The next 50 years

Well I am officially a nervous wreck.  Shot. Breakdown. Can't function beyond the basics. Money did not arrive from social services last night, which was the "autodeposit" date. Meaning I am not going to have enough to cover the bank debits in the next two weeks. The fallout is unknown and terrifying. I'm swirling around trying to think of ways to suicide even knowing it will fail as always. i JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!! I mean, I have to ride the train wreck all the way down the mountain, don't I?   I can't stop ugly bawling anymore. Idefinitely can't give myself my shot but then I only have one HRT shot left. But I'll run out of ostomy supplies before then. I feel so low.  So utterly worthless and pitiable. None of my self esteem is available now and if I thought it would work I'd lay my naked body down in the snow to die. theoretically it sounds possible but then I would have to make arrangements for the care of the dogs and that would mean...

Today I discovered that I can't tell if Timmy has cold ears unless I put my nose in them. I thought I was more tolerant of touching scalding hot things. I am in fact having an issue. Meanwhile the social worker and possibly doctors think I am lying.  Oh and I can't get the tap open to get at the cartridge, the tool that came with it just bends instead. I've tried soaking it in CLR with no improvement.  So it's fetch water and haul waste water. Oh and the city hasn't lifted the water advisory either. Just Dan refilled my containers at his place and brought an extra.  Oh and it's another snow storm. I have had to cancel any plans to go out. By the time the snow is flattened by other drivers, it will be too cold. So that's fun. And I do have to move some of the drift in front of my gate and car or I won't be able to later.  Finding it extremely hard to put all this out if my mind and be relaxed. Very hard indeed.

If you are reading this and feeling moved to help, please do not hesitate. I am the next needy person you see. Give what you have to give. It might be me. It could be. 

I don't want to sit with it twirling in my head. Maybe if I list it, my anxieties will take a time out. There's nothing I can do about it.  So tomorrow is payout day for social assistance for the next month.  I didn't expect to have to go this long with nothing and I'm running out of options. I'm running out of ostomy supplies and the cold is grinding back in and my credit card is nigh filled up.  I don't even have enough in the bank for the automatic withdrawals at this point. Which all happen in the next ten days. And no word yet. I feel like the intake worker has animosity towards me. When I was telling her my tale she kept interrupting me to minimize my problems.  Like how she went twice as long in her marriage, or how she was responding to my assertions of cold intolerance and inability to just go downtown.  I understood her clearly when she said, "well, whatever you have to do."  Probably the most ableist statement in the language, really. And I ...

By postive I mean that I am relatively calm of mind and not dwelling on fear. I did pop by the federal offices to apply for pension but I know personally it's a vain effort.  Nonetheless, governments must have their forms filled.   I also popped by the fabric store for a few simple sewing staples like bias tape and any discount notions to which I took a notion. I was most disappointed that all the 50% sales were members only.  I used to have to pay for membership and I just don't shop often enough to warrant it.  They give it out free now, but I still consider it elitist and obnoxious.  I never come away from that store feeling calm, but it's the last fabric store in town. It's them or amazon.  Like why bother with marketing and clubs and memberships and what not when you have no competition?  Just sell it at a fair price, put it on discount to clear, and be normal and not play mind games. I did this painting.  It was a paint by number someon...

I used to think that exposure equalled inurement. Like if you got enough needles, the pain would stop  mattering.   But it's not that simple.  When getting chemo and blood tests every day and so on, the effect changes to a greater and greater sense of aversion. Then when the trauma stops, the aversion gets even bigger. The phlebotomists at the clinic taught me this and told me of a salve I could use to numb the area. This helped me bridge over the aversion and get back to tolerating it like normal humans. I've been bullied my whole life by one person or another, only finding peace in solitude or occassionally one person or a crowd.  There's always someone, and they move in on me, exploiting my weaknesses.  And then there's the groups I try to get into. One after another, sometimes it takes months, but they suddenly find a way to disinvite me.  It's usually a lie. One group changed the meeting times but sent a representative volunteer to the old times t...

Dan is definitely going to sabotage my ability to qualify for assistance.  Another $400 mysteriously transfers into my account. I can't prevent it and it implies so much more than I can imagine. It's not good. It's not like he's going to actually support me, see, but he can make it look like he will.  Then leave me hanging whenever he feels like it. I was thinking on Barb the other day offering me money.  Like $100 cash. Which was frankly demeaning. And I suggested she give it to a really awesome guy who uses it to help the homeless, gotsnacks306 on instagram.  Well that money dissappeared as she made a little mouie with her mouth and stated she only gives to people she knows. I didn't say "Yeah, I don't doubt it."  I said "Oh ok."  Because I knew exactly what was going on and it wasn't charity. Narcissists use money to indebt people in order to make of them puppets. "Dance to my tune and I will let you eat this week."  Which I ...

So I decided a yeaar or two ago to work on killing my opinion maker.  I don't want to offer opinions anymore. I don't think it's necessary, useful, wanted, or good for me. An opinion is a final dissertation. A final judgement, even.  While a judgement can be changed, it's much harder after it's been made than when you're still thinking about it.  So an opinion closes the gate and makes itself at home. So then there's yesterday with the gifting snake. That is, the narcissist who came to do me a solid in hopes of getting my power out of it. She spent the whole afternoon trying to take my power and I'd never seen her ingracious side before.  I've known her forty years but she never looked like a bitch before. Why now, when she's making time in her day for me and using her energy and strength and discomfort in my service?  Well yeah, she just never was like that to me before. I got the full bitch for the first time. The side her estranged brother get...

