i can’t deal anymore

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Yup. Six. That’s not even the worst part.

The shower was thrown by my Maid of Honor, who lives across the country, and she flew from Dallas to be there before flying home to her husband she almost never sees because she’s always traveling for work. Did I mention she rented out a rooftop venue and had it catered with a custom menu for us? Yeah. She did. Six people. Fuck my life.

I feel like the lame fat kid waiting for kids to show up to his birthday party and then spending it alone. Really? Our bridal shower? I understand maybe ditching a Cards Against Humanity night, or even a birthday thing, but our BRIDAL SHOWER? We only get one of those! Ever! I’m no-shit seriously considering canceling the wedding. Why throw a party costing tens of thousands of dollars so that people can be dicks and not show? We invited 110 people, the RSVP date is July 1, and we have 34 attendees. That’s pathetic. Pathetic.

I want to die. I’ve never considered suicide so seriously before now. The only reason I haven’t done it yet is because it would devastate my fiancé to have to put our dogs up for rescue, because he wouldn’t be able to care for them by himself, he works too much.

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Too dramatic, you say? What’s the big deal? It’s one party, everything will be fine? No. No it won’t. Because this has become the norm. This is what happens, and I know it’s because of me, because everyone loves my fiancé and they would never treat him like this. I’m a burden to the people in my life alive, and I’m a burden to my fiancé dead. Do you have any idea how that feels? Put aside whether or not you think it’s true, and imagine that you felt that way. Whether or not it’s true, rational, or ridiculous, that is exactly how I feel right now. I’ve been trying to sleep for four hours and can’t because I can’t stop thinking about how miserable I am and wondering if I would regret taking all of my sleeping pills at once with a bottle of vodka.

I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t. It’s not worth it. I don’t know why I think it’s worth it to keep trying. Even our officiant (a mutual friend) called and said he may not make it to the wedding. That’s how little people give a shit about me. I’m not asking for all of their attention, I haven’t deluded myself into believing that people are always going to be available whenever we have a party, but these invitations went out in April. APRIL! It’s not like they didn’t have time to plan! And even worse, I feel guilty for missing my friend’s birthday party tonight because I wanted to have dinner with my mother whom I see once a year and my sister-in-law whom I haven’t seen since 2012.

This sucks. I don’t even know what I’m going to do. I think I’ll take a Neurontin and hope I pass out…

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if you’re going to treat me like shit, i don’t need you

I’m one of those people who really needs to be liked.  I go out of my way to make sure people feel comfortable, included, cared for, and appreciated.  To the point where I can’t enjoy my own parties, end up taking on extra work in groups, and spend entirely too much money on people I can’t even really count as friends.  This habit gets me way too stressed out, always ends up backfiring, and to be honest, I’m going to be 29 this year, I’m too old for this shit.

People who make fun of me for having a blog because it’s “stupid” should look at this: Interesting Facts about Blogs, it was written over two years ago, so I’m pretty sure the numbers are a little different, but there are some interesting factoids in here: “Most people read blogs more than once a day,” that surely doesn’t point to blogs being “stupid,” does it?  “Businesses that blog at least 20 times per month (4-5 week),  generate 5 times more traffic than those that blog fewer that 4 times per month,” point being: bloggers can make money.  Look at Jenna Marbles/Mourey, she started blogging in 2009 for Stoollala, and is now worth $2.5 MILLION.  To any dumb fuck that thinks blogs are stupid, tell her that.

The Huffington Post is a blog.  Gawker.  Lifehacker.  Fail Blog.  Business Insider.  Am I saying Always A Sailor is going to be like that?  Hell no!  This is my place to vent and sound off about stuff that I want to write about.  Does it matter that my number one post is about Navy tattoos?  No, I don’t mind that one bit.  The Navy and Tattoos was my 12th post, and you want to know why I wrote it?  It wasn’t so much to bitch about the chick who gets Navy tattoos and hasn’t “earned” them, it was mostly because I was trying to find information on military tattoos and had a ton of trouble figuring out their origins.  I thought that if I was looking for the information, maybe other people would want to know as well, so why not make a comprehensive list.  I thought about doing separate posts for all of the different branches, but let’s face it, no one has the diversity of tattoos that the Navy has, it’s just our thing.

I’m just done trying to defend myself, my use of hashtags on Instagram, the way I’ve decided to raise my dogs, (yes, you read that right, I have to defend the respectful treatment of my own dogs) and the fact that I’m a disabled veteran (I can’t tell you how many doctors, “shipmates,” and complete strangers have told me I’m faking.  Eat shit and die).  In order not to be a hypocrite, I’ll try not to judge others too harshly either (maybe I was a little over-the-top in my tattoo post, but whatever, it was three years ago, get over it).

I was just texting a friend about a get-together she’s having this weekend for her birthday (Happy Birthday, J!) and she said this:

I’m ready for my 20s to be over, I feel more classy because I’m older for some reason, like my age kind of makes me badass.

