spring has sprung and the drought has begun

I feel so tired and beat down.

Still no word about anything  that can be considered hope or rescue or a miracle. Nothing. Worse yet, the cheap $45 a year bus pass removes $52 a month from my income meaning it costs MORE than the regular bus pass would have done. I am stuck now for the year, losing that money off my income which is much too small for this.  If Dan wasn't sharing I would have no food or weed  and no food for the pets and no fuel for anything.  No candles or kerosene, propane or butane.  No diesel for the heater, no gas for the generator.This is so hopeless and helpless and I am so damn disabled now, I just can't feel ok anymore.

The autism is now pretty much full on, like when I was a little child, and it's making difficult things impossible. This includes dealing with websites on my tiny phone screen with my bad vision.  This includes being able to go places because not only is the hernia a liability, but I am so exhausted both mentally and physically.  I cry in public and can't help it.

Yesterday Rene attacked the little dog again and the little dog was bleeding at the mouth and genuinely traumatized. She doesn't want to deal with Rene and frankly neither do I.  i put her off on Dan who does want to deal with her but can't.  So evenings after work he gets her in his tiny van and I don't have to constantly snarl at her and send her away from the couch next to me and remind her constantly that she's unwelcome and I can't afford to get over it and see her kill the other dog. The attacks are not brief, she has to be pulled off. The little one often shows signs of having hidden from the big one when I was out leaving them alone. So when dan goes to work, I take the little dog and went out today on trains exploring and getting exhausted.  Tomorrow I need a solution again and I really need to just sleep. Which is maybe the solution.  Just feed them and go straight back to bed. 

But I mean, I don't know where to send her.  I don't know anyone. I cannot drop her at a shelter, she is way too high maintenance special needs for that. 

I tried posting on a hairless dog group but it's dead except for breeder spam from ukraine. I tried emailling a local rescue but haven't heard back.  Now i"m wondering if I have to put up flyers begging for an adoptive home. And I am so not capable of that. 

I don't know what the hell to do.

If i had a house, I'd just split the house in half and keep them apart and get over it eventually.

My sister keeps turning up on my tik tok all of a sudden. Nothing all winter nor for two years previously, now commenting on my sad posts.  I know she's gloating, and I sense she's watching. Watching for?  So is there a trustee trying to locate me and she hasn't provided info? She would do that. 

I've asked so many places for someone who can contact the probate court for information and it's just been hopeless.  I couldn't do it myself and I can't get anyone else willing to even try.  I had one person say they'd get back to me on it but that person has such massive problems themselves it's no wonder they haven't.  The blind trying to carry the lame while the deaf shout encouragment, and the ableds sneer in disdain at this pathetic parade.

I truly hate the world the way it is, and my life like this.  Truly. I have no intention of continuining to mind my health at all, fuck it.  I WANTto die.If I can't magic myself into a home then I can definitely die whenever.  Either there's forces beyond our machines and science, or not.  I'm happy with a binary answer here, because the third is that i am serving a sentence for criminal behaviour and this is hell and that's why sometimes it seems magic but mostly it seems hellacious. Sometimes it seems like everyone is a demon, although not the part my eyes can see.  And then some small things keep me going. And I think, no, maybe I'm wrong, maybe it'll be ok.

My life is deteriorating at the speed of rust.  It's deceptive.  It goes faster than it seems to. 

My teeth are whack, I use tea tree oil to keep infection at bay. It's a miserable taste.  I put dental wax in the giant hole and over the sharp jagged edges.  I chew only on one side wondering when I'm back on a liquid diet. My belly isn't working anynore either. Between the hernia so loose it falls out while sitting, and the stress constipation, and me dehydrating so i have less weight in my toilet when I take it out, I'm losing all appetite anyway.

Once rene is rehomed, what is my relationship to Dan like then? that's his last emotional tie outside of targeting me and i"m so tired of it. I just want to be alone and create, with like one good little dog being spoiled. But instead it's a slow hard scrabble fall into pain and fear.

I hate that sister so much right now. I'm holding off a little longer because she might be the one I have to talk to if probate forces her to share anything with me. But oh how I long to block her and put her out of my mind.  It's the only defence I have ever had, like how I am doing to rene.  Blocking her out.  I don't know how else to cope with toxic people.

I do not want to say it wasn't my fault.  But I also know there was some very unexpected personality issues from the beginning. I know it's been work for me to deal with her constant arguing and trying to make me chase her around.  I never could be sure she wouldn't wind up in traffic. Never was easy with this one. 

Nevermind the expected challenges with the hairlessness.

Anyway, how long do you wait?  Till there is no other dog and then, well, why get rid of it?  I'd rather shoot her at this point, honestly. 

I have no idea how to rehome her.

I'm so fucking disabled now.  I can't read shit anymore.  It's blurry vision and distracted mind. I can't process language if there's more than one voice going in the room. Like this loud mouthed woman was megaphoning to her worker next to me and mine was using her indoor voice and I just couldn't understand her.  I didn't used to have that problem. 

the back aches and random joints going out came back with a vengeance too.

