Nein, Doktor! Nein!

 And fucking blogger isn't cooperating. I don't have the patience to fix this. I have

tried 3 times already and everything looks normal from this end.

As usual, it's taken me forever to get back up on the horse and ride. Write. Whatever. The

last thing I've been working on (and still am) is restoring my computer and trying to find an

antivirus program other than the free norton one that is offered free with $hitcast, so that

they know everything you do. The other problem with that is that after some research into

some files that were installed after I deleted all my stuff, and allowed (mistake!) the

spouse to "restore to factory settings" or some shit, I found that M$ plants trackers in your

computer to log and monitor any use of tor browser! I've been accused by the spouse of being

"too paranoid", But I wanted to drop $hitcast's "free" norton because they dig into

everything you own, everywhere you ever go, or what ever you even touch. Some pretty nasty

stuff.

I like my privacy. I would like to be able to turn on my computer and use it without

thinking, even that the internet is turned off, reports on every single key I hit are being

compiled, readied for transmission to the Computer Overlords, especially when you use tor

browser. Some reports are sent to an email address there as well as a prestigous "ivy league"

school. Some are encryped with some plain old english sprinkled in, some are directed to

write in python, which I believe you can learn off a famous school's website for free, to ID

the software user, and basically spy on them for no good goddamned reason. I never gave my

permission for that, nor did I see any mention of tor browser in any "user agreement" you

FUCKERS. Also, they infect your computer with google shit, so I would scour your computer for

that shit if you don't want that either.

Since my memory is shit, and I wiped so many programs, shortcuts, files and docs I had on the

desktop, it looks naked now, and I'm afraid that if I do remember what is missing, that I

won't be able to install it, and have a fear of downloading it, especially without any kind

of antivirus program. I sure as hell don't want to ask for help in doing these things because

he already fucked up my reset by not even asking me my preferences, just wanted to act like

he knew what he was doing.

Another reason why I don't like asking for help...

Bad news... my shrink suddenly came down with cancer and left for a really unspecified amount

of time... So far I've had to see Dr Nazi, who treated me like a common criminal that just

crawled out of the gutter, and made me take an alcohol/drug test just to get a refill on my

clonazepam for my fucking anxiety, that I have been taking for AT LEAST 10 YEARS, and have

not abused, but FUCKING NEEDED! DU SCHWEINHUND DUMKOPF DUMBFUCK IGNORANT SHITBAG! Take a course on psychompharmacology, you stupid cunt! I am not a drug or alcohol abuser, nor am I am idiot, fucking condescending Nazi cunt! I did not just crawl out of the fucking gutter with a needle in one arm, a cig in one hand, and a vodka martini in the other, dickhead!

I'm lost without my old shrink for meds for a while, and I feel so terrible for this man

that's been so good to me, so respectful, and trusting. A world-class dude. He would not give

up on me after all this time! The clock is ticking for me to find another shrink for the same

purposes that either knows him, that he has recommmended, that I can afford, that I can get

to easily, that won't talk down to me, that will keep me on the same meds, as they seem to be

working very well as appetite suppressants! Also, keeping the mood swinging down, the anger

and rage I used to feel is totally gone, at ALL times of the month. The only thing I notice

is I get a little weepy for a second or two at that time of the month. I did cry about my Dr's situation, because I honestly care for that man.

I get irritable, but not as bad as before at all. Things have just changed. I still have had

no anxiety attacks, except, I have noticed I am more anxious in the car than I used to be. The

sun has kept me inside, however, and by order of spouse, the death threat from the suspected

neighborhood drug dealer has kept me out of the garage under the building. So no trash or

recycling for me. Also not a good idea to be around in the side/entry of the building, with

the amount of non-fans I have who might want to pick a fight with me. And they are guys. I'm not afraid of those cunts. My old man was bigger, heavier, and louder than them. But we won't go there right now...

Fuck $tarschmucks, their fake fucking bullshit, their fake fucking Starbuckspeak. I do not

want to support that shit anymore, even if I have to suffer to go somewhere else. I want a

real fucking cup of coffee, not some overpriced frou frou shit with some stupidass name that

some fatcats sat at a table thought up, laughed about, and decided to inflict upon americans,

after creating and inflicting the english-american language Starbuckspeak upon the people.

And thou shalt learn it fluently, lest their "barista" bitches (male and female) shit their

pants should someone dare or or err in their order of something in non-Starbusckspeak! They

just may write up about you, calling you an "idiot" or worse, and write about their side of

the story in a site on Livejournal. Yes, that's what I have heard, or read, at least. I'll

use the place as a public toilet if I need to, and nothing more. There's gotta be other

places, like one hidden in the alley that's got plain old drip coffee like normal people used

to drink back in the day, wifi, and maybe an outlet or two? Back in the day where people when

to coffee shops to drink as much coffee as possible, smoke, and talk to each other, not play

with their fucking phones... If not, maybe one a short trip away. Where there are students,

there are coffee shops and wifi. My only problem is getting out of this cage, the sun, the

heat, water, and being able to find a decent toilet. I... GOT... TO... GET... THE... FUCK...

