Happy Halloween

I should have known when I woke up feeling sick that today was going to be like every other Halloween in recent memory. I haven't had a fun Halloween since I was a kid, which is fucked up since I keep claiming it's my favorite holiday. Its the time of year where all the wierd cool shit is socially acceptable, where people like to hear crazy stories and tales out of my mouth. I become a commodity of sorts. At work, people actually come to me and ask me about things, hauntings or other stories. People actually know who the fuck I am and that I exist.

So yeah, this sounds like a pity party. It's my blog. Don't like it get the fuck out. Not like anyone reads this shit anyway. I just like to see what I'm going through in words. It makes it real. Like someday someone will see this and know I'm not just crazy, that I have a very real and legitimate reason to feel the way I do. Tell me you wouldn't feel differently.

When I was a kid I loved to get dressed up and go trickortreating. It was fun and spooky. Haunted Houses were great because I could just let myself have fun and react and it was okay. It was okay to do that kind of stuff with your family as a kid.

Then in high school, I kinda ignored Halloween, because I was at the age where it wasn't cool anymore. I would go to the local haunted house if I had friends who were working as ghouls that year, but it was more to support them than anything.

In college, I would occasionally go out with friends on Halloween to the Haunted House. My best friend was always around. Until she started dating her now-husband. Then everyone else started to slowly not matter to her anymore. But she did always make time for me, and I for her. When I moved to Montana, I had a roommate who would hang out. Okay, so she was a high school student, but at least she wanted to watch scary movies and entertain trickortreaters and actually wanted to do that stuff with me. Great.

I moved back home and any friends I had here were long gone, off living thier lives. They were married or left for grad school or for work. I was stuck living at home, desperate for a job, and literally trying not to give up and slit my wrists. Here I was with all these qualifications and skills that people had been impressed by and I couldn't get a job as a cashier at a grocery store. I couldn't make new friends. You tell me that sends the message of being worthy. I think not.

So nearly two years go by and my family threatens to kick me out, so I take the GRE and literally pick a grad program out of what I was somewhat qualified for, all the while expecting to not get accepted because fuck, I couldn't get a job, how the hell was I going to get one of ten spots in a grad program? Yet I did. I didn't get any assisstantships, which just means more debt and more ways to get fucked over later on, which is going to happen.

So I think I'll get back into the world, right? The first day of class everyone is really nice and warm and sweet and wanting to have study groups and actually asking me about myself. I'm included in group emails, and people made the effort to invite to me non-school related events. Most of which I attended. I get a job, a shit one but still. I work hard, my bosses love me because I make and exceed numbers. Most of my calls love me because I'm polite and warm without being too pushy.

But at the end of the day, I'm just numbers to my bosses. They don't even remember my first name. And after a while, the ladies in my classes just started to exclude me. I'd find out via facebook or them talking during breaks in class about all the things they did or are planning. That's fine, I'm used to being excluded. Very common for me. But when they asked me about Halloween, and then they asked me if I wanted to go, and I said yes and I helped make the plans...then I got my hopes up. Only to find that they went earlier in the day.

Let's go back...the last few years I've had plans with others. I got all dressed up in costume, only to find out that the other people either 'didn't want to go'. No, that's the excuse I got. Nevermind I found out on Facebook they went anyway, without me. At least Frankie just stayed home that year. Because being a housewife is her deal. Ew.

Tonight I had plans, I got my costume on and I stupidly let myself get excited, even though all week I was anxious. I finally got over the hump and got hyped up. Then...I got ditched. As always. I find out they all went an hour earlier and forgot to tell me. So when I text to give someone a ride they were just leaving.

I'm in the car, in a parking lot, texting and bawling like a fucking loser when my father, who was doped up on meds, demands to go to the haunted house with me. So I take him, even though he was in pain the whole time. Because he felt guilty that I got ditched. We had a huge fight on the way home, because I thanked him for going with me, but that he didn't have to go...and he started giving me bullshit about tradition.

It's only tradition because everyone fucks me over.

Seriously, what is so fucking wrong with me that nobody wants to spend time with me? Am I that horrible? I mean, I know I'm not a looker anymore, but some of the most hideous looking people in the world have husbands/wives/kids. Not to mention the guy at work I've been building up a repoire with. I finally get the courage to casually ask him out for drinks...only to find out he started dating someone else with work with just two days before.

I've done the slut thing before, back when I had the body to pull it off (the reason I don't have that body anymore is a very long and somewhat related story...but I'm not going to get into that online). I've done the confident thing and the desperate thing and I just can't seem to make it work. Not for friends, not for romantic relationships. I've put myself in some dangerous positions before, like hooking up with the wrong kind of guy at a party, or letting a boyfriend hit me because it made him feel better..and yes I know that was bullshit but I stayed with him for a few months anyway. Yeah, I've done stupid shit, and I've done the right shit, and none of it works.

I just hate feeling so hopeless, worthless and useless at the same time. Ick. Yet I don't want to commit suicide, even though I can understand why someone would think that I would. And I've tried before. I've done the whole hospital thing, the recovery, the rehab. But I feel like attempting suicide or actually doing it would feel cheap and cheesy, and I still have just enough self worth left to think that I could do better. I haven't completely given up yet. I'm just trying to vent, to figure out how to be better, and maybe enjoy my favorite holiday someday.