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

Bad Moon Rising

Fuck. I made a rather bold move this morning after coffee pot was emptied. I figured it would be safest then. I went to the bedroom, where the spouse had already disappeared, to talk about all the shit that's going down here, and how I want to try to fix it, how I would like for there to be some happiness around here. I get more of what I got yesterday morning: accusation after accusation. I even asked for the tax crap, to take it back and go over it again and see what I can do. All the spouse could say about that was that he basically couldn't believe that I was such a forgetful fuck-up, and I got the sense that he feels like I ripped him off on his taxes before or something. Money, money, money... After the money "discussion" was over, I tried talking about other things, but hit a brick wall. He said he really didn't want to have the conversation right now. So I turned around and left the tax crap on the bed. Passive-aggresive shit returned to him. Dumb, I know, but I wanted to see how long he would let it sit there in the bedroom.

It seems like he thinks I don't care about him, how he looks, buying new furniture, and moving. He equated the response of my initial response of "whatever" to his remark about growing facial hair as some kind of insult on the way that he looks. Truth is, he rarely "makes an effort" I meant "whatever" as a personal choice. I gave more than that opinion after that, yet he still clung to the "whatever" as if I don't care. I make an effort pretty much every day not to look like a complete slob, as much as I can to make myself feel less self-conscious, for hygiene's sake, and to try and keep remembering how to do it. Yeah, I forget my little routine sometimes. Fuckin' Swiss cheese memory.

Yet another day crapped on, and he said he wanted to go to the grocery store at some point. Can't ever get a specific time out of him, but he yells at me for it. I'm guessing he might want to go late afternoon, if at all. Well, that was a fine way to build up more anxiety for me, trying to have an adult conversation with him. My chest feels like someone is squeezing the fuck out of my rib cage, and I have to remember to breathe. I have to remember to try to stay calm, and get rid of any distressed look that I can feel on my face. Just grit my teeth and try to get through it.

Oh... the spouse has just walked in with the tax forms, etc, and asked me if I needed them. I said "Not right now". So they're sitting on the table where he put them, where they will sit for a while. More passive-aggressive presents returned to him. Stupid, I know, but I want him to know how it feels. I doubt if he'll get it. He seems to have plenty of money saved up as it is without any crummy return. If I wait too long, I wonder if he'll end up using some kind of threats. I'm guessing that all he can think about is money and himself because of being laid off for this long, spending money fixing his car and tons of other stuff for himself, and expecting thousands in a tax return.

I feel ill. My face is burning up. Need to get off the couch and move. Distract. Distract....Shower! Hate it, but will definitely distract.

FUCK.

The Killing Moon

I want the sunlight to go away. Now.

I tried to stay in bed late, but it was impossible, the spouse was being totally inconsiderate, and making all kinds of noise while he got up,and didn't even close the bedroom door. He even asked me if I was having a "lie in". I said yeah. Not possible when he's up and around. I sighed after he came in again for his computer, and got up and put on my PJs.

Oh, man...

I've just been accused of not caring about any money that's been spent on me. I don't see a whole lot that was spent on me that I every asked for, in the form of things around me... I don't ask for things. I never really wanted anything I couldn't buy for myself in the first place.I was also accused of being wasteful, of caring only for myself, and my big daily medication box (of all things)! I said "I care a LOT about taking my medication, because I need it, or I don't know what will happen to me if I don't.". How is that a crime?" Or does he see that as a crime? Because he agreed to help me out with the cost of my prescriptions? Because he hates it and regrets it now? Because he may think that I'm just trying to get him to pay for stuff for me? That was never even my idea! It was his" Prior to that, this is the shit that went down:

I really don't understand how/why people/couples fight exactly, apart from me doing something terrible when I was drunk, So now that I'm soberish, I don't know if I'm really supposed to participate or what, or how. I don't know what the hell is going on when someone freaks out that I give them an honest answer when they ask me, "I'm thinking about cultivating some facial hair to show of some of my gray. At first, I think it's a joke, but then I play safe, and give a serious and honest answer. The spouse asked "What do you think?" I said,"Whatever. I don't like facial hair. It's neither pleasing to the eye, nor pleasant to the touch." I guess he was angry and hurt by it, and chose to plant a quickly growing seed of anger in his head instead of talking about it anymore. I asked him if his PJs were new. I didn't know what kind of expression I had on my face, but I was thinking that red really wasn't his color. I didn't give an opinion. They were plaid. Mainly red. He acted like I was putting him down, said, "Just keep being negative", then left the room.

