After a Long Hiatus (dual post)

I am still fighting with social security, I've had three surgeries in the last three months, and my depression has taken a wicked hold of me. My gallbladder somehow got super infected, to the point I was running a decent fever despite taking a high dose of prescription NSAIDs around the clock, which should eliminate any normal fevers. I suppose it was fortune or fate that I happened to be on them, because I was in the hospital for an unrelated matter, and a nurse completely brushed off my extreme pain and gave me an over-the-counter medication.

I might have gotten brain damage if I wasn't on my diclofenac, because who know how high the fever would have been untreated with me thinking that the pain was just something I needed to just bear through. I need to really press charges against Hellmont, this is the second time I have come from that place suffering physical harm from their lack of care.

My depression has really kept me from writing on here, and my back pain from using the computer. The pain has been so severe for several months, and it won't let up. I am at a loss as to what to do, and to top everything off my food stamps have gone from a nice $200 which is easy to work with at grocery stores, to $60. No joke. Seriously. I need to feed myself on $2 a day. Which means, no more V8, or fruit juices, or dried fruit-which helps me because of my back, or the organic milk I like, or a lot of other healthy things that cost a bit more...

Also it has come to my attention that rape is something that people, all of whom I have met have been male-with the exception of one female who was a victim I met five years ago, is not considered a "big deal". People need to get over it. It's "held high on some stupid pedestal for no reason where it doesn't belong, it's nothing", said someone in Ungodly Wrath, the WoW guild on the Stormrage server. He's not the only one who holds this sentiment, either. It seems a lot of people are just inconsiderate to the idea that it might actually harm people. That there are such things as rape victims. They seem to think that every person who claims it is just some liar or something.

So because of government and because of these people I am fasting. I will eat what I can on my foodstamps, and nothing else, unless on occasion someone chooses to assist the wellfare case that I am. I find it ironic because my best friend wanted exactly what's happened, the government not taking care of people. So now I will be eating a caloric intake that will probably be near starvation, which I've done before, and we will see how it goes. I hope that all those stupid men out there might ackowledge that rape happens, and not every girl lies, and maybe the government can help people afford food.

Oh, and also, you lose food stamps if you study more than 4 credits of college. So despite my back problems, even if I took several online classes, I would lose that little bit of money to eat. Heh.

Depression is a Cage

I don't know how many times that I have been to the hospital since I last posted. A lot of times though. Allen, my best friend has kind of turned evil on me and has become very verbally abusive and he no longer trusts me nor believes what I say. He really is not my best friend anymore, which hurts. That was the closest thing that I had to family.

I keep listening to Metric's song Blindness

You gave me a life I never chose

I wanna leave, but the world won't let me go

Wanna leave, but the world won't let me go

I have probably spend 90% of the time in my room since I last posted. I keep wanting to kill myself... I called the clinic way ahead of time AGAIN and I am out of my bi-polar med for the last few days...

Shortly after my last post, Allen went through all aspects of his life and explained how I am ruining it. Just by me living, breathing, existing, I cause him suffering because he worries about me, even if I am home in my room. Although it isn't unfounded. I found an RX for 90 lisinopril, along with 90 propranolol, and a bunch of pain meds, slice a main artery, paramedics would be like, fsck. 

I have finally realized that my ex boyfriend is sort of a despicable person, and I unfortunately had to go through hell to find it out, and so is Allen. Allen said that he would not talk to Mike Watson, whom I have actually communicated with. I find the man disgusting filth, but I am respectful I don't ignore messages on purpose because of the person, unless it is like my first boyfriend who wants to kill me.

But get this, my ex has sorted me into this category of person. Despite Allen's hatred and emotional abuse, mutual friends of Allen and my ex think Allen is being a dick to me, their words, and don't see anything wrong with me.

I know that I am not perfect and I make mistakes, but Allen just punishes me for things that he forgets all the time.

Starting school, I was hoping to escape from Allen some, but he is there before and after class. I found out that a friend is taking a class there on the same day, so I am going to perhaps see if I can get a lift earlier in the day and later home. Then Allen won't have to bitch at me so much.

It is isolating, too... I have to use my wheelchair, the drive is painfully long. I am horrible at dealing with people. Also I sit at the very front, alone. "Hall-sensei" the teach is one greedy complicated little bitch.

She has marked up the price of her workbook in the bookstore super high. Also the chart she wants people to use, she has copyright on, too, and it is over ten dollars! I studied hard for a quiz for the Japanese class Wednesday and turns out it was open chart, but only her chart. WOW, such incentive to purchase her chart. I have a handmade chart that is by far superior by the way it is organized, but I couldn't use it. I know I got 100%, but it pisses me off that other students got 100% and they didn't do anything, they used a codex for all purposes.

I can't really fall back into World of Warcraft as a good release. The guild that I was the fourth member of, I quit before I was kicked, yes before I would have been kicked. I was discussing things that Allen had told me about raider members, how if they had bad DPS they would be kicked without explaination, notice, and no demotion or anything! And then he recanted everything that he had said to me, despite the screenshots I have of what he said to me...

It is like every single time Allen forgets something I get into trouble, lol. Just waiting for him to start hitting me now. My appointment with my back surgeon Friday, he was so angry when I reminded him for the uptinth time 2 weeks ago, saying that Friday was the ONLY day he could not do anything. Yet when we were scheduling, he said Friday was the ONLY day he could for sure take me! Again he forgot, and I got the wrath.

My heart was hurting on thursday night, Allen angrily told me right before his raid to get out of his room. Yeah just like that, lol. I was like O_o wtf, but I was scared so I left as quickly as I could manage. The stabbing pain was so bad, I called 911, and Allen was angry that I didn't tell him I had called 911 or was seeing paramedics cause I was fearing a heart attack. He specifically told me NOT to bother him during raid. Lose lose. It is always lose lose with him.

His mom visited me in the hospital. They admitted me for my back pain, against my will. Heart seems okay, but with all the medications that I take, it is not impossible for something to go wrong. But his MOM, not him.... some best friend lol. I am only his best friend cause of the 2 friends he has I know him better, lol.

One night I willingly went to the County Hospital, where I don't get sued. They skipped over my name on the list, so I waited hours extra, and I was carving into my arm in the waiting room and security told me I couldn't do that. No psychiatric intervention, great, huh? Never came up the entire time I was there.

