Exasperated

It's like I'm allergic to anger. I wish I could identify my emotions better, in the moment of having them. I always feel like I can't bring up my gripes with men. With anyone, really. I shut down or avoid... How do I fix it? How do I fix myself? Do I need saving? 

💚 is the only thing that calms me down. Doesn't last as long as a gummy... That's why I like to smoke. Takes the edge off. And I'm not a wake and bake person... It's just nice to unwind time to time. 

I want to work on anger...but with safe people. I want to work on direct eye contact in intense moments. 

Not with some dude who sees my good-mother energy and they're attracted to that. "Falls in love with a strong woman?" Is that your kink? ... NOT my bag. I don't want to ever be my partner's mommy. *Audible gag that means vomit is coming* than an equal partner. Why would I ever? That connection of idolized incest is disgusting. 

So I've looked up my surname here in Ga... It's rare. Anyway, there's a dentist on the super NW outskirts of ATL and he resmbles Brother if Brother had off-set eyes... Just.... Off. Different name, but ....I've never wanted to look at my partner and aesthetically, they remind me of family. Gross. 

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I still remember when my father would get yelled at by Gertrude. He'd always bow his head like he knew exactly why he was in trouble. That fake shame. That tucked tail between his legs. "Look I look sorry and pathetic, please don't yell at me, Baby. [excuse excuse excuse].".. But he wanted to shut us up...(He had taken me, Brother, and a friend of Brother's, out to eat at a fast food establishment, ~2007. Gertrude was apparently making dinner at home and ripped Dad a new one. I was still in ear shot...  She hates cooking. Her food reflects it, unless it's carrot soup)... But if he knew he'd be so immasculated in front of me... I wonder what he wished I saw, instead. 

Whenever G was going at our collective juggulars, I kinda wish he would have stepped in between us and stated, "don't talk to my girls like that" ...we just always had to do what she said... And I never liked her. She refused to see me or Sister. How we were "supposed to act" came from a book written by an old white man, an "expert" on teenage women. Gross. Why on earth would he have been an "expert?" ....never made sense. She was relentless and ridiculous. She was really good at Othering us. She just wanted Brother... We were worthless to her to keep up with, unless we joined the Katholic  We would storm off to our separate rooms to cry about different things. Now I wonder if Sister was sleeping? And I learned the art of silently sobbing... Bc if I sobbed too loud, either mother would bust open the door to yell at me to knock it off, making me burst blood vessels back then. .... I wasn't allowed to express my emotions, healthily.

Dad never not once defended me. Defended us. He never once stood in the face of danger, his wife, for our safety. Hisssssss children. She was offended we had always referred to our mom as our real mom. Lol like, grow up lady... Our feelings matter, we are not beneath you to serve you just bc you are our fathers wife ... Our real mom is still in our lives bc she was viewed as having equal time. ....zero research. I would loved to be prompted for autistic research in women so hit me up if you know me.... Broken homes, 101... He never developed his spine in his youth.... His sense of valor and those who deserve it... Not everyone will be impressed with what you thought was in order... That she was ok. That she could live on her own. That she was alright being so alone. But then, I had found a fun little company and felt like not-so-much-an-outsider, anymore. For the first time, I felt like I was on the same team; save the world? Simple, polite. Direct. Doing business growth adultier adult background stuff that small business owners have to do as they have a human processor make their product happily! Zone out and do something completely mundane? Yes. But I wish I spent home life social battery, at home, spreading out and nesting.... I wasn't allowed to do that here but good lord am I exhausted of moving. I've been moving every few years and I am exhausted ... Constantly recreating myself, never staying in one place. One by one people leave in your life so who would you like to have around you in the city that you love? I wish I had friends who could talk directly to me. I feel like ....I want to down size considerably, and move out of the country. I do not trust my body to be in that condition again.... I do not want to die. But I do not want to be made to feel I should sacrifice what little understanding of my life so far as an adult, and be able to keep building from here?... what I've done to rebuild. How do I know when I'm fucking up? Don't worry, I know. I turn bright red when I'm embarrassed. I wish I didn't ... I don't have the capacity to learn about much more, but I do crave a lot of why. I struggle with internally accepting help and I can't ask for it bc then others will keep telling me what I need to do... It's exhausting always having to think of lists... And doing them. ...over and over. Keep moving. I get so tired. I get so exhausted. I developed mine over the years, in spite. In survival. Like a babies developing patellas. But just recently myself. 

