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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 5 of 5. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by susan47 on January 19, 2008, at 11:28:42
It seems the only time I ever feel good is when I smoke marihuana. I hate smoking marihuana. It makes my teeth yellow in the front and I have to use non-staining stuff which is hard to use when you're always smoking and now I can see this two little yellow lines creeping up the front, and I used to care about my looks. I don't have much. I have a little but when it sparkles it's better, and it only feels sparkly, I only feel good about my looks and my mind and my body and my kids and my life, when I smoke marihuana. But the smoking itself is the thing that makes it all bad. It hurts my body, it hurts my memory, it makes anything without it feel bad.
Worse.
I wouldn't ever feel bad if I weren't myself. I've felt bad about life and bad about myself since I was three years old. I don't know why. I do in a way. It's the year we emigrated to Canada from Germany. It's a young age at which to lose hope. I don't know what happened. I don't remember much, only flashes and emotions. I don't know what happened. But I feel better, much better, about life when I can escape. I learned to escape a lot. I had the most vibrant, imaginative, cruel little people world you could imagine. I stopped short of cutting the little people to pieces, I stopped short of murdering them, but I was cruel to them. They were little paper-doll cut-outs I played with from the Sears catalogue, they were my little people. I also had hallucinations, one that I vividly remember. I guess I was damaged from a long time ago, but I don't think I was ever really unloved. I don't think I was ever really hated. I know I felt the force and velocity of the feeling of hate from my dad and anger and frustration and disappointment and weariness, fear from my mother.
Oh, god.
I hurt.
Posted by susan47 on January 19, 2008, at 11:31:09
In reply to My only goal, a Goal, posted by susan47 on January 19, 2008, at 11:28:42
And for mine, for both our sakes, for my own children, who have felt those emotions coming from me, this terrible version of who I am, for everyone's sake let it all stop now and I am fifty years old, and will never be three again. I will never be thirteen again, or 21, 26, 33 or 45. None of the ages of my life can be re-lived, only this moment is mine.
God, let me make the best of my moments.
I love you.
Posted by susan47 on January 19, 2008, at 12:08:11
In reply to My only goal, a Goal, posted by susan47 on January 19, 2008, at 11:28:42
Susan you're a liar. You don't feel good about your looks period anymore. You're old, you've become old and unhappy, you droop, your face is droopy because you're old and unhappy and no amount of makeup will change that. And you're not dressing the way you used to, you don't know if you can ever dress and look good again. You're old and ugly and you never did look good either, it was all in your head, but it was what was in your head that was important.
Now it all sucks.
Posted by susan47 on March 20, 2008, at 18:30:25
In reply to Huh, what sh*t. » susan47, posted by susan47 on January 19, 2008, at 12:08:11
All you who have the money, the privilege, the right brain chemistry, f*ck all you women who can look eternally young and beautiful, have whatever and whoever you wish, f*ck you all.
Wow. That felt really, really good.
F*ck you.
Posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 19:07:17
In reply to Princesses, posted by susan47 on March 20, 2008, at 18:30:25
I have this case of not understanding, not knowing what I am creating. Bless you, in fact, for showing me myself, for being the contrast I can step Into, for being such teachers ... of course, you have a reason for being, because you show so many of us how imperfect are our thoughts about ourselves, you show me how I really feel about my own imperfect self, and the Largeness of my feelings of disaffection with my own physical reality. I am more than what you see. I am more than what I see.
This is the end of the thread.
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