Venting, Stalking, and Insomnia

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The past week has been tremendously difficult for me. I was having trouble sleeping. I had gone five days with no sleep. It was atrocious. I was a complete mess. Last night I did finally sleep. Approximately seven hours. I was excessively hyper. I felt like a hummingbird on the breeze.

So, I have a friend, who I don’t know in person. He’s a sweet guy. However, I have no real feelings for him other than platonic. 

He’s borrowed money from me, with promises to pay me back. I have not seen one cent. He has asked for money to “buy groceries”, but he goes to the bar, instead, and gets blind drunk. Kind of pisses me off.

The other issue is he keeps hitting on me. Even more so when he is inebriated. It honestly grosses me out. I don’t find him attractive in the least bit. He knows I’m married, yet he persists. I don’t know how else to tell him to just stop. It’s degrading and embarrassing.

Speaking of being hit on….

My husband was helping a coworker who has tons of old collectables, sell her stuff on eBay. She has been through a tough bout of health problems. Well, just a little over a week ago, she was texting my husband about her sales, asking for updates.

She then thought it was a good idea to proposition my husband for sex. She tried to get him to come to her house for “something special”. When he asked her what she meant, she told him that it was her. She was persistent, proclaiming her feelings for him.

He told her that he is married (to me), and that he would not be doing that to me. She kept begging for him to come over to her. He continued to tell her that he wasn’t interested, he was married, and there was no way anything of that nature was going to happen.

That infuriated her. So, she began to threaten him. She apparently knows who I am, and my sugar glider business; she was stalking me through Facebook. It’s a little unnerving to know that she’s been doing that.

Anyway, she threatened him. She said that she was going to destroy his life. She told him that she was going to contact me, and tell me that they are having an affair. My husband freaked out. To say he was infuriated is an understatement. He told her that she was no longer welcome to talk to him, and that he was no longer going to be helping her sell her shit. He boxed up her stuff and left it on her porch. I guess she thinks that she is going to just take my place in my family, and it’s all going to be gravy. Because no one is going to notice that my two tons of fun fat ass was replaced by a crazy person.

She said that she was going to make me disappear. Good luck!

Now, I’m not worried. I don’t think he would ever cheat on me. But, if this bitch wants to threaten him and me, she is going to be in a world of shit.

But, she’s stalking me. A few nights ago, someone was throwing rocks at my house. So, I grabbed my hunting knife and baseball bat. I went outside cautiously and quietly. She was snooping around. I startled her, causing her to scream. No lie, I nearly shit my pants.

I slipped in the gravel, and fell down, giving her the opportunity to escape. That bitch was in her car, and taking off so quickly, it was impressive! I jumped up, and ran after her. I didn’t catch her, but I ran like a mother fucker for a block. She was gone. I feel stupid because I didn’t get her plates information. But, I think she won’t be back. I’m a menacing little psycho.

I have not seen hide, not hair of her since. This incident sparked my insomnia. I was riddled with anxiety.

Today, I accidentally picked up my husband’s tablet. He has pictures of himself, flexing his biceps and another one, where he was just out of the shower. Towel wrapped extremely low, showing his entire torso. Like, why is he taking these pictures for? And who is he taking them for? Because, he never showed them to me. Hell, he doesn’t even pose for me, in that kind of scenario. I hate to say it, but I am suspicious. 

I have not said anything to him about the pictures. I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know that I want to know, to be honest. I’m so confused and concerned that something is going on. I don’t know what to do, or if I should just ignore it.

I hate life and I don’t see me getting any better.

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Faceplant FTW!


Yesterday was quite the hellish adventure. Let me just warn you that if you are not a fan of gushy blood stories, don’t read on. 
I woke up with a very bloody face (much like the picture I’m sharing). My nose decided that I would love to wake up with my face and shirt just saturated. I had to take a shower and wash my clothes. 
After that, I thought I was in need of coffee. Made it. Drank it. Went for a second cup. As that was brewing, I went to put my clothes in the dryer. 
Faceplanted the floor. Blacked out.
Got up after I came to. Bloody nose. I expected that one. Washed up, got coffee and went to sit down. 
Within a few minutes, blood started to drip out my nose, once again. Went to wash my face and I Faceplanted. Had to clean up the mess; my face and the carpet.
By this point, I’m dizzy and really fucked up feeling. I don’t know how to describe it, other than it felt like I huffed a can of spray paint (never done), smoked some weed (actually have done), and a vice was squeezing my head.
I had a problem focusing my eyes. Then, guess what? Bloody nose. By this point, I am trying to not freak out and question if I need to go to the E.R.
I probably should have, but I didn’t. I hate going, being poked with needles, and getting no real help. 
I fainted a couple more times. Had a couple more bloody noses. Threw up a couple times because of the dizziness. Then decided that I would just not move the rest of the day, scared that I would take a header into the wall (which, by the way, sucks major donkey dick) or end up face down on the floor. I already had cleaned up enough blood, and I didn’t want to do it any more.
I was miserable. I was loopy as hell and probably made no sense throughout many of the conversations I had. 

