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The Clash – Train in Vain (Live at the Lewisham Odeon)

SADs and depression have been sitting on each of my shoulders lately. Sleeping has become mostly a joke. I get 4 hours here 2 hours there 3 hours somewhere else.

How do you know your Pnurse doesn’t really give a sh!t about your issues? She gets up, gets you a drink and ushers you out of her office before your finished trying to figure out what you may need to get through the rest of the season. I hope some day either I can change enough to trust someone worthwhile or the system can change enough to get better professionals. I mean granted I know my nurse knows cr@p about government matters when it comes to BP and MI. Seriously though, she has no clue about emerging treatments that can help reduce medications and be done at home? That’s dedicated conspicuous consumerism at work. Her bandaid was to let me think that taking the Xanax would help my sleep. F^ck just tell me you don’t have time for me and don’t care. At least I won’t be standing here with my pants around my ankles wondering if I was taking a sh!t or if I just got f^cked. The bitterness really stings.

I saw Chappie with my sister. I guilted her into it. We were suppose to see itlast week but she went with her son. (Honestly, I really don’t care. Saying I have no motivation is like saying that the ocean is wet.) It was cheesy and OBVIOUS in it’s pulling the heart strings. So ham handed in trying to elicit an emotional response from me. I spent most of the movie wondering how I could please my sister with an appropriate response. I gave up when I realized that I couldn’t be honest if I was trying to please her. I mean that is obvious but I am always afraid that she’s going to abandon me. The fact of the matter is she does abandon me hence our trip to see this movie. I’m not bitter about this. It’s just acceptance of someone else’s foibles and my acceptance of them. I get tired bringing out the anger over things I can’t change and are really not my problem at their root. I’m also getting tired of trying to manipulate these little pieces of emotional blackmail to my advantage. It never makes me feel superior and it just keeps the game going on. I’d like to feel clean for once. No actually I’d like to clean up my soul. I hate dragging around the questions I ask because of the paranoia and I think these games that I play with others in my life are prolonging the confusion fear and instability. It’s why I am talking to my son and trying to straighten out the little mental hooks I barbed in his brain as he was growing older. I felt I needed to control him. Control is pretty much a sad illusion that is fostered by fear and society.

I’ve been doing this with some people in my life. My best friend, my brother (an attempt that wasn’t all that successful,) people I know currently are the easiest ones to be straight with. I have no former history to work through. It helps me feel less like I am juggling people and need to feed their expectations. “F^ck it forget it” is my latest motto. It helps me believe it or not.

When I die not only can I not take anything with me, no one is coming along. Not one of you fools can save me and not one of you fools will assist me to the end. I’ve been there. Next to my father when he died. Close to my Mother when she passed. Near my Grandfather when he left. You and I will be gone. I figure I better get use to being alone now instead of afraid of that long step off the pier.

I’m one of those people conditioned to say “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” It takes energy to hold that sh!t back. I want to punch the assh0les who got so deep in my head to make me think that I am wrong and not good enough for others. It doesn’t matter if I’m good enough. I’m here.

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