So discouraged.

I've been sitting here going over the budget for this pay period. And no matter which way I cut it we are either going to get evicted from our apartment or, go without food. Or I can try to make 11 dollars stretch to feed us for upwards of two weeks since my next paycheck is already spoken for.

As my infected teeth are throbbing away in my head, stomach churning around a handful of Advils I actually want to cry. I haven't cried about any of these stresses at all. I've just dealt with it. And now I want to cry.

I want to sit down and cry like I did as a little kid. Just sob and sob and hiccup until I either pass out or feel better. But I have a sneaking suspicion that crying won't make me feel better. Just make my head hurt and embarass me.

I just don't know what to do. I'm selling off everything and anything I can. And it's still not enough. I can't find a second job, I can't find a higher paying job. I'm really fucking up this being head of household thing.

I can't even wish or hope. All I can do is scheme and try to make sense out of the senseless, and squeeze blood from a stone. Neither of which is going well at all.

I thought I was finished.

I had given up on this blog. After going back and reading some of the entries I had decided to let it go. I thought it wasn't helping. The truth is I chickened out. I chickened out of writing the truth for myself about myself and I am a little ashamed.

So the update.

Since my last post I have turned 28. Contemplated walking out of my job, had quite a few anxiety attacks, had a panic attack at work (something I have only ever rarely allowed myself to do) came close to a complete melt down, lost ten pounds through stress alone, had my transportation die, almost been evicted from our apartment, stopped taking good care of myself, struggled to eat, had a few errant chest pains, shattered another molar, applied for about fifteen jobs (one interview that went horribly because apparantly anymore one must have a degree to answer phones and take messages..yes I'm bitter), rearranged 4.25 GB of music on my hard drive with another 10-15 or so to go, not been to the doctor yet (still just can't afford it), taken up drinking coffee again (far too much) and rediscovered the kind of self loathing that makes me want to slit my wrists.

That's quite a mouthfull.

I am not dead. So the suicide issue is actually pretty moot. While I might entertain the idea while I'm scraping for rent, food and transport to hell-work I mean to say, I don't consider it all that seriously. It's entertaining for a minute but I'm not there.

My life right now is what a sane person would call stress on fucking wheels. I don't think I've been this consistantly stressed out over not just one thing but my entire life ever. I remember once when I was in my early 20's and working 80-90 hours a week my Mom told me I was going to have a stroke.

I didn't understand then but I understand now.

I am at a point where I am more than dissatisfied with the state of my life. From soup to nuts. Body soul everything. I've done a lot of soul searching and it seems to me that a lot of this is hinging on this:
I have worked too goddamn hard to at age 28 quite literally have nothing to show.

• I have no degree.
• I don't own any property unless you count stacks of books and an almost outdated computer.
• I spend more than half of my income on just living expenses.
• My credit is beyond shit.
• My health is going downhill at a rate I can't even keep up with.
• I work full time, and cannot afford to take care of myself much less another person.

I am supporting not just myself but another person and it is beyond hard. At this rate we are going to end up homeless. In my daily quest to figure all of this out I have decided to use my skills of researching and love of finding obscure everything and am going to try and find myself some kind of grants. Whatever I can get at this point.

As much as I dislike Bush I will get whatever I can because I can't do this alone. I don't have the resources in any way I look at it.

So there it all is. The truth of my life as I know it. It makes me sad to see.

Hurting and tired

I'm stiff and sore. While I enjoy the slight warming of temprature the rain is just making me hurt. Nothing is comfortable. Sitting standing laying down. It's so exhausting. I slept badly. Have been sleeping badly rather.

Been doing quite a bit of research and I'm not entirely encouraged.

I don't really know what to do. I know I should go to the doctor but I can't really afford the copay.

Blah. How depressing.

What does it say about the state of things when a gainfully employed 'insured' person can't afford healthcare?

So far I've not been able to gather enough energy or wherewithall to really put an effort into some kind of money making on the side. About the most promising was getting trolled to be a 'real life' porn star.

Gods.

Not really what I'd needed to hear. Really.

I wish...

Well as I've heard my father say many times wish in one hand shit in the other see which gets filled up first.

At this point I'd just settle for not being so constantly exhausted. And maybe a day without pain.

Feels like a lot to ask.

I think that's all. This is making me feel weepy and shitty.

Oh for fucks sake

I really can't hold it in. Feel free not to read this.

Whining. Ok so I'm perusing the forum of another journal provider I use and to what should my wandering eyes should appear but the 'good' news that someone I can't fucking stand has been published yet again.

Now honestly I can say when I find someone elses writing good. I do it all the time. But this persons writing is lame. An opinion shared by many people I've both spoken to and where he's been chased off for being an arrogant asshole.

Can you see my eyes turning green?

I had looked at this publication in the not so distant past, and to this point had put them on the list of possibles but I don't think so now. Maybe this is an error on my part but I have become very careful as to who and where I will submit to whether it's in print or online. Honestly there are SO many ezines etc that just publish shit I dont' want to be lumped in with the bad. Does that make me a snob?