I don't know what to do.

I've been painting, people seem to care so much about a canvas with paint on it. I don't get it. Why?  my hand painted boxes took 3x as much labour and cost to make but the can't get a second look. Well to be fair, maybe everything I touch is actually shit and I can't see it. Maybe my paintings are shit too.

It's not possible to know by compliments and insults because they both are motivated by expression of affection towards the person, not the work.The work itself is not important,it's whether they like you.  Vincent van Gogh went through the same iife challenges of imposed poverty by a stingy world filled with scorn and insult, false praise and love bombing followed by betrayal.

I believe he had a narcissist friend who was responsible for the ear amputation but bullied or gaslight Vincent into claiming responsibility. Maybe Vincent was out it on absinthe or opium or something.That unremarkably common, unspeakably low, and could explain why vincent just agreed that he did it himself.  

I've enough experience with self harm to say that level of mutilation is incredibly rare and involves a history of lesser injuries first;

Nobody liked his stuff till he was dead and could be collected as a limited edition.  They didn't like him.

They don't like me.  I am so done engaging with them at all. I'm wondering how I want to go about obscuring my face on transit to make it more disengaging.  The normal way of a face mask for contaigon has comfort issues. Lace off my hat is another option but would need to be made and how is it done masculine anyway? 

Plus I am really incapable this week fo anything not mechanically simple because of how stressed out I am about having to divorce my dog. 

That too, we are NOT doing enough for her. No, really She hasn't seen a vet since 2021. Can't afford it. except that expensive ER visit over an inflamed foot. that just scared the shit out of me.  Wiped out a week's grocery budget too.  At a time when money was extra tight. 

She ought to have a heated bed but I can't supply the electricty. she ought to have  a weekly warm bath and scrub too. If we had space, I could separate them just fine. If only, eh? If I was someone else I wouldn't be stuck being this miserable victim of life. Every step I turn, there's some insurmountable obstacle and at the top, someone hollering that I am not worthy as they open the gate for scoundrels and the very worst humans.  

How can I not think this is hell?  She's a hell hound  too. Keeping the dogs apart is now a major effort.

I am quitting talking altogether.  It's going to take awhile to get in habit, but I must stop responding to friendly small talk.  I get nothing from it but embarassment. it's not going to teach me social skills, that ship has sailed.  It's therefor also not going to result in any connections of value to me either.My efforts lately have shown that I can't relate to anyone anywhere and am too inhibited anyway.  I also just feel so leperous right now. We don't have "leprosy" anymore, it's got a nice cryptic name and treatment besides. But that sort of feeling like a turd in the pool everywhere I go.  I cannot try to make friends like this. Even if I still had any social skills left. I don't. I can't even regulate my mood, much less be aware that the topic is wrong or that I've derailed or anything, anything at all. It's so fucking awkward and embarassing I walk away and cry about it.  I kept having to wipe tears on the train for feeling so fucked up. 

It's over, there's nowhere left to ask for help and things are just stagnating and slowly falling apart like the paint flaking off the bus. I can't even wash the bus because between my bad health and the sharp pains it causes, and the fact that water has to be fetched by car in jerry cans, how do I wash my bus or clean things?  The laundry, huh, it's got a permanent funk now from being washed and dried in a laundromat nad never properly clean because it can't be customized. No presoak laundry sink either.  Just nothing but the machine wash and whatever detergent. No wonder people use all those stinky dryer addons! 

The latest house interest got delisted.  It didn't say why. It's depressing me too. But with no way to buy a house, no way to pay rent, and even if I had a float house it might take the whole $1500/mth welfare to keep up the moorage if I don't have the ability to pay it up a few years in advance and save towards it.  All while that tax debt continues to be a weapon dangling above me on a fine thread. I still have no idea what came of the income tax filed last winter on my behalf.  I also don't know how much my house sold for.  was there extra? Did it go on the tax account? Why haven't I gotten my notice of assessment or anything???

The person who filed it has since ghosted me and I am still confused what the fuck happened. But as I heard it, I need to file to get health coverage. That means they really just got me in there to force me to file through them.  But now what?  They do not arrest for tax debt in canada, so what? 

Anyway, I'm losing my appetite and that's ok.  I've also got kidney pains so maybe that's how I die, losing my kidneys. One is already gone, after all.  Dehydrating myself the way I do puts the other at risk and i just don't give a fuck.  I hate pissing on that smelly toilet, i hate changing the paper towel that soaks up the leak. I hate carrying it out to the storm drain.I hate my life.  I hate the world I can reach. It gives me so little, and so begrudging, I cannot possibly feel valued or wanted.  I've done so much to try and have value and instead they take offence at my tone and refuse to even see what my use might be.  if you can't entertain people with conversation they have no use for you.   I can find no place in such a world. None. there's nothing for me in that. Well if I am not worthy of support, then I suppose my idea of dying is logical, right?