I sit in my room and plan out different ways to kill myself, I can't bear to open any of my mail, it just piles up, thousands of dollars of bills that I have no way to pay. SSI denying me still. Living in constant pain. I think if I didn't do it easily at home, maybe I would go to the Creationist Museum, try to graffiti rape victims are doomed to hell, and blow my brains out with copies of notes about my abuses and which parts of the Bible damned me to hell. I was watching "What's the matter with Kansas?" when I thought that one up.

My ex would be so happy.  

Facing the past in the flesh

Last Friday at the arcade he was there, my ex. Before and after several people kept raising the question, "Do you think he might have broken up with you because of your back?" I was able to catch him alone for a moment last week and talk to him. He was emotionless and distant towards me. Now I honestly wonder if perhaps that may have been part of the reason when before I just took his word for truth.

I've been off my bi-polar medication for about a week. I called the clinic to get it early last week, but they failed to get it, still. I have been having swings, right now I am in a bad depressive swing. Suicidal desires and thoughts are filling my head, or just very extreme self-mutilation.

I found out that my best friend, Allen's, mother is so concerned that I need a good boyfriend that she is willing to pay the fee for me to join eHarmony.com. It is a sweet gesture of an idea, but I feel so disgusted that I am so undesirable that that is the sort of extreme measure that needs to be taken for me to get a  date.

My back has been faring horribly the last few weeks. The pain seems to be gradually, steadily, getting worse and worse. I can't go a day anymore without having to take a Dilaudid, when before I went over a week without event the moderate pain killers. Well, it is more than the back, though. The nerves running through both of my legs hurt so badly, stinging, just hurting, feeling like acid is designating them... it is hard to ignore. There are now so many involved I cannot trace where they go unless only one hurts, lol.

Last week I was surprised when I found out some things that Allen had epicly failed to tell me about that had affected M showing up to the arcade, completely unrelated to me, and M was surprised that I did not know. I know Allen has feelings for me, I cannot help but wonder if it was his ineptitude or perhaps motive that kept him from telling me these things. It greatly affected my behavior in a way that hurt possible chances of kindling a friendship for M and myself. Allen went and fucked my life up again.

I bear a terrible secret that I can tell no one, as I discovered when I was getting interviewed for mental health, and a scar that will never go away because of Allen. Even if he grows up and learns to take care of himself as an adult should, that scar is still there. I only think of this now because I could have sworn the other day that I think he wanted to kiss me. It makes me feel sick. He is a nice guy, the scar is in the past, but it is forever on me still.

Yesterday he was called out urgently to go out, and did not want me to go with, citing that I would take too long, and I was pissed. Reluctantly he allowed me, and he wound up going to the comicbook store before getting down to business! He thought I was a waste of time when he was going on a frivolous venture?! Then when we were home he invited me into his room to chill, but then began ignoring me, seemingly annoyed by my presence. Allen confuses me to no end and hurts me so deeply because he is my best friend and roommate. I see him so much, he helps me so much. I don't mind giving him space, but if he wants space he shouldn't invite me into his room and then become annoyed at my presence.

I am still fighting with lawyers and SSI. It all just makes me want to go back to Hellmont if I could just have my cane or wheelchair. The large scar marring my right leg, I want to do something like that. Carve out a large piece of flesh, savor the feeling. Just get away. Maybe finally take that bottle of pills. I have an appointment late next week, it would be easy to cancel if I took them all now and died. I already have everything written out in a folder titled SUICIDE on my desktop. Instructions and letters to people. Allen would feel bad though, supposedly. He really doesn't act like he gives a shit though. Just empty words and emptier actions.

Pain, Life, Fiction, Salt

I am typing in the evening for once, instead of my zombie-insomnia state. It almost feels weird. So a friend has been trying to get me back into World of Warcraft, but I have a problem with sitting up straight for very long, it causes great pain. I usually need to recline at around 45 degrees or so to prevent such pain, or delay it, and elevate my knees to around chest level to prevent pain. Even with a bunch of pillows and blankets putting my body into a beyond ergonomic position, I have still been experiencing pain using the computer for too long, having to put more pillows to adjust my hips to be askew depending on which nerves are hurting.

Despite such gross physical limitations, the government deems me perfectly fine to work, but I really cannot think of any job. It is 7:30PM and I have not eaten food yet today, because of the severe pain walking to the restroom caused. I mean, forget food when it hurts that bad!

M is still ignoring me. A mutual friend who unfortunately has probably been put into the middle is still in contact with me and going to read chapter 1 of my novel if he ever gets time. I watched a movie this morning called "What If..." it was very Christian themed, but even for non-religious or other religions, it was a very nice film. Essentially about a big time business man and what if he had became a family man and a man of God instead. It's made me dwell on my novel some.

M reeks of Mahoku so badly. Oh, I get to say it on here, because no one in my life except perhaps my sister and the nice guy from Google know about this email! Mahoku is a main character in my novel series. He is very intelligent and he can be kind in his own right, but he is usually reserved and does not consider others a lot when it comes to general life. I wonder if maybe that is why I fell so hard for M... I fell for a person that I have known for many years, through my own work of fiction, I just coincidentally met someone who was the same in personality. It makes me feel good as a writer that they match well, like hey, real character flaws and strengths! But, it is extremely disturbing to me if I am correct... 

M kept secrets from me that prevented a lovely future, much like in What If..., Mahoku is the same sort of person, that he would keep secrets if he felt they were unwarranted to be heard. The more I learn about M the more I find out he is like my fictional character, and the more disturbed I am.

On some level you would think it would make me fall out of love, but Mahoku is a good man at the core, or at least it seems so from what you see in the first novels. Yet, I am not the person for him, the person who can make him happy romantically.

So here I am in pain, comparing my ex-boyfriend to a character in my novel on a blog no one is probably ever going to read. Well, it is my outlet, my only outlet. The suicidal desires are very bad today, very bad. M has fallen on side with my father, step-mother, and many others who's lives would be better if I finally succeed with taking my life. M would probably never find out that I even killed myself for one. He is so dead-set on ignoring me and removing every shred of me from his life, that he would probably never find out if I died or won the lotto. He would never hear from me again, think I finally came to my senses, and be happy that I was gone.

My father and step-mother made it quite clear when I was 15 that if I killed myself it would be a good thing. Although now my father acts like he is concerned about my mental health, I do not understand the reason for the ruse. I am freaking out so badly. I am alone in my room, which is a bad thing, I shouldn't be alone in my room. I'm eyeing those blood pressure pills I refilled JUST in case I decided to take them all.

