Supergirl

Okay so first of all Wonderwoman is badass and hella sexy. If I was a guy, she would be my woman. Secondly Wonderwoman and I might as well wear the same outfit because uh, my life is way harder than it looks.

I moved into my new housing this week and I’m going to share pictures. This is approved college housing and that means keep it clean, no porn, no men past curfew, no men allowed in the rooms, no men sleeping over, keep the house clean and free of infestations…. and so far the only rule that hasn’t been broken is porn. Closest thing we have to that is my roommate who wears a bikini and a man’s see-through dress shirt. My roommates are all girls…

NINE… of them. They like to go out together, chat about hair and weddings (two of them are childbride Mormon girls. Good luck with that.) and spontaneously burst into song. And for me they also besides not cleaning a single dish and allowing mold and cockroaches and mice to thrive in the kitchen and never sweeping or mopping the floor or cleaning the window AHEM they’re white girls. Major culture shock. I forgot just how shallow 19-20 year old girls were?! Oh and another thing. They bring home junk food and lay it out on the counter. It’s like a Mormon walking past a strip club “don’t look don’t look don’t look think of Jesus” but my anorexia is more like “No. You can’t have that. Stop it. NO you don’t want it. You want to be skinny.” And these girls do all these cinnamon diets? Stop. Stop now. One of them was “Miss Fitness” at my college and she participates in this craycray up in here.

So… I spent over 14 hours so far this week making the house livable and waging war on the cockroaches, centipedes, and I’m headed for the rats in the near future (those of us who sleep on the floor don’t take no chances with vermin). I cleaned the upstairs floor. Fixed a lot of stuff around the house. Figured out where the dead animal smell was coming from.

One thing driving me crazy is that the girls invite their men over at night to sleep with them. Wideopen in public in the middle of the house on our couches. Every. Single. Night. And I have PTSD so I wake up hour after hour like “who dat?” with my PTSD screaming at me you have to do something men are dangerous get them outta here. But 9 girls versus 1 who just moved in. So I report it to the college. They don’t do anything. And everytime I walk by the man sleeping on my roommate I am severely tempted to misuse my standard issue sweeping broom and then I remember “Be like Jesus.” and my eye twitches and I go back to sweeping.

Image result for looking murderousBRUH
Asides that I am doing pretty well except I think my meds are a bit… overdosed. I keep trying to touch fluffy things and getting distracted by passing butterflies. I’m feeling almost… disconnected from myself and when I start to feel really depressed I just go numb. I don’t think that’s what it’s supposed to do but I don’t know what I’d do if we went down on the medication.
Besides all the other drama that guy, Maui? Yeah. He brought his white girlfriend to the Polynesian Cultural Center today to show off. I have way mixed feelings about that. First one is well fine, get married and have a nice fuck- because my views about marriage are soo different now with my experience of the world. I don’t see the point. I mean if men can rape children and get away with it… Why should anyone bother to keep any rules at all?
I’m jealous but not of him specifically because the other thing that happened- Teddy Bear? He’s in a relationship now. And he knew about me being in the hospital and didn’t even come visit me. He’s too busy feeling up his new girlfriend.
So get this. He promises he’s my best friend. He promises he’ll never leave me. He promises he’ll be the first person when I get off the plane.
I get off the plane alone because at 2am the day before 2 days out of the hospital I get this text hey I’m sorry but I have work and I don’t have money I can’t take you. THANKS. THANKS SO MUCH. And then a week goes by and he doesn’t move his butt to come see me. He spends all his time with his Princess.
Am I jealous? YES. YES I AM. See if he hadn’t promised to be my best friend. If he had just said hey I have a new woman so now you don’t exist it would be different! It’s the promise that makes it boy, you gotta die. I am sooo angry. I am furious. I am hurt. I had finally started to trust this guy and then BAM slap another wall in my face.
NO, you can’t have a best friend. No you can’t trust anyone. No you don’t get to get hugs or get a workout buddy or someone to hang out with.
All those things he promised he’d be, he lied to me about.
That doesn’t feel good.
And then on top of that I had my first appointment with my new nutritionist today and we kind of touched on what’s up with my eating disorder and I mentioned some of the stuff and nearly burst into tears in her office. And then I come back and these same LDS bitches who made my life hell before I left are alive and kicking and the only people who were my friends before I left are too busy feeling up their girlfriends ass and dreaming about eternal marriage the “happy ending” to come visit their friend. And I am going to put in this plug right now. I don’t ditch anyone.
OHANA MEANS FAMILY. FAMILY MEANS NOBODY GETS LEFT BEHIND OR FORGOTTEN.
‘SCUSE me but I just automatically assumed that someone who said they loved me, actually loved me. I just assumed that because you used to call and say I love you and promise not to leave, that you loved me and that you wouldn’t leave.
Who’s the stupid one? You or me?
Oahu20170623_062155To lighten the mood a little I included a picture of Hawaiian chickens roosting up a tree. you’re welcome.20170620_14473120170621_190206

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