July 9, 2025

Fuck. My. Life.

I want to write more than I want to breathe, but my thoughts are so chaotic right now I don’t even know where to begin. It just goes to show me, once fucking again, that life can change in a single insignificant moment.

This past Monday, my boss waited until the end of the day to let me and my only other co-worker know that he is shuttering his business. He has tried to make things work but with his health issues he couldn’t keep trying anymore. Where he did (no judgement in that statement by the way) is by finding a job for himself. Last Christmas he ran into an acquaintance that dropped this opportunity in his lap. He and his wife debated whether they should. They have built up this business over the last ten years and they didn’t want to just “give up.” When he started having severe health issues they took it as a sign and kept going down this new road.

Granted, they had already started his application/interview process before the health issues arose. So severe were they that he had to have open heart surgery to fix 3 issues and, after a 13 hour surgery, he flat lined in the recovery room. Luckily they were able to bring him back.

This choice for him and his family is significantly better. He has two kids, one going off to college, and they’re both moving into the part of life where they are taking care of their aging parents. (Luckily, mine are all dead!) I’m glad he could get something that would lighten the stress of running a business. Having to constantly worry about making enough money for your employees and yourself sounds like hell to me.

I saw how difficult it was from my husband. He owned his own company and when he finally shuttered his, because the work did the same thing it’s done here, he was distraught. He felt like a failure and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. At least my hubby and boss both tried. It’s just the lack of opportunity and the fucking red tape that keep people from excelling. For El jefe it sure as shit was work flow though. He networks with the best of them.

That said… I am without a job.

That just means that the only thing left to take from me is my health. But if we’re going with the Job parable, it’ll probably be my house before that. I don’t have any kids, so they won’t be crushed when it ultimately collapses in on itself. At least I have that silver lining.

Even with the anxiety and the panic of this I could easily change my perspective. Yes, it is terrible, the menstrual “cherry” on the fucking top of my shit sundae. Y’know, the one the good lord has been cooking up for me these past 6 fucking years.

However, before me lies a plethora of choices. Three off the top of my head are: find a totally new line of work, start my own business and keep going, or take the fucking hint and move the HELL out of Nazi Germany with it’s American facade. While I would love to get the fuuuuuuuuuuck out of here, I feel like that would open up way more complications. So I’ve opted to start my own business and keep going. With any luck I’ll be picked up by ICE once they’ve made homosexuals illegal. (It’s coming. Don’t you fret. All outlined in Project 2025.)

Starting my own business is so overwhelming. I have a good idea where and how to start but… The real problem is going to be finding work. Now I can bid shit at a competitive price and maybe get the jobs. At least get SOME money versus no money. My boss was determined to charge Covid prices. Honey… not in Trump’s economy. They rather low ball you and then never pay you at all. lol (Oh, fuck… now I have to chase down my own unpaid fees. Ugg.)

That’s my life. I for one can’t wait to see what disease, famine, or torture is sprinkled on top of the sundae. Maybe I’ll just die? Nah… not enough suffering for god. He likes to watch you wallow in misery before he takes your life. It’s the only way he can cum.

July 7, 2025

Peace Out

Today has been fucking weird and I’m only halfway through.

People on Bsky are on one. However, as a result, it finally gave me the push I needed to ditch that bullshit too.

I’ve already deleted twitter and facebook, and while I haven’t deleted Bsky I did delete the app from my phone. Maybe one day I’ll return, but at this point I genuinely I doubt that. It doesn’t come close to Twitter’s former glory. I loved that app so much, but of course some rich asshole moved in and made it terrible. As most rich douche bags love to do.

The unannounced Bsky topic dujour apparently was all about Dem in-fighting. I made the mistake of commenting on an article that discussed Dem politicians getting upset that their constituents are pissed at their lack of response to… anything. At one point I had someone call me a misogynist because I said “honey,” uneducated (I graduated Summa Cum Laude), and a do-nothing leftist. As a result I am out. I don’t have the energy or time to explain myself to “nobodies” on the internet.

With our carefully curated echo chambers we have isolated ourselves so much that all we can do now is point blame at everyone else in our own circles. (I am absolutely including myself into that.)

This is what the opposition wants. They want us at each other throats. Being distracted by this nonsense, it is easier to break us into even smaller groups. Once firmly trapped in our little social media bubble, we’re too distracted to formulate into a coalition to actually do something.

I’m exhausted and I have no interest in participating with this bullshit anymore. The world around me is burning and I have no immediate power or way to put it out. I find myself at the crossroads where I can find my own joy (when and where I can) or I can make myself miserable. I’ve been miserable the last 5 fucking years of my life. I’m done.

The only part that genuinely upsets me of my social media exodus is that I am finally doing the one thing my husband had wished I had done while he was alive. That causes me a lot of guilt. So, I will just have to tell myself that, even though he isn’t here to say it, he would still want this and is proud of me.

