Help - Search - Members - Calendar
Full Version: BustSecret: Ordinary Confessions from Extraordinary Busties
The BUST Lounge > Forums > As the World Turns
Pages: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118
i love starbucks. there, i said it. the over-priced lattes. the over-priced iced tea. the teddy bears. the baked goods. the atmosphere. all of it. sure, i love the coffee house in my favourite bookstore better, but when i need to have girly-talk within walking distance of my house, starbucks wins.

i think i'm just not the girl i'd have to be for what i want to work out well
i love starbucks too.

well, i *like* it, anyway.

it's the sofas.

there are times when i think i really, really want kids, and i've often assumed that i would have them some day. but i can't see how in my life they could ever fit in - i'll never have enough time or enough money if i pursue the goals i want more than anything, and finding a partner is not a priority. also children scare me, and i am afraid i would be a terrible, manipulative, demanding, pushy mother.
I worry that if I had a child and it was a boy, I'd resent him for not being a girl.
I will loudly and proudly admit to being a Starbucks whore! In fact, I have quite the addiction to Starbucks ... lattes and frappacinos (the latter, now the warm weather is coming in) and even when I'm poor I still manage to scramble up enough change or forego something else for my Starbucks fix.

I'm struggling with whether I want children too. Having children was always in my lifeplan and sometimes I have such overwhelming maternal feelings and love the idea of (far in the future) being pregnant and buying baby clothes but I'm not sure if that's as far as it goes! I worry that I'm too selfish to be a mother. I am selfless when it comes to the boy and he doesn't want children and I could be happy with it being just us, I would love it to be just us, but I'm anxious that in years to come I'll resent him for my suddenly ambivalent feelings towards motherhood.
If the option were available to me, I would not hesitate to determine the sex of my child to be female.

This in spite of the fact that I do not believe in biological determinism.

Probably another reason why I should not have a child.
Ooh, I find inexperienced boys, when they're about 20 or so (I'm a bit older than that so this counts as an embarrassing secret). I half-seduced one once. He was in a long-distance thing (bad me) and they hadn't had sex yet. I just teased him a little and got the biggest thrill. Mmm.

*cough* Back to topic...

I have a seriously short fuse. Just this morning I turned and swept out of a shop because the queues were too long and I just wanted to buy a sandwich. Slow pedestrians also annoy the crap outta me, as do slow traffic lights.

If my mister or friends do things that really anger me, I deal with it slowly and rationally (usually). But the little stuff kills me daily. I need to chill.
I have never been in a Starbucks and don't know what latte's and frappacino's are.

((((voodoo))) sweetie I know just how you feel.
but, who, mother's, don't feel that way sometimes?
doesn't seem all that different from married couples wondering how their lives would be different if they married X insteady of Y.
maybe you just need to reclaim some personal individual space for yourself that is so easily lost when it gets sucked up into the family dynamic. gentle with yourself ey?

I am secretly stoopidly proud of the fact that my friends all think my kid is cool and unbratty like the majority of other kids in the world.
they all tell me how articulate and laid back she is, and never have a problem w/ her hanging out.
- they don't know how much this means bc she & I are going through a Really rough time as she enters her teens and this helps me regain perspective on who she is away (& also partly due to) from me.

I have a freakish aversion to ankle-biters (ie- toddler children)and won't persue friendships w/ anyone if or once I discover they have them, to the point of call screening, avoidance, etc.

I still sometimes waver about not having another child, even tho my girl is 12 now and I am 35 and I went thru hell to get my iud, and oh yah, I honestly think sometimes I SUCK as a mother. (not today) my mr Really wants more, and I feel so guilty saying "NO!".. and then when I think about never holding a small cuddly sweet smelling baby again, never nursing it to sleep watching her sleepy eyes get droopier and droopier,,makes me kind of sad. but then I wake up again & remember all the things I first wrote here and remember that parenthood isn't for everyone and we're doing what to can to not warp the one we have too badly.

confession: 4 hrs of sleep and I am blathering online.
I feel guilty in Starbucks. They feel so creepily corporate and it makes me sad that I can't find a big dusty comfy coffeeshop that is genuine. Their coffee sucks (do they burn it on purpose?) but I really really like their mocha lattes, etc. Damn them!! *shakes fist*

I hate the gentrification and encroachment on the local color and culture that is happening in and around my neighborhood, but I benefit from it, so I'm a big old hypocrite.
i ate candy corn out of the trash yesterday, george costanza-style.
Weight Watchers doesn't allow you to join if you've ever had an eating disorder. So I didn't tell them about mine and joined anyway, and am quite smug that it didn't cause me any problems.

Speaking of food, I took 2 deviled eggs at the office potluck yesterday, even though there weren't enough for everyone to have even one.