What is it that the only people who'll help are those who hope to get me into a toxic relationship? So I got pretty desperate about my snow tires.  It's snowing again. I'm not any more capable of letting my hands and feet get cold. In fact my feet have that tell tale tingle of nerve damage already.  I don't expect a lot of damage but it's cumulative and can eventually get to where standing is difficult and walking is clumsy and I can't feel things with my fingers.  I was there once. I took magic mushrooms, don't want to have to try that again. So the only person willing to come over was Barb.  Barb is a difficult person. She's the controller in the relationship dynamic with her brother. Frankly, she's emotionally abusive. Repeats lines like "no problem, no judgement here" while also correcting and interrupting to argue and stop and complain that I'm talking too much. But no, she's fine if I stick around. Or not.  In the time she was...

So he's left most of his things here still.  Including his important papers.  The judge denied the divorce on account of not having been enough time for Mr. to claim property rights. There's been a $200 payment dropped in the account to cover the mortgage. All this could add up to legal evidence of a right to inhabit this house or something equally horrible like forcing me to sell it and give him half the equity. I don't know him as well as you'd think and I could never figure out if he was stupid or canny, oblivious or devious, or some combination of all.  It was absolutely horrible living with this opaque enemy of a man.  It's why I've been trying to write it up in a document. But the document is hard to write emotionally. Then, I must re-read it several times to adjust, rearrange sections and delete non-pertinent stuff. All that before I even know what to do with it.  I'm pretty sure I plan to file it at the courthouse with the divorce number on it for a ...

People always say talking things out helps. I don't get it. How?  What does talking do that makes you feel better?  Only time talking to someone helps me is when I foolishly think it will result in advocacy or aid.  Which it doesn't because those are fantasies I've gotten from other people who either live in a fantasy world attached to ours, or are lying. Because there is no such thing as advocacy or aid. There's people helping family or people doing their jobs for people who've been helped by family. Talking only frustrates me. I have to go over all that emotion and worry and bring it all fresh in my mind, purely so you know where I'm at, and then you do nothing with it except resent me for sharing all that negativity.  Where's the help part of talking it out? I do this in my blog for sorting though my thoughts. Having someone scold me for having them in the first place, which also happens often, isn't helpful either. So I try not to complain, to keep i...

Timmy wouldn't eat and he's been extra whiney lately so that started my day sideways. I spent the day working on forms. The printer had to be reinstalled as a usb printer because it won't take the WPS signal and I don't know how to put in the right characters or backspace the mistakes on it's goofy little panel. I've been going from one panic attack to another. I am trying hard to stay quiet for the dogs but when I reaized how ill Timmy is, I really went full hysterical weeping. Eventually I remembered his constipation problem and started treating him accordingly.  He hasn't pooped but he has taken nutrition and laxative and brightened up.  I'm keeping him on liquids, broth, thickened with flour, coconut milk, milk, that sort of thing, and lactulose dosed from the internet. My car bumper is done but not installed, because it's been too cold.  On the weekend it iis supposed to warm up so I will install it then.  I will have to change my own winter tir...

yeah, so I can't find the divorce folder now. I remember being in the bus and closing it and taking it out of current and putting it "away" but where the "away" was escapes me. I assumed I put in the file cabinet but I have not found it there.  I'm feeling extra frusrated about it and I don't kow what to do. From what I can tell, the judge wants me to pretty much do it all again, process server and all, and I don't see how I can.  But in the long run, I don't care about the paper work, just glad he's out of the house. If he's going to suddenly be someone with a lawyer and he forces himself back into my house, a worst case scenario, then I'll pack my teardrop and drive to the coast and live out of my teardrop and car until they break, crash or are impounded or ? Because I won't live with Dan again. I'm clear on that. I hated it. But I don't think he will do anything. He's out and staying out now.I'm too tired to car...

 So the blasted work light turned up and he isn't to blame.  On top of that, I found it while searching for my wallet that I'd hidden a bit too well. Naturally, his assertions over the issue ring in my mind agonizingly.  My first instinct is to take the hit, grovel and apologize, so I can feel like an honorable man. But my second is to shut up and let the cards keep falling anyway because the result of it has been better for me. I don't care how he feels, and that makes me doubt myself. Choosing to sit on this lie makes me doubt myself. Doing something about it will give him ammo for more gaslighting. But then I also go back wondering yet again about the wallet. I'm walking around in a mire of self loathing right now, wondering how to handle it. Naturally, I turn to my writing, because this is the only place I can turn. I don't trust anyone anymore. I don't feel like there's anyone I can trust. I wonder if that's because I'm so far down some nutter p...

 I came here to puzzle through why he did it. Why'd he take my very useful and expensive HD LED worklight off the table when I wasn't watching him like a hawk? Then I saw the last entry title.  Duh.  I've been happy and relaxed. He wants to put me off my pins and succeeded with this. But not long term. He's not allowed in the yard without an appt and supervision and not in the house at all. I've had it. Dumb fool, I have his passport, birth certificate, everything. Well, maybe not so stupid, I either sink to his level and use the leverage, or I do nothing. What's he to lose? He'll get his stuff back or succeed in dragging me down. But he sacrificed everything on the flip of at out thei coin there. that's dumb. Or it shows he has no other feelings outside of that smirking joy when he hurts someone else. Which is so alien to me I can't understand it. It's not new to me. I have run into this far too often.  I'm vulnerable, so I attach abusers.  ...