All posts by justcallmetaco

About justcallmetaco

I don't fuck around --- not in my writing --- and not in my life. I'm a powerful woman who has finally found herself. I hope you find me too. I'm a Bitch who simultaneously wants to make everyone's life better, every day. I hate everyone until I breathe. It's good that I breathe, like, all the time so far in my life.

I Was Burning Up A Fever. I Didn’t Care Much How Long I Lived. PART I.

This is my plea for forgiveness.

I have to come to grips with my reality, AND I want to set the record straight before I let go.

I have been what I consider MY WORST self lately.

I’m not proud of me.

I’m not proud of what I’ve written. Dragging people’s names through the mud, so to speak.

I have deleted the post that I’ve gotten more hits on in the past 48+ hours than I have since the first time I wrote about my sister.

Of course she wasn’t the only person I attacked and blamed for what I described as terrible behavior in that post. It wasn’t a good look for me.

I feel sick about the traffic on my page due to that “Takedown Piece,” (see “The Newsroom,” for the reference).

After some not-to-be-taken-lightly thinking, I justified my actions by telling myself that MY out of character behavior was a direct result of the behavior of others.

But, regardless of my opinions of those people, regardless of their behavior, their actions, or otherwise, I forgot something.

I?

I AM IN NO POSITION TO JUDGE ANYONE.

I wasn’t raised that way.

I wasn’t brought up to tear anyone else down.

I was brought up to be kind.

NO. MATTER. WHAT.

And my behavior as of late, has taken parts of myself I can’t, and won’t, ever get back.

I don’t feel sorry for myself.

I have never thrown myself a “pity party,” (though a number of relatives who I was finally honest with about their “Christian based” bigotry), might disagree.

And, perhaps, most importantly, I am not making excuses for myself.

To those I have hurt with my words, I deeply apologize. This is not a plea for your specific forgiveness. Even if you were willing to give it, I don’t want it. I will come to terms with my sins when I meet my death.

Gary truly made me a better person when he was around because he spoke the truth, for better or for worse. He world tell me, “eff that person,” or, “you’re too hard on that person.”

One thing. I had to saw apart this GORGEOUS shelf we made together, in order to move to be with my baby kittwins. From this:

To this:

Ouch. That really hurt. So that’s a thing that happened. Anyway.

I judge people. We all do. It’s part of our socialization.

I’m not saying whether it’s right or wrong.

I don’t think anyone can help it. (But I do think the torture of law school makes that judgment “gene”(?!?!?!) harder to fight, urging us to become self-righteous vigilantes).

But I’m going to leave that “job” to anyone else right now.

All that being said:

I am truly, most sincerely, sorry for any words I’ve said or actions I’ve taken that have hurt other people, especially anyone alluded to, specifically, in my blog.

This blog was supposed to be my story. I thought I was being true to that.

But now? I believe I was truly behaving aggressively toward others I love and care about (rapists I mentioned along the way excluded).

Many months ago, I was told by several people to “put my oxygen mask first,” you know, that allusion to ✈️ turbulance…imminent death…the cast of “LOST.”

I think that I took that advice way too far.

I warped it to mean, “say exactly what you think, consequences be damned, choose you first, forget what you’ve done before, take the reigns and go.”

I allowed myself to be SO selfish, that I lost myself.

Like, REALLY lost myself.

And I have to cope with that. I hope I can.

Yes, I am deeply suffering.

But, I’ve gotten off track, and it’s time to correct my course.

So I’ll go back to telling MY story. NOT those of others.

Obviously, I don’t live in a vacuum. People will come up in my narrative.

But I’m done calling people out. (I hope.) And I really want to change back to being a person I’m proud of after all.

Do I have excuses? Absolutely? Will I share those excuses? Absolutely. But do any of them justify what I’ve done?

I don’t think so.

But I won’t judge you if you do.

PART II is next.

✌️

What. A. Loner.

Oh, change the “n” in “loner” to an “s.” That’s better.

I made a promise to myself that I would be candid and honest in this space. If I cannot be honest in my writing, where can I be? Besides — I truly do believe that pretending everything is one way — when it’s actually another — causes a lot of problems.

That doesn’t mean everything sucks, or is scandalous. It’s just — true.

Full disclosure, I AM a loner. Big time. My entire life I’ve simultaneously wanted to be left completely alone, while ALSO wanting to be SURROUNDED by friends and family and people who love me so I can talk and talk and talk forever.

I have almost no luck with the second part.

I do this thing.

I’ve nick-named it “The All or Nothing Paradox.”

(I’m too afraid to “Google” that to see if it’s actually already “a thing.”)

What it means to me, though, is pretty much self-explanatory. I want everyone, and I want no one. There is NO “in between.”