Maybe if I was shown how to be a respectful human being, being on the same team of oneself? How do I defend myself? How do I fight for myself if I was never shown? How do you do that when all three of your parents were horrible examples to follow? How do you know when you're fucking up. 

My father, the spineless simp for SkidMarx and G... narcissistic fetish? My mother (genX liberal) kept forcing me into some coding empire and I always hated that. I don't want to have a career in front of a screen... says the writer. Lol... My mother's glasses have left divets in either cheekbone. None of me wants that. 

G was a manipulative piece of Mean Girl bullshit "I'm better than you always" mentality. Nowadays, she never travels with Dad, btw. Unless it's the GC in Miami. When Dad actually makes time to come see us, "his girls" ...we have to schedule our lives for him. For why anymore? I'm glad Sister took care of the scheduling him like a toddler and playdates... But is he expecting us to care for him in his golden years? Lololol. 

I also loathe being lumped into the same thought as my sister. We are not one unit. We are two separate individuals. It is very difficult to struggle with that and try to get loved ones to understand. 

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He voted for SkidMarx. I should just text him: I stopped respecting you the moment you told me you voted for him. 

I'm done with trying to save my parents. 

They never learned to be on the same page with me. Really develop their listening skills and not try to fix shit all at once or try the devil's advocate ... Like, really really try to see multiple people's POV. I had never learned how to be on the same team until this job. ...saving the world... 

They never took the time to understand me. They never saw ME. They saw a person they wanted to hand a cookie cutter to and hope they figured life out, instead of providing tools that would've helped, a lot sooner. How could they? I was exhausted by the end of HS. No support. All I knew how to do is run away... 

Bc of joint custody, I had moved back and forth, my whole world constantly changing every 14 days, since I was 6. All the drama I recall that was important to me for survival was the immaturity of my peers at school. I wish I was diagnosed back then and learned these life skills back then...I wish I learned healthier coping mechanisms.... I wish I had been raised by mature adults who wanted me around and wanted to hang out with me. How do we hang out with people? How do I hang out with people now? 

My cohorts had been planning for their adult lives waaaay before 11th grade or whatever, unlike me. ... I had really no plan after HS. I just never thought I would get to 30 without getting to become a wife and mother, magically. But that was more propaganda and not "I believe you are meant for only these two uses". 

And now I'm here. I spent most of my 20s fixed on some idea that my one and only purpose was to find one man to fix my life and my life would be set. Lol cringey. I never realized I was so obsessed. It took a really bad relationship to realize what I really wanted... Respect? Decency isn't a kink, Snow... it's pretty basic... Lol

I was married and saved by a man who will treat me like a maid and caregiver to everyone.... ......."treats you like a queen?" How would you know? I was never taught how to be a Queen... My father's requirement for Crickets was to treat me like a queen... And I lost it. How TF would he know how to do that. I was Othered my entire life by your current wife. Convinced that I wasn't worth bothering with if I didn't join their little clubs of church. I'd rather be excluded for who I include than included for who I'd exclude. ....

Sister gets smaller and smaller with her views... She treats me like one of her kids ... She treats me like a child. It is annoying. I am trying my hardest to be an adult. And they constantly make me feel othered or less than... "why don't you go make your own family?", Dad said once when I was in my early 20s... 

Ok. I can't spend long times with her or BIL. He has unchecked anger and his emotions are everyone else's issue... It's really annoying being at their house bc it's very dysregulated. And disorganized. And dim. 

And they fart throughout eating dinner. Doesn't matter if it's Thanksgiving or just a regular Tuesday evening... It's absolutely disgusting. It's mostly why me and Crickets never wanted to hang out there. BIL is a dweeb. A real nice well-actually guy... 

He had met my sister at church a year after a huge traumatic time in her life (several years ago) and she was incredibly vulnerable and raw. She had not yet healed all the way, she was very skinny... She looked like a shorter Cher.... And Dad and G pushed her into this relationship bc she was following the formula, common core... "You'll be fixed and better off once you're married. Being married is the end all be all for a woman." 

BIL had initially thought she was 19. He was in his mid30s when they met. He approached her thinking she was half his age. It's really disgusting thinking about it. Anyway, he told it like it was a 1950s-meetcute...no. it was gross. I think they tried setting me up with their equally gross best friend who had never fixed himself enough for a woman to want him... Also has a flatulence issue while eating....

