Archive for June 8th, 2009

Well, there seemed to be a fair bit of havoc, alcohol-induced shenanigans and what not going on last night!

I’m sorry to everyone or anyone who is upset or angry (I sure know one commenter is!)

If I could honestly and truthfully tell you about everything going on that made me cycle recently, what brought things to certain points last night…I would.  Some I have mentioned but I already share enough of my personal life here.

There are other things I am dealing with as well that I am not writing about.  I can’t write them here! Everything has its limits!

I’m sick again.  Running more fevers etc…  I know, nothing but bad news keeps coming through the door! I think I will probably go back to J.’s couch now.  I may be too tired to make the long trek back to my place and stay over another night.  He already went to my place and grabbed my meds etc…

I was up here making my last incoherent Post as it stands (or stood?) and then…?

Yes.  Just like my last Post about cutting: “It Was Time.”

Do not mistake.  I don’t mean to go overboard and make it such a dramatic event.  However, I must admit, it was a bit of a dramatic…pivitol…”point”  in my cuting career.

It was the first time in my life that I felt and decided that I needed to cut.  I needed to do it to release the pain.  All of my prior cuttings had been very impulsive and I had never really understood them, why I did them.

Tonight? Another.

And it was just like the last I described above.  But of course not for the exact same reasons, no.  No.

I just think about it and the “motivations.”  At least for me as I have done this, well, several times.  And if you are a first time reader surfing through this Category, yes, I have sutured myself twice when I have cut.

Don’t do it.  I just know how to and I can do it.

So PA did a cutting again.  She used J.’s First Aid Kit and then she’ll fix herself when she get’s home.  It’s not a bad cut.  As per her last Cutting Post, as hard as it is to understand, if you can’t get the pain out any other way than sometimes that is just what you need to do.  Let it happen.  t’s not always a lot of fun but it’s okay.  Pain has to have an outlet.

How long is this Post? Are you sick of you me talking so much?


Okay, I think I’ve managed to proof this but any errors, sorry.  Wee, PA tired.  Surise coming up now.

Because I’m so messed and everything overlaps maybe I should hit a bunch or my Categories.

I dragged myself to my friend J.’s for some food (that I was too depressed to eat) so I simply drank wine instead.

For some reason, I got caught up in my asolute need for comfy socks.  No, cushy, padded…oh, PA and her Aspie  sensitive feet!

Now, this is when things got silly.  I ran into J.’s bedroom on a “sock hunt!”  I found a good pair but then I went daringly further and stole a pair of his underwear.

This is a rather long and sad story but we have worked through it.  I am gay.  J. is traight.  He fell in love with me.  I’ve done this before.  It can work.  With gentle care.  We are still here; still friends.

But back to the unmentionables?

We were out with some friends of J.’s and they were teasing him (and well, I had some comments of this very high class store.)  They said that he should dress up in a fine suit and me…? Well…

Yes, we will do it up and J. will buy me some lingerie! Even though he’ll never see me in it!

However, as all good tales may decieve.  Not a happy ending.

As lovely as may be barely dressed, no woman, my love will never see me.

I will give her a glance but nothing more.

Why? For only neverending pain.

This is now a lot of wine, a lot of Whine, way too much discussion or PAs “Love Life” and well…how can we find a word or more? There are many times where I don’t even wish to fathom one syllable.

Oh.  Did I get off track? Apart from stealing J.’s socks and his bottoms…well, I guess that is true friendship.

And the Password Shit.  WP blocked me.  Either J.’s or WP or some more evil shit pouring down on my head…


I guess I’ll have a bit more White now.  J.’s probably sleeping.