A doctor did mention that I could not succeed and cause permanent damage, but if my calculations are right, or even kind of off, that bottle alone should stop my heart and lungs. Propranolol, I never should have been put on it in the first case. Ironically the doctor who prescribed it, get this, I was sent to see her for depression! While I was on propranolol to try to help my migraines, I got like 3 concussions and kept fainting due to severe hypotension (low blood pressure), and she suggested that the fainting was due to psychological reasons! My psychiatrist urged me to get a new PCP (primary care physician), and I had already scheduled for one by that time.

I have that, two full bottle of Valium, and a full bottle of Ultram. I'd fall asleep forever. I mean, if I am realistic, it is going to be hard to sue that doctor who ruined my life forever, and even if I do, the money I'll see will be so minimal. The pain is so bad. Emotionally yes, but physically, I don't know how much longer I can do it.

I have an appointment to see my back surgeon next week. It would be rude to kill myself before then, given how busy they are there, so maybe he can help with the pain. I just am wearing myself so thinly, I am about to break. There is pain bad that you scream, cry, sob, then shake, and are silent, then you are just still because you just want to die. I used to hurt like 5/10 or maybe a 6 on bad days. Now 8-10/10 for hours on end is not unusual, it is as if every day after I left Hellmont I hurt more and more, like a wound getting reopened again and again and again.

I must be pathetic, I have a plan as to how to off myself, but I am enduring agony to be polite to my nice doctor, just in case he has a solution. I will admit that when I went to the hospital that I was forced to go to when I last tried to take a walk, and collapsed, and got pain management, all suicidal thoughts soon dissipated. Maybe that's why I feel suicidal, I cannot really think of any other reason, just that life is hurting. It hurts too much to eat, breathe, sleep, anything. The pain is so bad, I take the pills, but they don't help much, if they even help. Right now, they won't help, I am too far gone. I guess since I am being polite to live to that appointment I will look for epsom salts, magnesium sulfate salts do help ease some of the pain, and do not get you high if you snort them. 

PTSD And The Bible Eating Away At Me

Some names have been changed. 

This post contains some dark and perhaps mature content, of abuse and sexual abuse, I will put *** in a row before and after such content. As this is not the norm, I have not marked my blog as such, but it involved my past and explains in depth more what caused my PTSD.

Today is M's birthday.[began at 7/15] As I lied awake last night, fretting over nothing and everything at the same time, the insomnia driving me. The stupid insomnia caused by that crazy kleptomaniac from Hellmont, waking to find someone looking at your panties right in front of your face in a room you should feel safe in is f***ing scary. Especially when you found out that she had continually been going into your room like every night.

I wanted so much just two months ago to celebrate today with M together. He was the only kind guy that I dated. I touched upon this in my other blog, but I want to delve into this in here as this is my personal blog.

Way back when I was 17, there were two guys who got crushes on me Kevin and Tim, and they were best friends. I caused them to not be friends for a while, but now they are good friends again, and so there are many lies that are believed that I am not going to try to argue about or even offer evidence that I have in medical records. Yes, medical records.

Now Kevin was my type, nerdy, smart, shy, kind, sweet, and so on... I flirted with him and pulled a sly maneuver to see if he was single, and unlike most guys on level with his nerdiness, he actually puzzled out that I had pulled that move! Yet, once he found out that Tim liked me, too, he pretended to not be interested in me, so I sort of gave up the fight. Then Tim turned on the charm.

I hadn't had a boyfriend. I had only kissed one guy, once! I had wanted that first kiss to be my boyfriend even, but he had written me a very compassionate note apologizing as to why he could not be my boyfriend, that I discovered when I woke up. (I fell asleep as we were watching Phantom of the Opera, which is when the kiss occurred, it was like Hollywood perfect, cliche first kiss.)

So Tim was cute and nice and began to flirt. He was goth, which I liked. He was funny, he understood me very well, and he seemed to have an air of intelligence. He claimed to have graduated from high school early, knowing at least two foreign languages, and many other things that I found extremely interesting. Now, as I went to a school where people did graduate early and speak a few languages fluently, it did not dawn on me that he was lying straight to my face.

Tim was a pathological liar, and I had no idea. I was naive and young, and Kevin watched as I fell into the arms of someone who he knew was dangerous. After Tim got tired of me and left me, Kevin had admitted that he knew that Tim was violent, but he didn't think that Tim would be violent to a girl. Of course I did not even think that Tim could be violent as he soon became a best friend to me, and was there to comfort me as another crush I had did not work out well.

Tim was there to catch me as I was emotionally in turmoil, and he gladly was there to take advantage of it. He blatantly lied that he hadn't been in a relationship either, that as we were embarking on becoming boyfriend and girlfriend, this was both our first experience of anything near this. M did the same thing, just blatantly pushing aside relationships that he felt did not count. I always seem to fall for this, sadly.

Tim was a great boyfriend for the first month of our dating. He was so sweet and kind. He often would show up to my apartment nearly every day to go for a walk or to go to his best friend Zack's house and hang out there. I could not have guessed the horrors that I was going to be exposed to. It was the end of the first month that Tim began to exhibit controlling behavior, that he did not want me to go to places without him. I never really saw anything too wrong with it, but eventually it came to a point that he forced me to stop going to my church.

Two more weeks went by and I will never forget what happened, but I can never remember why it happened. He hit me in the face, so hard that I fell to the floor, my jaw aching so badly. I began to cry and I ran to my room, and it had no lock, so I leaned against the door to try to keep it closed. Tim quickly ran to it and began to apologize that he had lost control, he did not know what happened to him, it would never happen again, and eventually he budged the door open.

I foolishly believed him as he hugged me. There was a reason I ran to my room though was because this situation was familiar  My mother and sister had often argued and then the argument became violent and they would throw things, or my mother would hit my sister with an object. My mother often would make up to my sister, but it never stopped the violence later, from either of them.

I believed him the second and third time, too. I stopped believing after that, but because my apartment door's lock could be jiggled open, and he hinted that I would not be around if I ever tried to leave him or go to the police, I realized that I just had to endure it.

Okay I am about to talk about the Bible, actually link things from the Christian King James Bible. Which I find it only appropriate for mature readers.

*******************************************************************************************

My sister who had moved into the heart of Chicago had experienced an even worse live-in boyfriend, so I felt determined that I could persevere. She had also been pressuring me to read the Bible. Cut off from my church, unfortunately I did, I began to avidly read the Bible, which turned out to be a very unfortunate thing.