He's so gross. Ughhhh. Gross. Meaning he doesn't know how to please a strong woman? Lol k. No, please. Not my equal, emotionally.

I always felt my dad and stepmom always wanted me to fall back on becoming a mother and someone's wife. Continue the family lineage of ongoing generational trauma and pressure. I recall trying to fit into that narrow minded mold back in 2018 and I wanted to k*ll myself... So. Glad I stopped attending church. "I have gay Catholic friends" taunted Dad when I had informed him I was Queer. Ok, but would they consider you an ally? Probably not. Also, only other gays and queers can tell me whether or not you're an ally. Mom had told us that Dad was friends with all the gays in college, but that was the late 70s in New Orleans. Different times. Different places... Different people.

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I think I come from a very long line of rape... (*Savage Bastards*) My father likes to perform a story about his mother and one of our ancestors who is only referred to as "savage" on a marriage certificate from the mid 1600s up in Canada somewhere... 

It was disgusting... Especially as the father of the bride speech... Historically, contextually, that Bride was probably a child and was incredibly scared and afraid and shattered afterwards. I weep whenever I try to connect. I wish I knew her name. I pray for her peace. I pray that she forgives the sins of history... Doomed to repeat... 

And it stops with me. Quite literally. I may have sacrificed the only time in my life I could be pregnant and experience motherhood. To stop all this pain. I never asked to be raised this way... I never asked to be born. I never really could imagine Crickets slinging a diaper bag, ya know? That resentment grew and festered. We weren't correct for each other. I hope he is happier now, without me. I hope he's found real solid love. 

I wish G wasn't such a fucking narcissist. I wish she let us be kids instead of always the caretaker of the household... I was 10. I recall going to a babysitting class, learning to swaddle and change diapers before my little brobro was born... Have you met a 10 year old? Let them be kids!... They should have chores, yes. But they should be wanted and made to feel proud and defended... They shouldn't have to carry the burden of being in charge children or the disciplinarian.... parentification... Also, Mom.... Don't confide in us as peers... Depending on your children to regulate you is manipulation and emotionally abusive... They...mean us as kids... Didn't know better. How could we? We were children. That's how time works... And experience... 

I'm pretty sure autistic women start going through hormonal changes right around then... Annnnnd my stepmother was PREGNANT, too. A lot of pattern-recognition overload in order to anticipate threats and dangers, big contributing factor to current anxieties. 

G was an alright pregnant lady. She never depended on us for comfort. But she would depend on us to fuss over Brother and learn to care for another individual. We weren't allowed to be kids.

I remember overhearing once what she'd say about us to her friends on the phone... We would be freshly home from school, making a snack of cinnamon toast... She'd always have to inform us how much fat and sugar was in everything... so much for that self-esteem I was developing.../s. 

She'd be in the other room thinking we couldn't hear her for some reason? "It's like I take the time to train them and they leave for two weeks to unlearn everything. It's exhausting!...." ......and then our mother would say how much she hated G.... But then say shit like, "well she DID teach you manners" ...manners that are incredibly outdated. I wish I wasn't burdened with what was rude back in 1965 is basically speaking up for one's needs now... 

Both mothers wanted me to attend Finishing School. Lol. The person who gets to marry me will be the luckiest SOB alive. Lol. If I ever get married. I want to be secure and be dependable for another. I want to build something with someone who I can be respectful, not just be grateful. Someone I can confide in... What does that look like? Mutual respect? What's that even feel like? What other permissions should I give myself? 

There's so many piles of undone things... of undone to do lists.

How do you connect with another human being and still like yourself after? Boundaries. 

Who caters to the outcasts of THIS society? The Others. I have always seen beauty in Others. I was imprinted with strength by my first grandma, Velma. I recall hanging out with her in her kitchen a lot. I'd be coloring. She'd be cleaning or cooking and talking with her friends or my mom. The kids were outside entertaining themselves... With the goat. She was the neighborhood Grandma (most would've called her Auntie, or those Tyler Perry movies, Madea is the 2000's Earnest movies...)... 

I don't recall the words or their many meanings... But I always felt comfortable. I was safe. I was seen.

Even when I'd hang out with her on the porch and she took drags of a cigarette ("don't tell your mom" I recall her saying once. I think I was 3, and still not talking, yet"). 

