Pain Relief

Hello folks. I’m sure you’ll be reading this entry way too late, because at this particular moment, my blog is closed. No, you guys did nothing wrong and are still worthy of my elegant, refined writing. I’m just protecting myself from evil spies trying to hurt me for voicing honest opinions they don’t want to hear. Either way, if you’re reading this, it means that, either the coast is clear, or I just don’t give a fuck anymore (probably the latter), so welcome back.

As you might have noticed from the bitterness of my previous paragraph, I haven’t been having a good time lately. Last week was probably one of the bleakest I’ve had all year, especially after I was perfectly fine and happy with everything. It’s weird to feel horrible after feeling like nothing can go wrong. It’s like you’re in the Matrix, and nothing is real. Except it is and it sucks.

Last week, I was involved in some really nasty shit at work. It’s not really worth going into details, all you need to know is that it was bullshit and I hate it. That is actually the reason my blog is (was) protected. I will not take back anything I’ve said, cause everyone knows I’m not lying or doing anything wrong, but for the moment, while everyone is still raging at their own failure disguised in the form of a twenty-two year-old girl rebel/instigator/public enemy #1, it is best to protect what is left of my dignity.

My way of dealing with problems is very simple. Usually, I choose to ignore them until they blow away. It’s not the most widely accepted way of doing things, but it works for me. I can’t remember how many problems I’ve gotten myself into over the course of my twenty-two years of existence, but I can remember exactly what I’ve done with most of them. I’ve ignored my way through them. It works. It does. Seriously. I’ve ignored lots of things and I’m perfectly fine. Seriously. Shut up.

Yesterday, the aftermath of last week’s office clusterfuck was, indeed, devastating. I felt humiliated, hurt in my very core, and vulnerable. Yesterday will go into my book as one of the most horrible days of ’11. Yes, April 25, 2011, the day my pride got hurt. Normally, as is protocol with situations such as this one, I would take the easy way out and ignore the motherfucking problem and move on with my life. No one cares, I don’t even care. It’s bullshit and everyone knows it. So fuck it. It’s the most ignorable problem in the entire world.

Wrong.

Really, I don’t understand why these things happen to me. Instead of taking it the way I should have – NOT seriously – I cried. It got to me. It’s very difficult for something to get to me the way this did. I cried like a kid all day. All fucking day. Everywhere. I cried in the bathroom, I cried in the car on my way home, I cried at school, I cried at lunch… I was a lean, mean crying machine. People actually worried about me, how embarrassing. I guess it happens: one day you just break down and can’t help it, you just blow up. I am more vulnerable than my leather jacket and boots show.

When the day was over, I went home with a more relaxed attitude. “It’s gonna be fine,” I was told. Yesterday was the lowest turd in a huge pile of steaming shit, but it was about to be over. At home, I started thinking of ways to cheer myself up. I grabbed my huge Edgar Allan Poe story book and opened it where I’d last left my bookmark, when I realized Edgar Allan Poe probably wasn’t the most appropriate reading material for my state. So, instead, I did something that surely cheered me up. I bought stuff. And not just stuff. I bought… hipster stuff.

A Holga camera.

Yes, this is what happens when I’m sad. Last time I was really really sad, I made a questionable buy. I bought myself a tattoo. Not saying I regret doing it, but maybe I should have given it a little more thought. Same with the hipster stuff. I guess this is the next best thing when your problems are harder than usual to ignore. Even though I’m a master at ignoring meaningless, inconsequential events, the stuff that gets to me usually stays there. Unless I buy hipster stuff. Heh.

I have my ways of coping with anger, pain and overwhelming emotions. They might not be the most orthodox, but they’re mine and they keep me going. So don’t judge my Holga camera. I bet you all want one anyway. As for the drama, today I’m doing fine. This particular pain relief mechanism worked to perfection.

One thought on “Pain Relief

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