The fuck guys



This is what I get for making friends with severely left wing fanatics.

Yes, I get it. Trump is bad news. No one likes Trump on any of my social media timelines. Fuck, I don’t like him either.

But you know, TpYNDNG LkeikE yoIERNR INEAND EARlDFNTHquAKE isn’t really the way to express disappointment. And that’s what it is. Disappointment. We’re disappointed. In the end we’ll just have a cheeto colored dude from Jersey who can’t get along with congress or the senate and can’t get anything done, and gets to go overseas and make us all look like tools for four years.

He’s a dick. He’s an ass. He’s a dry dick in a dry ass, but he isn’t lethal. Just exceedingly uncomfortable and we’re gonna regret bending over for this so enthusiastically after a while and when he’s done we’ll make shitty jokes about it.

In the mean time, I’m staying way the hell off social media, because I don’t want to see gloating, and I don’t want to see shaking and sobbing and vomiting while rocking in the fetal position. Neither of these will make me feel good.

Instead, I’m going to happily go back to ignoring politics.

This entire election was gross and both candidates were garbage.





Better than yesterday. I hadn’t cleaned the house in a while so I wiped things down, put away the dishes that were piling up, folded my laundry and cleaned up pieces of glass that I had missed yesterday. Told my psychiatrist about the shadows, he decided to up my latuda to 40 mg.

Turns out I had enough in this weeks paycheck to not only completely pay the rent, but also buy groceries. I still got a late notice in the mail about the car, but I told the bank to expect a payment next Thursday on the dot so they can stop shitting their pants about their goddamn 215 dollars. They can drive over here and suck my fucking dick, they know when they’re getting their money now.

Lithium has been ordered again, haven’t gotten a nasty gram telling me that I don’t deserve to be medicated because I can’t shit out 45 dollars on command. I didn’t have to fork over 45 dollars for latuda before when I got it from wallyworld, I guess putting a stamp on it makes it worth more.

Still, today is better than yesterday. It poured and snowed today and the roof didn’t leak brown shit again so I guess that’s a good sign. Maybe I’ll actually get a full nights sleep tonight too, considering I don’t have to wake up at 9 AM tomorrow.

I just want to know who the fuck is running a rotary saw at 11:45 PM right now.



Violent downturn.

Last few days, I’ve been seeing shadows in the corners of my vision. Small, humped things, just moving right out of my range of sight. I thought it was just my cats until they followed me to my parents house. I could see them moving in the mirror in front of the bathroom door.


I never feel alone.

Its like something is standing behind me just watching me, all the time. In the shower, at work, in the car, even while I sit and relax in my house. I’m afraid to ask my landlord to repair my lock because I’m worried he’ll demand more money from me, or ask why I’ve been paying my bill mid month rather than the beginning. I know what the thing that lives in my house looks like too. I saw it when I first moved in, I forget if I mentioned it before.


It’s all black, sort of 2 dimensional and shapeless. Its eyes are white with just a dot in the center for a pupil, and I remember it had straight, white, flat teeth. It said hello before it vanished, and it feels like this is the thing that’s watching me. I can feel something at work watching me too, I can see things moving behind me in the reflection of my helmet lens and my goggles. I feel like people have been actively trying to sabotage me, which has been mostly proven true after my boss and I found that the robot I work on was rigged to weld on its own fixtures, and that the first shift employee that works there has been hiding parts, tools and papers on me.

I feel like I really want to hurt him. Since it’s his fault that I almost destroyed a fixture and couldn’t complete work, and that now I have to be moved to a new area so I can actually get work done without him sticking his fucking penis in it because he’s a fuck headed dick stick who deserves to be hit by a plane.

I haven’t drank until I’m drunk for 2 years, and the same goes for popping sleep pills, but I really want to, even if the Christian Brothers I have in the house tastes like bad decisions and liquified ass. I’m getting internet drama over a roleplay scenario that hasn’t even fully happened yet, everyone around me is acting like a child, my cats smashed a jar of happy childhood memories yesterday while I was in the shower, as well as smashed a rose lamp that I had, and I feel like everything is crumbling around me and breaking.

I’m 215 dollars shy of being up to date on my car payments, i’m always behind on fucking insurance because of the fact i was a drugged up assfuck and smashed my car and got speeding tickets so many times that my agency has shot my bill up to 265 dollars a month because i guess when you’re a fucked up mental case who cant hold a job youre swimming in money.

i kind of just want to vanish into the house. there’s a leak in the ceiling and it looks like someone set a giant coffee mug down on my roof and left it there and im scared to ask the landlord to fix that too because hell just ask for money i dont have.

Take A Deep Breath



Today was better than yesterday. Less paranoia at work at least, though I still can’t shake the feeling that my peer mentor at my station thinks I’m stupid and can’t do my job. I don’t know if this is a real concern or not. My singular friend doesn’t seem to know there was any sort of uncertainty about the status of our relationship going on in my head, as he’s all happy about meeting on Saturday for beer and conversation, and a possible trip to the city.

I guess that was all in my head, I’m glad I nutted up and talked to him.

Came home and cleaned the apartment, scooped the litter, scrubbed the tub and floor and finally took care of the dishes I’d left in the sink for a full week. The fruitfly situation has improved as well since I scrubbed the counters with this anti-grease stuff.