We talked about how we no longer feel it necessary to close bars, have ragers, and party like we will never party again.  Sometimes it’s cool to just hang out around the fire pit and talk about nothing, you know?  Everyone seems so obsessed with putting out this image of being a badass, and I don’t think you achieve it until you grow the hell up and get over all that crap.  Most of my friends and I are entering that “don’t give a fuck” portion of our lives where we’re old enough to realize life isn’t a goddamn competition, but still young enough that we can kick ass in anything we want to do.  I look at some of the people I served with, especially those that are out now (whether honorably or dishonorably), and I just think about how sad they are.  They still feel the need to treat others like crap to make themselves feel better.  I’m sorry your life wasn’t all you wanted it to be, but it’s life, that’s how it is!  One minute I’m considering asking someone my fiance and I served with to do a reading at our wedding, the next he’s being a narcissistic prick and I’m thinking “fuck you, buddy, I don’t want you around on the happiest day of my life…”

So, fuck it.  I’ve spent most of my life trying to make “the cool kids” like me.  Usually people stop after high school, but I joined the Navy, which is more like middle school, so I backtracked.  Now that I’ve been away from that crap for three years, am a graduate student, and am just so happy with my lot in life (except for the whole depression and handicapped things), that I simply don’t have time for the immature morons that insist on ruining it.  Social media seems to bring those things out in people too, they feel so powerful, sitting there behind their computer screens.  It’s disgusting.

So, now that I have trimmed some douche off of the wedding guest list, I can continue with my life, without these jerks anywhere near my radar…

depression

Depression and anxiety are cruel masters. One minute you can be fine, the next you want to die and you don’t know what hit you. The smallest problems are complete catastrophes. The dumbest things will make you cry. Things that should be no big deal will make you seethe with anger. You lash out, and then regret it, but you don’t know what to say, so you think maybe it would just be easier if everyone was mad at you, because then they would stay away. You still crave social interaction, though. So you throw a party, clean and cook all day, and no one comes. You try to be extra supportive and give your friends things to try to show them you care, and then realize the sad truth that it’s not reciprocated. You try to come up with a guest list for your wedding, and can only list a few people whom you really care about to come, you have to widen the criteria so the day isn’t depressing. Then only a third of those that were invited say they’re going to come. You know even fewer will actually show up. You become extremely judgmental of others because you’re extremely judgmental of yourself. You set these unachievable goals, and when the inevitable happens, you lay in bed or on the couch for a week doing nothing, because you feel like you are nothing. You question people’s affections, sabotage relationships, and hurt the people you love. You overeat, or you don’t eat, or you pull out your hair, or you hit things, or you cut yourself.

Living with mental illness is not only hard, it’s impossible. Please, don’t give up on us. We’re capable of so much more than we believe. We need you to believe for us.

the sgt bergdahl thing

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By now, I’m sure everyone has heard about the case of Sergeant Bergdahl and his release from captivity in Afghanistan.  Bowe Bergdahl was released last month in a prisoner exchange by which the United States released five detainees from Guantanamo Bay into Qatar, where they must stay for a minimum of one year, and are “subject to strict bans on militant incitement or fundraising that might pose a danger to the United States.”

Okay, granted, this raises some questions:

1.  What happened to the United States’ policy of not negotiating with terrorists?

The United States has a policy of not negotiating directly with terrorists.  We can, however, negotiate through an intermediary nation.  In this case, it was Qatar.  What the Obama Administration did is not new, nor is it “illegal,” nor is it treason.

2.  What’s the deal with Bergdahl’s dad?

If you’re asking this question, then you’ve probably read and seen photos of Robert Bergdahl, the father of Sgt. Bergdahl, who tells us he grew out his hair and beard and began learning Arabic and Pashto in an effort to bring his son home.  Right-wing media has been criticizing Mr. Bergdahl because his actions apparently make him a Taliban sympathizer, and a Muslim (why being a Muslim is a bad thing, I don’t get, but my guess is that stupid people think all Muslims are terrorists).

3.  Isn’t Bergdahl a deserter?

Officially, no.  In 2010, “the evidence was “incontrovertible” that Bergdahl indeed walked away from his unit, [however the Pentagon] did not accuse him of desertion.”  There is little information on this part of the story, but earlier in the article cited by the previous link, Bergdahl is described as feeling little conviction for his assignment in Afghanistan, saying “These people need help, yet what they get is the most conceited country in the world telling them that they are nothing and that they are stupid, that they have no idea how to live.”

Here’s the issue.  Those of us at home have no idea what those guys over in the Middle East have to do.  We don’t see the end result of our demand for action and justice.  Likewise, the grunt on the ground isn’t going to see the big picture, it’s above his pay grade.  It is understandable that Bergdahl would have had some frustration, especially with the incidents he cited: “He said an Army vehicle had run over a girl, but “we don’t even care when we hear each other talk about running their children down in the dirt streets with our armored trucks.””  I don’t care what your mission is, that’s horrible.

4.  Come on, he forgot how to speak English??

This one I’m also really skeptical of, to be completely honest.  However, I think Robert Bergdahl put it quite eloquently: “The complicated nature of this recovery will never really be comprehended.”  What I do know is that sassy attacks on the former POW, like the one from Sarah Palinaren’t helping.  None of us knows the first thing about what that man went through, even former POWs, because Bergdahl was the first and only American POW during this war.  It’s going to take a long time to figure out why he doesn’t seem to be capable of speaking/comprehending English, and in the meantime, the rest of us should probably just shut the fuck up about it.

 

I understand that we all have a right to our own opinions, and we have a right to voice those opinions, but I propose that everyone stop, learn, and think for a moment about what they’re doing and the things they’re saying.  So many people are simply spreading ignorance and hate when there is absolutely no basis in fact for such feelings.  I don’t give a damn what country you’re from, or what rights you have, you have a responsibility as a human being, with the capability of analytical, logical, ethical cognition, to think before you speak.  Think before you form an opinion.  Think before you make the entire country look even dumber than we already do.