OUT... OF... HERE...

Usually, I tend to write more when I'm feeling shitty, I know it. But it's been too long and

all sorts has gone on. The best thing is my girl's in town, and I've been sort of rebuilding

a friendship online with another person that's suffering from physical and some psych shit,

poor thing, but she lives in the suburbs, unfortunately. She's having an impossible time

getting out on her own too. I'm going to try and make an attempt to meet up with her at some

point. I'm also hoping to stay with my girl for a few days and just be silly and forget about

everything for a while. Also get a break from the spouse taking all his shit out on me and

not owning up to it. I've had more than enough of it. I need to get away from him, and I'm

sure he'd be more than happy to drive me away from here so he could have time alone to

himself to do fuck all, as usual.

Next morning, I'm up at 5, it's dark, and I see the big, beautiful moon through the shades.

I'm exhausted, and all of a sudden my parade gets shit on by a combination of spousal non-

morning attitude and my own anxiety at the thought of puttinig on some clothes, and forcing

myself outside. Not just outside, but getting ready to go outside, and by that time, it will

be light. I'd have to take the bus, beg the driver for a discounted rate because my pass

expired, then take a ride downtown, getting off in the middle of real PEOPLE and what seems

like CHAOS! Fuck...

I felt so shitty, ashamed, down, like a fucking failure, an idiot, loser fucking ape on prescription meds that can't fucking leave this fucking place. I felt like throwing up and my head hurt, so I took a chance and took the aspirin. There wasn't going to be any treadmill for me.

Time just flew by as I had "Supernatural" going on in the background, and I just blew the whole day, and it turned my stomach so badly. I didn't want to think and so I lost myself literally by digging in the trash on the computer. Files that were supposed to be deleted from the browser, from the bin, from the "cleaner" app that I downloaded free years ago, and kept up to date. Yet I found this shit still hiding away in the computer. It even seemed m$n had even developed little profiles and all sorts of programs and commands to work around yours that get into anything and everthing that you have, where you go, what you do, proxy or not, and they save this shit. I noticed that tor browser and keeping an eye on your uploads and download times as well as scanning what you downloaded for every identifiable mark, code, number, crack, cert, note, you name it, and they are in cahoots with google, so you know I wiped those fuckers out of my computer as far as I could tell, but I will keep checking, and checking on some other bothersome shit. I don't know how I manage to spend so much time like that without going crazy or getting bored like ordinary people would. I guess because it's a big puzzle that will certainly never be solved by the likes of a self-declared technophobe like me. I felt especially sick when I came across this comment made in a document, "BA What are the odds that some idiot will name his mutex ether-rot-mutex!" Today, I officially name my "mutex" Ether-Rot-Mutex! Whateverthefuck.

I know I shouldn't be so down on myself for not making such a HUGE move today, and on a hot one, too, where I'd actually have to carry around water. That's one of those odd things that irritates me about people. I don't know why. I can at least feel a sense of relief that there were no new bills in the mail, but that I won't have the convenience of paying them online until I get a decent antivirus program, although I'm not totally sure wny when I'm already being spied upon by m$n, comca$t, google, and whoever manages to track me that I haven't blocked out. Plus the NSA, maybe the CIA and FBI too.

I hope the weather takes a terrible turn tomorrow, and there are thunderstorms with lightening and pouring rain! That way, I may actually want to get outside, and it may even get the spouse off of work for a bit, and he could come and get me, and take me down to get another bus pass. The more rain out, the less tourists and shit, less people on the buses. I'm telling myself anything I fucking can to ease the anxiety, talk it right the fuck out of my head. Do a rain dance, dreaming in my sleep. Pray to the Great Spirit for my baby, some loved ones, children who suffer, women who suffer, people dying over controlling people, land, stupid old religions, old grudges, money, and oil.

I'm almost glad now that I don't have access to the real news online, it's been making me insane enough on the morning fuckin tv - yelling at it and wanting to pull my hair out. I can't stand it. I'm "forced" to at least hear the tv news in the morning when I'm up at the same time as the spouse. He gets his news online. 

And now I finally shower and go to bed to lie in front of that fan in my underwear... Hopefully to be wakened by alarms and storms.

In Dreams

                                                               I used to wear blue velvet...

Wow. Get some beer, some time away from me, a chat with someone else, and you've got a changed man.

My spouse came back from his lunch date a little buzzed, but seemed happy to see me. He also apologized for treating me so mean the past couple of days, and that money is just money. And that there will never be another me. He said he didn't care about all that tax crap. He hugged me for a long time. It all made me cry and apologize again for fucking up. We exchanged the "I love you"s, of course. We stood there in the kitchen, locked together for a long time. Later on he went and had a nap.

I went back to my computer and tea.

Now in the sober light of day, I find it hard to trust what he said, of course.

1. I have MH issues
2. He hasn't always been truthful for too long (he's been flakey)
3. He had been drinking a bit
4. He has diagnosed and (IMO) undiagnosed MH issues: Depression is his diagnosis at present

So I'm left with the prepared tax forms just sitting on the coffee table in plain sight. They just need his signature. My signature is on the form. I already have a stamped and addressed envelope ready for it. Now how do I get him to actually sign the forms? I need to make copies or scan the crap at least. That would bring attention to the forms. I'm worried as to whether that would be a bad or "good" move.

