Vitriol Espresso"I come in peace. I didn't bring artillery. But I'm pleading with you, with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I'll kill you all." General James Mattis
Obamacare passed. I guess I don't have to move to Canada after all. Not that I'm for this bill, I'm against it for other reasons, but it's a done deal and that's all there is to it now. I just hope my doctor doesn't retire anytime soon cuz he's the only doctor in the county that will see medicare patients.
Can someone give me a pep talk? I need one. Gotta find a counselor or something and try to get a handle on these anxiety attacks I've been having. Mom's death obession is coming back onto me again and it's making things worse.
In a couple days I'll be headed back to the homestead. Hopefully armed with a new perspective. I've been investigating the local college and with any luck I can call when I get back and try to see a counselor. I'd like to do any number of things, but getting off my ass and doing something productive is at the top of the heap.
Think I'd be good at office crap? Probably not, but I gotta do something while I pursue bigger things. I think I've actually developed a dream of sorts. Outside the housewife thing...which I'm NOT giving up on. Some man out there needs a woman to take care of his home and kitchen and when he arrives I'll be here. Assuming he does...but that's part of the dream, I guess. It's my only remaining dream outside this new developing one.
That last anxiety attack was a real doozy. Kinda shitty to have them on what's supposed to be my vacation with Dad. They're coming hard and fast. This leads me to believe that the status drugs I'm taking aren't doing the job for me. So far from home I can't friggin stop taking them, though. God, I feel like this self-focus is going completely out of control while the rest of the world moves on. My anxieties should be listed somewhere so I can work them out. Good suggestion? I got a notepad around here somewhere...
Listening to Santana while I try to figure out what to say here for some kind of update. Not that it's written for anybody but me, it's good to stop and think about something other than impending doom. Klonadin is my savior, make no mistake. I think I found Jesus in the bottle, as a matter of fact. Like Xanax without the hangover the next day, it helps me sleep when anxiety rears it's ugly head again.
I have a lot to be anxious about, I guess. I'm getting old in seclusion when that was never the plan. Car come, car go, etc. I really did get $500 in cash from my brother who for the first time in our lives actually stooped to help me out of a hole. It's getting harder and harder to find that silver lining I used to look for all the time, harder to see the good in things and instead wallow in pity and self doubt. Without one thing other things will not happen and so on and so on. It's hard to know where to start and where to end up.
Once again I am trying to figure out what to do with the remainder of my life. Believe it or not all I ever really wanted to be was a good housewife. That's it. I don't demand sex or even closeness, my anxieties and self-hatred keep that from happening much of the time anyway. But taking care of my own home and someone to keep me company is pretty much it for me. Somehow that doesn't look as if it's going to happen and the anxiety from just this thought is enough to make my heart race and tears to spring out to mess up my glasses. My biggest fear is being alone and I've been alone for so long it's wearing down my psyche. I don't want to die alone.
Ah hell, as if it matters. Something needs to change in a drastic way or I'm going to spiral into a really bad place. Suggestions on how to do this are appreciated.
Hahahahahaha. If only, if only. I've decided to go back to school....when I can get a car to get me there. *sigh* The public transport hasn't gotten back with me so there's no guarantee once I get there that I'll get a ride home. That's kind of important when I'm an hour away from home. I will kill my brother if that five hundred bucks isn't available to help me buy a better ride. It's pathetic that I have to keep renting cars to get to doctor appointments and nobody will help me buy a fucking beater.
A honda would be nice. Or an old nissan. You know? Moving is kind of out of the equasion now, I guess. The only apartments I can get have kids living in the complex. Not totally horrible, but when you mix that up with teenagers things get unsavory. My only saving option is a better car to get me to where I want to go and home again without costing me an arm and a leg.
See, here's the story. My little brother bought himself a new car. Which is great, he's a good kid and he deserves it. He gives his still decent old car to dad. And dad gives the old car to me because I said something about needing one. Well, it didn't get to me. It went to my older brother who kept it and drove it and said it was a fun ride. HOWEVER, nobody was willing to fund me getting it back to where /I/ live. So older brother sells the car for $500. My hopes were crushed. Completely. One little straw of sunlight suddenly gets yoinked away. So I hit a depression I haven't hit in years...I was really down. And I guess I still am. Now I get to go visit with these people and hope (there's that word again) that the $500 is still available for me to use.
Hope is a demon. I'm convinced. Hope is fucking black-ass evil. I don't know what to trust anymore. And I think a man could ever be in love with me? Hahahaha...if only, if only. Okay, I don't hate life. I'm scared of death. But there doesn't seem to be a happy in-between, does there?