Gods.

Times like this I curse my low output, non-submitting, little published arse.

Ugh.

GAH

And as the title of this entry implies...OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!!

That is really all I can think to say.


I feel a little but still JAYSUS crispy. Ew. I feel like I need a soul/colon cleansing now.

And maybe after I beat the green eyed monster into submission I can get back to the entry I've been working on for 2 days.

And can I just say that that was entirely overly dramatic and I do in fact feel better. More to say but that will take awhile.

New Year

I am tired. What's new. Vastly unimpressed with my 'work' life. But meh. Yeah. I think I'm getting sick but I'm not sure. I've been terribly lethargic all day. Head half stuffy. Such a wonderful feeling. I was terribly busy earlier. Made the first few hours here at work go by pretty quickly.

I think it's coming to that time that I am in absolute need of a vacation. Burnt crispy. Granted this year I haven't had to work the mad overtime (much as I'd like it sometimes) but, I need a break of more than 1-2 days away from here.

What I'd really love is maybe 2 weeks of nothing. No phone, maybe no email/messengers. Just time to fart around doing not much of anything. Napping, killing shit in one of my more violent games. Drinking tea, reading books. Scribbling here and there. Just a little while of no stress no pressure.

Ahhh...such a dream.

Any other news? Not really. Had a good New Years. Save for the fucked up hangover feeling all day saturday and most of Sunday even though I drank nothing stronger than Shari's coffee.

I think this means I'm getting old.

Or my body is in not as good shape as I have been hoping.

That needs addressing. This winter has been hard. My joints ache pretty constantly. Sometimes I have a hard time walking. i get these sharp back/hip area pains that shoot down either leg and I have to just sort of stand in place until it passes. Strange muscle spasms. The four stairs that lead down to my front door sometimes seem like four hundred. I'm on the 'waiting list' to get in to see my doctor. At this point I might get an appointment sometime before my birthday.

It's a damn shame. Here I have health insurance and yet either when i can get an appointment I can't afford to go or, when i do have the money to go I can't get into the docs. A few months ago I forget now who i was talking to but I made the comment that I was better off when I had no insurance. And I was. That just depresses me it really does.

So I do what I can. I take a shitload of OTC meds that are probably fucking up my liver and kidneys. I use Absobine Jr. (mmmm hot green liquid), delude myself into trying to believe that it's not that there's anything wrong with me per se. But that I'm carrying 10-15 extra pounds and my body is angry.

There are other things that I don't want to talk about because it's embarassing and I'd rather not. Suffice it to say sometimes I very seriously feel like I'm already going through menopause.

I'm tempted to go to Planned parenthood and get at least started on the road to getting my health ducks in a row. When I was younger I rarely used my real name at the clinic. A bad idea on my part. There are chunks of my medical history that are missing because I had no insurance, gave other names. Blah. Damn I could kick myself in the arse for that.

I am more than tired of waking up feeling like crap. Of being in pain. Of feeling like an eighty year old. I just want to feel ok for a little while.

Until I can see my doctor I'll do what I can. I try to walk a little more every day. Take the stairs a few more times. And hope.

I think that's it I'm kind of depressed now. And I believe I'm going to do some research. If I can't get help from my doctor might as well do it for myself.

And I return

I haven't written here in awhile. Again. Mostly because I've been trying to ignore the things that are hurting me. As usual that only works for so long until I just can't stand myself anymore.

I am reaching a point where I am fairly sure something is going to give and I'm going to crumble. I can feel myself cracking around the edges. I've been withdrawing from people. Insulating myself against them so to speak.

Bah.

I can't do this today.

And then I...

I haven't felt like writing lately. I've been curled in on myself trying to filter out the outside world. I'm not incredibly fond of the holidays, there have been years and years of catastrophic things happening in and around me during the holidays and although it's been *knock on wood* about four years now I still sit cringing waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In other news I have my finances a bit back in hand. I've started paying off a second debt. I will be very glad when I am more caught up.

On the home front I believe things between us are getting less strained. I know how badly he's feeling about not having a job and how stressed I get trying to keep things in order. Just lately I've been keeping much of that to myself unfortunately. I can't bear to see how badly it hurts him although I know damn well he has a right to know what is going on in my head.

There's an absolute ton of other things going on my head. I've been gathering myself to get my adult not quite porn site idea up and running. I believe it will be quite a niche market and I've been working on writing up plans making a mock up. I've opened myself a Cafe press Store and on my very public blog have lately put an Amazon link on there as well as some other shopping type things.

Now if I could regain some of the confidence I know I used to have. Sometimes I just don't know where it went. I feel so small and ineffectual at every day living it is hard for me to imagine that I used to not feel like this.

I know depression and this isn't it exactly. This is fear no this is terror. Yes I am terrified of failing.

But I perservere.

I'm trying to pull out of the mole hole I seem to have gotten myself into. I'm fighting.