It was things like Leviticus Ch12 which essentially is just saying that women are unclean after having a child. I was trying to find books that told of how God wanted his children to live. I was shocked to see that. But then there is Leviticus Ch19:9-30, that having your period is sinful. That just existing as a female is sinful. Yet, my sister kept urging me to keep reading the Bible. Chapter 20 is mostly agreeable, like don't go around sleeping with your family, except for 20:18-"And if a man shall lie with a woman having her sickness, and shall uncover her nackedness; he hath discovered her fountain, and she hath uncovered the fountain of her blood: and both of them shall be cut off from among their people." Another verse essentially pressing that it is sinful to have your period... but especially to have sex during it. Wow there is just so much, let me make a separate page for this...

Deuteronomy Ch 22:28-29 “A man might find a virgin girl who is not engaged and force her to have sexual relations with him. If other people see this happen, he must pay the girl’s father 20 ounces of silver.And the girl will become the man’s wife, because he used her for sexual sin. He cannot divorce her all his life.

--Easy to Read Version


Now, I had many Bibles, and they all pretty much said that, but not in such nice and plain terms. More objectifying the woman. You can guess what happened to me next. I was raped in a city, and I thought that I was damned to hell unless we would marry. It was a brutal rape. We had been kissing and he went to take off my pants and I was uncomfortable and about to express such when it began to happen. The pain of my flesh being torn was so bad that it took my breath away. It hurt worse than a lot of my nerve pain from my back. Once he managed to force most of himself in I began to scream for him to stop.



Hands around my neck and harsh words for me to be quiet made me just quietly whisper for him to stop. I tried to push him off me, but he felt like he weighed hundreds of pounds, so I began hitting his chest, to no avail. I desperately begged for him to stop what he was doing, as tears poured from my eyes from the sheer physical pain of being torn to pieces, my cervix being crushed, and the emotional pain that someone I trusted so dearly was betraying me so harshly. It seemed to have lasted for an eternity, but it was minutes. It was unprotected, and I felt as he climaxed inside me. Fear of hell, pregnancy, Tim killing me, and so many other things raced through my mind. As soon as he was done he shoved me away, into the wall his bed was against and he lit a cigarette and told me to get dressed.


I was sobbing as I stood up, I thought that the pain had been bad lying down. He asked me why I was crying and I quietly said that it hurt, but he shrugged it off. Once I was dressed he demanded that I go home. It was around 1AM, It was a dangerous neighborhood. It was below freezing by this point and I had no coat. I tried to ask to stay or for a coat or anything, but he got very angry and yelled for me to leave immediately.


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After I had been first raped by my first boyfriend Tim, the walk home from his house took me a lot longer than usual, due to the pain I was in. Once I arrived back to my apartment, my roommate greeted me giddily and was like, "Oh my god, you did it! You lost your virginity, didn't you?" Thinking that I had been returning from a romantic wonderful night, she hugged me and I resumed crying, and I said I was very tired, I went to my room, and I fretted as I was in pain and bled for days.
I was so scared about being pregnant. Especially as Tim began to re-exhibit his behavior of that horrible night. I learned that if I did not fight it, it caused less pain. Somehow over six months, even though I blacked out from being choked, got nasty bruises from that, too, and got sprains, and was raped and then just became a sex object to be used because I was not safe if I fought it, I did not die or get pregnant.

Yet Tim left other permanent scars. Aside from the two suicide attempts, and then another third one, every time someone raises their voice in anger I back away, I get stiff, I get scared, I feel fear. It is as if I expect to be hit. It did not help that my step mother screamed at me and then my father beat the crap out of me before I was kicked out, either, lol.

I had no trust in any male I meet. Although I have mostly male friends, I do not like to be alone one on one with them, which is why on Friday when I had food with a guy I met at the arcade, and it was just us, it was very unusual. And by the end of the night things were dredged up that left me bothered for the entire weekend. Skittish at going to a place to eat with a guy in a crowded place in the same mall that the arcade is in...

Scar tissue is on my cervix, a lot. It is 'damaged', a doctor asked me if I had been raped. I probably cannot carry a child to term. I have to take birth control pills to control my period or else it is extremely painful, due to the mis-shaping that occurred during my abuse. It is also possible that my urethra was affected by the abuse, too, which made all my catheters very annoying and painful.

Kevin had become a really good friend during the time I had been dating Tim, because they were friends, I was allowed to fraternize. Kevin was one of the first people I broke down and confessed to the horrors of what happened, and I did not even go into detail. What is mentioned above is just brushing the very top. Kevin sympathized, and began to dislike Tim, although that hadn't been what I was trying to do.

Now, years later, Kevin believes what ever the lies were that Tim told him about those horrible 6 months. I am not going to go about showing off my medical records to show that I have proof, although I could, but I am sad that Tim is so sociopathic that he can trick people so easily.

Last night I was calculating how much of what medications I needed to take to kill myself, and I realized that I needed help. I went through my contact list, and I came up dry... So desperately I called Kevin, someone who I can always call if need be. But, it is always tinged now, with him thinking that I am some sort of evil person who was trying to ruin his friend's life or something. About a year and a half ago now, Tim kept trying to contact me. The last time he did so, he described in detail how he was going to come to California and kill me, so I began to file for a restraining order. Kevin found out and began to chastise me.

Tim had just gotten out of jail, how could I do such a thing? Because he abused me physically and sexually and has made many threats on my life, maybe? But, no, my word is never good enough. It is never ever good enough. Not for Kevin... Not for my best friend even. He shrugs off my word all the time, and it eats at me. For people who don't live by the Bible they sure seem to think a lot like it, that a woman's word is so worthless.

Last night Kevin kept bringing the subject of Tim up, seeming to know that it was probably Tim's mistreatment, or my perceived mistreatment, that lead me to be so uncomfortable with males. I don't know how you misunderstand being chocked into unconsciousness, but to each their own judgments I suppose.

It is so messed up, but I with that M had beaten me, or raped me, or something, so that I could just hate him and move on with everything. Instead I get tortured by silence. Emotional abuse is the worst kind that I ever handled, my whole life, that's what has done the most damage. I cannot know that the following is not true, because M is ignoring, but it seems that yes, he wants me out of his completely, he does not want me to exist. He has joined that group of people who were once close to me, but who now would be happier if I was just gone.

It really doesn't help my suicidal thoughts... He's another person weighing on the scale who would benefit if I did kill myself. Besides, I'm a woman, I am damned to hell anyway.

