The trouble with being bipolar is how exactly am I supposed to know when I’m manic or not?? It’s 2:30 in the morning and I just got done cleaning for 20 minutes, making some content, and responding to messages on my various social media’s. I have anxiety that’s through the roof and my appetite has been non existent. I’m getting impatient with all of my endeavors that I’ve embarked on within the past few weeks. I am seeing some payoff though. I made $10 off of a Facebook marketplace sale and someone bought my Waluigi figurine on Mercari so I am making progress. I’ve been really pushing myself. Today I applied to several places. I’m just playing the waiting game now to see who responds first. I really want to work at the DMA. Maybe it’s not healthy of me but I want to be near my girlfriend. I feel like she’s already vetted the place so I know it’s gonna be safe for me. She’s gonna be working on some of the days I will be if I get hired and on top of that, they are a non-discriminatory work place so I can be my genderfluid non-binary self and not have to worry as much about being hate crimed. Anne’s employees are mostly all queer or they’re ally’s and most of them will respect my pronouns which is a big deal for me. I was going crazy at the spa where I worked. I felt so much dysphoria while I worked there and it was killing me slowly. Not to mention, I came at out as trans and a week later I was fired. (That’s a subject I’ll definitely be delving more into at a later time). In other news, I have been formally uninvited to Christmas by my mother. I can’t say I’m not hurt by it. It hurts me deeply. But I understand it. And I’m too tired to argue with it. My social media posts have apparently been making their way around the family circle. I was really freaked out at first about it. I panicked and locked down my entire Facebook. Atleast my main account anyways. So it’s going to be a lot harder for my family to find me on there. Facebook is where I drop all the juicy tidbits about my family. I’m not really concerned with them finding my other social media. My grandpa even apparently stalked my social media and liked one of my posts. It felt like a power move on his part. I feel like everyone is expecting me to back down and be quiet about everything. But I’m too deep into this. I want to launch a full blown investigation into my grandfathers crimes. I have yet to decide if I’m going to attempt to confront him directly. Either way, I want to find things out. I need closure so I can move on. And I don’t think I’ll be able to move on at all if I don’t atleast try and crack this thing wide open. I’m smarter and stronger than people give me credit for. I’ve been homeless, spent nights alone in the mental hospital and have been brave enough to keep my integrity about me and live a life that is honest and true to myself as much as possible. I may be shit broke and have no furniture, no car and debt but atleast I know I’ve lived an honest life up to this point. I may have broken down and had seasonal slip ups here and there but the roots of me have stayed honest and true and I am proud of myself for not letting the world break me because all of what I’ve been through, very well could have been the end of me if I let it. Between all the assaults, the betrayal, the secrets & the lies, the abuse, the cover ups, the homophobia, the fat phobia, the medical neglect and a myriad of other sinister things, I should be dead. And yet here I fucking am. So let them drag my name through the dirt. I have NOTHING to hide. I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I’ve done. Unlike some of my family members, I live my life outside the confines of my metaphorical closet. (No tea, no shade!) I love everyone in my family. But I’m not gonna sit here and beg for their love. Or honesty. I have every right to share my personal experiences. I will not be shamed out of doing so. I’m sick of being called crazy when all I’m doing is telling the truth. I keep saying this over and over again: I am simply the *scapegoat* they feel they can blame their darkness on. I don’t understand why it’s so fucking hard just to admit you’ve done a bad thing. Hell, I’ve done some SHITTY fucking things. I have no problem admitting to them. I’ve manipulated people to get what I want. I’ve told my friends secrets when I shouldn’t have. I’ve cheated on past partners. And I’ve taken advantage of my friends kindness before. I’ve done all these things. I’m not fucking perfect. I’m doing my best now to make amends but I’ve done my time. I’ve spent the past two years hating myself for doing those awful things. I was pushed into a corner though and I was scared. I reacted out of fear and I didn’t make good choices. I thought for a long time that just because I had a good reason to do the bad things that I got an exemption from the consequences but I don’t. And trust me, I have dealt with the consequences. I am still dealing with the consequences. If I have to say sorry for the rest of my life, I will. Because that’s what you fucking DO when you love someone. You swallow your goddamned pride and APOLOGIZE. It’s not that hard. It was (ironically, enough) my mother who taught me that. And it’s a rule I’ve done my best to abide by. I have no problem with apologies. Anyways, this is turning into a boasting session and that’s not what I’m trying to do here. I’m just venting my frustration. If one of my family members is reading this, please understand that just because I’m hurt and angry right now, that does not mean I don’t love you. Please stop thinking I’m out to get you. Ugh…who am I kidding? I doubt they even give enough of a shit to pay to support my blog. Maybe they don’t know it exists. My mom only referred to my social media posts. She never mentioned my blog. My grandpa, however, must have seen it. He had to scroll pretty far back on my page to like the post he liked. It feels like the walls are closing in on me. I just want to SCREAM. Why can’t y’all be grown ups and talk to me directly if you have a problem? Like honestly, this is gonna be harsh but: Grow the fuck up! Atleast my mom had the decency to text to let me know where I stand. I can respect that. But my uncle? He’s 50 something years old and literally stalked my Facebook profile like a 16 year old girl (we weren’t even friends on Facebook so he literally had to go OUT OF HIS WAY to look me up on there so he could comment some trolling ass bullshit. And when I sent him a very well thought out message, attempting to have a civil debate with him, he essentially ran away like a dog with his tail between his legs. Such POWER I must hold, to make a grown man feel so scared! It’s tantalizing to know I have the power to render a grown man nearly speechless. I can’t say I’m not scared though. My uncle owns guns and knows how to use them. Would he threaten me with them if he knew how I was talking about him right now? I have to remember though that one of my closest friends right now went to jail for beating a man up who raped one of her friends. So it’s not as if I’m out here helpless and alone. I have people. I just need to let them in. Boy oh boy…my life is insane. I can’t believe the bullshit I have to deal with sometimes. I’m always up for a fight though. If I have to walk through fire to rid myself of all these demons that my family has passed down to me then I will and I’ll do it with my head held high. I feel like my whole life has been leading up to this. I did not go through everything I had to go through just to sit on my ass and accept things for the way they are. I refuse to pass this curse on to anyone else. I will spend my whole life doing everything in my power to break it just so whoever comes after me can live a normal, decent life. Here I go again getting on my soapbox. Sometimes a good self pep talk is necessary. This week has already been hard because of bills being late and the house being messy etc. Christmas isn’t even here yet so I need to be prepared because I know it’s going to be hard. I will probably cry. I know Anne’s family is probably going to get me atleast one present atleast and this year I’m getting to spend the night over there on Christmas Eve. Atleast things with her parents are looking up for the most part. I feel like they’re warming up to me. I just hope they don’t find out about my sex work. And if they do, I hope they don’t mind it.