You Deserve a Break Today

Yeah, I'd like a motherfucking Kit-Kat bar right now. Thankfully it has corn syrup and I don't quite feel like having a dumping session at the moment. I think it has corn syrup. Either way, I'm not touching it. I will not BINGE right now. I will NOT binge right now. I am better than that, I have control, and after I go to the market, I will either smoke a massive joint OR take serious amounts of klonopin. Because I need to. My heart rate just went to CRAZY. And in an hour or two, it could turn dissociative. Awareness is fun.

Recap, yes? I go to have lunch with Phyllis. I love her. She helps me understand that I need to live, that there is a person here somewhere inside of me that ISN'T weight. What? Me, not survive on the identity that I am just a former fattie? Fascinating. Heh. Gotta work on that.

Oh, so I have a voicemail from my surgeon. Probably reminding me to not have liquids after midnight on Tuesday, right?

WRONG.

It's from Melanie. My father's refusing to pay. Well, he will but "I just don't have it right now". Um, I TOLD you you needed to have it. You fucking have it. You just refuse to use certain funds out of the irrational fear that you're going to be homeless if the house forecloses. Which it won't. Newsflash - you have some money piled away. USE IT for your daughter. OR, use it to pay the bills you complain about. But don't say you're saving it for retirement. You're 78. If you ain't using it now, I mean, really.

Sorry, I'm sure that's too much anyone ever wanted to know about my family finances. We used to have some money, not much, and now we have very little. I get it. I fucking get it. I don't need the "Shira, work in my illegal business so we can eat this month". Please, bullshit. When you stop buying ridiculous equipment to test your blood pressure and blood coagulation that you could easily see your doctor for but you're too lazy to go 1/2 mile because that would be "inconvenient", fuck you. Just fuck you Dad. I love you SO much, but it would be nice if your Asperger's took a hike for 15 minutes.

Okay, I get it. I know I'm a spoiled brat who's getting the plastic surgery while people in the world are losing their jobs and all that shit. But dammit. Motherfucking goddamnit.

It should still work out. I'm resourceful enough to manipulate this situation to my advantage. I am, thank GOODNESS.

But I still need a major hit after the market, or I may very well lose it. Between this and what was written in my previous post, I'm sort of on edge right now. Thankfully not suicidal, but dissociating is NOT something I consider an enjoyable thing. But my brain has a meter. Somewhat like this one. I would say I'm around 40 right now. If this doesn't work out today, I'm liable to hit 80.

From "40" to "80". I dissociate at 65. Obviously, these numbers are silly, but it gives me (or you, or whomever), an idea of what my brain goes through.

I already had one cry today. I'm starting to go numb. Which means I'm close to dissociating. And I don't feel like staring at the wall while my brain goes on a mushy mission to kill myself. That's what happens. I'm not suicidal. But when I dissociate, it's bad. I don't want to go to there.