Better confessions to come.
I cry when I see trees being cut down

I'm paralyzed by anxiety much of the time, so I miss out on the beautiful days like today, because I'm too scared to leave my apartment. And then I feel lame.

I'm afraid I'm not really an artist.

I haven't created anything since April and feel sluggish for it.

I am so terrified that nothing I do on this planet really matters to anyone else. However much I crave anonymity, I miss being known for something as I was in high school and college. But I'm not scared of being in the real world. It's weird.

I wish I wasn't so homesick for my mom and my dog. I miss my puppy desperately and it feels so pathetic. I'm almost 24 years old and sometimes I cry because I miss my stupid dog.

I think I'm wasting my life. But then, what can I do? I feel like I grew up into such an unfair period in history, as class divides just keep schisming and the excess of some is celebrated and envied while there are people in America who are starving to death. But no one cares as long as they have People magazine.

I reiterate, I really hate America and I can't wait to get out of here, somehow.

*waves at the NSA person scanning this site*
I was a klepto for about a year. It all started when a friend convinced me to steal some earrings and makeup from the mall. After that I couldn't stop. It was such a rush. I stole mostly small things but over the course of a year it added up to over $1000. Whenever I was in a store I felt the overwhelming urge to steal. I finally got caught but I took off running and emptied my pockets and got out of the store before I got arrersted.

I still stole after that though.
I haven't stolen anything in like 4 years though so I'm proud of myself, I think I'm finally over it.

All I want to do is have a child. I feel like that is my purpose in life. I somehow doubt that I am able to have children though.

Sometimes I really miss all the drug and alcohol binges of the past.

I am scared so much of dying of some disease related to my smoking but it's not enough motivation to quit.

I erased 2 or 3 secrets that I had written out on here because I'm still too scared to confront them.

lucizoe - when you find a way out (of the country)..... call me, please
Come to Canada its mostly fun here.

I feel depressed driving down highways and there is no one else driving, and I don't see anyone for kilometres. It makes me feel down that all the land has been ploughed down for a road.

Same thing with housing developments. All that green space for yuppies homes.

I hate the wealthy, yet I want to succeed and get a BMW. I hate capitalism and what it does, but I still spend spend spend, and realize that things may be better in the privte sector for work.

I would love to be a stripper.

Beansalad! You have intrigued me! I want to hear about your list of expensive foods (liquors etc?) and how you look at them all lined up.

When I first got a job in which I was making even reasonable money, I would do that with cosmetics I bought. Beautiful, expensive, colorful, sensual things; cosmetics are.

I hate people who assume I'm not intelligent unless I'm obviously traditionally "prep" and I bother them as much as possible. I absolutely snow them under in any debate and wipe the floor with them in any written discussions and really enjoy doing so.

I also hate people who are so so sensitive about their *own* feelings (I'm depressed, I feel vulnerable, I'm an artist, I feel ugly, I was a freak growing up) and yet have little or no sensitivity to other adults feelings now that we are all adults and have to live together.

We're not siblings. We're also not children. Women are supposed to be endlessly patient and even actively ADORE people who haven't gotten over their childhoods. I don't.

I also hate it when a woman with a face like a snapping turtle and a body to match puts on blonde hair and brags about her education or family money, and people are supposed to think she's really attractive and prestigious, or they're supposed to be envious, and meanwhile, it would be SO UNFEMINIST and UNCOOL to say, but wait, you're fat and ugly, because she is so obviously trying so desperately hard to live in denial of those facts. And if she were PLEASANT, it would be okay, but, no, she has to try to get a monopoly on all social relationships.

I also hate people obviously lying about money and saying they have less or have more than they do.

I hate it when a person puts on a big phony image that their fragile emotional health demands you "recognize." I can see the real self, yet if I talk to the real self, the person twitches and grimaces with annoyance, and I'm not good at flattering the "fake" self, I'm obvious and fake about it, and I'm humoring them and pitying them and they can tell.

I hate it when people think they are being really sly and sneaky and subtle about hurting others, and trying to make others uncomfortable. Everyone know what's going on, honey, they just don't want to lower themselves to be a neurotic like you. It's, um, kind of sad and makes people turn away from being your friend -- they stay at the acquaintance level only.

I've let women know I won't be their friends if they try to ridicule or exploit me, I don't care how much money and influence they try to say they have, I tell them I can see they don't have any and that they are mentally unbalanced. This is always true, and they always deny it strenuously.

I'm smart, well-read, well-traveled and cultured. I have warmth and honesty and sanity and a sense of humor. I have a pretty face and a great body. Yeah, I admit it.

