WARNING AT BOTTOM OF PAGE

This is a mental health/mental illness blog dealing with daily life with words that are real and raw, video, pics, and music chosen by one fucked-up kitty. I am diagnosed Bipolar, with (crippling) Anxiety Disorder, and seriously horrific PTSD.
Sometimes it's a real treat of Freedom of Speech and Crazy to let it out, and scream something out in public when you just lose it, and let the stress out of your sails in one quick go, unlike the "unlucky" majority. Nope. Can't say everything is bad 100% of the time. Now take your meds and get ready...



This blog is permanently under construction/destruction.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Ticking Timebomb



Motherfucking FUCK! My sweet dark morning was almost ruined by the late rent notice that was halfway tucked under the door that I found this morning, just as I was about to sneak out. I immediately thought - Great. More motherfuckin mail stolen - bills that have fucking checks in them!!! I let it fall from my hand and walk out so I could have a smoke asap. I wasn't medicated yet. I sucked my coffee down pretty fast while I was out, but it seemed the sun was coming after me even earlier than the last time I went out. I was in a rush to try to deal with the fucking mail problem. 

I decided that I would blame it on the mailman/post office workers. No one has the key to the outgoing mailbox but the mailman and the owner. I sent 3 different but similar complaints of stolen mail to USPS  online. I called my bank asked how much it would cost to put a stop payment on a check. They said $34 each. I said "Are you fucking serious? That is TERRIBLE service! FUCK THAT!" and hung up. I had to take 200mgs of seroquel and had about 4mgs clonazepam already, my total dose. I have 400mg seroquel left for tonight. I sure as fuck was feeling suicidal/homicidal.

I checked my bank account online again, and there hadn't been any checks cashed lately. Then I remembered that I sent a check to the IRS with my return. So I called them and was passed around and around and hung up. Then I tried chatting online to one of their CS people. They didn't have access to IRS information. It was back to calling again, and I must have waited about 40 mins on hold before I got a good lady on the other end who understood my freakout, and I told her thank you and to have a good day in the end. You know she deserved it, working that job! I was as nice as I could be to her because CS is one bitch of a job, and you end up with crazy angry people like me sometimes. My seroquel had kicked in by then.

So my rent, return check, and a couple of bills are still floating around out there, or something evil. I'm betting on something evil. Motherfuckers, now I can't mail shit from my own fucking building, and will have to start paying more bills online or by phone, which I hate, because I don't like my information out there. I'll be checking my bank account a few times a day to see what the hell is up, and waiting for a quick follow up from USPS. This shit is bad. Hopefully it was destroyed like one report I'd heard of way back when in the news where a postal worker just buried the mail and didn't deliver. Better than being in more evil hands.

Whew! Am I relieved that the spouse has decided to pick himself up, clean up a bit (still needs a haircut), dust himself off, and make phone calls to connections he's made through his previous employer. He ended up getting a call yesterday, an interview, AND a job today. He'll have the rest of the week to prepare himself mentally and sleep-wise. I'll be getting up earlier with him, which will help both of us. I get more time in the dark outside, and I make better coffee and he likes that. Plus we can spend some time in the morning together, which he likes when he's working.

As far as the crap on my timeline (is that what it's called?) I need to follow more folks with the good stuff to outweigh the garbage. If I want to see porn, I'll do it on my own time. Alone. Gay porn. Hahaha!!!

Somehow using the word "patriot" in a description of me doesn't feel right deep down in my bones, when my ancestors roamed  here long before the nearly canonized "founding fathers". Some of those "founding fathers" owned bought or stolen people as property they called and made their slaves. Nah, I don't fucking dig that, admire that, or let that slide just because others were doing it. 

Propaganda from all sides is being thrown at us through various sources. We have no privacy. I wasn't wrong about being spied on when I was manic, paranoid, and sent to the psych hospital. We have little hope. It feels like we're living in a police state. We don't know what poisons we are eating and drinking. It goes on and on. 

The media here is censored and biased, so we don't get real world news, or see all the uprisings, strikes, crime, or anything going on in other countries. We only see the poverty when it's packaged in a neat little commercial with footage of a few children living in poverty, and an aid organization asking for money. The media are terrorists and they are terrorizing the public. Some really bad cops are terrorizing the public, and therefore terrorist too.  

I won't fight for a government that's bought by the insanely rich, who basically want to kill the poor. I don't want to fight anybody. I'm not going to kill anybody. I will only try to protect my closest people. Yep, others will judge, so I guess it doesn't really matter until the shit hits the fan. 




I won't put on a uniform and be told what to do, even if it's at the Dairy Queen. Mommy never put up with that shit as as a teenager, and she won't start now. Nobody but the voice(s) in my head tell me what to do or not do.

Call me stupid, ignorant, and naive. I want peace, love, and equality. Happiness couldn't hurt.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock...

And now for something completely different...

Article of the day at The Free Dictionary:  Loch Ness Monster


Sasquatch and friend