It’s been an ongoing struggle throughout my life to be REAL, to live my authentic life (let’s face it, my friends were getting sick of coming to my 29th birthday party 5 years in a row), to be honest with myself about stuff, to work on my issues, and to be able to be open with people. I’m not good at connecting
with people because I have so many things I’m hiding from them and I’m not good at being fake and interested in what they have to say unless it’s funny. I have this weird theory (which I’ve never tested) that if I did cocaine I would be more interesting and connect with people better…because people using blow always seem really interested in what other people have to say.
In case you don’t know, monsteramis are me, they are my story, they are the crazy that I am hiding. Their stories are my ugly truths condensed down to 2 or 3 sentences for your reading enjoyment. Sometimes crocheting the monsters is the easy (albeit time consuming) part…the hard part is when I have to go into my dark side to confront the emotions I have worked so hard for so many years to suppress. (This process usually involves a lot of red wine and crying.)
I write about my dad a lot because we didn’t have a great relationship and I have a lot of unhappy memories about him. I mean, how many dads ask their daughters if they are a drug mule? Only one who I know of… He used
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to call my sister and me “monsters” and tell me they found me in a garbage can. He would always threaten to “stick his boot up [my] ass” if he thought I was misbehaving. Sometimes he would try to trade me away to another family for their well behaved child. Clearly, building up my self-esteem was not high on his list of priorities.
I don’t write about my mom as much although I have plenty I could write. I’m still dealing with my issues about her. My memories of her are more shameful than sad, and I’m not ready to open up about that stuff yet. I’ve kept so many secrets about her for so long…and she can’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. I’ve been compared to her my whole life (I look like her, I act like her, etc.) so
I fear that people will think I am what she was and I will do the things she did. (wow… I think I just came up with my therapy topic for next week)
So don’t be offended if you suggest stories to me that I could use for a monsterami…like how one time you had B.O. and smelled like onions…and I don’t use
them (although I might tell you I will because I have a problem saying “no”). monsteramis are MY crazy. I’ll be more than happy to make a custom monsterami for you with YOUR crazy.
Every time I post a new monsterami online, I am showing another little piece of me to the world. I’m finally being real.
(this is me, haven’t showered in 2 days, no makeup, and wearing a hat to hide my greasy hair)