Guys have to seduce me because if they act cold and like it's all a game, I smile sweetly and keep walking. I won't ask them who they are and ask them if they remember me and ask them what they want. Nope. Why do they keep turning up time after time if they don't know? Hah.

I like Frank Lloyd Wright and Louis Sullivan and Brancusi and Philip K. Dick and Julia Cameron and Clarissa Pinkola Estes and Carlos Castaneda and Florinda Donner-Grau and Taisha Abelar. I feel like I can talk to them sometimes. I went to pre-law school and art school, I learned how to run machines and run computers and lift weights. I know the names of the plants in the woods. I can sing, play the piano and shoot pool. I can dance. I know more about music than just about anyone. Yes.

I hate narcissists and I'm not fooled by them or ruled by them.

I'm a bad woman, such a bad, bad woman, we are all supposed to love each other for being messed up and just naturally want to drag each other down. "You're jealous and envious and neurotic and make hateful catty remarks and go home and eat a whole cake! I LOVE you!"


I feel like Faith on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
sybarite, I'm the opposite way with boys. This really sweet boy met me for coffee but I was so turned off by the fact that he's a virgin I wouldn't go out with him. Most of my guy friends are virgins and I have to be careful not to mention this to them because I think it would really hurt their ego's. Most of my female friends, however, would love to de-virginize a guy. I like it when boys have some experience, so we're more equal. And I often like to be submissive and have someone telling me what to do in the bedroom.

Lucizoe, I'm saving up for my own apartment right now and I already know that the hardest part about moving out is going to be leaving my cat behind. I would take her if I could but she's already 13, and is an outdoor cat that loves this house. She sleeps on my tummy every single night and is only nice to me. I love her so much and I know that not having her in my bed and following me around all day is going to break my heart.
I've started to wonder if my experience in feminist social service work has made me tolerate and forgive the women in my life for a lot more things than I ought to be tolerating and forgiving them for.
I think I am an absolutely fantastic fuck.

I want to try absinthe

I also used to shoplift tons.

I can feel the life when I walk through a park or other greenspace, it is a a stark difference from summer and winter. I can feel the energy running through my body and I feel complete wen I am completely surrounded by nature.

I wonder how in the world women can have more than two children. And when I see couples with three plus, I wonder what in the fuck these people were thinking not using birth control!

I looked up someone I care about deeply on our system at work...and I cannot type the rest of it, because I don't want to admit what I found out.
Did someone not request that this thread not be used as an "I hate people who..." thread? (Or am I confusing that with the new Bush thread?)

Anyway, in the spirit of actual bonafide confessions:

culturehandy, I have tried absinthe and I held my head and shot glass over basin in case I had to spew (I didn't!)

I'm a bitch and I have very little tolerance at life's little things and people who annoy me.

I promised myself I would not get sucked into this year's Big Brother but, after my friend text me a running commentary of everyone entering the house, I now have it on in the background. This is a confession and a sin, I should maybe cross-post in the Sin Bin. I MUST not watch this mindless non-entertainment!
bunnyb, freckle had made a confession and was worried she had crossed a line that wasn't supposed to be crossed in this thread, and i said that i figured that lines being crossed would be an 'i hate (insert something already confessed)' in a malicious way. like, if right now i went 'i hate people who have tried absinthe' would be crossing a line (i don't really hate people who have tried absinthe. just my ridiculous example). i know we can't for sure know if something was posted with malicious intent, but i also think that we shouldn't say we can't have 'i hate...' confessions. some people have confessions of that nature to make, and i don't think we should limit what can be said here because a confession could be misinterpreted. though if someone notices a pattern of confessions in one person that seems to be aimed at previous confessions, that should probably be addressed (much like alligator and his mayonnaise)

confession time:

i don't like the girls who spend time with my best friend when i'm not around. not true, i like them, but i like them only in my presence. i like them when they see me with my head on his chest and his hand on my hip, when they see our hushed conversations our faces inches from each other. i like them when they get the impression that i have something with him that they never get to have.

i use my boobs to get stuff

i unbutton an extra button on my shirt at work when i'm desperate for tips. which makes me feel dirty, because i hate that i work for tips to begin with, let alone that i do stuff specifically to increase the amount of change left on the table or at the till.

i've been wearing red eyeshadow since grade school. i wanted doc martens four years ago. most of the music i listen to, books i read, and movies i've seen i knew about months and years before they became 'popular', and i hate that to keep being myself i have to look like a mallgirl poseur
Culturehandy - One shot of absinthe has changed the whole course of my night out in the past. Mostly for the better.

Sorry that the following is a little self-indulgent for this thread... this isn't something I can talk about with any of my friends because I feel like I'm on a train that I can't stop, and I just have to deal with everything that happens. My friends would try to help.

