An update.

I've been trying really reallyyyy hard to be happy, and to be okay. My head automatically blocks me from remembering good times as well as the bad, leaving me incredibly empty.

I crashed my car two days after getting it fixed. I destroy literally everything I touch.

After returning to my mom's house at the beginning of this month my body has ballooned with fat. I feel so full and uncomfortable, I hate how much she buys. WE HAD SIX LOAVES OF BREAD. Neither of us fucking eat bread.

The amount of food I've been surrounded by is so overwhelming. Everything is overwhelming. I want to just hide in a corner with my hands over my face. I want to hide, I want to disappear. I want to go back to how things were.

I want to go away... you know what I mean.

Everything seems pointless because everything IS pointless. I'm empty and alone and have dug so deeply into my hole of anxiety and depression that there was no turning back years ago.

I have no idea who I am or what I want. I'm too afraid to leave the house whether I'm sober or not now. I am so paranoid and worried, my body is always on edge; I'm always tense.

I've wasted my youth and I'm just an empty shell of a person. I've experienced nothing, and have connected to no one.

How could I have made this much mess, acquired this much debt, without doing literally anything? I don't get it. At what point did everything go so wrong?

I used to think I was sooooo sad and sooo lonely and soooooo helpless. But NO, fuck no; I was not even close to the lump of fuck-up I am now. I was able to hold down a job. I was able to meet friends. I was able to go places on my own. I was able to smile (even if it sometimes felt forced). I was able to look people in the eye.

I'm clinging desperately to the thought that I'm meant for something in this life. I saw a psychic. I saw a palmist. I read my own tarot cards once twice, three times. I read about my life path number. I read my traditional horoscope. I read my CHINESE horoscope. I read into my name. I read into my birth date.

Everything told me the exact same thing. But what do I do with this knowledge?

I got my mom to buy me crystals to banish anxiety and depression. Crystals for love. Crystals for joy. For abundance. For balance.

Crystals to place under your pillow at night, meant to open your third-eye.

I meditated and asked to be shown where I'm supposed to go, what I'm supposed to do, who the fuck I am. I asked to be shown signs during the day, and at night.

So far, spiders have started following me again. That hasn't happened since September 2013. They usually appear when I'm going down the right path. I remember them appearing only at times when I've been happily moving forward. But I'm not happy and I'm definitely not moving...

It appears my guides want me to stay put. Hence not hearing back about the loan I'd need for school, not being able to go back to BB's uncle's house, and not not being able to go literally anywhere because I ruined my fucking car. Which is exactly what the psychic, what the palmist, and what my cards have said: you need to rest.

The last week I've been putting different crystals under my pillow at night. Jade each night (apparently it's the "dream" stone), and then adding a mix of rose quartz, citrine, and/or moonstone.

Since doing this, I've had a restless sleep each night. I wake up after about two hours each night, and then proceed to toss and turn until morning.

I've had dreams every single night which is cool because rarely do I ever remember my dreams.

Last night though I wanted a real sign. An intense sign. So, for some stupid fucking reason I decided to put under my pillow jade, and not one but TWO moonstones.

I should mention that the first night when I put the jade under my pillow it burned my hand when I was putting "intent" into it. And then when I was trying to fall asleep, the burning went to the back of my head.

Last night when I was holding all three stones, I got the burning feeling again so I decided to just put the jade in front of me while I held one moonstone in each hand. Then I felt the two individual vibrations the moonstones were putting off. It was like their vibes were competing with each other; like when you're trying to force two of the same magnetic poles together.

As I was trying to fall asleep, thoughts were floating around my head. I had a thought of rolling into BB's arms, and as I did I got that previous burning feeling, in my heart. Could be just anxiety, could be these CURSED FUCKING STONES.

Like clockwork, I woke up about two hours later from the scariest dream I think I've ever had.

Long story short, the US government was working with aliens to conduct a worldwide "project". There was a PSA message saying that shortly everyone's homes would be invaded, and that no one would be missed. The group had a name, it was "The Water" somethings, I can't remember...

But yeah, everyone was either being murdered or rounded up and sent to concentration camps that had somehow already been made. This was being done super quick because the organization was MASSIVE apparently, and also because well, aliens.