She had always answered my questions with earnest knowledge and respected me as an individual. She'd give simple answers and was never sarcastic. She put very little on our shoulders... Maybe bc she knew we weren't blood related... I only had realized that difference when I kept remembering who Granna was. Granna was my grandmother, my dad's mom. I miss her sometimes. I wear her jewelry or her coral shirt whenever I miss her. I have my grandfather's blue cashmere cardigan. Makes me feel like Mr. Rogers. His matching blue neck tie. And that one plaid shirt he always wore. I also have a few of their books and family heirlooms... Pearls. Vintage handbags. 

I love fashion. I love the expression of structures and pairings. Game can recognize Game... I know I have style. I'm fabulous!

Urstyle doesn't work on my computer anymore. Idk how to fix it. Mom used to be my tech guy. 

Too many buttons. Too many things to remember. Too many steps. Too many....

Where was I? 

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So G was the type of white woman who would approach a random person on MARTA and ask them why she can't say the n-word. She wouldn't use the phrase, "the n-word"...like she had absolutely no respect for historical context. She views black power and black girl magic as racism. Lol... She's wrong. She truly believes that Affirmative Action is racist.... -_-..... 

She might feel left out? I'm not too sure bc I am projecting but it's more the thoughts of exclusionary hurt? White fragility?... I have that. It's uncomfortable after to realize you've been in the wrong for a long time. Smart people apologize. Smart people ask questions.

Believe me, I know what it's like to feel excluded... But my experience is incredibly small, narrow, micro... Compared to the oppression of a whole skin tone ... I haven't the experience on that mass scale. I am not part of that culture. And that's ok, however hard ... That's how history works... If you want change, be the change. I feel like I've always been on the outskirts of a group of good people. 

I hung out with a lot of inner city black kids in school ... But I didn't understand the drastic changes in life for us... How their days were mapped out compared to mine. I'm still really mad that my education was extremely white washed, more than I had thought.... I seriously recommend reading Caste, by Isabella Wilkerson.... It was an eye opener... 

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I think my mom would be heartbroken with this blog... But she supports my writing... I finally showed Dad my comedy set... But I think he thinks I'm going to stick with safe material. Lol. 

....you think THIS is raw? Lol cute.

I think my anger fuels my comedy... I think I got a lot to say. And I don't match anything of what people see when they meet me. What I'm capable of. But then I go home and fizzle out. Drained.

I wish had the technology-sevant-autism. I'd be a bit more well-off by now... But I was never that good with numbers. I just like to count... 

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10a on Thursday. I'm usually at work by now, but I was needed at the shop instead. I obliged. I'm closing. But I'm going to pack 2 boxes... And then I'm going to take a shower. Go get my prescriptions, and get my pedicure. And lunch. Really take myself out ... Actually, maybe I'll eat before I leave to save money. I do have food here. 

Edit. I packed 1 box, ate at home, took a shower, went to go get mahdrugs... And then went to work for my closing shift. 

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It's hard to remember all the good habits to do in order to function as a human being. I don't have the best capacity. A lot is always buffering ... Idk if I can live so isolated again? Why do I retreat so often? 

And before people act so surprised that I just can't piece my life together... Why would they be together? They aren't here... I stopped seeing them everyday... I don't mean to, but I forget people exist bc I am in my head trying to survive to the next day... I'm unable to plan longer outtings and plans.... I wish I could plan out things better... I wish to figure things out but I haven't a better routine bc this house has always felt temporary. Why set up a routine when the home is always chaotic? 

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I'm so exhausted. Alrighty, I think I'll set up Gravity Falls. I can picture it in my head while I do other tasks around the house. That's my autism. ;) I can listen to a movie I've seen before and I can watch it in my head while doing other things. Maybe A Knights Tale... Great soundtrack!!! 

....idk where I go when I shut down when someone else is angry at me ... I think I disassociate and I'm back in some other memory realizing it is never stable. Everything is to be mistrusted... ... 

I hold back a lot bc customer service doesn't include correcting people... Doesn't look/feel good and it doesn't really serve a good purpose. We can educate but never correct... It's a bit rude... But not 1965 rude.  I never want to channel G or Dad for anger.... They weren't healthy examples. Neither was Mom, for that matter. She yelled about everything ... And never apologized until much later in life... 

I wish she didn't yell at her apartment's maintenance people. She should double over the kindness... I think she is scared and lonely and not used to people listening to her. 

I wish she lived down the street, sometimes. I wish I had a home to fall back on... I don't want her to be so lonely. She'd also be closer to her grandbabies... 

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I'm so exhausted with moving. 

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Snow.