None of the blood loss is going to be replenished by my defective body. I don’t want to sit through a (possible) transfusion, testing, and the whole world of shit that goes with it. 
I am in a world of shit. 

I hate people…

This kind of shit only happens to me.

I went to the grocery store to get a couple things. As I am walking around, a guy approached me, from behind, and says very loudly, “Where are the frozen sweet peas?”
Now, we are actually standing at the end of the frozen food section. Not realizing that the gentleman was addressing me, I continue to shop. Again, the man, who was literally two inches from my ass, yells, “HEY! I’m talking to you! Show me where the peas are!”
I turn around and give a resting bitch face followed with, “No.”  Guy gets pissed off, and tells me that he’s going to get me fired, calls me a lazy fat bitch, and stared me down. 
I respond to him, telling him I don’t work there, told him to get fucked, and then said, “Yes, I’m fat. Because every time I fucked your dad, he gave me cookies.”
The guy didn’t know how to respond. His face was bright red. He storms off to get the manager, and brings her to where I am. He tells her I’m a terrible employee, and that I swore at him, and refused to help him.
Manager looks at me, completely confused. She then looks back at the gentleman and tells him, “She is a customer. She doesn’t work here.” He got belligerent with her, calling her a liar.
She kicked him out of the store. 

She apologized to me, which wasn’t necessary. I thanked her and finished up my shopping.
I’m not going out in public ever again. Fucking assholes are everywhere!

Take the blue pill….

I feel like hell. I don’t get enough sleep. I don’t have any energy to keep going, usually. 

I started a new medication. No lie, it fucking sucks. It’s an antidepressant that is replacing the ones I have been on. I did the tapering off the original meds, and then started the new one. What a fucking shit show.

I have been going through random episodes of mania. I get angry, mean, and abrasive. I don’t like it, and can’t seem to stop it. It scares me. The ups and downs are mentally exhausting. It’s embarrassing.

Thankfully, I will see my doctor next week. I’ll have to let him know everything that I am dealing with while on the new antidepressant. 

I just want to be normal. Well, a version of normal that is me. I spend so much time trying to find myself. I’m failing miserably.

A little bit of this, and a little bit of that.

I’m feeling a little better than I was the other day. Despite the seizure, and being scared to death, I am ok.

Feeling a little bit down, but it will pass.

I’ve been getting out of the house more. It’s actually been very positive for me. 

My mom takes me to a Bunco night. I’ve met some wonderful ladies and really enjoy the game. I love making people laugh, and even if I look like an asshat, I’m glad that I can be a positive experience.

I’ve also been going out with both my parents to trivia nights. Once or twice a week, we go to a bar/restaurant and participate in the trivia.

It’s a fucking blast!

Tonight, the three of us competed against 10 +/- teams. There was a lot of people there! We won 2nd place! We beat a team of about 13 people. 

Just us three. How fucking cool is that?

I’ve made a new friend. Actually, a few new ones. My brother plays an online RPG, and made loads of friends. He has introduced me to them, and I just kinda did my best to be part of the human experience.

I absolutely adore one of them. He looks out for my brother, and that means the world to me. So many people have taken advantage of him, stole from him, and hurt him in so many different ways. It really helps to know that I am not the only one who cares.

This dude though. He is fucking hilarious. Great person and someone whom I am glad to call a friend. Hopefully, he isn’t scared of my crazy ass, and calls me a friend, too.

I’m tired. I need sleep. So, I bid you adieu.

Something went wrong…

Yesterday, at 4:50 PM, I had a seizure. 

I was scared to death as my body tensed up, and began to violently jerk. I felt like I was being electrocuted from head to toe. I was gasping for air with every jolt that shot through me. 

What was only a few seconds, felt like an eternity. I only remember bits of the episode, but it was enough to know that something wasn’t right. My husband was quick to assist me, ensuring that I didn’t get hurt. He was calm. He’s seen it before.

Once the jerking and the feeling of electricity shocks subsided, I ran out of the room, into the closest bathroom, and cried. I was scared. I don’t know what caused it to happen. 

I’m writing this so I have it documented, in case I ever needed it for medical records. Nothing more. 

I wish we could turn back time….

I don’t really know where to start. I have been a total wreck. From pain to sleepless nights, I have suffered silently. This is my only dumping ground for my feelings. I find it hard for me to just tell my family and friends how I really feel.

