Well, if you won’t, I will.

So, yesterday I spewed my frustration about the spa.  I filed a recipient rights complaint.  Over the voice mail.  Today, it’s on my list of things to do.  My therapist couldn’t even fit me in yesterday  and I missed her call. I can’t hold all this in.  It’s too much.  I cannot put it here.  I don’t want to trigger or give anyone ideas about what they can do to another person.   But, I don’t know what to do.  I slept for 16 hours yesterday afternoon til 4:00 am this morning.  That’s escapism.  No doubt.  Today I’m gonna make a ghetto scene if I don’t get someone to listen to me and a slot with Doc Ross.  I’m a Mess to quote Ed Sheeran.  I feel like shit.

IDK.  I just feel really hopeless right now.  I feel like I have no one to talk to.  Even my professionals have let me down and they know what a huge deal this is.  It’s frustrating and they’ve got to know that.  One can only handle so much human sacrifice, blood, gore, guts, and sexual assault for so long.  I was a “Bride of Satan”, for chrissakes!  At age 4?  Hello?!  That’s a whole lotta fucked up.  What do I have to do??  Drink?

Had a dream about that last night.  Not drinking, but a person I had a misunderstanding with in the program.  I miss her.  But it’s too late.  It’s been too long.  Besides, I don’t show my face at all the hot spots, they naturally assume I’m out drinking.  Alcoholism is a progressive disease. I left off at Death.  Only the grace of God and Dave (Smith- The AIDS KIller) not wanting to be discovered, was what saved me.  I got sober then, August 15, 2008.  If I were to drink, I’d be dead within 24 hours.  I know what I and my system are capable of.

Speaking of my system, I saw the twins.  One of them, anyway.  I was down to seven- Phylis, thee executive; Matthew, Protector, Sheila and her subsystem; Vicky and her part, Veronica; and then the twins.  They are my self-injurers.  I have never been a self injurer, never.  I have five tats, but no cutting, burning, branding et al.  I made them promise when I was in the hospital, that if they didn’t hurt me, I would turn my upper right arm, and ultimately my right arm into a sleeve.  So I touched base with my tattoo artist.  But I don’t know.  That’s money I don’t have right now.  But I’m working on it.

Fuck, I’m working on everything.  I was in the hospital counseling my friend- who is only my friend when he doesn’t have a girlfriend, and believe you me, that hurts and is not okay.  And yes, I gently broached the subject with him.  But, right now, I need a friend.  “s”.

I’m terribly lonely.  The prospects are nil.  And I am not nearly cohesive enough to be in a relationship.  I can’t even be a FB with anybody because of my HIV.  People have such a bias against…me.  I’m like every ism you can think of- mental illness, HIV, recovering alcoholic/addict, Arabic, Roma, tattooed, single, over forty with cat.  Never married, no children.  Jesus.  I’m the poster child for hate.  Or, is that how I see myself?  I don’t know.  I just feel when I hold the crap in too long, I feel like an alien.  SRA is so lonely.  It’s unbelieveable.  DID is unbeliveable enough on it’s own face value, but when you thrown Satanism in there- you really feel like an enigma. Maybe that is what I am, an enigma.

I know I cannot spell to save my life ever since a few years ago.  I can’t do a lot of things.  It’s fucking freezing out. I know that.  I better be able to get some of this stuff off my chest today or I’m going to explode.  It’s almost 6 am.  Guess I better start my day.  Whatever that means.

I missed Partial yesterday and wound up sleeping 16 hours.  I have a feeling this is the only zen I’m going to find all day.  Yucky.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Well, if you won’t, I will.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s