We got the PSA in Canada and everyone was scared and confused, wondering if it was actually legit. But then I saw these massive spaceships fly into my city and I was like FUCK. In the dream I was living with BB in our old apartment. But he couldn't come home because of work apparently. So I was alone and so fucking scared. All I could do while I waited was watch people in the states live-stream their last moments online. The organization was obviously controlling it because their logo and little jingle would play before any video would start.

It was so scary. I woke up and was like, "This could literally be happening RIGHT fucking now without me knowing it."
So just to be safe, I went and slept in my mom's bed for the rest of the night and had zero dreams because there were zero crystals fucking me up.

Today I washed all my crystals, trying to get past negative energy off of them. I even smudged them for extra effect. Hopefully I sleep better tonight. Hopefully I actually get an ANSWER, and hopefully I can clear my mind.

- Mint.

The story about the wings.

Okay,

back to changing up what I was saying hahaha

I think that for the MOST part, I'm not insane. But with the whole manipulation weird evil shit I got goin', that's definitely not a "leo" thing. That's just an evil insane person thing.

So yeah, I'm sick in the head but not as much as other people think I am.


That's all I really have to say for this post so let me use this as an opportunity to tell you a story I think I forgot to mention about this previous Wednesday night out...

So it's Wednesday, wing Wednesday in college town party place western Canada. My smart, not so intense friend, A, invites me out for wings and I obviously say yes. Because, since breaking my 10 year vegetarian diet, wings and hotdogs are the only meat I enjoy LOL

I say yes ALSO because the place we normally go to has Caesars on special and I've just discovered that I AM OBSESSED WITH THEM.

She asks, and I agree.

THEN, ohhhh ho ho, THEN she asks if she can bring her friend J along.

Since I've already said yes I have to allow it or else I'm a bitch LOL obviously. So I say it's fine and get ready to go.

I should mention that I actually know J. She was pledging in the sorority when I was and actually ended up as pledge princess hahaha I didn't really hang out with her much because she's quiet and super innocent and that's just not my jam.

ALSO, when I met her she was full-fledged anorexic; diagnosed and everything. She had never even had a period before in her life. Obviously I disliked her because she was skinnier than me but whatever, it didn't matter because I dropped out of school after a couple months meaning I also dropped out of the sorority. After that I only ever saw J at like one tiny party that A had.

TWO YEARS LATER, J is in recovery. She was also put on hormones recently and has had 2 periods; welcome to woman-hood J.

She's also obviously gained weight, a lot of weight.

Now, I'm all for recovery, like good for you, you can enjoy life now blahblahblah. But for me and my corrupted mind I was like, "Ha! Fat bitch."

If you're still dealing with your eating disorder you probably know this thought. You know that it's your evil ED voice talking and you know that it's mean to think but... it's true.

So seeing her obviously gives me a giant confident boost hahaha I was already feeling confident because I know I'm the most daring and loud of the bunch (meaning that I'm going to get a lot of the attention especially if we go out-out), but NOWWWW due to a divine miracle, I am now the skinniest.

I AM THE SKINNIEST, TALLEST, BLONDEST, AND HAVE THE LONGEST HAIR!

If A didn't have some of the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen, I'd be the prettiest too; but I judged her and I as at least a tie in that category. I've got some pretty eyes too so yeah LOL

Walking down the street with my possy, seductively smoking and purposely smiling in a certain flirtatious way for those around me to see, I felt good. I felt great.

I had finally become the girl little Mint had always dreamt of, I had made it. When did this happen? How can I be who I've always dreamed of and still feel uncomfortable with how I look? God, I need to actually believe myself when I think I'm looking good, because now I think it's actually true.

We get to the place and order. I get extra-hot wings obviously (it raises the fuck out of your metabolism, hot sauce has close to zero calories, and the spice will make me eat slower), A gets honey heat, and J gets salt+pepper. We all get Caesars (mine without the rim) and the night officially begins!!

J eats all of her wings like incredibly fast, and then she finishes the last 4 wings A had left on her plate. I'm laughing at this sight non-stop in my head. I'm such a fucking bitch, I'm sorry...

Since I'm leading the conversation, had a huge 3 ounce Caesar before I even met up with the girls, and had 2 double Caesar's during the meal, I only ended up eating 4 out of 12 wings.

I think, "YAAAAAAAS" because we all know I'm going to carry these fuckers with me all night just so I can eat them before bed. I'm fucking stoked.