June 27, 2025

Somewhere Between the Lines

Well… the bitch (aka me) is off her meds. As of yesterday I took my last Lexapro and already I feel myself spiraling out of control. I had attempted to write multiple, MULTIPLE posts to decompress and express my emotions but every one turned out more nonsensical and incoherent than the last. Not to mention: insane. I sounded truly unhinged. (Which seems to be a reoccurring theme with me.)

Why did I stop my meds, one may ask. Well, it’s a two prong explanation. One, I tried to refill it and, for whatever reason, Kaiser would not let me; claiming that it needed my doctor’s approval. Which is odd because I just had my appointment with her wherein she upped my dosage. As a result, I ran out faster because the original order only had me on one pill.

Two, I feel like the medication is not working as well as it could be. Yet, even that comes with two other branches. Have I just built up a tolerance or I have ruined its efficacy due to substance use?

If it stopped working because I’ve become immune to Lexapro I genuinely do not want to walk my well worn path of finding a new one. In every previous attempt I get irritable. I end up hating me and my life (which… honestly, is true with or without medication.)

Should it be the latter, I am not in a position or mental state where I want to stop. The world around me is burning, and all of that which had held me together is gone (ie my parents and my husband.)

In a prior appointment, after I was forced into consultation because I had made an off-hand comment about not wanting to live, the nurse practitioner told me I had to choose between substance use or the medication. Doing both was clearly not an option.

Logically, taking medication to level out my moods should be a no brainer… yet I suggest, dear reader, that you refer to the paragraph before last and you will understand my conundrum.

I genuinely want to run away from everything. My life, this country, this plane of existence… everything is constant mental and emotional anguish. Some of which is so overpowering and unnerving that I find myself delving deep into the darkness of cruelty.

One of my prior attempts at writing centered on how I feel my thoughts turning me into a “villain.” Well, not an antagonist of some idiots story but a “bad person.” Seeing the cruelty of those around me elicits a response of equal or greater emotional value. That is something I do not want for me or my life. (Sorry to be so fucking vague.)

I’m hoping this response is just because I have submerged my mind in the constant stream of horrors via social media. A break from which could very well do me a world of good. (I am definitely leaning that way.)

Or… I may just be turning ever more into my father. Which is truly insulting to my father and his memory, because he at least understood that the medication that kept his schizophrenia at bay was imperative.

May 29, 2025

Emotional Self-Flagulation

This started out as a bluesky post and then I realized that the well in which I was drawing inspiration was overflowing. So, here I am to put it out on the internet for any person to read.

I miss my husband. I think I miss him more than I have this past year. I was told that it would get easier after the “firsts” but apparently not. This change coincidentally was ushered in by the wise words of my Papa Bill during out monthly ALS support meeting. He shared that, for him, it was worse in the second year. At the time I didn’t think anything of it. (I never do.) Until yesterday I had to pull over because I just started crying.

I happened to be playing Pokemon go at the same time and where I had stopped a Charmander simultaneously spawned in the game. My husband’s nickname, to his blood relatives, was Char. The name took me by surprise when I first heard it, because I immediately equated it to the anime. Another cute coincidence was that it’s CP was 776, which is super close to 777 which followed him around. I know none of this means anything. It was something that comforted me in the moment.

The other night I had a moment of realization that tipped my opinion of the BF and the brother. It dawned on me that these people are strangers. I don’t know them as well as I did my husband. Charlie was someone I trusted implicitly. These two men don’t carry the same weight. With that thought I suddenly felt very, very alone. And it has stayed with me since then.

In the abstract I know that I am being unfair to them. They have not shown me any reason to distrust them. Not once. My assumption is that I am carrying past trauma into this new future.

When I was a kid, for whatever reason I was a horrible judge of character. I trusted way more than I should have, and shared even more of myself than was wise in a desperate attempt to gain their trust. That was stupid on my part. Inevitably these kids would turn and use my truths against me to humiliate or isolate me from my peers. Awesome!

Since then I learned to own my truth and fuck everyone else. My level of shame is not very deep as a safety net for myself. I refuse to let anyone use my life as a weapon against me. I’d rather tell you I had cheated than have someone share it as if it was some dirty secret.

What does this have to do with my brother and BF? Well, I don’t know them. Not to the level I had with my husband. Which, in itself, isn’t fair since I knew him for 20 years. I never felt afraid with him because I knew he wasn’t going to leave or “betray” me. These men are “strangers” to me. I don’t know what they’re thinking, I don’t know their intentions. Are they here because they want to be or because I’m “useful”? (Which is another exposed nerve from my youth.)

All of this has weighed on my mind and I feel so alone and sad. Which is ridiculous because there is no reason to feel this way. It is all self-inflicted.