kat8cha | (no subject)

The truth I am afraid I have to face is really pretty simple;
I was a bitch, I am a bitch, and I will always be a bitch.

It runs in my family actually. My mother's a bitch, my older sister is occasionally a bitch, my immediate older sister is a bitch, and my younger sister is a bitch. It's proof that bitchihood is genetic. So pity the man I eventually marry for having to deal with me and my mewling, whiny, bitchy brats.

Another hard fact that I and anyone who wants to know me has to face is this- You don't. Know me that is. Sure I'm fairly open about a lot of things, but you really don't know me and probably never will. I don't know me most of the time. And have you ever done something and looked back on it later and said 'who the hell did that?' because it sure as hel wasn't you? That's a common feeling for me. I once had a quote 'I am a diamond of many facets, strip off the masks and you may not like what you find.' I was going to use it in a poem or a song but I suck at writing those so it didn't work out. And yes I have tried poetry and songwriting and as much as my poems got praise I never really liked any of the ones that got it. Nor did I really feel for my poems. What you want you never really get right? So I want praise and never really get it.

Growing up in a family of 7 kids is difficult. I shared a room with 2 other siblings for most of my life. There was never really enough space and we were all in eachother's faces a lot of the time. I'm not connected to my oldest sister because let's face it she was half-way to grown up by the time I arrived in the world. And you gotta grow up sometimes, realizing the 'nice' sister isn't really 'nice' so much as 'a complete idiot'. There's never enough attention for what you want and always too much for the things you'd rather ignore.

It's never really impressive when you do something new, or different because someone else has done it before. And sitting by oneself after dinner to try to figure out how to multiply on your own when you're only in first grade is not that impressive when it's obvious you don't know how to do it. Though once it's explained you speed through the questions it isn't a big achievment. While most kids flout the ability to recite their memorization tables it was never all that impressive to me, so I never learned. Sure I could multiply really big numbers before any of the kids in my grade but really who in my family wasn't able to?

I wasn't an artist, despite my ability to make images that were occasionally really fun or creative. Mostly just humor. I was a sloppy, messy, child who never did what she was asked fast enough. I didn't have a terrible childhood. In fact all those horror stories you hear about smart kids being belittled or hated?

My family has them.

I don't.

I look at people and go WTF? I never had to deal with that. I was *liked* by the kids I went to school with. And sure they probably made fun of me, or laughed at the insane amount of cluelessness I had but still, I was amusement all in myself no need to add torment. I had a large group of freinds and everyone knew my name, hell in highschool though my freinds depleted everyone *still* knew my name. And it wasn't just as Fairman's little sister. I was Kat and they *knew* who I *was*.

Most of them? Would recognize maybe, but not name.

I'm a bitch, I don't bother to learn their names. Why should I? My freinds drifted away from me and at the highschool I went to there really weren't many people I connected with. My cousin, because she suffers from some similar issues and I clicked but then it was still different. The people in the drama club really didn't notice me at all, they knew who I was but I wasn't important so they ignored me most of the time.

The entire school probably walked in on me in a migraine.

None of them really had to put up with me though. Very rarely was one of them exposed to the fact that I am a very, very, bitchy person. Sometimes they faced the fact that I'm not always the kindest of people, or I'm sarcastic and don't honestly care about some things but not the true head on bitchiness.

Though I did give a 'death threat' to another girl but since I don't remember that incident at all (big black hole of about 30 second time period) I'm not sure it counts.

I suffer from very nasty emotional swings. I used to have to deal with them as a child too, angry to crying to happy. Happy was an almost constant. And nowadays? Happy is a good place to be, much better then flat which was where I was on the seizure medication. It contained anti-depressants which was probably good because they stopped me from committing suicide but they stopped me from *feeling*. How can I write if I can't *feel*? And as much as my writing sucks I enjoy doing it most of the time. It's an emotional outlet. Hence all the angst I've been writing for years.

Like I was saying though- I bounce. And there are days, nasty unfun days, where I really shouldn't be around people. Because they're going to trigger an absolutely horrible meltdown. Where 2 things will bring me to the verge of crying and the inability to find my way out of a paper bag. Even if I calm down from the first dip, I can't handle the second. And no matter how much fun or teasing I have or do after that I usually end up with a headache.

Tonight was compounded by food that possibly contained MSG and sitting in a dusty bookstore for an hour and a half. Dust is really bad for me. Not to mention the whole 'dealing with people thing'.

In general I don't deal with people. I prefer not to. People are stupid, idiotic, and prejuidiced. Little kids are annoying and minature adults, but they're cute. People in general are not. Some people, in select groups, I like. Parties, if I'm in the right mood, are an absolute blast. As long as I have a few people I can corner and hide with. When I meet someone for the first time I'm really *not* honest. People think I'm sweet, and shy, and such. They have no idea. It's all a facade but it's one that works really well.

People send me into panic attacks, I hate feeling like they're looking at me. I hate being judged, praised, noticed, critiqued, yelled at, anything. I have being noticed. Of course I also hate being ignored. If noone notices I'm in the room is it important that I'm there?

Have you ever felt your wrists throb telling you 'they don't care just let them go'? I have. I feel it whenever I deal with one of those Bad Days. I've considered suicide a lot, and if you don't know me you might say 'considered' and pass it off or 'oh dear'! And pity me. Don't. I have spent years dealing with non-stop mind bending pain. I have had the ability to drink, eat, and do whatever I want when I want taken away. I don't remember portions of my teenage years, and my ability to form connections with people? Stops at freindship and rarely does it get there. I've never made a cut, never swallowed a bottle of pills, never stepped to the edge.

I thought once it might have been cowardice, I couldn't hurt myself like that. Or courage, I couldn't hurt the people in my life like that.

The truth? It wasn't anything at all.

Why are you still reading this? If you made it this far you're more of a masochist then I am. Go away. Take your comments with you. Leave. The reason I'm posting this is to make myself feel better. The reason it's getting posted and not just written is because I'm going to want proof that I wrote this all down.

Take your pity and stuff it where the sun don't shine, this bitch doesn't need it.