But as I'm shoving the box into my tiny purse J offers to put them in her own bag since it's bigger. I think that's super sweet and I hand over my prized procession.

After drinking 2 triple margaritas at my favourite Mexican bar we head to the strippers because A loves them lol

This is where I think drunk Mint made a mistake...

I told J she could throw out the wings if she was sick of carrying them. I think my exact words were, "Do whatever with them, I don't fucking care."

WELL OBVIOUSLY I DO CARE AND ANYONE ELSE WHO KNOWS ME WOULD BE LIKE, "LOL sure, yeah, okay Mint. Like you're not going to be dreaming of these bad boys as soon as we leave then club."

Right? RIGHT? B knows. Fuck she'd probably stop me right there to eat them just so she could stop carrying around my fucking doggy bags hahaha

Unfortunately though, I'm not with B. I'm with a very hungry, ex-anorexic.

Long story short, once we get home from the club we walk into A's apartment and I'm the last one in. I take my shoes off, not paying attention because I'm fighting with BB over text when I look up... to a horror of the ages.

They're going to put this in the history books I swear, fucking mass destruction is what this is.

I look up, excited about eating all the rest of my fucking wings. I can imagine the ranch dripping off those saucy bastards. I can even imagine the smell of the Frank's RedHot.

Wait a second... I do smell Frank's RedHot!

I look up, and shock is the only way I can describe it.

THIS ANOREXIC FUCKING BITCH, ATE ALL 8 OF MY WINGS.

I REPEAT: SHE ATE NOT 1, NOT 2, NOT 3 OR 4 BUT ALL EIGHT FUCKING WINGS.

IN THE TIME IT TOOK US TO WALK THROUGH THE DOOR AND TAKE OFF OUR SHOES, SHE ATE ALL MY FUCKING WINGS.

AND I'M NOT BEING DRAMATIC HERE, SHE ATE THAT FAST AT DINNER TOO. SHE DEVOURED THEM!

I was fucking livid. I could've fucking strangled her.

I was with two soft-partier friends, drunk with no drugs, no after party or drunk boys trying to pick me up... my fucking BOYFRIEND JUST FUCKING BROKE UP WITH ME, AND I MADE OUT WITH A DUDE THAT DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH MY GODDAMN FUCKING BUTT.

Like no, no; not okay man.

Even though I said she could do whatever with them, at least fucking ask if anyone would like some after a long boring night. Like fuck.

It's almost been a week and I'm still fucking mad hahaha but don't worry friends, I'm going with A for more wings on Wednesday and J is gone to do this year of uni in Europe, so my wings are safe friends :) my wings are safe...

♥︎,

Mint! 💋

More zodiac shit; sorry not sorry.

Okay.

I feel like ever since the, "this is why I'm a bad person" post I've been trying to like... re-explain myself. Trying to make what I had said seem different than how it was presented.

But now I'm thinking that I'm more developing the original ideas.

See, originally I was thinking that my need for attention, drama, and impulsivity was due to a mental illness, ie. BPD.

BUT, nowwww I'm thinking that's more of just who I am. Which makes sense because personality disorders are disorders to do with your personality; duh. I'm going even further with it though.

I'm talkin' sun signs people!

If you know me in person or have read my blog for awhile, you know that I'm alllll about that zodiac. Yes, it's not always accurate; yes, it's not scientific; but for me, in my life, the people I meet usually tend to fit their role.

I'm not going to try to convince you all about my beliefs with it (shoutout to the conversation I had with B's boyfriend about zodiac signs that lasted for what seemed to be FOREVER), but I am going to state my most recent thoughts.

I AM A LEO.

Hello! Yes, it is very nice to meet me.

If you read like any write-up about leos you'll read that we are insanely dramatic, passionate, and impulsive.

We attract attention wherever we go, and we love it. All the world's a stage and we're in the centre of it.

We're the most generous out of all the signs, and our excited energy is absorbed by everyone around us; we're a real fucking treat to be around, you're welcome.

Because of the previously listed attributes, we exude passion. With a fiery energy such as this, intuition and impulsivity come naturally.

So this is what I'm getting at. I think I'm not insane. I think that the people around me just don't know what the fuck I am. And because of this, I'm feeling like I'm being suffocated which is resulting in a very sporadic, frantic, and intense energy.