The World Without Us [dual post]

So I often watch documentaries to fill time in my day, often to learn or just be entertained. Sometimes I watch very slanted ones simply for amusement, but today I revisited one that I had watched some time ago called The World Without Us.

Now a lot of the people on Netflix have given it bad reviews, but I am guessing that few of them have taken college level world history classes. So many points in the movie echo true. Many countries depend on U.S. military force occupying them or a near country, yet so often Americans are resented.

There was a woman who was very angry at Clinton over her son’s death at the hand of Serbians. Yet, the entire situation was that Dutch military had come into the area, given over their uniforms and weapons to the genocidal Serbs and stood by as the Serbs used this to trick thousands of people to their deaths with a promise of protection. It seems much more that if the Dutch had not come her son could very well be alive today, yet she is angry at the U.S.

It covered Europe, the Middle East, and Asia, and the hostilities that the USA handles and what might happen if the USA pulled out. You even saw people from countries stating frankly that they depend on America to defend them.

The reason I decided to watch it again was to try to fire up the urge to seek justice for myself and find inspiration for my novel series. The horrible injustices in North Korea and China, nearly the entire Middle East, most of Africa… At the end as the credits rolled, someone from Taiwan said that Americans take their democracy for granted, and it is true. Most of us go about life taking many things for granted, food to eat, a bed to sleep in, and safety. I did for the first seventeen years of my life, but after I was kicked out because my gold-digger step-mom didn’t want me in the picture, I began to learn to appreciate a lot.

I suppose I should perhaps explain that a little more. I have been on my own since shortly after my seventeenth birthday. My mother was advised to abort me before I was born, due to pre-eclampsia, high blood pressure caused from pregnancy. She wound up getting eclampsia and it damaged her kidneys, and she later had full kidney failure. My father on a whim got tested to see if he could donate when I was 6, and he was a near perfect match. He hadn’t been tested previously because the odds of a married couple being a match would be like one in a million. So he gave her a kidney, and she had to be on immunosuppressants to prevent rejection. This essentially made her like people who had AIDS before the 2000’s.

She began to die on a Friday night on February 2, 2001, and died early in the morning on the 3^rd after the life support machines had been removed. She had been in a coma for quite some time. By the next Saturday my father was dating the woman he is now married to.

Manipulative does not even begin to describe Nancy, who is an ex-drug user. She seemed kind to me while my elder sister was in the house. My older sister ran with a bad crowd, did poorly in school, skipped classes, and would argue with my parents constantly, even destroying the last thing that I made with my mom.. Literally tearing it to pieces in her rage, and throwing it at our father and step-mom.

Once my sister turned 18, my father was going to give her a month to move out, but my sister left on her own accord before he had a chance to even tell her. Then suddenly my parents began to have the same “problems” with me. I was not sleeping around with guys, I hadn’t even kissed one! I was getting straight A’s, applying into a gifted program to take college classes in high school. Socially I was involved with church youth group activities.

Many times I was randomly taken to a doctor to have my blood drawn and tested for non existent drugs, that still to this day I have never partaken in, but my father travels to Narcotic Anonymous meetings internationally and claims that I did. I got a part time job once I turned sixteen, saved up and bought a car. Once I was seventeen I had church, job, school, theatre, and I cleaned the entire house and did half of the cooking, although I was not allowed to eat with my parents.

The day I was kicked out my father attacked me, I blacked out for a second and I remember him punching me, I curled up, trying to protect my head, when my step-mother’s sister finally yelled for the both of us to stop it. I was committing a wrong by doing nothing? It was all because I was told to find a second job, and I hadn’t found one yet.

The school program I was in actually told parents to try to keep us students from even getting one job during the school year, the courses were so intense. It had nothing to do with money, as I mentioned he has spoken internationally, my father is well off.

I then learned how much it meant to have a bed, food, shelter, safety, warmth, health, and much more. It was then I decided that I wanted to be able to effect people for the good. In some of the documentaries I hear about people who have escaped from North Korea and they talk about how they only ate rice, and I recall when I would only have a bit of rice as a meal for the day myself. Perhaps that is why I watch so many of those films, even though those countries as a whole are so much worse off, I can sadly relate to many of the people.

Sleeping with several pairs of pants on, sweaters, and a coat, and you are still cold is not fun. You wake up in your bed, under your blanket, you are cold and you see your breath despite being indoors. So when I came to California and I received help from my now-ex boyfriend’s family I was so grateful, to the point that they were often confused. Eating food everyday had become a novelty to me. Then when I began to work, a job that was dollars above the minimum wage, it was even more amazing.

Even now, after I got hurt, although it is difficult to survive off of only food stamps and the generosity of others, food stamps offer more than I ever expected from when after my mother died, until when I moved here. Then when I got hurt and I got state disability, I did not have money for food, ironically I got too much money for food stamps, despite my medical bills leaving only around $20 a month for food. Food stamps now gives me $200 a month for food, and I don’t have medical bills.

What is wrong with our government? People who really need help do not get it, just because of numbers.

Grieving

Written 7/5

So, in his words, I showed up at M’s house uninvited and unannounced. His father seemed rather happy to see me. Something I said while I was off two of my very crucial medications had made him decide that he wanted to erase me from his life.

The jury is still out about the relationship being romantic then not, but one little comment affected him so much, which affected me so much. I lost around 20lbs. from not eating for days. Once his silence began, so did my fasting. Food in my mouth made me feel sick.

I apologized after I said to him, to enjoy his life and check the obits for me, because he was already trying to sever our friendship. I quickly admitted that I was out of line. I can type faster than I can speak, and it was on Skype, so it was a disaster after all.

What shocked me is that he read all of my text messages. He read all of my emails. Yet, even knowing that he was tearing my heart to pieces he just did not reply, as if he had never seen them. Silence can be the most hurtful thing that a person can say to another. I wanted to cry so badly as my roommate drove downtown to work. I held my tears back completely, though.

My so-called best friend claims that in the last weeks I have been horribly depressed. Last Friday I had a blast showing a Japanese man where Anime Jungle was, and having half Japanese half English conversation with him.

I do not really have friends I realize now. I thought I had a few, but I have more just a scattering of people I know who think that they know me, but they apparently do not. My best friend, I am a stranger to him now, because he is so involved with his job and World of Warcraft. I have even spoken with him, but all was on deaf ears, and I had no idea.

That is why losing M’s friendship was devastating to me. I have fallen back into having trouble eating. The idea makes me want to throw up. The mental problems I have, the government thinks that they are severe enough that people can be considered disabled on them, and M thinks that those problems do not affect my mental state when I speak?