I am terrified. I think I might be falling for someone. I can't even say the 'l' word. I feel so vulnerable. I feel so exposed. I'm a total player and I usually have no problem separating sex from emotional attachment, but with her, it's different. Last night she got completely inside my head and I opened up to her in a way that I never do for anyone. I know that she has feelings for me, and I know that we have an incredible chemistry, and awesome sex, but I also know that she chews girls up, and spits them out. I understand why she does this because it's for the same reasons that I do it. She's incredibly similar to me. She has referred to us as two sides of the same coin. I am so determined not to weaken and allow her to break me. I know that she's incapable of being faithful to anyone. But all my resolve disappears when I'm with her. I don't know what to do, what to think, what to feel. She's intoxicating.
beansalad, there is a man who I want to desire me the way you desire this woman. He is not the man I live with and have been with for six-and-a-half years.

On that note,

There is a man whom I so badly desire, who I cannot stop thinking about. A man who I know who gets me, who something works with. I don't want to say it is destiny, but I think he is the man for me. I think it is destiny. It eats me up inside, and I feel like I am losing a peice of myself every time I speak to him. I have inadvertently given a part of myself to him. I want to have sex with him, but I am afriad of what will happen. We will never be together. And for this I feel as though a part of me is dying.

on a wackier note, sometimes I wish I was like fictional characters. Gets me away from reality.

I also love how full of myself I am, and I am also a complete bitch.
I got really drunk at the German beer garden at Expo '86 in Vancouver, with my brother and my best friend, when I was still only seventeen. They took me to the McDonald's on Granville Street to try to sober me up. I ate a cheeseburger. Then when we went outside, I threw up on a tree, six feet away from two cops making a bust. My brother lept out into the middle of Granville to hail a cab. I threw up all over the taxi - inside and out. My brother gave the driver a huge, huge tip to pay for the cleaning, and his trouble. Then he got the same cab driver about a week later. The driver was not very happy to see him.

When I was nineteen, I had been staying in Calgary for about four months, and I was going to come back to BC for a year. It being Calgary, a three-night going away party ensued. The first night my friends persuaded me to consume the bulk of a 26 oz. tequila, which I drank straight from the bottle and followed with beer chasers. Around 2 in the morning, when I was dancing, I couldn't feel that I had legs anymore. I spent the rest of the night in my bed, chewing on pink Pepto Bismal tablets and puking into a bucket. In the morning, a male friend, who had slept on the couch, threw open my door and said, "Get up, go downtown, go shopping, you'll feel better." I took the bus and train, and ended up in the downtown Hudson Bay Company. I was feeling soooo sick (still chewing Pepto tabs), that by the time I got in the doors, I knew I was going to throw up again. I knew the bathroom was on the second floor. I raced up the escalator, and started running towards the bathroom. But, sadly, I didn't make it. I threw up pink Pepto Bismal barf ALL over the floor, right in front of the menswear department cash desk. With many people looking on in horror. I even skidded a little in it, trying to get to the bathroom. I hid in a stall, puking and resting, for a half an hour. When women asked me if I was okay, I told them I was pregnant. I had to buy a new shirt to wear for the rest of the day. I still got drunk again that night - although my friends (one of whom had actually BOUGHT me the 26er and wrapped it in masses of blue curly ribbon) forbade me to even touch the tequila.

The above-mentioned incident is well-known to my friends and my family as The Tequila Incident. I drank insane quantities of tequila two more times in my life before I finally learned my lesson.

I have never, ever, EVER, come the morning after, forgotten one single, stupid, drunken thing I did the night before. I used to envy alcoholics for their blackouts.
I fear that I've internalized the "women can't do this work as well as men can" myth and I feel woefully inadequate in my job. Even though I've been doing this work for ten years now, I sometimes feel intimidated by a guy with the same years of experience doing it because I keep thinking he must have a more varied experience, or just be better at it than I am. I sometimes get confused when I look at wiring diagrams.
I had a shot of absinthe when I was 15. I spent 1 1/2 hours over the toilet bowl.
I'm absolutely frightened of being in a functional loving relationship. I'm convinced i'll fuck it up, so avoid them altogether. As a result, I've turned into a dating hermit.

I feel strange being deeply affected by tragic world events. Two times I've come close to a mental breakdown were the Madrid bombings and the Beslan school siege.

I emailed my ex yesterday because I had to scream about a movie they're making about Beslan. And I knew he'd react to it. And not tell me I'm overreacting.

I'm a self control freak. My own emotional vulnerability scares me.