Lately, out of nowhere, I'll get incredibly anxious feeling. A type of anxiety that I've never really had before. It feels like I need to run, or produce something right away. I think it's my body's way of releasing this pent up "leo energy", since I'm repressing it so much.

EVERYONE IS TELLING ME THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME, THAT I'M NOT NORMAL, THAT I'M THINKING INCORRECTLY...

After awhile of person after person saying the same thing, it sort of puts a toll on a girl. It makes me start to believe that what they're saying is true.

Yet no one knows how to "fix" me.

I think I can't be fixed because I'm not broken.

We all know that if I'm feeling confident with my everyday life, if I'm producing work I'm generally passionate about, I'm not anxious or depressed at all.

So what I think is that I need to stop listening to everyone because they're wrong. I think I need to see a fucking psychic LOL

Because, I have all this frustrated leo energy in me that's not being channeled properly. Maybe they can look inside their crystal ball and tell me what's up. Tell me which path to pursue.

That's the real problem actually, I don't know what the fuck I want in life, so everything to me seems pointless. I read too that the leo is all about "identity". So until I find out who I am, I won't be able to progress. My last therapist told me that actually, probably the only good advice I got from her hahaha

I need to figure stop trying to please people. I need to accept myself and own it.

So yeah...

Those are my "today" thoughts.

I think that's why I'm craving getting into trouble; leo angst. I want to cause a scene, do stupid random shit, and do it without remorse.

Yup, I'm an adolescent lion.

- Mint.

Tic-Tok-Thyme 2.0: Ghosts and Guns

I had to change my URL after that last post... just incase.

I really don't want BB reading that, so even if for some fucked up reason he knew my old URL, he won't know this one... right?

This is the first time in the history of this blog that I have changed the URL. Which is a big deal. I only change my usernames for a reason; usually when a new chapter of my life begins, and this is no exception.

I no longer feel like the 17-year-old girl who started this blog, which is probably a good thing since I'm now 23.

Yes, I still feel like a ghost, going through life without living; forever waiting for nothing.

But now, I'm angry about it hahaha no longer a peaceful ghost minding their own business, no. I'm fucking haunting shit.

Plus, this is fairly close to the username I use for my personal accounts, so that's cool.

After yesterday's post, I feel pretty embarrassed to admitting to all of that. I understand why everyone tells me I have BPD, apparently I'm fucking manipulative as hell, and without a conscious. I'm just some sort of attention-craving whore. Weird, never realized it.

I watched Chicago this morning when I couldn't sleep and goddamn do I want to be Roxie Hart. Or just a jazzy cabaret singer, Lana Del Rey is my biggest idol. Someone mysterious, sexy, innocent, but bad.

Maybe if I stay single I could hit that persona up a bit better than how I try to do it now. Like in the clubs I mean. I want to get better at having all the attention on me, but also I don't want to bounce from stupid boy to stupid boy in a night and end up with nothing. I need to capture everyone, and then put most of my focus on one person, that'll end up better I think.

I'd definitely need to make sure I don't get in too deep either, because I'm bad at that. I get my feelings in there even though I don't really care about the person. I care whether or not they care about me. So I should stop that, because it's dumb and makes me sad.

I also need to somehow update my wardrobe. I'm obsessed with slip dresses, fishnets, stockings/garters, visible bralettes, moto boots, thigh-high boots, leather jackets, and a smokey eye. That's my FW '16/17 must-haves. Don't judge me.

BUT, if I don't stay single I'm going to go home and stay there forever. I want someone to own me really, and look after me. I don't know why but I want to live for someone. That's fucked up. I've been having a lot of weird thoughts like that lately. But yeah, it's a kink I've been dreaming about. Like Harley Quinn and the Joker in Suicide Squad; I'll do anything to make him happy. DON'T JUDGEEEEEE.

I'll go home, finish my bachelor online, work while getting my masters and start my own practice. Fuck if I'm ever going to have kids though. He wants kids, I say I'll have kids, I won't have kids. I'll just fucking lie if that's my life. Whatever.

The thing is, right now, I want to self-destruct. I want to do everything I'm not supposed to do. I'm craving trouble and drama. Because I don't fucking care. I hope I die, I'll probably kill myself soon, but if I don't die, I want to destroy everything. I want to express my fucked up mind, I want to show off my insanity, because I truly believe I'm insane now. I mean, my therapist quit on me, and everyone says people with BDP are basically sociopaths. So let's run with it.