I only finally this month got everything in order with my medicine so that perhaps I can begin to try to heal and grow. I applied to Ventura college, albeit an hour away from my house, to take online classes, got accepted, and will retake all my A.P. classes from high school. Ah, won’t that be fun? Retaking everything…

I wonder if I told M what his silence has done to me. I've broken down… I want to cut more if he is not in my life, because then I only have one person who is disapproving of me harming myself. I don’t want to eat. I want to cry all the time. My soul hurts so badly, at a time of elation and joy that I feel almost normal again… well normal for me. I am super weird still. He would call it blackmail or guilt tripping. He said I was guilt tripping in his emails, but I did not mean to, nothing I said in there was my intent to guilt trip. I think he has just gotten so defensive that he cannot see the forest for the trees.

Being alone was the one thing I never wanted in my life. Ever since I was little and left alone a lot because my mom had to have dialysis, I have hated being alone and without friends, etc. Yet, here I stand, alone, save for the few times people recall that cripple girl with the blue hair.

7/7 3AM

One of those few people showed up on Friday evening after I wrote all of that. I also made a new friend, sort of, check my other blog for details on that thing... S.C. I hadn't seen in over a year, it was surprising to see him, and he was surprised to see me in a wheelchair. We soon went over our own health ailments and how they've both unfortunately gotten worse for both of us!

Once my new friend on wheels of his own left, I had a very fun evening. I also am going to do artwork for a friend who wants to begin doing youtube videos, but I shall not reveal my moniker due to privacy I would like to keep for anyone mentioned here... Except for people like how Michael Cera got trolled by a worker, Rudy at the arcade, at the arm wrestling game, by telling him to fight the hardest guy. Nathan, another good worker, also tried to troll some guy on Friday. Jeez, trolls... (I really am not one to speak, I troll on people all the time.)

I came to a strange realization that I had been harboring this little crush for quite some time for S.C. when he gently touched my hand in a comforting manner. I immediately flushed. It took me until around tonight to realize, yeah, a little crush for some time. I spoke to him about it, and he pulled such a girl move. Guys always blame girls for never being direct, and hinting at things, but guys totally do it, too! He was offering up excuses as to why I shouldn't even like him, but not saying anything near 'ah, well, I am flattered, but I don't really feel that way towards you.' When I pointed that out he gave this huge exasperated sigh, and I began to giggle, just amused by him.

If he ever moves back in town, and situations match up, I might get a date. He reminds me a lot of this guy I had a crush on for years back when I was younger, who I scared out of the country. He was ten years my elder, but our moms were best friends. We went to the same schools, and the same church, and when I was a teenager, he was a youth helper. Finally when it was confronted that we both liked one another, he left to Haiti within two months. I never understood what he did.

I was of legal age by that time, and we were both good devout Catholics, there would have been nothing wrong with the situation. Perhaps he was afraid I might have caused him to not be devout? I don't know. Maybe I should email him and see if he ignores it, too, lol. 

Tonight for some reason I really felt an ache for missing M. The grieving has begun. DABDA, I remember it well from when my mother died. I was in a therapy group in my middle school for kids who had bad things going on. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. I sort of went through denial, anger, bargaining, and began feeling depression, but now it feels like I am back to denial. Like I finally finished the funeral, I got my closure. At least I am finally falling out of love with him.

He was not entirely upfront with me when we began to date. I believe he fell in love with a self mutilator he knew online, and one day he stopped hearing from her, so he assumed her dead. He never fell in love with me. I guess he never could. He never counted it because it was online, but it is what ruined what we had together, it was that secrecy that caused me so much heartache and pain.

If I get into a situation where I might date a guy, I try to be frank and upfront about what is wrong with me, I am a sexual abuse survivor, I was raped in past relationships, I was abused in past relationships, and I don't have a close connection with my family. It often turns a guy off, but I can never forget the words of the guy I dated for six and a half years saying that if he had known all of it, he wouldn't have dated me, and he wish I hadn't been raped for how it affected me sexually. Not emotionally, not me, but all for him. So let guys run away, if the guy is still there then I can try.

M was still there, he said he didn't mind.

3 weeks

It's been 3 weeks Friday since M coldly declared he had no feelings for me. I wish I could stop the tears. I wish I could find the strength. The only comfort I find is in the music I listen to and what I write.

It's been 17 days since I have been on my new mental cocktail. I have not felt such mental clarity since I was in high school. When I look back now, my biggest issues were not with myself, they were with or caused by my parents, and they are still my father and my step-mother and the people that they choose to be. 

How badly I want to just see M tonight. I wish he would just come, change his mind, take me back. I suppose it was not one of those situations of what was it that I did wrong, if he just decided he didn't like me. I feel very used, but it doesn't rid the deep attachment I wish that I didn't have.

When you don't have family that cares about you, or many friends, and then you fall in love, I suppose that it can only be natural to be so crushed if you are later rebuked after being used. Used and thrown away again. That seems to be my biggest ambition in life, I am around for guys to use and throw away once they are done, this was just the first time I wanted it. The way that he is behaving now is showing how grossly immature he is, refusing to return calls, emails, texts, or messages. I finally went and sent him a letter. I honestly do not expect him to read it.

All those unread words....

How many I wonder, are there?

Not even including all the unspoken and unwritten words in my heart, the words burning my soul, the unread words weighing me down as I try to move forward. I just want to move forward, but I cannot grieve without seeing the corpse. He said that he wanted back 2 of his shirts... 1 he specifically said I could have, as in have, gift, the other I would return. I had been wearing it around for days, smelling it, complaining that it had been at the bottom of his drawer too long and it smelled like plywood.

I have never felt this sort of happiness that is sort of just is welling from my soul, and yet this sorrow that is bleeding my happiness dry. It is like a vicious cycle, well it is a vicious cycle.

I still have the anxiety attacks, I mean, hell I can't fall asleep until 5AM still because of the crazy girl from Hillmont! I am still cutting impulsively... But overall I would say the happiness of my life has gone up. Why do things have to end up the way that they do?

Is M happy alone? Is he much happier without any communication from me in his life? Does M enjoy life much more just not thinking about me at all? Is that what it is? He just is trying to forget about me?

Our past forms us into what and who we are today, for better or worse, is what I believe. That is how my mother saw it. I take her stance on this. 

