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5:02 p.m. - 2004-01-17

How the days pass...

Today is Saturday. All day yesterday I believed it was already Saturday. I dont think My internal clock is ahead, just lagging a week behind.

Work has been taxing. Apparently some new Senior Vice President with napoleon syndrome walked into a store somewhere with white gloves and exclaimed why there was dust under all the cast iron in the store.

Lets analyze this shall we...

In a normal (enter name of store here) most of one side of the fitness deptartment is cast iron plates, dumbells or neoprene coated cast iron. Tens of thousands of pounds of dead weight. Four shelves high, around the entire wall. The first point Im trying to make is this: who the hell is going to move all those weights to even begin "dusting" under everything? Second point: There is one (1) employee staffing the deptartment after the holiday rush, and deep into fitness season. Who is going to do all the selling, loading, and orders when all that heavy iron needs to be moved? Third point: Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

Ive worked retail for over 8 years now. In a variety of stores, and locations with diffrent clientele, and merchandise being offered. If there is one thing I know, its customer service, not dustfree dumbells which bring customers in the store. I havent heard such talk since My last Commanding Generals Inspection in Lejeune. I know how to clean. Marines taught me well. And with the dust nazies running lose all the other employees management included are freaking out. I had to give some guidance to both or we will never get this done. Sometimes I know Im waaaay underpaid.

Yesterday despite the bullshit was special. My sister and I had scheduled a shopping trip for her car. She had wanted to not go alone looking for a cd player for her vehicle. During the drive we talked. Some of the topics were things we had never discussed before. I realized she suffers from alot of the same problems My whole family does. Some are as deep rooted from childhood and no one realized it. For My sister to even mention things only her and her husband should discuss proved she is indeed desperately looking for answers. Like Myself she said the same thing I said in My diary a short time ago. She wished she wouldnt wake up, or her heart would stop. Death was more joyful than her life is. I understood only all too well. My relationship with Jennifer is better than with My other family members due to the fact we think alike. So despite My troubles, that little "bonding session" meant alot. And if her husband doesnt stop being a dick, I will have a mercy killing to perform. I win either way.

Medicated and in therapy. Im speaking for My own personal family members. Two sisters, and a brother. Everyone of us, parents included have been to therapy at least at one time. Some more extreme than the others. We have had it so hard, it really shouldnt be surprizing that it is true. A family stricken with depression, and post traumatic stress victims. My whole fucking family. Its been said we must play the hand we have been dealt in life. But what if you didnt get dealt, and its 52 pickup instead? How do you know what its like to be normal when there is nothing to compare it to, but what you see other people taking for granted? Ive never had normalcy once. Living life from the outside looking in, freezing My ass off. Being picked last for kickball. Hearing the whispers as people make fun of you behind your back knowing damn well you can hear them. The teasing, being the target for all their unapparent insecurities, to only boost their own egos and be the popular ones. Im road gravel on the path through life sometimes. Only now Im too big, too smart, and too burnt to allow it to happen anymore that way. Im either overly sensitive and wear My heart on My sleeve, or Im like a rock. Beating the dead horse is what Im known for. Continually bitching about how fucking brutal Ive had it. Maybe I am one of the many who justifies his own exsistance through misery. I need to suffer even when I think all I ever want is to be free of it all. I am far too hard on Myself. We being our own worst critics see ourselves through special eyes. Unforgiving ones. Self sacrificing, regretful, and self destructive we eat away at the very things which make us who we are. Like tearing down a wall after building it trying to make it better, or just ripping it down, and weakening the whole structure.

Not speaking for Myself, but for those I know of, they seek the approval of others, love or affection of others just so they feel wanted when they cant have what they truely want. It seeems too distant, unfamiliar, or unattainable. Undeserving of something greater. Unworthy. I too have done similar things, in the denial portion of this truth. But Ive not settled for less. When I know I can love someone, Im in it for life, even if they fall away and leave Me. Thats one of many problems I suffer from, I dont know how to let go, walk away, or forget. I love too deeply, completely to ever release them from My heart. So when they go.....I die each and everyday. Blame goes nowhere else but on Myself as always. A vicious cycle of mistakes. Ones I "could" have changed but didnt due to demands elsewhere. I lose what I have gained. I always lose. So far I have nothing to show for all the effort Ive put forth. I wish I did.

I realize being a Sadist with a concience might seem contradictory. Even false. Fuck you. I look deep into Myself and I see why the things I say make sense. How I see the things around me, and the way I live around the people around Me. I feed off of fear, and off of kindness. I get less kindness, than I do fear.....and it has its effects. The outcast is forced to be alone. Think on his own, become self reliant needing nothing from the whole. Even when I was in the military I was accused of being "abrasive" or antisocial by My superiors because during mealtimes I wouldnt sit with anyone. How the fuck could they know that that was how I protected Myself? I was forced to shut Myself away to avoid being hurt more, to hear the things they would say. Pity, table for one. And I wasnt about to tell them who I was. It wasnt their business. I swallow alot. More than I should of bitterness. probably one reason I am so hard on Myself. because everyone else was. I thought being called ugly, stupid, loser....was true. After all so many people cant be wrong. You begin to believe it as the truth. I cant take compliments. I deny them. I always will. Few people have seen the real Me. To give to them what I have hid from others, and denied to Myself takes alot. It leaves Me defenseless. Thick skin, armor or not Im vulnerable. They didnt know they could hurt Me, but they did. Unknowingly, and for the most part, accidentally. There was only one I know for certain betrayed me so terribly its after effects will never be known. I am scarred forever. But I hopefully learned from it, despite the suicide attempts......tears, and self loathing. I used to bury hurtful feelings all My life. its only been the last 4 years which have opened me to a new reality. Nothing in the Marines could have prepared Me for the misery I would endure these past years. Nothing. So more often than not I am raw, numb, and searching for Myself. My hole ever deepening becomes all I can see somedays. I cling to the little things more than ever. Memories and My little rituals are all I have left. piecing together a live from such things is daunting. Frightening. I am scared. I am alone. And even just typing the word "alone" brought My eyes to glisten. The truth hurts, as much as it can set you free.

I dont know what Im doing right now. I also dont know what I need. Merely hoping something will happen is purely romantic hope. Why do I have to be the one who remembers? Why cant I.......have what I want? I dont ask much.....I really dont. Ive tried so hard..... quit, give in.....stop trying, caring or feeling? I dont know anymore. All I do is write the same shit over and over, hoping it all made sense. Repetitive shit.....whining, bitching, anger fueled tears driving me insane. No wonder Im a sadist. Life made me one. My destiny is unclear, but tempered with what Ive had to deal with, who knows what I will be. I surely dont. Until then it will be Me going through the motions.

I cant stop thinking about something, and its killing Me. I need to stop.....

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