Obsessive Thoughts Is Like Fucking Your Mind’s Asshole With A Cactus

Goal: A Peace Of Mind

Every day is different. I’m listening to Dash Berlin. Fucking emotional as hell and love it. I just got home, same old shit as last night except today, my mood has been elevated because of the phone interview. I think it went well. After I hung up the phone, it was a little awkward and my gut feeling was, I think I’m in. Then questions started to arise because she didn’t give me a date for a face-to-face interview. She said she has to screen some more people but she will give me a call early next week or the next week after that. That seems shady to me even though the interview went well. Initially when I first started this application, I didn’t think they would even consider me because it was a long shot being that I live in the shitburbs and it was all the way up in Seattle. And I got excited about it and then I stopped and thought about it some more and don’t want to move there because I will miss my boyfriend but he’s sweet enough to do the long distance relationship thing and he said it’s only two hours away, but still. Dash Berlin is so emotional. Okay, my mind is racing again. I tell you what I feel right now. I’m bitter. Yes. I’m bitter because the gut feeling is telling me that I have a good feeling about it and then after a while, my gut went the other direction thinking that I might have set myself up for disaster at the end but I keep comforting myself that I did write a thank you note for the phone interview. I’m just hung up on, will she call? It seems really shady. So now I’m doing the whole fucking waiting game just like I did for my former employer except they really did a great job giving me false hope. So for this one, I’ll have to treat it the same way because I can’t let my heart break anymore. I’ve had enough of it. I work so fucking hard, and all this crying and hoping is just hurting me more. …Let the rain clouds come… I think I’m going to paint tomorrow while listening to music. That’s all I’m going to do tomorrow. I’ll just fucking paint all fucking day and listen to Dash Berlin. I don’t know. The interview was long, tedious… and I’m angry right now because I’m stressing over if they’re going to call or not because they did not put a set date. And should I call them two weeks from now? She did say that there’s another batch coming in but we’re going to screen some more right now and she said, “We’ll see where it goes from there.” She was just trying to figure out how to get me up to Seattle. I told her I would drive and that’s when she said, okay, you will hear from me. Well, I was already spacing out so I don’t know word for word. Now, because I have OCD, I’m fucked again. I’ll be mind fucking myself in the ass over and over and over again for the next two weeks thinking if she’s going to call, did I get the interview and then after that, do I move or do I stay? So for the next two weeks, though I wish I could bank on it, I’ll have to keep applying for jobs but this JOB? This job that I just had an interview for? It’s the most perfect job FOR ME. I fit its qualifications and I fucking hope that my answers don’t hinder their decision for that because I did my best. But then again, if they don’t pick me, then I’ll just have to fucking move on fast. FAST. Block all that shit out and move on. But I tell you, it’s the job for me. Before the interview I was stressing out and had an anxiety attack so I had to take some muscle relaxants to calm me down and I actually enjoyed the interview. It made me feel like I was in Seattle again and I got hyped up to go back home. So now I want to go there regardless if my boyfriend is here or not. Like I said, I’m done caring if it’s him or the other or when or what. I’m done. I’m just done. Even though I said I gave up on happiness, look at me, I’m still trying to figure out a way to find happiness. It’s not my choice. I don’t care about happiness. It’s a peace of mind. I will never rest. I am restless. And that is why I am the way I am because when I was a kid, I never had peace. Peace was never born in me because my mom tore it away from me. She showed me comfort for one second, of what I can remember and the rest was gone. She had the best intentions but she kept leaving me and coming back and promising me we will be together very soon and