But if he didn't have any feelings for me, why was this purge even needed?! I don't get it. It seems redundant. If you don't give a shit about something anymore, why would you need to forget about it?

7/3 Mom would be 56, 7/4 at home

So yesterday was my deceased mother's birthday. She would have turned 56. She passed away 2/3/2001, when I was 12. It was the only day that my friend/roommate could take me to Ventura city to take of some errands.

On the 2cd he walked in on me while I was on the phone with a patient's rights representative and how I was explaining in detail exactly how one of the nurses had assaulted me sexually while I was kept overnight in the ER, in isolation, for a post-surgical infection. What was supposed to be a pelvic exam turned into tearing and bruising my vaginal area badly. The object used was covered in bright red blood.

I don't know why I wiped my tears away when the next nurse returned to do an ultrasound. I felt ashamed that I had been assaulted again.

So on the 3rd, yesterday, I went to Hillmont, or more Hellmont, to speak to someone about my severe grievances that I had about my stay. The emotional, mental, and physical abuse I suffered.

I walked into the front of the building, and I was a bit bewildered, I had only been on the backside of it mostly, so it was odd, and a kind man asked if I needed help. I explained I needed to speak to someone high up about the atrocious treatment that I had received while I had been there, and Dr. Fire replied that he was the man for that.

He was new in overseeing Hillmont, but he was already well aware that it was not a patient-oriented place, which is very bad for a place that is for suicidal and depressed people. Once he realized how much detail I had of the sheer amount of bad treatment he took detailed notes.

Alicia, an actual nurse, I have no idea how on earth she passed her board exams, was one of the worst perpetrators. The woman tried taking my blood pressure on my right arm 5 times, with me standing, my arm just hanging at my side, and when the machine didn't work, no surprise to me, she screamed at me to stop moving or I wouldn't get my medication, as if I were trying to act out. I just kept calmly replying, in a normal adult voice, that I was doing my best to not move. Finally she tried it on my left arm and it took it. I thought she was only a nursing assistant, but since she gave me medication, she had to have been a nurse, Dr. Fire said. Proper way to take a blood pressure, sit patient down, elevate arm to around arm level, then take the blood pressure, and don't scream at them.

She was a horrible c***. At anytime she could find some reason to yell at me, she would. Like when I was walking too slowly with my walker. I was only 2 weeks out from spinal surgery, which was on their computer filing system because they are part of VCMC, where I had the surgery! I mean, even a person who is uneducated in medication might think someone who had spinal surgery might not be able to walk fast all over the place!

It was after M broke up with me, simply saying he had no more feelings for me. Then my roommate and best friend wouldn't speak with me. I called every person in my contact list, no one answered. Then I called the crisis hotline, and they decided to commit me.

Hellmont made me more suicidal and more depressed than I was before I was admitted. My pain levels were off the scale. Sometime on Sunday 6/16 I was dismissed to my room and collapsed in pain, as I felt a bubbling in my spine and I screamed. Alicia began to yell at me to get off the floor and get into my room. I couldn't move for a while and her and another nurse were yelling at me and tried to get me up, causing me more pain. I suddenly felt that we have two nerves the run right down the back of our legs. I gasped and asked if we had two nerves that ran down that way, and they said, yeah, why? Because I can feel them now.

I kept telling the staff that they needed to contact my back surgeon, who is also a specialist in orthopedics and neurology, and they said that they would. So when on Tuesday I was frisked away for an x-ray I was a bit bewildered at the idea of walking all the way to the radiology department (like maybe 3-4 city blocks thru the hospital), but I was worried about this strange new pain. As I walked into the x-ray room, the man asked if I had ever had a chest x-ray before, and I was like, uh I just had one done like a week ago because I had a mystery sickness.

The nurse had taken the wrong person. Someone else with my name... She hadn't asked for my last name, checked my arm band, birthday, nothing. Thankfully I got wheeled back, and I got the wheelchair for a couple hours, of which Alicia kept yelling at me not to let other push me because they would hurt their backs.

A freaking device designed for someone to sit in and be pushed... no one is going to hurt their freaking back! Not even me probably! But people kept doing it without me asking, and I would get her fury. If she keeps working there, one day some patient is probably going to go attack her or something.

Many of the other staff members thought I was faking my back pain. Anyone who said something to my face, I explained that I had had surgery shy of 10 days previously, and they could even go look in their computer system to see it. My whole stay I had no pain management either.

Now, there came to be a crazy ass chick called 'Mary Jane' for some reason, although that was NOT her legal name posted up that I saw, so I will go ahead and use it freely, also because she is an insane criminal.

She spoke no English, and soon we, the patients on the ward, began to realize she was stealing shit.

Her room was right beside mine, which I shared with another girl. She asked me at lunch on Monday if I had moved her pants, seen them, etc. I said no, and asked her why, and she explained that she couldn't find them. I believed that perhaps someone had indeed taken them, and I was already thinking, wtf....

Later after dinner when we went to our room it was very obvious someone had been there and taken things, 4 of my panties were missing, 2 shirts, a sports bra, and more of my roommate's items. 

Someone spotted the girl walking into her room, which was adjacent to us, carrying an item of her own, and it caused a loud stir, and she was locked in 'solitary' for a couple, yes couple, hours. Meanwhile my roommate spotted her sweater, and I saw some of my panties. And as they corralled the crazy young kleptomaniac I saw her wearing my sports bra and I told the.... Alicia ugh, who said it was too small for me... It freaking stretches you idiot.

Then another crazy young Filipino girl came in and she was wearing my shirt. I complained to Mario, a staff member who got it stuck in his head that because I have some college education I think that I am better than others, and he told me that I can't make accusations like that. Then she showed me the detail of the shirt, that she had a sweater covering, and I went over to him and explained, she just showed me the picture on the shirt, it's the Tomb Raider shirt I bought at Game Dude that went missing from my room.

She wound up taking the shirt off, and she was braless, in the hallway. So yeah, I got that shirt back, and some of my panties. Unfortunately my panties went missing again, along with a folder with self-help information, and a few toiletry items. Ms. Klepto had the panties in her room, and was no longer wearing my bra, so I was able to retrieve it. My panties and hoodie were soaking wet for some reason. I was freezing, but my roommate lent me her sweater, she was so kind.

So by the time Wednesday came I was carrying all my possessions around with me, where ever I would go. My roommate came to visit me and he was alarmed at the horrible care and the fact they kept letting the klepto back out into the halls of the unlocked rooms. On Thursday, my final day, I awoke to that crazy bitch studying my panties above my face, I freaked out.

