sullirose
Well-known member
Hey all,
I can't say that I've had the most wonderful life, or loneliest. But there surly is a reason for me being here.
I live in the south, to start off with, and I'm from the north, to continue with...and it's been an absolute hell transition.
Now I've never been much against change, I was excited to move to an entirely new culture. But the irony prevails here...nothing changes. I've been here for four years and resisted as best I can during the first two. I kept my well-being intact and my self esteem proper, and I gave every last one of the son of a bitches I'd met a chance.
I've been lied to by more people that I'd met in the north, in a year and a half. Perhaps it was about growing up as I was only 19, fresh of high school, adapting to being my father's slave as my parents divorce ensued...
Or perhaps the south (the mountains, specifically I mean) just doesn't enjoy a yankee's style of service. You know...where we actually are on time and do the work? I don't chew the fat...and i fear never will. I fear, because I don't want to continue to be dead inside. It's a sickly sad place I'm at; beautiful in the riches of the land and desperately ill of human waste. Their minds, I mean. I have never met so many...just...dead people. They don't know what life is outside their moonshine and relatives land. I'd respected this and embraced it enough at one point that I'd gotten knocked up by a farmer boy with land and a family I thought liked me. They didn't when they found out I was attending college and was from Connecticut. I was shocked. I mean, I've been bullied, teased, beaten, chastised in school, by my family...but never ever by a complete stranger. I guess I had more respect for others, maybe I was raised that way by not being raised that way. And maybe the ideal "southerner" was raised in a parallel situation to mine, because that's how I ended up in love, pregnant, cheated on and abandoned.
I've got a son that I love but I can't seem to take care of my own needs, which essentially means I can't take care of his to my best abilities. I've resorted to staying with the man who has torn my life to shreds because I can't function as a single mother. I have tried, I left him at 5 months pregnant when I found out he'd been cheating on me for a month with his best friends sister we met at the best friends wedding. Complicated drama, I've never been a part of drama...my heart literally started having problems and I was induced early. I didn't get back together with him until my son was 4 months old...and he continued to cheat on me with two other women who didn't know about me. They made me feel like I was the bad one, one even stalks us and he refused to stop any of it. I'm not sure what to do about all this but it sure as hell is killing me. Sometimes I just don't feel anything. My son's laughter is the only thing that can make me feel any spark of life, but when he's sick or upset...I feel like it's my fault for bringing him into this situation. A place where I can't show him how wonderful life is because I have been lied to by life myself that I can't seem to do it to anyone.
Okay, that's enough whining for now. My name's Amanda and I'm 22 years old. Emphasis on the old.
I can't say that I've had the most wonderful life, or loneliest. But there surly is a reason for me being here.
I live in the south, to start off with, and I'm from the north, to continue with...and it's been an absolute hell transition.
Now I've never been much against change, I was excited to move to an entirely new culture. But the irony prevails here...nothing changes. I've been here for four years and resisted as best I can during the first two. I kept my well-being intact and my self esteem proper, and I gave every last one of the son of a bitches I'd met a chance.
I've been lied to by more people that I'd met in the north, in a year and a half. Perhaps it was about growing up as I was only 19, fresh of high school, adapting to being my father's slave as my parents divorce ensued...
Or perhaps the south (the mountains, specifically I mean) just doesn't enjoy a yankee's style of service. You know...where we actually are on time and do the work? I don't chew the fat...and i fear never will. I fear, because I don't want to continue to be dead inside. It's a sickly sad place I'm at; beautiful in the riches of the land and desperately ill of human waste. Their minds, I mean. I have never met so many...just...dead people. They don't know what life is outside their moonshine and relatives land. I'd respected this and embraced it enough at one point that I'd gotten knocked up by a farmer boy with land and a family I thought liked me. They didn't when they found out I was attending college and was from Connecticut. I was shocked. I mean, I've been bullied, teased, beaten, chastised in school, by my family...but never ever by a complete stranger. I guess I had more respect for others, maybe I was raised that way by not being raised that way. And maybe the ideal "southerner" was raised in a parallel situation to mine, because that's how I ended up in love, pregnant, cheated on and abandoned.
I've got a son that I love but I can't seem to take care of my own needs, which essentially means I can't take care of his to my best abilities. I've resorted to staying with the man who has torn my life to shreds because I can't function as a single mother. I have tried, I left him at 5 months pregnant when I found out he'd been cheating on me for a month with his best friends sister we met at the best friends wedding. Complicated drama, I've never been a part of drama...my heart literally started having problems and I was induced early. I didn't get back together with him until my son was 4 months old...and he continued to cheat on me with two other women who didn't know about me. They made me feel like I was the bad one, one even stalks us and he refused to stop any of it. I'm not sure what to do about all this but it sure as hell is killing me. Sometimes I just don't feel anything. My son's laughter is the only thing that can make me feel any spark of life, but when he's sick or upset...I feel like it's my fault for bringing him into this situation. A place where I can't show him how wonderful life is because I have been lied to by life myself that I can't seem to do it to anyone.
Okay, that's enough whining for now. My name's Amanda and I'm 22 years old. Emphasis on the old.
