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About Traditional Art / Hobbyist Member 14/Female/AustraliaFemale/Australia Group :icondevious-oddities: Devious-Oddities
 
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Once upon a time, my mother had my sister and I take IQ tests. I got a 135.

I don't take much stock in IQ tests, even if they are administered by a therapist, because there are so many ways they can differ from each other.

I ended up entering my high school years and realising my friends didn't think the same way I do, so I dumbed myself down. Severely.

Something has happened in the 14 or so years since we took those tests. I think I have gotten stupider. Not stupider in areas like random trivia or maths, but more in the areas of social interaction.

I have become an idiot in the minds of others because I fail to understand things they think are simple. The people closest to me think I'm stupid because I don't think about things like doing the dishes or taking the rubbish out without being asked, or because I don't understand when the person closest to me is trying to instigate sex. I can tell you the volume of a cone but I can't tell when the person who is supposed to love me unconditionally wants to be physical, intimately.

I can barely finish a sentence anymore without people thinking I have no idea what I'm talking about. I can't have an independent thought without some one thinking I've adopted my opinion from what my friends do or from what the news tells me. "Oh you want to have a break well you only want that because the latest episode of American Dad said it"

I can't be sad.

Being sad means I'm a 12 year old on tumblr, trying to get attention, any attention. It means I'm a drama queen and trivialises what has been done to me. It means I'm a grown up now and I have no reason to be so "emo" about what is done to me. My complaints are worth nothing because they aren't "real" complaints.

Hypocrisy means nothing. If I even dare to do the things that are done to me to other people I am automatically a terrible person who deserves to cry for hours upon hours about how pathetic her life is.

I'm not even allowed to talk about it because it's no one else's business, despite how many physical wounds it causes or how often I contemplate suicide as an alternative to this.

My life is not my own anymore and I can't even talk about it because if I do, I will be beaten to death within 24 hours.

If I break a promise, it's the end of the world, but if anyone else does, I have to suck it up and deal with it because I'm a grown up.

I have never felt so upset in my entire life, and still the person closest to me regards it as juvenile, trivial, and worthless, because he caused it.

All I wanted to do was drink myself to happiness tonight. Someone woke up and it turned out that no, I wasn't "allowed" to drink two of the last three ciders as well as the bottle of wine. I was just being selfish, for trying to drown the sorrows that he caused. If he did it (like the several other times I've woken up to a sudden lack of alcohol that should have been mine if things were divided equally like I'd thought, but nooooooo I'm supposed to accept less than anyone else because I'm automatically worth less than he is because I lack a Y chromosome) I'd be expected to just say "okay" and keep my sadness to myself. Anything short of that is selfish and pathetic and no one should have to be subject to how I feel because it's such a burden.

Because of all this, I try to avoid arguments, because I know it will always come back to me being an idiot. There is never any point in saying anything when it will be ignored and turned against you. My worst enemy is Logic because what is logical to me is illogical to him, and his Logic is the supreme law of the world. Anything that subverts this is wrong and should be punished.

I'm not even going to mention the whole attitude of "I've been nice for three days, you are obligated to forget every horrible thing I've done to you in the last year because of this" thing.

I'm sorry to make you read all this, the three people who still read my posts. It's just I've never felt closer to suicide in my life and I'm sick of being told I'm doing it just for the attention and I wish it would just end.
  • Mood: Lonely
Last night I was walking home from the supermarket, and I saw a possum crossing the road. I stopped, made cooing noises at it, like I always do with possums, in an attempt to make it comfortable around me (iunno) and allow it to keep walking. Unfortunately, it saw me and ran back across the road into the path of a taxi. I tried to shout at the taxi to stop, it was only going very slowly as it's a small street, but it was too late. The poor possum was squashed under the rear wheel of the car.

I just can't get the noise out of my head. I dropped my groceries.

The poor thing's head and forelegs were crushed under the tyre, but his tail kept thrashing and his back legs kept trying to walk away. It's been nine and a half hours and I keep replaying the scene in my head. White stuff oozed out of him as his tail stopped flailing around. It kept making squeaking noises, for about 20 seconds.

I have no idea if it was alive after it stopped moving, or if the movement was the result of spasms caused by the brain dying, I just feel so bad. I'm convinced that if it hadn't seen me, it wouldn't have tried to run back across the road. I've been having a hard time getting to sleep because all I can see when I close my eyes is that possum. The one time I got close to any sleep, I had a horrific waking dream where I was the possum as it was crushed. The only thing that could even be considered comforting is that he didn't suffer long. I don't think I would have been able to put him out of his misery. When I got home I was shaking and crying and I felt so sick and distressed.

I'd never seen an animal die in front of me before. I've seen possums after they'd been hit, just flattened in the street, but I'd never actually witnessed it before. I just can't get that crunching noise out of my head.

