Sunday, July 10, 2016

August 6th

At the beginning of August 2014, I decided I wasn't gonna take shit from anyone anymore. I was gonna beat the crap out of anyone who messed with me. I was gonna go out into the world and do all the bad things I could do. I was never going to be a civilized, socialized human being again. I was Amelia Untamble and I would do whatever the fuck I wanted and no one could stop me. No one.

I posted a lot on Facebook about my plans to do horrible things that would make your blood run cold and leave you waking up at 3:00 AM with cold sweats and not even remembering what it once felt like to get a good night sleep. (Seriously, I wish you didn't have to be dead to become a ghost. If I could have any superpower, I'd be able to turn into a ghost at will and haunt people's dreams forever). This ex-pretending-to-be-my-friend person posted lots of stuff about badness being bad in response to me, and I just kept right at it, posting darker and scarier stuff, posting further and further affirmations that I had not a drop of good intention left inside me and I planned to reek total havoc on society.

I didn't write anything nice during this time. I was going through a transformation. I was still only a few months away from the breakup so I was in a crisis, and my crisis was just as valid as anyone else's. When I'm feeling this way, I'm not gonna like stuff I don't actually like out of politeness and I'm not gonna say nice things that I don't mean because all I really wanted to do that week was beat the crap out of people I hated, and shut out anyone who would try to pull me away from that pressure me to focus on positive things. Anything nice I would have said during this time would have been insincere and out of pure obligation, and that ain't a game I'm gonna play.

I went to this event where I met this guy who was everything I wanted to be. Everything. I mean, it really felt like a dream come true the moment I met him. He took 110 mph joyrides on the highway. He managed 2-hour drives in a half hour. Remember all that bragging I did about how fast I drove to shorten my commute? That amounted to nothing. This guy knew how it was done. He also liked to pick locks and break into buildings just for the fun of it. He and his friends would go into these abandoned buildings and hang out on the roof and this guy had a friend in the police so he'd just call in a favor so they wouldn't get in trouble. He was the definition of untamable. I told him how much I desperately wanted to be like him and go on these kinds of thrill adventures. I mean seriously, picking locks? Breaking into buildings? Driving 110 mph? It was everything I had been screaming that I desperately wanted to do. He was a dream come true. We were gonna connect again. I was gonna go on his next adventure. I was gonna have a chance to do break ins and joyrides and all the illegal stuff I wanted to do. 

But I didn't. I never got to that point. I stopped heading down that path and lost contact with him, and I doubt I'll ever run into that guy or get an opportunity like that again. Opportunities like that don't come up very often. Not in my social circles anyway. I wonder if I'll ever meet someone like that again in my entire life.

I had an awesome profile pic. It was me wearing a black t-shirt with rolled up sleeves, showing off my arm muscles and looking angry. It was basically a pic that would make people think I was gonna beat them up. I have strong arm muscles now from lifting weights, I worked hard for them, and I didn't do all that work to not be able to show them off. 

But no one even saw that picture. No one saw the picture that I actually came home on my lunch break to take, that I wanted to leave up for a long time to freak everyone out and let them know who they were dealing with.

All of this went nowhere because it all came crashing down. I stopped everything. I went back to being Nikki and didn't demand that people call me Amelia until December. December! That's more than four months of going by a name I didn't want to use! I basically halted my entire transition because it was making other people worry about me and feel bad. That was the worst decision I ever made.

After that, I felt like I was trapped in a cage like a fucking animal. I couldn't grieve. I couldn't be angry. I couldn't write whatever the fuck I wanted on my own blog and my own FB page. I was trapped in a fucking cage and everyone thought I was doing it out of kindness but I wasn't. I was doing out of fear because I'm a fucking chicken and I curl up into a little ball when people tell me that I'm upsetting them and I ended up putting everyone else's needs ahead of my own. I didn't get to write about my feelings anymore. I didn't really start writing everything I wanted again until December, when I hit another major conflict, and which, AGAIN, I get people expecting me to drop my own crisis for them.

If you think I was actually saying what I wanted in those months, that's because you're only reading your newsfeed but you're not inside my brain seeing all the stuff I wanted to post and didn't.

I *liked* things I didn't really feel like liking. I wrote nice comments that I didn't mean because I just wasn't in a sincerely nice mood during those months. I was just too chicken to NOT like stuff and write nice comments when I didn't want to. It was horrible. It makes me sick just to think about it.

This August 6th, I need to do something MAJOR to show everyone that I'm never ever ever gonna drop my own crisis again to make other people feel better, no matter how bad I'm making them feel. This August 6th, I don't know exactly what I'm gonna do, but it's gotta be even wilder, even freakier, even more likely to make everyone upset and worry about me than what I was doing in 2014. I'm not going to be satisfied until I do something like that and prove to everyone that I'll do whatever the fuck I want and no one will mess with me ever again.

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