Maybe I don't even mean any of this stuff. Maybe I'll change my mind about everything tomorrow, or in an hour, or next week. I hate not knowing if what I think is how I actually think or not. Oh well, let's see what happens.

Not being afraid of death is dangerous. Not caring what happens to you and your body is troubling. Spitting in the face of your own life isn't normal or desirable. But here I am, take me or leave me.

A self-corrupted mind, and chosen insanity.

This is ghosts and guns; lust and love.

Let's get fucked up.

- Mint.

This is why I'm a bad person.

I'm going to tell you all why I'm a terrible person, and why I deserve terrible things to happen to me; why I deserve to be without love; and why I deserve to be dead.

Well, maybe not to the extent of death but still, I long for it.

From the age of 5 to 13, I wanted to grow up to be a singer/actress. I wanted to be rich, famous, glamorous and sexy as fuck.

When my mom would curl my hair, I'd always get her to position one curl covering one of my eyes for a mysterious, Jessica Rabbit sort of look.

I'd wear feather boas; practice fainting sexily onto a couch; practice my model walk with one hand on my hip, two hands, no hands (variety is the spice of life).

I wore platform heels to school, and tied my shirt up in a knot during gym to show off my "hot bod".

I loved when boys would chase me on the playground trying to kiss me, I loved flirting with boys just so I'd have a higher number of admirers.

This was all going on from kindergarten up until grade two. Grade two is when I had to go to this catholic school where people made fun of me on the first day for literally everything. That's when I stop trying to stand out. That's when I was told that I was ugly and no one liked me and I was weird and annoying and stupid and UGH!!

High school was obviously no better. I never felt pretty or as if anyone liked me the entire time. Probably because my friends ingrained it into my head that I definitely, without a doubt, was ugly annoying and weird, just like everyone else had told me.

This one time when I was like 15 or something, this older, weird ginger dude had a mad crush on me and really wanted to be an item. I obviously said no because I didn't like him like that at ALL, but I remember my one "friend" H, making a huge deal about it. I know she wanted me to go out with him just so she could laugh.

She sent me a text saying, "You know you're not pretty or anything, no one else is going to ever ask you out. Plus he's nice so you should just say yes."

She actually said that. And I actually believed her, and I actually remained friends with her for at least another year.

Sidenote: she was always always a cunt to me. The day before 9th grade, she told all my other friends that I spread all these rumours about how they do drugs or some shit. AND THEY BELIEVED HER. Fuck I hate thinking about this shit still...

Anyway, all of this has made me never believe compliments given to me. To the point where I don't even hear them anymore. I hate myself so absolutely that I... well that I've scarred my body the way I have, and that I've starved it and stuffed it the way I have, that I've allowed people to treat me wrongly, and have agreed that I've deserved it.

Obviously this isn't what makes me a bad person. What makes me a bad person is that I forget that other people have feelings. I forget that sometimes, they need looking after; that they have insecurities; that they need reassurance; and that they don't know what I'm thinking, so they don't know how I truly feel about something unless I tell them.

I forget these things, and it makes me a bad friend. It makes me selfish, and it makes me a terrible person to trust and to love.

I automatically think that everyone hates me and thinks I'm the scum of the earth. SO, why would it matter if I dipped out on plans last minute? They're probably grateful that I bailed again.

Why would they take anything I say to heart? What's the point in opening up? In laying my heart out right there in plain sight? Why should I trust anyone. Why should I?

I'm a bad friend because I don't reply to people. I forget to ask them how they're doing and I forget to follow up. I forget that they feel. I forget their birthdays. I'm no fucking good.

I'm selfish in the sense that I ditch anyone and everyone I go out with. I end up self-destructing and making the night about me, and making them look after me. I'm selfish because if I don't have all eyes on me, then there's something wrong and it needs to be changed NOW.

I'm wrong because I'll purposely make a guy think I adore him just so I can get free premium drinks, but then go upstairs and make out with someone completely different. BUT THEN, while sitting in a circle with a bunch of people, notice another girl there and totally talk her out of the circle.

When I drink, I look for drama. I look to be the best person there. I look to be the one that everyone wants to listen to, and to admire.