she’ll never leave me ever again. And now, at fucking 32, when are you going to call? Will you really call for an interview? I have PTSD you know. MaryJane would be nice but I have better shit than that. The past week, I have been crying, sobbing at night. I don’t know if my neighbors can hear it, and I really hope they can’t. It’s embarrassing but I can’t help it. I wasn’t really like this before because I lived with my husband so I had that companionship and company every night but even then, we were already having issues and I was really lonely. That’s why I write. That’s why I’m always online. Before I met my husband, I was alone throughout College. The first 2 years, I was with my boyfriend and we practically were living together. It was perfect until I fucked it up. My brain, my illness, it’s a curse. It hurts. It’s unfair and yet I fight and sometimes, I don’t know WHY I’m fucking fighting so hard! Why? Forget happiness. I want a peace of mind. That’s my goal now. At 32. After he and I were done, I had another year all to myself but I was still manic so being alone was covering the loneliness and the longing for companionship. I was 22. I wanted to start dating different guys and see what that was like but then an angel swooped me up and swooped up my life. My husband did. It’s a long story for another sob day. We’ll see how long I’ll be typing tonight. I have a lot on my mind and if I start fucking crying, I’m going to pop klonopin coz it’s exhausting me. I’m so tired in the morning. Keep on chasing demons… then let me in… *piano*… disarm yourself… release the fear… disarm yourself…. And hold me near… and i.. My point? I did have a low point in my life. It was when my boyfriend and I broke up because of my mania. I had no clue what I was doing but I just kept doing it. I was going through the motion and the high just made me go higher. When he left me, I was suicidal, you know how it is. Chemical imbalance in the brain causes that shit. If you’re in your right mind, no matter how sad you are, you wouldn’t dare cut yourself or kill yourself. You just need the right meds. But I wasn’t at that time. I wasn’t diagnosed. I sat on the floor listening to Stevie Wonder’s songs that he bought me on a cd and I just kept crying and hoping and praying. I used to pray every single night and I would light a candle and  pray. I even went to church and never missed a day because I prayed for Christmas to have him back. I’m not giving up. I’m not giving up on us. I said I’m not giving up. I’m not giving up on love. Yup, I’m pumped up right now. This music is getting me all pumped up. And it’s nearly ten in the evening. You know what I’m going to do after this? Cry. Who knows. I’m going to pray and I pray sincerely and truthfully and then there is that confusion of this “thing” where my thoughts run through and I think of my husband and the church but it’s his family that stops me from trying to go back. Plus, even if I did, I don’t think it’s the right time. I’m not ready yet. Is for you to see… the side I don’t show that anyone… alone and incomplete…. No more tears to cry, no more blood to bleed… I fall forever… when you should be the ground beneath my feet…So, that’s another mind fucking obsessive thought for you. I’m tired of this shit. Him or him if not then him or him. Ayoko na! Whatever. Que Sera Sera. I’m just gonna’ listen to Dash Berlin and fucking vape… that’s what got me to stop smoking. It helps. I don’t even need it right now but I feel pumped up right now. I feel very awake, very awake… I guess this blog is just about emotions. I can’t stop thinking about the job interview. It was tedious and even though it was thirty minutes, it was a fast blur and I had more to say but I didn’t want to be that chatty person on the phone and I was very nervous. I really want this job. So all this waiting? If I weren’t so damaged, I’d just go about my day and that’s what I’m going to try and do tomorrow. Apply for every fucking job even if I’m not qualified anymore. What else can I do?! All the jobs that I’m qualified for are GONE and DONE and I even applied three times for the same shit because they were reposted. Waiting game again. I’ll worry for 2 weeks? Then I’ll research and google to see what’s up. I just hope she was able to see my email, respond back, and that would be nice but it’s hopeful  think.

