Honesty Sucks Monkey Dick

First I would like to preface this post by saying I am being forced against my will to blog. I did not want to blog. I wanted to crawl into a dark little corner and have a pity me party but oh no, bitch would not let me. Bitch had to stick her gawddamn nose all up in my bizness and is forcing me to blog because it will be all therapuetic or some such nonsensical shit as that. So yea bitch, I love you.

I don't really know if monkeys have dicks, but if they did, then honesty would blow each and every one of them because honesty is a big fat crock of SHIT. I don't know who came up with the idea of HONESTY but obviously it was someone who never has been honest in their whole life and thought hmmm how can I make money oh I know I will get people to believe my bullshit.

I was honest with my husband. I am no angel. I am not proud of the shit I did but I also don't feel the need to LIE about it either. Some of what I did was when I was manic some was when I just plain fucking stupid, but either way I did what I did. I have never been one to shy away from that. Most people misinterpret my honesty but that is ok they suck monkey dick too so I could care less what they fucking think. Monkeydickfuckers.

The reason I was so honest with my husband is because we have a LOT of mutual friends. Friends who I was certain would be more than happy to fill my husband in on my past. I thought by me telling him that it would keep us from having problems, but oh how naive was I. Because what I didn't plan on was the fuckholes LYING about my past. What I didn't plan on was my husband BELIEVING the fuckholes lies instead of me. But that is what happened and for three years now I have tried my best to make him believe me. I have been patient because he has been patient with me, but I am human. I have limits and I am at the end of my rope.

I cannot continue on being called a whore, slut, and any other word you can think of to insert here simply because two people decided making me look like a fuckass would somehow alleviate them from their participation in our relationship. By making me out as the controlling manipulative bitch, it would somehow make their cheating on their wives less important and you know what, they were fucking RIGHT. So divorce #2 is drawing near. I have already started making plans and most likely will leave right after Jigger comes back from his trip in July.

Manic vs True Self

Due to a recent argument with Jigger, this thought has planted itself inside my brain and will not budge. Therefore I am forced to vomit it all over you guys because that's just the way things are. During the two years I was psychotic/manic, I did ALOT that I don't consider to be "me". Like fucking anything with three legs. That isn't me, but now everyone considers that to be who I am. I am the slut. The whore. Promiscuous. This has become my "true self" in their eyes. According to them, this is how I truly wished to be so when I was manic that is why this side of me came out. 

It doesn't matter that I was a virgin when I married my now ex. Yes I consider myself a virgin. Just because my hymen was not intact does not mean I was not. I do not consider the forcible removal of a hymen to make someone NOT a virgin so yes I was a virgin. Then I spent almost ten years celibate after my divorce. 

TEN YEARS!!! 

Does someone who is really and truly a whore, slut, promiscous spend TEN FUCKING YEARS celibate? Why did I spent ten years celibate? Because the only reason any guy wanted to be with me was simply to fuck. After the birth of my second child, I had myself sterilized due to health reasons (I almost died during childbirth and considering I had become pregnant twice on birth control I wasn't willing to take any chances) so from that moment forward all I was to guys was a good fuck. No one would consider me "marriage material" simply because I was unable to have children. So I didn't date/fuck/look at men. I worked and did my best trying to make ends meet to take care of myself and my kids. 

Then I flew over the cuckoo's nest and suddenly I was the star of "Debbie does Dallas". I have no idea why. Actually I do know why. I remember thinking "well if all I am is a whore, then I am going to be the best gawddamn whore there is". Except I wasn't, but I tried to be. The whole time there was a very small tiny voice inside of me that said, "this isn't me", but yet no one would listen. Not even me. 

So which is the real me? The me that doesn't fuck around. The me that I feel I am inside or the manic me that spread her legs for any one that breathed heavily. I don't want to be that person. I don't want that whore to be me. But am I just lying to myself or is that really who I am?

Because honestly at the moment, I have no fucking clue.