"Okay, you're not getting out of it this time bitch!" I screamed, leaping to the door, ignoring the pain, leaning against it, she was hitting me and screaming in Spanish. Soon staff came, and I was like, here is proof she is stealing my things, she is in my room my panties in her fucking hands.

But she did more than that. She stole a dress, notebook, book, and my glasses that day. I have contacts to wear, and a back-up pair of glasses with the prescription a bit off, but they are so heavy they leave markings on my nose. She tore the cover off the book... the book the M bought me... No amount of money can replace that.

Ever since I left, even with a heavy prescription sleep aid and with OTC aids together I can't sleep until 5 or 6 AM I was so traumatized. 

Getting to know that patients in the future will not have to suffer such horrible things in the future hopefully is something that my mother would be proud of me for fighting for. Dr. Fire, the one who took my complaints, he said I was courageous, that for me being here there are probably 20 others who are not speaking up.

Now on the fourth I am suffering more emotionally from other things. Severe radiculopathy, pain radiating down the limbs, and I am afraid that I am on the edge of incontinence, so such a severe brink that I won't leave the house, I have to be near the bathroom. I hate it.

As I was finishing this, I just found out that M contacted my roommate about items that he wanted returned that I had, a week ago. A full week. I have been worrying if perhaps if M was even doing okay, and here I find out that he is fine and dandy, but my so-called best friend merely forgot to deliver crushing news that I need to try to deal with ASAP tonight, because tomorrow is Friday! Friday is the day that he would probably come to get his things.

It just makes me want to lie, say, Cali sucks, screw all this, and hop on a bus, get off and OD somewhere out of the state line. No one really remembers me too much these days. People who often can't walk are depressing to be around.

So I am a self-mutilator, too... I did a number to myself last week, and it's not healing. I'm not sure if I should go to the doctor or not. It seems like it might be mildly infected. Heh mildly, I've been doing this for far too long. I have my step-mother to thank for that. It was because I didn't have any alcohol on hand to sterilize the razor or my skin I bet.

My step-mother said I was not harming myself right, hitting myself leaving bruises, scratching myself where it would scab later, she then showed me how to do it 'right', and did it to her arm. It bled and I could only think in my head, wow that is so unsanitary. So I began using razors and scissors that I would sterilize.

So once M broke up with me, he's been playing this ignoring me game.

Silence can be one of the most painful things that you can hear.

Nothing can be one of the most painful things that can be done.

Obsession

M is in my head, and I can't get him out. I take a strong sleeping medication that often causes me to sleep through up to fifteen alarms on my phone, alarm clocks (yes plural), and people trying to wake me, I will lie to them in my sleep. Yet it is approaching 5 AM and I can't stop thinking about him.

I often keep telling myself, it's not like it was my first time, but it is sort of like telling someone who has tried to learn to swim and nearly drown, it's not like they've not swam before. It was my first consensual act, one of my pysch professionals said essentially it was like I lost my virginity to him.

So is this why people write all these sappy songs about break-ups and such? I never realized the act could be intimate, and not painful. Special, close, instead of scary and forceful.

M... I listen to too much Ayumi Hamasaki, that is the name of my favorite song, about someone that she should love.

Now I have seen more of the spectrum of the world, from childhood molestation abated by candy, to finding love and making the act of it. I will try to sleep again, but he is still in my head. M, "for everyone who has been hurt" from her song, yes... M is a great song. 

Pains of the mind, body, and spirit.

As I began a blog chronicling my life struggling with being "slightly disabled" I realized that writing out the problems and issues I feel and that I am struggling with makes me feel limited there. I want to empower people with that blog, here, this shall be more personal.

It is amazing what can happen in 3 months.

I am probably a fool.

I am a survivor of sexual abuse as a child, and rape and assault as a young adult and as an adult. I had my second boyfriend when I turned 18, and I thought he was nice because he would purchase me things every now and then, and not beat the shit out of me. All I had to do was not speak to anyone for too long, and submit to him.

When he found out that my back was not going to get better, see my other blog, in January, he broke up with me. But... in February a friend became more than just that. For 3 months I was happy. And for the first time in my life I gave what I had never given to a guy before, and now I regret it. Suddenly things went from wonderful to horrible. He has been ignoring me for over 2 weeks now.

I was still reeling from being assaulted by a woman at the hospital at the time he broke up with me. It was only today that I finally told someone about the assault.

He said that we could be friends. I was happy to see him on the day that was near marking 3 months, but I had been slightly off, not being on some of my medication I wasn't really myself. When he said that we needed to talk I consented, and he took me outside. I was freezing for an hour as I listened to the things that I was doing wrong, and what I needed to change. Then suddenly he just said he didn't have any romantic feelings for me anymore.

He seemed to have had them earlier in the day on the phone. I was baffled as to what was going on, but his mind was firmly made up, and he didn't really want to speak to me any longer, despite the fact he had done most of the speaking. It broke my heart. Then when my best friend, who is also my roommate, found out, he began to stop talking to me. I would begin to say something only to be stopped with a, "No!"

I called everyone in my cell phone contact list that I could, that might help me, and no one answered... So as I scrolled back up I saw CRISIS, the crisis team hotline. I called, we spoke, and they came out to see me and decided that I needed to be put on a suicidal hold. I had been raped by a woman, just like I had when I was a child, my boyfriend that I gave my real virginity to broke up with me, and my best friend hated me and I had no idea why. I was going to take an entire bottle of pills that I will not name because I do not want anyone who reads this to know it would be deadly.

Little did I know the Hillmont, which is sort of part of the VCMC, where the nurse assaulted me, was only going to push me further to the brink of suicidal thoughts and depression. Hellmont. I quickly fell into a bad habit of starving myself because the food was so terrible. They would say no sharing or trading of food, but occasionally I would give my food away or trade for milk, or one of the few edible items, like the freakin cornbread... that was good.

What got to me the most was on the car ride to the facility, someone did return my call. The boy who broke my heart. Now he won't speak to me, or even email or Skype me. I always said that I deserved such a fate because this is what I seem to do to nearly every guy I meet.

They fall for me, while I have no feelings for them, and I try to politely be their friend.
It damages everything of the psyche as they fall deeper for me in the end.
So when everything comes to a head,
I always want to end up dead,
But they're the one who cries instead.

I suppose it was time that I go off medication have crazy episodes listed on the side of my other blog, and lose someone that I fell in love with. It's only fair, right?