In fact, I’ve been known to go through these kind of “purging” experiences with friend circles.

Part of it stems from never feeling like I fit in.

And part of it stems from my being paranoid constantly, not to mention insecure.

But — basically, after something happens within a group I’ve been friends with that I don’t like, (usually something I do), or I something happens in that group that I can’t change, or something happens that I’m embarrassed by, I tend to bizz-ounce.

And. I cannot be alone.

And I have praised living alone. But I’ve decided, not only did I absolutely NEED that at the time I experienced it, but I also really need to NOT be doing that anymore. I CAN’T do it.

I moved so I could live with my baby boys. My kittwins. I can live with these loves of my life now. And my baby boy is sick. But he’s letting me pamper him now, Which I like, but I also hate, because Peyton isn’t a cat I’ve been able to “catch”….until now.

Look at this love:

He’s my little Playboy.

I love my Eli too! I’m grateful he’s so healthy:

Don’t talk to me about lighting. They are sleeping cats. Grow up. 😇

Also, this^ is, is my jam.

Do with that pun what you think I’d want you to do.

SO.

A Church member commented, “Wow,” on my post regarding the Church stuff I said. This member is SO INTO the family of the dude I called out. I’m sticking to it.

“Wow,” is right.

I said something that someone told me, perhaps expecting it work never be repeated.

But he didn’t say that.

“Aw, Sum Sum. Nooooooo.” As Rick said in Season 3 Episode 2.

So now — people are on notice: don’t say things of that nature to me.

Don’t gossip about things like, “isn’t it CRAZY that this person is dead and probably killed himself and I have to be the first to tell everyone because I get off on it?!” DON’T DO THAT. Then we’d be cool.

I am not scared of your minion writing, “Wow.”

I do, though, miss Gary. Because I’m watching “Rick and Morty,” and Peyton’s dying. And at 4:30 today when I had MINUTES to get to the Post Office — my car’s battery died. So I had to wait for AAA. (Thank God I made it!!!!!!!!!) But $164.13 later, I have a new battery and MORE bad than I can handle:

It made me sad that the AAA guy was IMPRESSED that I knew how to “pop the hood.” SO sad.

But alas, everything worked out. Except of course for the people who hate me hating me, and Peyton dying, and my very desperately needing a job.

But! My best friend is engaged and getting married!!!!!! 🥰😘🤩❤️💕💖🎉🐾 And my other best friend is about to have a baby!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!! 🐣🤱🍼🥰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💝💞😍💗 And my other best friend is moving back from Michigan to New Jersey in JJJJUUUUULLLLLLYYYY!!!!!!!!!! 🌞🎉😁🤠🙋❤️🥰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💒💞😍

So. Monitoring Peyton and my cup of noodles await. And. So. Much. Sugar.

✌️

That Means Everyone’s Sick.

You have to be really careful with a razor
You have to be able to cut just right

Too deep, and your secret pleasure could become an accidental emergency
Too surface level, and what’s the point?

I made a red portrait
It wasn’t created through my smeared blood

My boyfriend begged me and begged me to tell him what I wrote in the portrait
But I was hungry, and tired of explaining my truth

But you know you’re on the right track when you can peel a tissue off the blood without reopening the cut into messiness
How many will you endure tonight?

As many as it takes, bitch
Because you own that shit

🎶 Don’t you ever try to judge me, dude
You don’t know what the fuck I’ve been through 🎶
On repeat
Repeat
Repeat
Resist

Your feet are your best weapon
No one will look there

Just as no man will check what you hide under tampons in your bag as you go through security
This information is for your safety, not to abuse

You love someone
Many someones

Forever
Until forever collapses like a mine

Everyone involved is trapped
And recovery is brutal

Tragedy?
Comedy?
Both?
Neither?

Then an unexpected twist in your privileged world
Someone you know is dying

Don’t talk about “it”
“It” upsets your Mom when they say “it” out loud

But you get it
We’re all dying

Relatives screaming, “how dare you not appreciate what you have — why must you host a pity party?”
Your reaction will cut ties, I have just learned

I miss G-unit rubbing my neck
He’d touch every muscle and it would be excruciating

Fibro
Undiagnosed

But neither of you knew that
Your body screaming in protest while hoping for more

Who’s “The Joker” now?
Why. So. Serious?

If only he’d known
If only you’d known

Maybe the pain could have subsided and accounted for
But being misguided for years?
Being misdiagnosed for years?
Who can endure that?

Not him. Not your Protector. Not the one you BELIEVED this time
For better or worse, until death did you part

You must continue the pain now
It’s not for attention

“Man up,” now
You can take “it”

Society wants you to be sick
Society wants your guilt to fester

Think of all of the jobs you’re keeping alive!
Think of all the people you’re helping by being sick!

