| 14°C |
Eating Genius (GF) Blueberry muffin, pissed at the phones my poor best friend S currently has to put up with, wondering how long it’s going to take me to lose my rag with this UMIDIGI F1 that’s been somehow compromised…
I had my shower. My body and mind feels better. It was difficult — I ended up in a rather bad sugar crash, and had to eat Toast, DF Cookies & Jacob’s Crackers. In the shower. It was Not Nice… 😖😞
When I got upstairs, I ended up fretting and being broken by the thought – the knowledge – that this didn’t have to have been like this for so goddamned long.
Afterwards, I also had to endure the inevitable subsequent Adrenaline push, making me quiver and shake as badly as the Sugar Low, Vexed & Anxiously Disgruntled by the time I got out and went upstairs.
Did you know that when I told Sophie that the Twat Fuckfaceheads that came to see me (Johanna & Donna – rat bastard C***s) had told me that if I decided I wanted to go on the list for a place of my own, that I could not have this place done up to be functional, she was astounded and told me it was UTTER BOLLOCKS…!! UTTER FUCKING BOLLOCKS!!
I hadn’t HAD to suffer! I hadn’t HAD to go through such Agony any Trauma as I had… and still had to.That this could all have been Avoided by someone who cared about taking pity on me and allowing me to have the shower room that I desperately needed so frikkin badly.
I DIDN’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH ANY OF THIS AT ALL!!!!!!!
And what could I have DONE with access like this to a shower that would have cut my pain in HALF??!! The Escalation could have been STOPPED. Such ongoing TRAUMA & AGONY & HATE AVOIDED?????
HAVE I NOT BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH????? DID I REALLY NEED TO GO THROUGH EVEN MORE?????
NONE… AT. ALL.
I cried. Just a little bit. But. I. Cried. I never, ever cry (unless it’s Meltdown-Related). I do not cry when I am sad. This, though… This so Disgusted Me, Moved Me, Disturbed Me… I didn’t know what else my body could possibly do, when it did this…
… Inside, I am just Traumatised All Over Again. I honestly have another wave of PTSD about all of this, on top of, and Separate, from the rest. It makes me feel… Terror. Horror. Makes me want to physically vomit. The Fear. The Horror. The Sickening Suffering…
I am Devastated. Wrecked. Frustrated. Horrified. Traumatised. Destroyed. I could not describe it any more, or any better. These things are not easy to process in any way, shape, or form.
Does anyone else feel sick now, too…??
Nearly Two Years – Two Frikkin Goddamned Years – Has Been Lost. I was 36 when the Occocuses Started. And I’m 38 1/2 when the Shower is Fitted.
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