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.