This thread is a great idea, by the way.
I take my job for granted. I know many people who would kill for the opportunity that I have. But I hate it. Not because of the job itslef, but because of the people here who limit me. I could quit and find something else. But I don't because it would make my life harder. I wouldnt make as much money. I wouldn't have the flexibility with my schedule. And in the end, I will end up right back here anyway, after the will is read. That's it. I'm a sell-out!

"I'm a bitch and I have very little tolerance at life's little things and people who annoy me."

It's like, bunnyb, how is that NOT an "I hate people who.."" statement? How many confessions here involve hostility towards others - a lot. Why don't you stop judging and attacking everything I do in every thread? If you want me to be nice and accept you, could you do the same for me? I'm not "sneak attacking" anyone on Bust or judging previous confession posts.

I was confessing stuff that I don't usually speak about or act on in real life, those uncomfortable encounters that can spoil the fun of good things. This IS the place for it.

If I say things I usually wouldn't say, as in "I'm so awesome and so-and-so stinks" thats, uh, not what I do in my real life. It's kind of funny to do it here. It is a confession. Forbidden. Boo, hiss on any woman who thinks well of herself or stands up to people.

In real life, for the most part, I weed out negative people, I choose to be around people I like and feel respectful towards and who respect me. And that usually includes my co-workers and neighbors. I don't go out of my way to dislike people -- I like and accept most people.

I don't dislike or criticize people for their looks or their weight or if they have any particular illnesses in their past or present -- I dislike them when they try to compensate themselves for those things by constantly criticizing, judging, and gossiping about others -- under the excuse of, "but I feel so BAD" about such and such.

I would never be mean enough to judge someone about weight, looks, that episode of depression years ago, who they sleep with, what gender, etc., and yet, it's supposed to be perfectly acceptable for them to judge me about other stuff that is pretty much born with you and hard to change TOO -- like, how much money your parents have? What your parents are like? what school you went to? What you have done since? What is your car like? Why do you or don't you own such and such?

The people I mentioned were people I felt bad about in real life and kind of just hid and slunk away from -- I hate that weird "counter-stigma" behavior from people -- example, if you accept gay people, you should put up with some mean queen trashing straight people and making fun of women. Um, no, you shouldn't. Acceptance and tolerance should be a two-way street. To just be honest and kind and work out conflicts with some people is difficult because they will get into denial and counterattacks and guilt trips and try to ruin the whole relationship if you DARE say you want to stand up straight and be positive

We all bitch about relationships among family and friends and work and school that have that negative dynamic.

whammy, chill out. bunny thought that we had made a clear no 'i hate people who (insert thing here)' confession rule, and i clarified and said i think we were trying to stay away from malicious confessions that were really passive-aggressive attacks on other busties.

i don't think you need to come back attacking bunnyb for asking a valid question about if there were guidelines we had decided upon for confessions, and i said i don't think we have any other than 'be nice'. your post right here? not nice. i honestly don't care if you weed our negative people in real life, or don't criticize people for their looks.

this thread should remain a safe haven where we can come and confess and not be burdened by sorting through people defending their confessions. if you have anything else to say, please take it to PM
Deleted post because it was a bit of a passive-aggressive attack on other busties
I have a fear of, though I don't know if there's a phobia name for it, of men who wear flip flop sandals/thongs in public.
going to the shower, sure. the beach? OK!
but in regular street walking mainstreet usa? uh, no.
creeps me out something fierce and I feel freakishly strongly that said men Cannot be trusted.

I am totally ok for women to wear them (except maybe when they go to the White House <eg>) whenever.

I keep going on the Weight Watchers boards and starting fights with people.
(hee-freckle...someone in my neighborhood plastered some handmade stickers all over a phone booth which read: "No More Men In Flip-Flops And Long Pants, PLEASE!" I giggled).
I used to be so freaked out by's related to a recurrant dream I had as a kid, I'll spare you the gory details. I wore socks and/or shoes all the time and hated to see people's feet. Even more than hated...I would feel such revulsion and took it personally, like, this person wearing sandles is trying to ruin my life! I thought people who wore shoes that showed their feet (toes, especially) had a problem in that they weren't covering something that should clearly be covered.

I was also embarrased of my own feet and felt really self-conscious about them.

It took me until I was about 30 to work through all of this. I now think feet are fine and even dated a guy with a foot fetish! The lingering weirdness is that I can't stand anything between my toes. Even writing that gives me a shudder.
as a hypocrite, i feel superior to people who don't know they're hypocrites. because at least i can admit it.

i also feel superior to people who don't realize they have superiority complexes. because i'm quite humble and ashamed about mine.
i want to call child protective services on my entire street.
oh shit, i love a man in flip flops. or a skirt. it just makes me think about how summer it is. i think it's sexah. colour me the odd girl out eh? go figger.

hmm. I guess that rule was lost in the archives, because I read all the archives that there are to read. And bunnyb will often come into threads to criticize what I'm posting -- direct aggressive attacks are no better than passive aggressive one. If I have a disagreement with someone I just say it straight up, no passive aggressive and no pm ing, so, wtf? Enough already. I'm not allowed to say what i think according to bunny b? Not the boss of me, girl.