He came back and sat down in the living room again, where he asked, "You gonna pay me for that mop that I bought? You don't even use it." I don't use it?! "I paid $60 for the damn thing and you don't even use it." and "You never say anything nice about the way I look". I was not that shocked but was really disgusted that he was going down this lane AGAIN - the $$$ I told him he never comments on how I look, my hair or clothes. I said I wouldn't be offended if he didn't like my haircut or clothes. I asked him if he was going to pay for the vacuum cleaner that he watched me buy just to hear what he would say. His answer was, "Well, at least that gets used." Love your logic. Notice there was no "yes" or "OK" in there. I remember buying it, thinking he might help me out. I was kind of shocked and disappointed when he didn't. That was way in the past, and I didn't let it get to me. I wasn't angry or feeling cheated out of money or something.

I said nothing for a while, and then he asked me if I'm going to pay my taxes, and that he just wants what's his." Yep. I knew he would never sign those forms with all that time on his hands to sit there and fester and think about his pile of money that he always kept his meathooks dug into. All I could say to that was that I would have to look at the forms, do it all over again and see what would happen. He mentioned again that he just wanted what was his. Then I said, "What do you want? Do you just want me to give you all my money? Would that make you happy?" The sun starts quickly setting in my head.

He also mentioned that I don't care about him, that I'm not interested in him, that I accuse him of wasting his money. He bought another Kindle, the pad, and downloaded all "Game of Thrones" books when we have them all already. I was referring to the 1st book when I strongly advised him not to waste his money on those books just for the sake of his kindle pad. He got pissed.

He also dug up an ancient story about a $500 deposit he/we lost on an apartment in a different neighborhood that I changed my mind about at the last minute because it was too many bus rides/time away from my shrink, and I was paranoid about living in the neighborhood. I had 2 Xs living in the neighborhood, and 1 X fling. There were too many tempting bars I used to spend too much time at that were still managing to stay in business. Also, the whole neighborhood was being torn down, and going through the very, very uncool gentrification process. I may or may not have paid him half of that deposit back. I don't remember, but I remember paying extra for fees here, where we ended up. I never complained, or wrote it down in my "You Owe Me" book in my head. The sky is growing darker and darker in my head.

The last stab in the back was,"You didn't marry me for love. You only married me to pay your bills." Ahem. I was living on my own, and paying all my own bills at the time he came to live with me from the UK, plus while he was working there occasionally, I paid for all his fees for the process of getting here, and he never mentioned that. Neither did I.I said "That's absolute BULLSHIT". He grabbed his computer and said, "I'm taking my bullshit into the other room." I went into the kitchen and grabbed the last grocery receipt, and transferred money over for the groceries and his stupid fucking mop. $30? I just kept thinking How fucking petty. How fucking petty... Sometimes I'd like to pistol whip him for being so fucking crazy petty. Who did he learn that from?

He came back out again, but just to make tea, and asked me if I wanted some, almost sounding like he had realized that he'd gone over the top with that shit scene. But I'm sure it was just out of guilt/manners, nothing else. He can go back into the bedroom, go online, stare at his bank account balance and squeeze every virtual penny he can. Have fun. And if I make tea, I'll only be asking him if he wants some out of courtesy as well, even if I have to deliver it to the bedroom.

So he is very sensitive, but will not admit it or talk about it with me. He has issues he will not discuss with anyone. He just keeps bottling them up, day after day, year after year. The sun is gone, the sky is black, and the full moon has risen in my head.

This guy really needs to go back to work. If anything, to get away from me. He gets bored constantly, angry, cabin fever, smokes a pack a day, takes naps (!), yet won't do shit outside when it's sunny, and he's not working. Makes no sense at all... How many times have I said it? He acts like he doesn't care about anything but money, eating, and maybe moving out of this place.

I'm not really feeling depressed at all, or sad, or angry... irritated, yes, but I got up that way. I'm trying to stay in the moment. I'm tired, and losing that hour's a bitch. I wasn't able to get outside. I have no energy, which is OK because it's Sunday, and exercise is optional. It's Zombie Day... so the spouse should be in a better mood. I am feeling some tolerable anxiety, due to the time change fucking me over.. No thanks to that dick, Benjamin Franklin, or whatever story you choose to believe. Fuck 'em all. I have a headache, it's dark in my head, and I want everything to just suddenly STOP.

Should have watched "Donnie Darko" last night, but it felt too much like a guilty pleasure you do only when no one is looking.

Why do I continue to live and breathe, and why an I still wearing this stupid woman suit?