I just can't seem to achieve it, is all.

Eventually, LOL, but not soon enough.  I'm already ten years too long alive. Shouldn't have woken up Dan that night demanding that he notice I was nearly dead.  Another week would have done it. Why? I wanted to die. I just got so mad at him over it. How dare he ignore his wife like this? I got pissed off and it made me poke him. then once the diagnosis was made it was so nice being treated kindly that I started to feel okay about not being dead.  I still did take all my pain pills one night in hope, but it failed, like everything does. 

That IS why I haven't jumped off the bridge. I'm actually a very skilled swimmer and used to free diver in the pools. I swim under water, though, so it never was a sport thing. Just the same, I swim like a fucking dolphin down there. Or a seal or something. So jumping off the bridge into the harbour is really just a risk of brain damage, spinal cord damage, I don't know, but my animal brain knows how to turn in the air, dive into water, swim back up, handle cold bottomless green murk (lake ontario off the sailboat) and etc.   I'm a water baby. I risk greater disability but not likely death. Poeple do that cliff diving, so it's not like you can't.  More like I'd have bad form and break something but still swim like a seal back up.   the body does have it's own mind and will stop you. That's how I know Vincent didn't cut off his own ear.  You just can't.   You can't. The hand will stop itself before you face injurious pain.  

Now, that being said, I've seen some pretty extreme self mutilation images online before the controllers got online. It was wide open for awhile. Anyway, it proves me wrong, but again, those poeple start out small and work up to it and have a history of self cutting, self humiliation, and etc. which Vincent did not.

Ok, this is extremely long. Oh, the parking spot has been as good as I could ask. Dark and quiet at night, mostly, although insanely busy traffic all day. From 5am till 12pm,with lulls now and then during the day.  It tires me out.

I'm just so tired and worn out.  Nobody fucking ever gave a shit, really. Not even the people who most rely on to love me ever did. The closest I've ever come was narcissistic attachment.  

I can't survive on my own and I can't get a decent person to support me. I have spent too much time feeling this way in my life, it feels nostalgic.   Keeps me tense and awake too, mind you. 

Is the world even real, though? Not in the existentialist sense, but the nihilist sense?  Or maybe it is like the matrix and I am a virtual being suffering in a virtual world and only so someone out there can exercise their sadistic urges "safely."

there will never be a definite answer. I don't care, not really, but it adds to my feelings of who the fuck am I, what do people see when they look at me (scared to know) and what is the point of this pain?

Oh, and I realized if I train myself to be mute around others I won't struggle with all the practice conversations that emotionally terrorize me and are usually for naught anyway.  I only sometimes hear myself using rehearsed phrases, most of the time I don't even know what I was doing as the memory wasn't writing.

Oh andf the memory.  My memory and my general cognition are wrecked.  I wander around like an amnesiac trying to imprint my surroundings on me hoping to recognize and learn by exposure. it works, but I also cannot do things like remember why I called or stopped by somewhere, what I did while there, orwhat I'm supposed to do later.  I don't know the day of the week except I check my phone a bunch because I have to move the bus 2x a week to make it hard to ticket me.

Car still has the passenger door stuck and the inner panel disassembled. It's ugly and now too there's junk in the footwell to stop a dog flying off the seat. And the back cover's wooden support  sticks all broke so the back is visible, and thecar cover is tattered and stained. the shop never reset the counter so I can't tell when it needs service againand I'm too disabled to ask them to do it after the fact 

engaging with the welfare office today was so trying I cried openly in front of everyone.  Silently, but streaming tears, and it's so awful to be emotional in front of others. It is not brave, it is torture.

So now I have to go out every day around humans when I'm so impaired I can't not cry in front of them? What's more, I can't pick up any food or drink or anything, I'm out of money already.  It's gone.  $5 won't buy me anything. That's all there is left. I did top up on food,so there's that, but I still have another $835 to pay the mechanic so that's 2 more months of sending all discretionary funds to the mechanic.  He earned it, he got my brakes working and not spilling out all over the floor. they don't work well, but they do let me move the bus.  I can't be driving it, mind you, it burns too much smoke, has too much noise out the broken manifolds. It's a heat score. It's begging the police to yank it off the road.  Technically it's illegal already because you are NOT allowed to keep it out of province like this. they just look the other way where it's licensed through.For now.  I mean, it's a ticking time bomb too.  

I can't even store the bus with what welfare pays out and then what? 

Oh, and there's moths in here anyway. I can't even empty it out to clean and rid myself of the infestation.  They could destroy everything I've made, most of my clothes, my fabrics, my fibers at all stages of production, my blankets, pillows, some toys.

If i don't get the fuck into housing soon it's all going to just disintegrate. At the speed of rust.

And I can't figure out how to get rid of the big dog who is the actual obstacle to subsidized housing. No large dogs, much less two.