I’m going through another series of injections into my spine. Last week started the testing phase of my left side. Next week, test the right. Then, within a few weeks, the actual injections begin. Nothing is more fun than getting test needles jammed into you, and your relief lasts only an hour. 

Best fucking hour I’ve had without pain in the left side of my back!

Last night I went with my husband to his hockey game. By the time he was done, I was in the full swing of a fibro flare up. It hurts to walk, sit, lay down, and so much more. I feel like I am a total adulting failure. I feel worse because my husband has to pick up where I can’t finish. I am useless.

I’m being put on a new medication for my depression. If they would just give me Valium, we wouldn’t have to go through a million different things that don’t work. Fuck, give me Xanax. That shit works. No. Let’s just put me through hell.

I’m just tired of the hoops that I have to jump through. Everything happens at such a slow fucking pace. I’ve been trying to find a neurologist, but I swear, a good one is rarer than the fucking Unicorns. One asshole thought it was a good idea to ram a fucking needle into the back of my head, and put lidocaine in there. My migraines got worse. He was a dumb mother fucker.

So, I have trouble with trusting most neurologists because they all tend to be dumb fucks who don’t know how to help stop a 10 year streak of daily migraines. I would prefer they just admit that they don’t know what to do instead of turning me into some kind of experiment.

Sorry. I’m just frustrated. There’s times when I just want to give up. I’m exhausted.

I’m a work in progress…

I’m trying. Trying hard to not fall apart. Trying hard to not fall. Just….trying.

I’m emotionally drained. Nothing of significance caused the way I feel. It’s just a conglomeration of life’s “fuck you’s” that are currently a roadblock.

I feel like a total loser. 

I am also trying to help others feel better. If I can impact just one life, I will feel better. I love to make others laugh, feel beautiful, and more positive.

I wish I could do all of that for myself. 

I’m on day #2 with an ever growing fibromyalgia flare-up. Clothing feels like they were made of sharp knives. My head and brain feel like they are spinning; which, in turn, amplifies the daily migraines. Ten years. Ten fucking long years of daily, painful, chronic migraines. All the tests and images didn’t do anything to help me. 

What’s wrong with me?

It’s been super hot here. Last week, temperatures were up to 120°. It is about 110° today. It isn’t totally awful, but I don’t like it because I sweat like a mother fucker. It is gross and embarrassing.

Saturday afternoon, my husband and I, went out to brunch with my (ex) friend’s husband. Matt is such a sweetheart. We all talked about everything under the sun. 

Before he arrived, we talked about his separation. I addressed my behaviour towards him and apologized as much as possible. 

My husband and I really enjoyed hanging out with Matt. I still wish Amanda would have been there. I miss her. She’s my beautiful pageant queen. Always and forever, even if we never speak again.

Summer heat is upon us.

As expected, and gave me anxiety, the heat here (Arizona) has been steadily rising. We have been sitting around 109°, with forecast predictions for the heat to be in the 120° range.

I don’t do bad in the heat, but I sweat like a mother fucker. I’m glad I have my mohawk, because I have really thick hair. I don’t want to bathe in my sweat.

Over the last few weeks, I have been planning a little bit of a gathering. My (ex-)best friend’s husband is going to be here, starting tomorrow. Poor guy is going to be dying. I really hope he doesn’t get sick. 

It would have been nice to have his wife come with, but she left him, and ditched any kind of interaction with my husband and me. Breaks my heart. I would have given everything up just to hug her. To spend quality, fun times with her. But, none of that is going to ever come to fruition. 

I’m probably being very bi-polar about my emotions about her. It’s not easy being discarded with no explanation. 

So, Matt will be meeting with us, and enjoying a lunch break. I was awful to him, several years ago. I was lead to believe that he was an abusive asshole. I was also accused, by his mother-in-law (who has known me for almost 20 years), that I was trying to seduce him. I don’t think I have ever been so shocked, insulted, and pissed off in my life. Please excuse this following outburst: SHE’S A FUCKING PSYCHO LYING CUNT. That was the last straw. She drove a wedge between us. She has no idea how much I despise her and wish she would just disappear. She has ruined my closest friendship. She cast doubt, trying to destroy my image. Even worse, I have no idea why she did it.

To put it simply, I was blindsided. I felt my heart tear in half. The pain was too much. I never cry, but this caused me to emotionally break down; I cried for days. 

I need to stop thinking about it. I don’t want to be all fucked up when Matt arrives. I hope that he has a good time with my husband and me. We are looking forward to seeing him.

I don’t really have much more to write. I’m just going to end this post, here. See you on the flip side!