I just want to get the shit out of here and not think about it anymore! I don't know if I can deal with it tonight, but the sooner, the better, as he seems to be in a better mood in the daylight, and he just got back from the unemployment office. Not a good time. He's already changed into his PJs and it's not even 3pm.

Oh, looks like he's going for another nap. Oh. Oh well.

Let's get some shit straight here. I wake up a bunch of times during the night, sometimes sweating, sometimes freezing from sweating, but mostly for no reason, then I get up at the time I set my alarm for which is 6am now. My spouse gets up maybe an hour after that, lately a little bit longer. He takes forever to "wake up" after he's up. He says an hour. Me, I'm wide awake each time I wake. Anyway, he takes naps. Sometimes two during the day. One after the coffee is finished, and then another in the late afternoon. It kind of disgusts me, but that's because I wasn't raised to do that, and it stuck.

Back again...

The spouse is up. Fuck. He's up again and just set down a glass of water next to the forms that are waiting for his signature, with a pen just above them on the coffee table... Clearly, he's ignoring them. Now he's off washing dishes in a very noisy way, suggesting that he's irritated by "having to do it". I said I would do it, I just didn't give an exact time of day/eve. I didn't want to put pressure on myself. Riding the bus alone to the shrink's and surviving an hour of that was stressful and emotionally exhausting enough today. Give me a fuckin' break.

Yeah, I mentioned to the shrink that he likes to play passive-aggressive games if he feels like he's not in control of the world, and he probably doesn't since he's not working right now. I don't like to participate. He's pretty much just stuck here with me, and doesn't seem to want to do anything. Not even going for a walk. That fucking sucks.

I'll have to try try try to venture out alone tomorrow, if it's now raining too badly. I'm going to have to get up earlier as the sun is coming out earlier and ruining my moonlit mornings. I'll try for 5am tomorrow, and spend a little time alone away from home. Either in the coffee shop or outside, smoking. Yeah, early to bed and early to rise and get the fuck out of here and get coffee and a cigarette. I can't possibly go out in the morning light.

I was fucking livid when I got home from my shrink appointment today and found all the blinds pulled open. He knows I hate outdoor light coming indoors. I still had my sunglasses left on, so I kept them on for quite a while, until I sensed that the spouse wouldn't have a cow if I shut half of them, and he was out of the room.

5-8pm nothing but tired cartoons here.

I'm tired and writing on "Notepad" while "The Devil's Waltz" plays online in the background. A re-run, I know. I need to be carried away from the reality of this place and this tired situation.

I just want to go to sleep, a heavy sleep, with heavy, vivid dreams that take me far away from here to another time and place. I travel alone in my dreams. Rarely do I ever have known persons in my dreams. I do have known places. Not real places, but real dream places that I've been back to several times. I never dream about my spouse. In my dreams, I am able to drive, but not in real life. PTSD. Motorcycles too, which I enjoy riding on (passenger only) in real life. I miss that. I miss having more of a life.

Chicken Run to Hell

Fuck! I had a food binge, and my spouse certainly was no help in that situation. We went on a fried chicken run to the grocery store, so we could make it back before "True Blood". When we came back, I realized that I had eaten 2 yogurts and 2 tortillas, and gawd knows what else already. I wasn't even hungry, I was just craving that salty, crunchy, greasy shit. I feel stuffed, fat, and fucking disgusting. The "good" thing about it is that I didn't think much about the way I was dressed or how I looked, threw on some sunglasses and thongs, and got in the car. I feel so dirty, like I should take a shower.

While I was waiting for the spouse to get cash out of the bank, I sat in the car waiting, smoking a cigarette. People were walking past, and on two different occasions, they were acting all obnoxious walking up and down the street, purposefully getting to close to the car. My window was stuck at half-open. I felt a potential threat from a pair that passed, stared them right down and thought if I only had a gun in my purse, and they came nearer to the car, I would point it in their fucking direction. I do NOT want people fucking with me in the street. I swear, I am a total freak magnet when it comes to just walking down the fucking street, hell, or even being out in public. There have been far too many incidents, and I just try to mind my own damn business.This is not the source of my anxiety, however, about getting outside by myself. I can't say what is, but whatever it is, it's still there. 

What's worse than all that is that I felt nauseous all morning and lay on the couch listening to more of a recorded book. I played a stupid simple computer  game at the same time, for the most part, which was since after having coffee finished around 6. Fucking sat there for HOURS. I was pissed that I woke up so early, but I keep doing it and checking to see if my spouse is gone. I don't know why. I don't feel like I can totally relax. I couldn't really pay attention to the game or the book today, then when my show came on tv this evening, I couldn't pay close attention to that either. I split my attention between the stupid game again and the tv show. I kind of figured I'd wake up later tomorrow, feeling better, and alone to enjoy my quiet morning, and re-watch the show... Fuck reality.