I look for love, and then once I have it I like to make people jealous. I want people fighting over me.

When BB and I first got together I did this all the time. I'd sit close to other guys, put my feet up on their chairs, laugh at whatever the fuck they were saying, just to get a rise out of him. Which obviously worked and then I'd stupidly act like I didn't do a thing.

I even think that thing that happened last September was my fault. Because I knew who I was kissing, and I wanted him to want me that entire night. I got him to fucking break up with his girlfriend that night actually. And I fucking whispered his name right before we kissed.

I think I did it for validation actually. I wanted someone who hated me in high school regret the mean things they did, and I wanted them to admit that I wasn't ugly and annoying and weird like they once had thought. I wanted to be an object of fucking desire.

I want to be a girl of mystery and sadness. Someone people want to save. But at the same time, I want to be so confident and loud and sexy, that when I tell them about how sad I actually am, they feel important and special because I've chosen to tell them my intimate secrets.

At the same time, I do know I was definitely drugged that night. Because me going and having sex with some dude from high school while my boyfriend waited for me in the car isn't a limit to which I'd ever push something. And me not knowing where I was, and who I was with originally is all true, also I couldn't stop it once it started; and I did want it to stop.

I shouldn't be to blame, but I know I am.

Most times actually it was me who had pushed BB to flip out on me. I knew he was jealous if I paid too much attention to any guy. I definitely subtly flirted with all his friends. Because again, I love attention, I love being the only girl, I love people loving me.

So I'd eagerly await every word when they'd tell a story. I'd sit almost too close. I'd make sure their drinks were always full, they'd make sure they always had vodka, straws, and ice for me. I'd be so excited for hugs. I'd enchant them with my smile and laughter. I'd make them feel like they were the only person in the room with just my eye-contact. I'd make them all be on my side when my relationship was rough. They'd be the ones to save me. And I did it all on purpose. To make BB jealous.

Of course it worked and of course no one else saw what he saw. Of course he took it too far, of course I was a poor little girl who deserved better.

I always wanted him to push me or hit me or choke me. I don't know why. I just want to be hit. Maybe because I know I deserve it, but he's only ever slapped me 4 times.

I push him when we're fighting, and I get right up in his face, trying to think of what I can say to get him to hit me, but he's always maintained enough control to avoid it.

Even when he ripped through the doors, I kinda wanted it to happen. The first I wanted to see if he'd actually do it; the second to see if he'd really do it again.

I don't know why I'm like this, but I always pretend I'm in a movie. I do things on purpose to get a certain effect and it usually works. They follow my script for the most part.

I've even caught myself doing it with my mother. I could get away with anything if I wanted to. I'm not a fucking idiot. I just play things out a certain way to "accidentally" be caught.

I never thought of it as manipulation for some reason though. Maybe because I've convinced myself that this movie isn't something I created, it's just rolling... or maybe I give such little fucks that I do it for some sort of sick entertainment? I have no idea.

This is why I'm a terrible person.

And I don't know what to do about it. I don't know if I care enough about it, because I care about very little right now. Thoughts of suicide litter my mind. Life is dumb, life is pointless. I'd like to leave.

- Mint.

I'm a bird in a fucking cage.

It's currently 2:10 AM and I've been freaking out for a good hour now.

I'm not going to catch you up on what's happened this past month but I'll tell you about what's happening now.

I am currently trapped at my mothers house. Literally, I've been trapped and I don't know how to get out.

I became trapped last Monday when I decided that it was time to go home to my boyfriend instead of leaving him and moving elsewhere.

It was more than obvious that everyone in my life other than my boyfriend had strong opinions about how I should be moving to Kelowna. I had ultimatums set with friends and family, people yelling at me for even thinking about going back, people hating me for going back, like it was a lot. Which hurts. But whatever, I'm pretty used to people leaving me by now. I'm surprised I have one and a half people left in my life.

Anyway, I decided to go back. I had all my shit packed in my car, had fought with my mom in the driveway for an hour and was ready to go!!

I'm not going to go into details about what happened next because it literally took up six pages in my paper journal. So to summarize, my car broke before I even had a chance to get gas.

I phoned my mom after crying in a parking lot for awhile and she helped me get my car to the shop.