I've been sick twice. I'm hoping it's not because of what happened. I feel all screwed up inside. I want to burst into tears and scream and cry and completely exhaust myself so I can actually sleep. I haven't been sleeping well the last month or so anyway, so I have no idea if tonight is just another sleepless night, or if it's because of what happened. Ughh if I"m well enough to go to my casual work tonight I'll have to walk past the body. Dreading it completely.

All I can feel is this swirling nausea and pressure behind my eyes.
  • Mood: Lonely
Max by musical-box
Max
I went back home for Treemas and this little guy wouldn't leave me alone and I am so happy he didn't, although now I miss him terribly. Purrs so loud, with those big blue eyes and that squishable fur~
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Once upon a time, my mother had my sister and I take IQ tests. I got a 135.

I don't take much stock in IQ tests, even if they are administered by a therapist, because there are so many ways they can differ from each other.

I ended up entering my high school years and realising my friends didn't think the same way I do, so I dumbed myself down. Severely.

Something has happened in the 14 or so years since we took those tests. I think I have gotten stupider. Not stupider in areas like random trivia or maths, but more in the areas of social interaction.

I have become an idiot in the minds of others because I fail to understand things they think are simple. The people closest to me think I'm stupid because I don't think about things like doing the dishes or taking the rubbish out without being asked, or because I don't understand when the person closest to me is trying to instigate sex. I can tell you the volume of a cone but I can't tell when the person who is supposed to love me unconditionally wants to be physical, intimately.

I can barely finish a sentence anymore without people thinking I have no idea what I'm talking about. I can't have an independent thought without some one thinking I've adopted my opinion from what my friends do or from what the news tells me. "Oh you want to have a break well you only want that because the latest episode of American Dad said it"

I can't be sad.

Being sad means I'm a 12 year old on tumblr, trying to get attention, any attention. It means I'm a drama queen and trivialises what has been done to me. It means I'm a grown up now and I have no reason to be so "emo" about what is done to me. My complaints are worth nothing because they aren't "real" complaints.

Hypocrisy means nothing. If I even dare to do the things that are done to me to other people I am automatically a terrible person who deserves to cry for hours upon hours about how pathetic her life is.

I'm not even allowed to talk about it because it's no one else's business, despite how many physical wounds it causes or how often I contemplate suicide as an alternative to this.

My life is not my own anymore and I can't even talk about it because if I do, I will be beaten to death within 24 hours.

If I break a promise, it's the end of the world, but if anyone else does, I have to suck it up and deal with it because I'm a grown up.

I have never felt so upset in my entire life, and still the person closest to me regards it as juvenile, trivial, and worthless, because he caused it.

All I wanted to do was drink myself to happiness tonight. Someone woke up and it turned out that no, I wasn't "allowed" to drink two of the last three ciders as well as the bottle of wine. I was just being selfish, for trying to drown the sorrows that he caused. If he did it (like the several other times I've woken up to a sudden lack of alcohol that should have been mine if things were divided equally like I'd thought, but nooooooo I'm supposed to accept less than anyone else because I'm automatically worth less than he is because I lack a Y chromosome) I'd be expected to just say "okay" and keep my sadness to myself. Anything short of that is selfish and pathetic and no one should have to be subject to how I feel because it's such a burden.

Because of all this, I try to avoid arguments, because I know it will always come back to me being an idiot. There is never any point in saying anything when it will be ignored and turned against you. My worst enemy is Logic because what is logical to me is illogical to him, and his Logic is the supreme law of the world. Anything that subverts this is wrong and should be punished.

I'm not even going to mention the whole attitude of "I've been nice for three days, you are obligated to forget every horrible thing I've done to you in the last year because of this" thing.

I'm sorry to make you read all this, the three people who still read my posts. It's just I've never felt closer to suicide in my life and I'm sick of being told I'm doing it just for the attention and I wish it would just end.
  • Mood: Lonely

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musical-box
14/Female/Australia
Artist | Hobbyist | Traditional Art
Australia
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:iconproject-pestilence:
Project-Pestilence Featured By Owner Nov 29, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you for all the faves! :hug:
Reply
:iconmusical-box:
musical-box Featured By Owner Jan 18, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
No problem :hug:
Reply
:iconproject-pestilence:
Project-Pestilence Featured By Owner Sep 7, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the fave!! ;)
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:iconmusical-box:
musical-box Featured By Owner Sep 9, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
You're welcome :3
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:iconimagination-heart:
imagination-heart Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2014  Professional Traditional Artist
Thank you for the favorite!  :)
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:iconmusical-box:
musical-box Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
You're welcome. You have some very unique and interesting stuff, I wish I could do what you do :P
Reply
:iconimagination-heart:
imagination-heart Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2014  Professional Traditional Artist
Aww!  Just keep on making things!  :)
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:iconwhite-hand:
White-Hand Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Can I have a link to your shop please? I would be interested to see it!
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:iconmusical-box:
musical-box Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
The link to my shop is in my signature :)
Reply
:iconwhite-hand:
White-Hand Featured By Owner May 1, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Where is your signature?
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