put your hand in mine
February 15, 2005 � 11:50 p.m.

Have I ever mentioned that I am prone to have tantrums?

Well�I am.

Not often, mind you. It takes me a long time to wind myself up to that point. The last time I had one, in fact, was the day asshole broke off our engagement with the only explanation being �I�m sorry.� (I�m guessing he was �sorry� for cheating and lying and stealing from me. He never did say exactly why he was sorry�the sorry son of a fucking bitch). When I threw my fit that time, I was alone in the house and suddenly I began to scream my head off and starting tearing through my room and demolishing what I could. I took my favorite ring off and banged it till it broke�ripped up some sketches that I had drawn�threw my favorite glass against the wall and shattered it�and then�amidst the glass and fluttering papers, I began stomping and kicking the shit out of my bed as I cried and screamed �Sorry?!?� over and over again. I throw a fit and fuck up MY shit instead of fucking up the things that push me to my tyrannical point. I�m like a rioter�fucking up my own shit even more when it�s the world that�s really the problem. That becomes clear once the fit subsides and I cry myself to sleep and then wake up later completely disoriented because during the first few seconds and blinks, I have no clue what�s happened or where I am. And then I remember. And then I cry and feel worse as I clean up the pieces of all my favorite things. Last tantrum cost me my fucking bed�and I pay for that shit every night.

It is my controlled chaos�so to speak.

Point is�I feel a tantrum coming on. I feel that rumble under my skin and that unexplained anger bubbling in my brain. I just can�t take it anymore. But who can I rage against�really? My mom for fucking making herself sick and driving me crazy? My co-workers who are just as stuck at that suck ass job as I am? At Adam for not being here? At Lola FOR being here? at my wallet for being empty? At time for passing so quickly and making me one year older�taking me one year closer to 30? Who that fuck can I seriously have a beef with beside myself?

Thing is�I don�t want to be 29 on Friday. I don�t want to be that old and this far away from where I thought I�d be at this time. When I was a teen, 29 was me out of school, working at either a woman�s counseling center or shrinking criminals in jail, a million miles away from mom, and raising my kid on my own. So college fell through�.mom is still being mom�then marriage fell through�twice�then the baby was a no go�three times. And here I am�fat, broke, and alone�the same thing I was when I was a teen making these dreams. How many letdowns do I have to cycle through before I finally have the beautiful breakdown I so deserve?

And I know I�m whining. I know people say �it could be so much worse�you could be doing so much worse�you�re one of the lucky ones�� blah blah blah. But fuck that. We all have our own personal Hell that we wallow in from time to time and this is mine. And I�ve been trapped in it for far too long now. And as much as I want to chew through my limbs to get free again, I don�t have the energy to do it anymore.

I DO NOT WANT TO BE LIKE THIS WHEN I TURN 29!!!!

I can�t explain it. VD started the slump�and then today, out of nowhere, tears just poured down my cheeks while I trudged through my work�another thing that hasn�t happened since the notorious break up. I just feel so�sad�and useless�and�trapped.

Maybe I�m just PMS�ing. Maybe it�s because Adam didn�t write me yesterday. Maybe it�s because I don�t have the money I thought I�d have to get my bed out and buy a new outfit and stuff for when I go out Friday. Maybe it�s because my mom is fucking working my nerves. Maybe it�s because I know neither that bitch Jen or Ben will bother to fucking wish me a happy birthday�when I was proclaimed by both to be their fucking soul mate. Maybe it�s because Swiz didn�t call and I know it�s done and it�s making me miss him 1000 more than I normally would. Maybe it�s just because I really am that petty that I am freaking out about turning 30 in a year.

Who knows.

I just know that I am really fucking sad and I don�t know why and I�m sick of pretending I�m otherwise. And that I am really dreading waking up Friday morning. And that I feel so alone. And that despite it all�I do realize and appreciate how lucky I am and how good I got it. And that I just want to find a way to be happy.

Why is that so hard for me?

****EDIT****

I am feeling a bit better thanks to three things....
The Dave Chappelle Show. It was the episode where he and John Mayer prove white people can dance and where he does a sketch of himself at 3 different ages. I realized how much I have grown since my Das Efx days. Though...I don't ever think I'll outgrow Das Efx.

I got a letter from Adam. Apparently one of his boys said I was beautiful and asked if I had any friends like me...Adam said, "It's not possible. She's one of a kind and I'm not letting her go...and besides, I'm the only she wants." Corny...but it really made me smile.

And most of all...Lola. Every time I get done talking to her on the phone I thank God she is in my life. I guess I won't have to chew off a limb to get free after all...not when I have a friend like her willing to always brave through my hell to come and save me.

Thank you Lola...I love you, girl.
I can't wait to see how we are when we're 60.