fucking god. I feel like strangling them half the time. I'm not ready for a fucking family. Yet for some reason, he finds it funny to leave me with the most destructive one who won't listen to me for shit, while he takes the other one fishing ALL FUCKING DAY. Who would fucking do that? And it's quite funny, because if he's not giving in to the little brat, he's trying to make up for lost time with the older little firestarter. DON'T YOU GET IT? They're BOTH your children, and you should spend time with BOTH of them. L is getting jealous, and you don't seem to even KNOW this because you don't spend enough time with him. But YET, you get mad at me when I try to discipline them. What? You WANT them to be little spoiled brats? Yeah, more work for Cora, right? I can see why she hates him, and I completely understand the unspoken hate for John that she has.
If he's not spending all of his time on his computer playing games, he's bitching about how you don't want to spend any time with him watching stupid television shows that you happen to HATE.
It's gotten to the point where I just don't want to be around him. I don't want to sleep in the same bed with him. I want nothing to do with him. And to be fucking honest, if I knew Michael would have me, I'd ask him if I could fucking move in. Not for a relationship, just to live somewhere WITHOUT John breathing down my fucking neck every two seconds. Let's face it, people need space. Even more so when you're smothering them every day. And when he's not smothering me, he's bitching about how "his house" keeps getting messed up. I'm sorry, but I clean up after myself. I even pick up after him. Still, with all the shit he brings home from work, it's a miracle there's space to walk around in this house. You want me to clean dishes in less than thirty minutes? Get a fucking sink that will actually DRAIN. THAT is the reason that there's still a giant box of dirty dishes from the other house. Because I wasn't around to clean them there, and now that the sink won't drain here, I have no way to clean them. Get the shit fixed, and THEN you can bitch about how it's not done when you want it done. That's another thing, if you want it done so bad, how about getting off of your computer game for a few minutes and DO THEM YOURSELF. Just stop treating me like the redheaded stepchild, and start treating me like your girlfriend.
And just for the record, I stopped caring so much about you proposing, because I've been thinking for the past two years that as soon as I can get the money, I'm leaving your sorry ass, and you'll probably never see me again. FUCK YOU.

On another note, I've been sicker than hell, but apparently that's not any kind of excuse why I can't get everysinglefuckingthing done around here in two hours.
I hate him.