This week has been a shit show.
I can't even start to detail all the things that are fucked up right now.
I am seriously questioning my belief in a higher power of ANY kind at all. And not even karma... Because There is no reason for this shit.
I spent 80% of today crying. I was going to work on Stan and mine one year anniversary book for our trip to the beach in September. But i had to put it away because I couldn't fucking look at it or handle thinking of it after what has happened today and yesterday and this past week. And since December of last year even. So much wrong. Happening to people who don't deserve it at all. Where is the loving God we all worship where is he now. He has left us to rot on earth. Alone. With no one out there watching and keep tabs and making good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people. we are his failed science experiment. He left us in the lab and walked out to do something else that he thought was worth his time. Maybe if the human race wasn't so pathetic and fighting and killing and if we could get along and live in light... Maybe then God would have stayed and took care of us. But no. He is gone.
I think he is. I am holding onto a small sliver of hope buried deep in my soul that something really amazing is coming and these troubles are so we can appreciate the good even more when it gets here. If it ever gets here. If.
I have relapsed big time on my eating disorder. I haven't eaten more than 1000 calorie a day since July 10th. And when I say that I mean in the 700s or less most days. I couldn't finish my dinner tonight I had to throw it away. I ate two cartons of yogurt and one serving of pretzel crisps and 3/4th a cup of hamburger helper cheese Mac. But didn't eat the noodles part mostly just the meat.
I'm not even hungry anymore. I dont feel it. I feel nothing physically. All my feels are emotional and they are over whelming and all over the place. I am sad and depressed and anxious and mad and pissed and livid and irritable and more sad and empty but not empty. I am crawling inside my own skin with feels that I can't express because they would be violent and hurt me. Or someone else. Or break things. I cry because it's like a pressure valve release on my feels.. The kettle is whistling and boiling something has to let some steam out or it will explode.
With all that is going fucking wrong and side ways these past few days. Weeks. Months.... I am feeling helpless and I want to fix these things so the people I love can be happy and I can't fix it. I can't control it. It is out of my hands... But the one thing. The. One. Thing. I can control is my food and my body and that is the only thing keeping me sane. It's sick and wrong that it's a sickness in and of itself that is keeping me held together with tape and glue.
I need a therapist. Desperately. Like. Really fucking bad. I need a psychiatrist who can actually write prescription for anxiety medications that work. Because this buspar and Lamictal is not doing shit I don't care what the fuck that piece of shit nurse practitioner at Indian Rivers says. As soon as November gets here and I can get insurance I am going for down there to Indian River to personally tell them what a piece of shit place they are. I have been going there for over 5 years and they have "dropped the ball" on me over and over and over. In various different ways. And I want them to know that they are the very last place on God's green earth that I would recommend anyone going to because chances are they are just going to fuck you over a million fucking times.
The only Reason we can even afford to put me on Stan's insurance is that we moved in with my parents and have been able to save money. And with the news of what happen today... About salary stuff at APR. Stan does the job of 3 or 4 people at every single day. And they just shit on him every chance they get.
It took all my self control to not drive into town and go up there and tell these people what pieces of disgusting filthy shit they are.
I did not do it because Stan would get. I trouble. But mark my words the second Stan has another job and we are out the door I am going to write them a beautiful eloquent letter full of rage and anger and every single thing ever that has happened to have this shit storm is going to be thrown in their face. Or. Something. Anything. Idek. As long as I get some kind of last "fuck you" in I will be satisfied.
I can't even remember what I started writing about when I startes this blog post.
My nana has brain cancer and could die any day and dad has no job and my brother is sick and will be for the rest of his life and must uncle Wayne died in a freak accident and Stan is in pain all day everyday and there is nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I can do about it. But I take it out on myself I don't know how to separate my feelings from the people around me and it's all things just want to fix with magic wand and I can't. I can't control it but I can control my food.
So that is that bitches. Good day. Good night. Burn the world to the ground just to have a light to see in the darkness.