Still, locked my bedroom door when I got into bed tonight. Had a lot of trouble getting out of bed this morning and almost couldn’t bring myself to scrub the dog vomit off the floor, little dog got sick this morning and it actually took some internal effort to kick him off the bed before he ruined the sheets. I have no idea why getting up is so hard, considering I have to be at work at 2:30 PM and I usually end up in bed at 3 AM. I’ve been sleeping dead until 1:45 PM every day. No clue why, as when I get to work I have boundless amounts of energy.

Haven’t eaten much of anything for the past few days other than coke zero and cookies either. Don’t know if that makes me a fatass or what, considering breakfast is a slice of pizza and lunch is a pack of M&M’s/a cookie. The car looks like someone threw a dumpster into it, gotta clean that out before my friend comes over on Saturday. I’m kind of hoping some lingering sense of shame convinces me to empty it out. I have to scrub the floor too since the laundry detergent bottle I tossed in there exploded.

Still. A better day is a better day. Have to see the psychologist tomorrow for med prescriptions, I’ll be passing off the information for the mail order meds then.






eat my ass i will pee on everything you love.

I finally made the call to the insurance supported med delivery bullshit place, gonna call my doctor tomorrow and ask her to fax my scripts to them, then cross my fingers and pray that nothing interesting can be made out of lithium and latuda like… hyper death meth or super crack, so I can get it out of my mailbox without being shot or mugged.


im pretty sure my shitty little dog could run an insurance agency better.

So guess what I’ve been dealing with? The assumption that my coworkers are talking about me behind my back and hate me, and that they are conspiring against me. That’s stupid, right? That’s so stupid-

Until it feels super actually really true, and you can hear them laughing as you walk back inside because you wore your welder shirt today and because you operate the robot you’re not a real welder so they think you’re just some dumb ugly poser and no one likes you and your friend doesn’t talk to you anymore because you’ve only got that one friend and your doctor is just being paid to be nice to you and probably doesn’t give a shit because she sees like 18 billion people like whatever who cares.

If I wasn’t a mentally unstable wreck with high taste in alcohol I’d drink the rest of the Christian Brothers Brandy to wash down my ambien. As it is, I cleaned my house, scooped the litter, fed the pets and put real food in my face that wasn’t bought from a vending machine.

I feel like I deserve money for waking the fuck up today.

The First Day



Very sluggish this morning, nodded off several times while waiting for trucks to get to my part of the line. I held back on too much caffeine today, mostly water and sparkling water. Couldn’t help but binge on greasy food though. A pox upon me, I guess.

General apathy overall, though I welcome it more than raw emotional turmoil and losing my shit at everyone who breathes incorrectly. No one seemed to mind too much that I’d missed a days work yesterday, and I did have the foresight to call in in the middle of my panic.

House needs cleaning again, odd smell in it that I’m not fond of. I should be trying to get to sleep earlier but sleep is something I’ve never enjoyed attempting to get, and for some reason I sleep better in midday than midnight. I say this with the full knowledge that while I fall asleep faster while the sun is up, I have a billion more nightmares due to the lack of ambien in my system.

No dreams that I remember to report on, which I vastly prefer. Even if it’s because I’m too heavily rugged to recall it, I’d rather not remember whatever horror show my brain decides to play for me. I recall one recent night I tried to sleep without ambien, and I was treated to a forest of shuffling, moaning, giant faceless beings, chanting together in a monotone voice. I watched two women be impaled on silver spikes, so that the tips shot from their necks and mouths. It was grainy and gray, like a bad webcam, or a really shitty old movie, but all that matters was I woke up mortified. Rather, I had to wake up several times, as I couldn’t tell when I was awake or not. Sometimes I’d stumble out of bed to find something scraping at my apartment door, trying to get in, other times I’d wake and see something shuffling outside my bedroom window, staring at me with beady, white eyes.

The sense of being watched keeps growing. I kept whirling around at work to face someone that was never there, because I was so sure someone was walking up behind me. A hoist beam would move and momentarily block out the light, and I’d assume one of my bigger partners was looming over me.

Hopefully some sleep and the usual dose of medications will help.

Hope to write more tomorrow.

Windows has Crashed



And by the end of the day, my mood has hit rock bottom. All my energy is gone, frankly I feel accomplished just to have put away the spaghetti I took out to eat this afternoon. I feel like going back to bed, honestly, and the only reason I haven’t is because I 100% intend on going right back to work tomorrow and I can’t do that if I wake up at 1 am full of the desire to drink eight bottles of beer and cry for an hour.

I’d say my lesson has been learned but I’m not entirely sure I won’t do this again either intentionally or by accident simply due to the fact that I know what kind of person I am.

At the very least I spent the better part of this day being snuggled by a four week old kitten and a very fluffy chihuahua/pom mix.

It kind of feels like some emotional mosquito the size of a jumbo jet landed on me and sucked all the feelings out of me now and I’m stuck between hideous gross self loathing and complete and total apathy. I should take a shower and wash off the stench of shame, failure and cat hair, and I probably will in about an hour or so.

But for the moment all I want to do is lay in bed and drink this Dr. Pepper and plan on how I’m going to improve my day tomorrow. I hate not being at work. I really should have just driven in panicking and worked through it, nothing really soothes me as much as beating the shit out of a piece of metal.