I’m really irritable right now. That’s not good. I can’t go to bed feeling like this. Your brain needs relaxation before going to bed. I just want to lay on water and let Dash Berlin take me.

Today was my phone interview. It was long and fast. My gut feeling was I think I’m in and now, I’m starting to worry because she said she will call me and let me know. There was no appointment date and there was no date as to when exactly she will call. She said either this week or next week, then the following week is holiday season. I guess I will give them a call 2 weeks from now to see if she still remembers me. Closing the phone interview was a little awkward, I wanted to say more, but I didn’t want to take up too much of her time and I just hope that I answered everything, covered everything even though I wanted to say thank you and I look forward to receiving your call to set up an appointment date. I forgot to do that. My mind was not in its right place, but it had the best intention you know? It’s because I don’t want to move there but I wanted to do my best so I was shortly distracted but snapped out of it and answered the questions as properly as possible.

She asked me some questions that I couldn’t relate to but I would try and give her answers. She asked were there any policies that I didn’t like and how did I go on about it. I honestly didn’t have a situation like that because I agreed to everything they mentioned like showering and putting deodorant on. She laughed, so I think that’s a good sign. There were some confidential questions that needed answering and I wasn’t hesitant to do any of that as it was part of the job. I really wanted to say more. I feel like I could have done better, but I know it’s done. I feel like I’m on a high… I feel like I’m on a high… You and I! How do I make this obsession stop? Do you see? What’s worse, touching things a number of times or having intangible words swirling up your mind’s asshole fucking you over and over and over again? This is ridiculous. I guess that’s the plan.

That’s the plan. Let go. The phone interview is done. She didn’t give a date. You said your thank you email saying you’re looking forward to hearing from her soon and believe that this job fits like a glove for you. That’s all I can do. The rest is out of my control. All I can do is pray and if it’s meant to be then it’s meant to be, but to be honest with you, from one human being to another, I truly believe this job is PERFECT for me. When the vice president of my former employer said, “You’re better than sitting behind that desk. You’ll find a better job than here.” I didn’t believe him because I really loved my job and the people there. And then I come across a rare opportunity as this one where it was completely random on craigslist and at first, I didn’t want it and now I want it. So… from one human to another, this is what I want. I want this job. I want it so bad because it’s PERFECT AND A BETTER JOB. I would rather be poor and happy than be rich and miserable. Okay… I’m letting go now. I don’t expect back from them anymore even though she asked how to get me there and I said, “Oh I’ll drive. I’ll make the drive.” The gut feeling that is negative is because she didn’t get me a date and she said “We’ll go from there.” So I don’t know if she’s giving me false hope or not. But, *sigh*, I fucked it up. Time to let go. I have to make another decision. Yesterday, it was about my relationships. Today… letting go of a perfect opportunity that may or may not call me for a face-to-face meeting. I’ll tell you what though, it’s their loss if they don’t because I am a very hard worker and I do my job diligently, and quietly. It’s on my resume, it’s on my cover letter, it’s in my personal email and I have a prestigious reference letter. I’ve done all that I could. Now, how do I stop fucking my mind’s asshole with this shit. Just forget it. Keep looking for jobs. I’ll be looking at Portland. I’ll just keep going. But I won’t think about them anymore just like I did with my former employer. They’re finally gone out of my dreams.

Oh my favorite song is on. It’s also my husband’s song. It was really sad when he mentioned to me that this song was for me. You gone so long. Oh, and I waited. This is where I’m hurting. I’m torn! And I am not going to make a decision. I’m just going to let everything pan out by itself. I’m stressing too much over things I have no control over, so why bother? I’m not looking for happiness anymore. What will make me happy is if he’s happy and he’s happy. All I am looking for is peace… a peace of mind. An unquiet mind.

It’s almost ten… so far away… you gone so long…. Ohhh and iii, waited. Till that day… I take you home… know that I waited…. So fucking sad. Can you tell by the tone of my blog I’m so bitter? I’m grieving and I’m in the anger stage, I GUESS. Whatever. I’m going to just talk and pray… and then tomorrow, eat breakfast, I still gotta’ wash the dishes but damn it’s so cold in the kitchen that I can’t. my husband. My husband. My headset. My husband. This music. My husband. I know what’s going on, but I can’t do anything about it. We will see what happens. We’ll take it from there. I’ll never cry again… when you come home to me… I know these words. They are my husband’s…

Tomorrow, I eat breakfast, take my medication AND supplements, drink orange juice, figure out this laundry dealio. Shower. Take my laptop to the living room of our apartment complex for some Christmas spirit since there’s a nice couch, cable, Christmas tree. It’s like a sample of what an apartment would look like over here.–You know what? If I don’t get this job… I get to stay here and move in with my boyfriend. So there. Win-win. I’m going to apply for ten random bull shit jobs, contact ten people that responded on facebook about job opportunities even though I really want what I have going on for myself. FUCK. Get over it, kel. The phone interview is over. It’s OVER.

THE PHONE INTERVIEW IS OVER.

THE PHONE INTERVIEW IS FUCKING OVER.

GET OVER IT.

MOVE ON.

…move on. Block it out and move on. You’re not here for happiness anymore. You just want a peace of mind. I don’t want happiness anymore. I don’t want to look for what makes me happy because fuck, I’m 32! What now?! If I’m not happy now, what’s the fucking point? I just want a peace of mind.

I just want a peace of mind, ok?

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