Most people don’t believe your illness is real
And most people ask you why you can’t work when you look, sound, and appear, “fine”

I fall asleep now an hour at a time
Always waking up, reaching for something

Know your role
And accept that I know mine.

He Was A Boy. She Was A Girl. Can I Make It Any More Obvious?

The love of my life is gay.

The second love of my life is dying…

…but only because we all are.

The third love of my life is also dying.

I know he’s a cat, but he’s MY cat. He’s just under twelve years old. He’s been through so much with me. Let’s go through the bad things I can recall at this moment, in no particular order, since that’s what we’re here for, right?

  • The guy I dated the longest, (prior to my gay ex-boyfriend/soul mate/love of my life up to that point, and the man I thought I might marry), told me I shouldn’t adopt him and his twin brother. Don’t care why. Later that year when he broke up with me and broke my heart, I never needed my kittwins more. I cried on my Dad’s shoulder for so long that night. You know. My Dad who is no longer alive. I thought the guy wanted to marry me. He didn’t.
  • Law school. Enough said.
  • Preparing for, and passing, two Bar Exams, one of which is considered the second hardest in the nation (second to California, for those who care).
  • Crushes.
  • Heartbreak.
  • Insecurity.
  • Hate.
  • Addiction. To everything which I’ll admit.
  • Cutting. Lots and lots of careful, and painful, and extreme cutting.
  • Abandonment when I moved in with the second love of my life, leaving him behind with his twin brother for nearly five years.
  • Hating myself.
  • My Dad dying.
  • The second love of my life killing me, still, right this second, over, and over, and over, every second of every day.
  • Getting sexually assaulted at work.
  • Getting raped.
  • My hate for myself.
  • Him getting his own death sentence.
  • Today.
  • Hopefully tomorrow.

I used to LOVE this time of year; the week after Daylight Savings Time used to bring me instant joy in the form of more light than dark in the evening.

I, probably like many people, enjoy the lengthier daylight.

The night can be scary. So scary. For so many reasons.

Last night I slept selfishly.

Protecting my baby boy has become priority number one for me.

If that means keeping two to three other cats away throughout the night, then that’s what it means. (That’s what it means.)

I mean, look at him:

Wouldn’t you?

So I don’t sleep much these days.

Waiting.

For his death.

Oh. And. My ex’s Mom texted me this weekend (on her birthday). It really messed me up. How much can a person take?

I have a feeling I’m about to find out.

✌️

This Is Freaking Lame [And Other Allusions To “10 Things I Hate About You”]…And More!

I hate that I can’t read at night

Because I’m not reading you to sleep

 

I hate that I’m wearing your old shirt

It looked much better on you

 

I hate that I want to tell you every single thing I know you’d find interesting, funny, or “so us”

Since you couldn’t reach me anymore if you tried

 

I hate seeing your name on mail

Which is not my fault you’ll never see

 

I hate how much I hate you

Because of course that means I’m not out of love

 

I hate that you were everything

Except for when you weren’t

 

I hate that I know better

Than to bark back up that tree

 

I hate that you can’t hear your voice through my writing

Because I think you’d forgive me a little more than you’d want to

 

I hate when I write through your eyes

Knowing the tears you’d cry when I did

 

I hate that I can’t remember

What it felt like to feel you

 

I hate how many times a day I call myself stupid

Something you really made me believe

 

I hate that you lied in every card, during every hug, and throughout every night

You almost killed my voice

 

I hate that I feel helpless

Though I know it’s not the truth

 

I hate that I let you train me

Like the broken animal I was

 

I hate that I can’t cry, and I really hate that I can’t stop

But mostly I hate the thoughts of you

 

Because I don’t hate that I’m not wrong

In every way you used to see

Let Me Rest In Pieces, You Arrogant Prick

Because of >__________<(reasons), I cannot stop thinking about my ex. It’s been at least six months since our five year union (longer than some marriages!) ended. But I still miss him every day.

Aside from, “check your mailbox [for the apartment keys],” the last words I received from him were, “leave me alone.”

I am taking him at his word.

I thanked him for FINALLY returning the keys AND bid him adieu in my reply message telling him all I was trying to do was leave him alone after I got my keys back.

I am keeping my word.

No contact since then.

Nothing.

I would ask all of my male friends, “he really means he wants me to leave him alone for good, right?” But, I know the answer.

It’s, “duh.”

So I guess I _____ here, alone, thinking about him way too much, and missing the way it used to be.

Thanks a lot, Matt Nathanson.

“Used to be,” is my every moment.

I have a lot of things going for me right now. But making myself happy by making my mate happy isn’t one of them. We REALLY can’t have it all.

✌️