But, I'm sure she's cool because, bunny gal, anyone who knows as much about books and movies and Buffy as you do has got to be pretty slammin'

It's just that a lot of this stuff is about being crappy to people, so that was my share.

But, anyway, here's confession I really want to do. Much guts required.

My father was schizophrenic and had active episodes of extreme bizarreness. The rest of the time he was a normal person who was very nice, smart, and capable. Every five years or so he'd go off for a week and we would have to go collect him somewhere around town. We would have to worry that he would hurt someone or someone would hurt him or that he would hurt himself. It was also very embarrassing. People would just STARE.

It was also frightening. He might forget to pick me up somewhere or forget how to get home or I would have to control the behavior of someone larger than me and do it very carefully so that he wouldn't be offended.

And it was a stigma and still is. People didn't want to come into our yard, my sister and I could more or less forget about getting married in our home town -- "It's passed genetically" don't you know -- which has never been proven.

He would lose his job and have to get another with the stigma over his head, so the money went up and down drastically. My mother considered herself to be too good to work and also developed a lot of stress based physical symptoms due to the isolation and the fear. But her refusal to get a job when he might easily become unable to work at any time was another sort of insanity. I remember her doing all the housework and gardening and cooking and then just sitting in the livingroom watching TV, with the room full of blue cigarette smoke.

We moved to a new town where people were cooler about it and I went to college, but in my sophomore year my mother started giving me a heavy guilt trip about taking the money for school. She told me that he wasn't going to be able to work and needed the money.

When I dropped out and worked, she immediately divorced him and took all his assets, so, really, she had just wanted it for herself. Being feminist and loving my parents and all, I supported her having her own life.

When I wanted to go back to school and go to an expensive art school this time, he seemed like he was okay and the drugs were working. He gave his blessing when I asked him, and said I could have the money to do it.

Mom on the other hand claimed that he was so short of money because of my school that he was going to go up to the French King bridge and jump off it. I had felt that it was okay to take the money because he was soon approaching the time he would have to go on SSI and he knew that as well, it had been a progressive thing and he was getting to that age, and had already gone from private hospitals to public ones. And you have to get rid of your assets, so they may as well go to me if that's what he wanted to do with it. I did ask, and all.

When my mom told me he was suicidal I was upset but I didn't know whether to believe her or not. She often would criticize me in the most constant and debilitating way, refuse to support anything I did the whole time I grew up, and was generally all about her poor self and how hard her poor life was and how all those horrible people owed her so much more. So I called up the officers of the irrevocable trust we had gotten when the relatives took our family business -- otherwise dad might have squandered all the money ...

and I asked them if he really was ill and short of money. They said he was, so I transitioned to student aid and jobs in the middle of a semester.

Now, the question is, the doubt that still lingers in my mind is, that I sometimes feel that I did the wrong thing for quitting. That I should have carried on because my parents are responsible for their lives and my life has been immeasurably difficult without their support.

Then I feel, I would have done the wrong thing by not making sure i got off their dime, because I should love them and take care of myself if they can't do it. Yes! That's right. That's the Walton ending. I got my own skills and eventually got my own car and own degree and ....

but wait. That's not right. Because, after doing the right thing and not getting a degree in my early twenties like most people, they still totally went down the shitter. They got more and more sick and desperate and poor, and, as I suspected, they went through all the money and had to go on public assistance ANYWAY, just without my getting my degree first. Just a few years LATER instead. And if I'd GOTTEN IT, I would have the money to HELP them, but, since I took a series of semi-skilled jobs while I took skill training at night, since it took so many YEARS to get decent pay, I couldn't help them at all and could barely support MYSELF.

What's worse than that is I spent the whole time being perfectly normal and functional, teachers, preachers, doctors, neighbors, all talked about how bright and pretty and happy and smart and funny and tough I was -- thanks, cause I was getting none of that at home, none at all -- and I would have fought someone four times my size if they ever tried to hurt my family or said one bad thing about them, and I took the effin greyhound all the way out to the halfway house at christmas just to give my dad a nice christmas when even my mom and sister wouldn't stand by him and I didn't have the car yet,

and... FUCK if he didn't turn against me!!

