Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Bomb It and Start Again

All last week, all I could really think was how much I wished I could just start over. Move far away and become a different person. There are so many reasons why my life right now sucks ass.

  • Apparently I'm a horrible shrew who nags, never lets things go, and lives to far away for the only sex partner I have (had, who knows). Though I should keep in mind that, if I was a guy, my sex partner would inevitably find me an unavailable, uncommunicative dickhead.
  • Other would be dating partner and I finally tossed in the towel, after months of me not making any moves on her. Also, she's *TOTALLY* in love with her new-old boyfriend. Which is funny because she said that she wasn't so keen on dating another bi girl because she didn't want to be a side salad to the chicks main course boyfriend.
  • I have a ton of shitty debts, most unavoidable, like medical bills, that I can't pay so I'm leaching off of others for that and always wondering how I'm going to pay for them.
  • I can't find a job to save my life. Last week, a corporation where I applied for, tested for, and interviewed for 2 positions at sent me a total of four rejection letters, just in case one letter per job didn't give me enough of a clue that they don't want me.
  • Volunteering isn't going much better, as I feel so uncomfortable trying to sell people on the organization who are unresponsive or uninterested that I psyche myself out (not in the good way) for later attempts and then just throw in the town all together. Though today I finally heard from the animal shelter. I think I'd be more fulfilled cleaning puppy and kitty poop.
  • Gram has diabetes and is not following the "diabetic diet" for shit. It could be worse. It's not like she was eating sugar and crap before this. But she does eat lots of starch without any balance. And we aren't there, so we can't make her eat, cook for her, etc. Just another health thing to worry about with her. And each time I try to talk to Mom about one of us being out there with her, I just get shot down, which is sort of a relief because I would be the one and most of me doesn't want to do it, but I still feel like it should be done. It's frustrating. It'd be easier to not think about it or deal with it.
  • I'm hella tired of my own drugs. I'm tired of the "side effects" that can't be treated with other drugs, the ones that other people seem to just brush off. As MP says, the drugs make me a whole lot less dead, which means that everyone else things they are worth the price paid. But, as I've asked before, when is it not worth it to live as someone else on the meds? I'm tired of being slow, of not feeling like myself, of not being able to even come up with ideas to write fiction stories from, of not being able to make connections between things, of feeling like my IQ is 20 points lower than before, of not feeling creative, of not feeling or wanting to be sexy. I'm tired of the acne, the hair loss, the shakes, the twitches, the change in taste in and of food, and gaining weight at exponential rates.

So, why not go? Why am I still sending out applications for jobs? Why am I cruising CL for a new lover? Why am I making plans for what "homemaker"-y stuff I'm going to do tomorrow?

Well, first, did you read about the job thing? Which leads to a whole "no-money" things?

Oh, yeah, and my uncle has a new tumor. Seems the experimental drug isn't working anymore. He has a broken rib that won't heal because there is a tumor in the middle of it. His oncologist at the Big Cancer Clinic weaseled him into a study they are doing in Slightly Larger Midwestern City, which is good because it is closer to him, but not so great because he has to see Gram everytime he goes. But he's in alot of pain alot of the time and... well, he's not dying this minute or maybe in the next couple of months or maybe even the next year, but it seems like that whole "dance in celebration of remission" the family did was a little premature, if it was even warranted at all. He's 38, for chissakes! He'd just came out and gotten comfortable and gotten a place where he felt at home and now this. (And I guess this is the bargaining phase but) Why couldn't it have been me? At least I want to/have wanted to die.

I just want a couple things to go right at the same time. And for me not to fuck them up.

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