Here's where some important background information will come in handy. My car was having problems before I even got to my moms house a week before. When I told her about them she said we should take it down to the shop and she'd pay to get it fixed (I still have no job by the way). I told her that'd be nice but we couldn't because my car isn't insured or registered so it would get reported and seized if I took it in. At this point in time I was going to move to Kelowna so she told me she'd get my car insured/registered under her name and them AFTER, we could get it fixed without any worry.

WELL, I obviously didn't get my car insured because I didn't choose Kelowna. Hell, I didn't even get the gas money she had offered.

So, when I was on the phone with her I reminded her about the no insurance/registration thing and she told me, "Don't worry, I know the owner."

SHE SAID DON'T WORRY. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT NOW RIGHT? WRONGGGGGG

After like two days of tinkering they figure it's going to be like an $800 job. This is already a problem because my mom only offered $300 in repairs. So I'm talking to my boyfriend, trying to come up with how to get the remaining $500 when I'm dropped with a fucking NUCLEAR BOMB.

They found a "problem" with the registration of the car and won't work on it OR release it until it's fixed.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I fucking spaz. Because to get a car registered here, you need insurance. And for me to get insurance the cheapest I can get it for is if I can drop $700 in one go.

AND SO EVEN IF I CAN SOMEHOW FIND $700, I'D STILL NEED $800 MORE TO FUCKING BE ABLE TO GET THE DAMN THING MOVING.

As soon as this happens mom puts up her hands and is like, "this isn't my problem!"

Which, I kind of understand because YES, I am the one who is driving an uninsured/registered car. BUT SHE'S THE ONE WHO TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THAT BECAUSE SHE KNEW THE GUY!!!

I mean, I could've driven home slowly and everything would've been fine.

Mom too is totally against helping me out with a loan. So like... I don't understand what to do.

I can't leave here because literally everything I own is in that car. I can't leave here because buses are expensive and also I have extreme anxiety now and would never be able to do it. BUT, I also can't get a job (I've had 5 calls for interviews this fucking week that I had to say no to) to pay for anything because I'm here. I also can't get a job here because my mom is moving to a different town on the 5th and I won't have enough time to save.

SO SERIOUSLY WHAT DO I DO?

My boyfriend and I are also supposed to be out of the apartment on the 20th so we're fucked there too because we have no way to get the furniture out! SOOO, I'll lose probably most of my damage deposit ($750) because the apartment will have all our shit in it that they'll have to deal with. I'll have to pay them, to throw out all our fucking furniture. Like what the fuck.

I'm going insane here. I was police escorted to the hospital the other night too because I was yelling and screaming at my mom in her car (about how she won't help me, how she literally got me trapped here on PURPOSE just because she didn't like my decision) when for some reason I decided to start kicking her BMW's windshield repetitively until it smashed (another $700).

My mom was driving me to the hospital while I was doing this because I was also threatening suicide since I have no idea what to do. We get to the hospital and she leaves the car to go to the front desk and I'm waiting in the car when I realize I don't need to wait there. So I start walking off, without an idea on where I'm going.

I end up going home where the police are already waiting for me (idk why my mom didn't just call me or pick me up, she would've seen me walking). They asked me questions and took me to the hospital to be assessed.

WHILE WAITING FOR AN HOUR, more cops came and were chilling with the cop that was with me. This one blonde butch bitch decided she wanted to piss me off more than I already was. She asked me questions (she somehow knew about my situation) and was being so ignorant about my entire relationship. She even called me a druggy when I mentioned how I was almost raped in September.

"You said you were messed up, so what's your drug of choice? Meth? Crack?"

NO BITCH MESSED UP AS IN DRUGGED. BUT WAS THIS FACT A CONCERN TO ANY OF YOU GUYS WHEN ALL OF THIS HAPPENED? NO. MUST BECAUSE I'M A METH HEAD LIKE MY BROTHER WHO JUST GOT OUT OF REHAB.

Why am I supposed to respect cops again...?

Anyway blahblahblah I said I wouldn't hurt myself and they sent me home to an understandably grumpy mother.

Anyway, everyday is the same now. I just sit in my old room alone. Not knowing what the fuck to do and how the fuck to get out. I want to die so bad. I don't think I've ever wanted death this much. I literally have no other way out.