He started getting violent and sexual and controlling and betraying and I absolutely had to cut him out of my life. I actually wrote to my bank and utilities and landlord and told them not to tell him my phone number, I had to stigmatize myself with them because otherwise he would call my housemates and work mates and say weird things and mess with my life.

And then I think, oh, should I feel guilty, shouldn't I have the strenghth and compassion to still see him? It's wrong to still see him. It's wrong not to ever see him again.

Nothing will be right with him, do you understand? It is a death sentence, I could say he died thirty years ago and I wouldn't be telling a lie. Except I think he's still walking around out there somewhere. I used to have nightmares about seeing him in a parking lot near my house with a gun.

So, I think -- where do I talk about this? There is nowhere. There are no support groups in the world class mental hospitals and research institutions in Boston. National Alliance for the Mentally Ill has groups, but, guess what? They are for families and mentally ill people to be TOGETHER discussing how to CARE FOR the mentally ill person in your home.

There is nowhere I can go to BITCH. There is nowhere I can go to say, this was scary, this was horrible, but he was a good person and I am a good person. I CANNOT SAY I don't want to deal with this, I shouldn't have to worry and be embarrassed and I shouldn't have to not say this and not do that and be quiet and don't be emotionally exprssive because the mentally ill person comes first. Ican't say, hey, you know that guy that comes on to the bus or subway and if he sits next to you you get up and move? well I couldn't MOVE, I was STUCK next to him, and I was lower than low, I was BENEATH him because I had no right of refusal.


And nothing has changed. They don't do a damn thing for the families, for the children. NO ho ho thing. And, even though only one out of FIVE or even fewer children of mentally ill people become mentally ill themselves, if anyone finds out, then if I get mad or I'm tired or I flake out on something or they decide theyr're sick of me, then they say, Oh, you know WHAT? Her FAther's a nut and she is too!!

And ----- my boyfriend and I have literally dealt with people that wonder why, if we are intelligent and physically strong and healthy and live in the city and all we are still making it financially -- in other words, how come we're belatedly paying for school and belatedly getting a car and still rent instead of owning and I am only climbng the job ladder now and I have lost years here and years there. People have actually said, oh, do you have HISTORY? If we're not yuppies, well, we must be drug addicts, drunks, nuts or criminals.

This is what passes for the liberal and kindly upper classes -- if you're poor, you must have a defect in some way.

Someone ELSES defect is still harming my life.. to move out from under the shadow is horribly difficult and slow.

Honest to god, I was going into a total anxiety attack about getting a one bedroom freaking apartment, because I had to max out a credit card to be able to eat, because the republican governor delayed my state student loan three effin months.

So the next time you dribble out something like, "I'm such a GRAND BAD OLD CRAZY BITCH who fucks people around me, isn't that great?"

Will you actually have some tolerance and just a *glimmer* of understanding when I don't think it's GREAT at all??

If you can speak about your experience with illness aggressively because it's here in the anonymous BUST computer chat room, well, I certainly claim the same privilege.


Yes indeed.


I have never, ever, EVER, come the morning after, forgotten one single, stupid, drunken thing I did the night before. I used to envy alcoholics for their blackouts

doodle, i thought i was the only one.

wow, whammy. ((hugs))
wham whammy. i have a crazy father and younger brother too so, i hear you girl. for years my bro has been locked up over and over again since he lost his mind at the ripe old age of 17, poor kid. i don't even have the energy to talk about it, i distance myself.
but my life has had it's effect on me as well. i too am in my 30's and just starting to climb the ladder job wise, maxed out credit cards, a history of bad relationship choices, a big student loan for programs i couldn't manage to finish, and a five year old (i like that part though, even though we're on our own thousands of miles away from family and with no support).

i want to say to everyone here though that i don't really care if you call yourselves crazy. it's like me calling things "retarded", i try to remember not to 'cause i imagine that it might be offensive to someone who hears it and i think it makes me sound like an ignoramous. but sometimes it slips out, like the f word (or the c word. sshhh.) and i'm sure no one here means to be offensive any more than i do so i'm just not taking it personally.

and i don't mind if confessions are about not liking someone else either. girls, can someone tell me what the big deal is about that? i don't get all the rules lately.

i confess, i like the friction of a totally open dialogue. bring it on...

tyger, thanks.

whammybar, just to clear one thing up: I do NOT "often come into threads to criticize what [you're] posting"; if it has felt that way then I apologise but I honestly think that it sounds rather paranoid. And yes, I am a pretty slammin gal and know more about books, movies and buffy than posted :-).

Moving on ...

I have coursework overdue and it feels like a tombstone around my neck.

