Friday, January 18, 2013

Little baby bitchy bitch.


I'm never had much luck as a participant in group or partner activities of any kind. That might include sleeping next to someone else? I just woke up at 4am, which was an hour and a half ago. Of course now I can't get back to bed due to your stupid laptop that I bought you with the money that I sold my soul to make. I tried to waste time on my phone scouring the internet but phone reception is terrible in my apartment and the wireless connection that it's linked into is down. My ISP is horrible. I wish I could move out of town sometimes just so I could have a more reliable connection to the fucking internet. That's sad.

I take out my aggression on you because right now, you represent to me everything I hate about myself. Stagnant and boring. You're like a old broken down machine, like me. I feel like you ridicule me for breaking down. I just can't do anything anymore so I can't change your opinion of me. I can't sleep when I'm supposed to or get things done around the apartment. The apartment is in shambles. Always so messy. Is it true that a person can break down permanently? I guess I should have seen it coming after my stroke. I really hate blaming things on that god damned stroke but I just don't seem as capable now. No doctor really cares. There are no medicines that can patch me up any longer. I am broken.

Oh I have my health, though. Isn't that wonderful? I'm eternally scarred and scared of dying at any second but at least I'm physically healthy. I have a sickness that you can not see. Nothing is satisfying. I'm a split between a perfectionist and a slacker. I'd rather do nothing at all if it can't be perfect and I've finally accepted that nothing can be perfect. Everything seems like too big of a task to even just imagine that I might be able to complete. Do you know how that feels at all? It's impossible. It makes me need to drop out of life completely. One more step forward and I would have exploded all over everything and you would have had to clean me up. I wonder sometimes if that's normal? If being that stressed out about tiny things like I was is just how the world operates? Maybe I'm just a big fucking baby slacker that needs her ass wiped for her after she shits. I want so much to just “snap out of it” but I simply can't find my way out of this mess.

So I eat too much and cry too often. Maybe my brain has just shut down for the rest of my life and I can just go on disability. However that just brings me back to my issue with having an invisible illness. I feel like such a failure. Everything seemed to be going so well? No, it was never okay. I was always on the verge of exploding out all over my “work” and falling apart from the inside out. No one can help me and no one even wants to. Well, they might desire to help or want to see me better but they don't have the time. It feels like the only way to survive sometimes is to walk away from absolutely everything and start over fresh. Maybe I should move? I can't. I can't leave my grandma or my dog. Ha! It's hard to travel with a dog.

The things all over my house need to just go. I wish my apartment was empty. Then I could breathe.

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