I was sitting around 126.4 but I'm pretty sure I'm gained do to all the fucking food I'm being given by my mother. That's stressing me out a lot too. All this goddamn fucking food. I'm gonna lose my thigh gap I just know it! But I've only had it for a couple weeks :(

Today I got to thinking about how I'm turning 23 soon and that has made me even more depressed. I have wasted my youth on nothing. A fascade of a love story, and I am now just old and faded. No career, no love, no life, no experience, no friends.

I hate everything and everyone because I have no one.

I'm no longer a cute, young, little 20-year-old. No one looks at me like I'm special anymore, no one wants to talk to me anymore. Everyone's just mean; and I'm just old and hagered... I'M A HAS BEEN.

WHY COULDN'T I HAVE JUST DIED IN THAT GODDAMN FUCKING TUB.

- Mint.

Dear BB,

I fucking hate you.

I hate you for making me love you. I hate you for stringing me along for two years with your lies.

I hate that I trusted you again and again after you'd lie to me time after time. I hate that you're making me feel this way.

I DON'T WANT TO FEEL THIS WAY.

You were supposed to be my one and only. You were supposed to love me forever and unconditionally. You were supposed to look after me and make me happy.

In the beginning everything was so magical. I fit in your arms like no other; your kiss was addicting.

You told me I was special. You told me you knew I was put on this earth for you. You gave me confidence and happiness. I was the happiest little girl, in love with her BB.

I don't want to go through all the hurt you've put me through over the past 24 months. They're already written in type, in ink, and scarred into my skin. No, I don't want to go over the mistakes you've made with us.

Can they be called mistakes if you were consciously choosing to make them?

Point blank, you never cared about me. You never loved me, never thought I was irreplaceable. I was just someone you could use to get what you wanted. That's all. Someone you can emotionally beat up when you were angry, someone you could manipulate to act how you wanted.

You disrespected me so fucking much.

You'd say how much you loved me and how you could never be with anyone else while you were actively trying to fucking fuck other girls!

You make me feel worthless, and I guess I accepted this type of treatment because I am fucking worthless.

But know what? I may be worthless but I don't need to be hurt and disrespected this fucking often. I can't stand you walking all over me.

I wish I had died in the fucking bathtub. Because I know I don't want to be without you BB.

You're the worst person in this entire world but I've seen when you were the best. Not many people get to see that BB. The best BB.

I don't want to be without you because I love you. Because you give me meaning and purpose in this terrible life. At least I had someone to hold and to love and to wipe away my tears and rip through my insecurities.

I don't want to go back to my apartment in Kelowna. You tainted it by fucking The Cunt there. That was the first time my apartment had experienced sex, and it was with you and her.

I don't want to cry all my makeup off every night onto my pillows again. I don't want to wake up without you. I don't want to do anything without you.

I don't want to be an alcoholic again. Drinking to feel numb, to pass out so I don't have to experience the day, the night. I don't want to self-harm on my closet floor again at 2 in the morning hoping that I can cut deep enough. I don't want anyone else to even try to come into my life.

Why did you do this to me? What did I do so wrong to be treated like this? I fucking love you and you don't care!

You think you care, you think you love. But you don't.

I can't remember who told me this but they said you weren't capable of love. And I think they were right.

Don't think that I'm leaving because I want to. Don't think that I'm going to have an awesome life without you.

I honestly give myself about a month before I succeed in killing myself. Because there is no fucking point in being here without you. There was no point before you, why would there be a point after you?

I don't want some "nice guy". I don't want a proper guy. You are the only one who can handle my crazy head. I am so possessive and dependent and emotional, who would put up with that?

We lasted this long because we can handle each other, because we get where the other is coming from, because we've both been through shit. Not everyone will understand people like you and I, not everyone can tolerate being with people like us.

You are truly the only guy I've been attracted to. You're the only guy who makes me feel safe no matter where we go. You're tough, and sexy, and goofy, and adorable, and you make me so fucking happy.

WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN US!?!?

Lying from start to finish.

I don't want to write anymore.

I fucking love you BB. But you've hurt me so much, and for too long. I love you and only you but you're making me leave you.

There's no one who can even compare to you. We were supposed to be for-eva-eva. We were supposed to get married. You were supposed to love me when I was no longer young and beautiful.

I love you the first time
I love you the last time
Yo soy la princesa, comprende mis white lines
'Cause I'm your jazz singer
And you're my cult leader

I love you forever
I love you forever.