I am annoying the boy by Busting and not going for shower; I should go do latter now as we are going for lunch where, I confess, I am going to pig out and shop to make myself feel better.

i'm 25 years old, and totally broke, with no resources and no long term partner. and all i want to do is have a kid. like now.

to the extent that next time i sleep with a guy, i will probably deliberately have unprotected sex so as to get pregnant. and then call it an 'accident'. and pressure the guy not to be in my kid's life.

even though i have no job security, spotty health insurance, don't make enough money to insure that i'll be able to afford childcare or even food and diapers, no support system, would PLAN on being a single parent, etc. etc. but i want a kid. soon. now.
the boy i like seems fairly 'go with the flow' when it comes to us. i initiate the stuff, not him, but he doesn't try and stop me or anything. and i think i want to take advantage of that.

i can't picture myself old. or married. or in a career. i can barely picture myself beyond next week
just my 2 cents on the "rules" thing....
when I read the post by *tyger* about maybe not posting an "I don't like people who (making direct reference to a previous BUSTIES post)I took that to mean that it was maybe not cool to post something in a way that could possibly just be construed as being mean and bitchy and directed toward the person who made the original post. For example, *bunnyb* (I'm not pickin on ya hunny)came into this thread this morning and said "I am annoying the boy by Busting and not going for shower; I should go do latter now as we are going for lunch where, I confess, I am going to pig out and shop to make myself feel better." Now, IF AFTER THAT POST I came in here and indirectly attacked *bunnyb* by attacking her post and saying that "I hate people who annoy there fellas by not getting off their lazy ass and getting ready for the day, instead choosing to sit on the f-ing PC all day and then admitting that when they go out that they're going to be a gluttonous pig" THEN THAT WOULD FALL UNDER THE "RULE" as referred to by *tyger*.... That would have been an obvious, if not out-right slam on *bunnyb* even though she wouldn't have been specifically mentioned and my reason for doing it would have been underhanded and mean.
I think (this is ONLY MY OPINION) that this is possibly what was meant when there was mention of a "rule".... NOT that we shouldn't come in here and say something like.... I hate women who stay at home and don't work and rely on men for everything they have.... whatever.... there are women here who don't work and do stay at home and are supported by men in their lives (I happen to be one of them) BUT making that statement right after someone comes in here and confesses something to that nature and confesses their feelings about it, can easily be seen as an attack and a rude and bitchy thing to do especially since this thread is often used as a release for some of us, a way to get things off our chest and not feel judged or be made to feel rotten for it..... I just took the "rule" to mean 'don't use this thread to attack other BUSTIES by turning their own confessions against them'
But, as I said, this is only my interpretation of the original issue..... maybe I'm totally wrong....
Oh, and *bunnyb*.... eat something for me while you're out.... I'm on a diet and trying really hard and it's just sucking!
that was exactly it, voodoo. i meant it as we shouldn't use this thread to attack other busties, either directly or passive-aggressively.

i can't stand people who don't stand up for what they believe in. and i'm one of those people a lot of the time
I want to write but I'm too scared in case I'm terrible at it.
continuing my trend of latching onto other people's confessions: i can't picture myself old. or married. or in a career. i can barely picture myself beyond next week.

oh goddess, yes. tyger, i have no long term vision of the future or myself. i am more than a little scared that i will wake up one day, be 65 - broke, alone, and really confused as to where the time went.
okey dokey, i gotcha now. that's a good policy. however, sometimes i will confess the opposite thing to the post directly before mine (see doodle's button phobia post) and it certainly isn't an attack, direct or indirect. just an illustration of how funny we peeps really are with the things that we love and don't. a different strokes kinda thang, don't no one go and take no offense now, ya hear?

i use my busy-ness to keep myself from having to deal with parts of my life that deserve the most attention.
sometimes i wish my friend would break up with her boyfriend for just a weekend so it could be like it used to be. just a one-afternoon time warp where he doesn't exist and we buy popsicles and roll down hills and immortalize how awesome our old teachers were by scratching it into the wooden playground.
My mom has always had an awed reverence anti-violence movements and non-violent resistance against tyranny and oppression, and she worked very hard to instill that in me from earliest childhood....but I still would have had a much less traumatic childhood (and young womanhood) if she'd just put me in some karate classes or something.

I am tired of hanging out with some of the friends I've made through the women's movement, because it seems like those particular friends never want to talk about anything except work and politics (which are often the same thing)....and I'm starting to get angry at them for it, too.

I know the above confession is only a manifestation of my grieving process for the job I've decided to leave within the next few years, but knowing it doesn't really make experiencing it any easier.

I called a 20-year old male neighbour "dumbass" to his face the other night. But only after he called me and my friend "dearies."
This is a "lo-fi" version of our main content. To view the full version with more information, formatting and images, please click here.
Invision Power Board © 2001-2016 Invision Power Services, Inc.