I try and think of
Marilyn as the happier side of myself, but right now my personal life is worse
than usual. I usually don’t talk about this stuff much. I guess there is still
a lot I try and “hide” from the world. For those that don’t know I live with my
ex-wife. Living conditions aren’t the best, but I try not to complain too much.
I have a roof over my head, clothes to wear, and food to eat. It’s more than
some can say.
About two or three weeks ago she crashed her brand new
motorcycle. She broke her ankle and well, my life went even more to crap. I get
to do basically everything for her while she treats me like dirt. If I say
anything I’m the bad person, or the house is a mess, or whatever. Every day, day in day out she treats me like
crap. Fun, isn’t it? Yet I’m not supposed to say anything or do hardly
anything.
I’m supposed to do everything she wants when she wants,
no questions ask. It’s frustrating. I feel like I have not life. All I do is
for her and the kids. All I hear is complaints about how I do things wrong. Or
what more I could do. I don’t matter; I am just an inconvenience in her “perfect”
world.
There just isn’t much happiness now. When the ex’s leg
heals she’ll kick me out. It’s so lovely to be used and thrown away.
I
tried to cheer myself up by buying some makeup, but honestly when will I use
it! I feel like all I do is run, work and get complained at. It is less than enjoyable.
The depression is getting to me. I tried to talk about it and was told I just
have self-pity. It must be nice to judge
people make them feel like crap I guess. I wouldn’t know.
I
got a break from the ex today, because the ex-decided to drive herself to some
friends. Idiot, if she doesn’t crash or kill someone I’ll be amazed! She just
doesn’t care it’s all about her. She is the center of the universe and if you
can’t accept that well, fuck you because you’re an asshole. That’s pretty much
it in a nutshell.
Sorry
it’s not a happy blog, or even a cross dressing blog. I just can’t do it today.
It was difficult enough to try and write a fashion article and hold it
together. If I could cry I would, but it is a rare day when I cry.
The
ex’s leg will take months to heal, so months of being treated like garbage
while I try and help her. It doesn’t seem right, but I guess that is self-pity
according to some. I’m tried, tired of the crap I get put through. Tired of
people saying don’t feel this, or don’t feel that. Well I feel it God damn it!
I’m just tired. I honestly didn't even want to write anything at all.
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