FreeBSDGirl.com

I don’t have the energy for a long post.

The previous post was regarding my step-sister. I just found out she was getting beat by her husband. I tried to fly her here. I tried to fly there. I tried to do everything I could. I guarenteed safetly for her and her daughter. She won’t leave him, though, so what can I do? I never thought of her as being one of those females. It crushes me to know that she is. It hurts more than anyone can comprehend to know that our friendship is probably over.

Mike and I are over. It was finished this weekend. I’ve been hiding in my computer. I’m not as upset as I thought I’d be. Everyone saw this coming, including myself.

My jaw is all swollen. I didn’t make it to work today. I didn’t want to have to answer questions. Every time I shut my eyes, I fall asleep. Infection.

James is leaving Atlanta. Great timing.

I miss my friends. On the upside, this is a great time for me to break out all the clothes I’ve missed. It’s a shame the Chamber shut down. I don’t really have anywhere to wear my favorite boots to. At least my new iPod matches everything. What’s on my iPod? Garbage’s Bleed Like Me. Christina Aguilera’s Stripped. Fragma.

I bought an obscenely expensive dress because of World of Warcraft. I was trying to get away from my computer, so I went to Bloomingdales. I saw this dress, this perfect dress. It was silk - green, beaded, and just gorgeous. Ribbons complimented the princess cut, and I thought I would die. The first thing I thought when I saw this dress - “I bet it has at least +12 int and is Bind on Equip”. I tried it on, it turns out it was true, so I bought it. I think I’m going to bring it back though. In the week since I bought it, I lost another 5lbs. The dress is falling off. Strapless dresses have to fit just right.

Boy - “You know.. I’ve loved you for so long.. I feel as though I’ve slipped into a parallel universe.”
Girl - “I don’t understand how you could love me.”
Boy - “I don’t understand how everybody could not.”

He hits her.

He’s done it more than once.

She’s not leaving him.

She’s one of the two people I would die for, the other being my son.

She said I wasn’t there for her.

I didn’t expect that.

I’m alive. In considerable pain, but alive nonetheless.

freebsdgirl@gmail.com is taken. Poser.

Until last Wednesday, I’d never had anyone close to me die. I’ve never really mourned for anyone. I’ve never had to deal with death. I always thought that at this age, most people would have death figured out. They’d know how to deal with it, cope, mourn, move on - next please? Maybe it’s that I never had to experience it before, lucky me. Maybe that’s why I feel so lost now.

I keep crying for no reason. Someone said something mean to me, someone I didn’t even know very well, and I started crying. I don’t know why. Everything is setting me off. Maybe having someone close to you die strips off that last little piece of innocence. No one lives forever, here’s your proof. Look at the person you love most, and imagine an expiration date printed on their forehead - like the gallon of milk that everyone keeps shoving to the back of the grocers fridge, looking for one that’s a bit fresher. Sorry honey, I want someone that is going to be good until July 21st.

I should be happy right now. I should be smiling, calling my mom, calling my friends, telling all of them about the job I just got - but I can’t even think about it. Someone opened me up, took out the best part of me, stitched me back up, and told me to have a nice life. I miss you, RJ.

It’s just a dog, right? I always viewed animals as just that - pets. Family members, but expendable. I’ve always been so cold-hearted. You wouldn’t know it from the way I act. I just don’t let myself get too emotionally invested in anyone. It’s like I saw this hurt coming before it even happened, little good that it did me.

Does it get easier? Does the death of someone you love sting less over time? Do you get used to it? When is she going to turn into a happy memory?

At least I have Anastacia and Oreo. Mike is rarely around. He’s either busy moving us into the house or he’s out of town on business. When I sink into my usual blanket-puddle of sobs, the puppies come running straight at me, pulling my hair and chewing on my fingers until it’s nearly enough to draw blood. They make me laugh with their attempts to cheer me up. It’s like they know when I’m so close to sinking into myself, and they do everything they can to take me out of it. C. was wrong, the puppies aren’t my way of being done with mourning for RJ. They are just all that’s keeping me going right now. Without them, I think I’d just stay in bed.

My uterus hurts.

Also, when the boyfriend is trying to initiate relations, affecting a lisp and nerd voice and saying “spear me with your lightsaber of love” is not considered a turnon.

Today, I get to play angry screaming white bitch. That’s my role in this telephone conversation. It’s going to go something like this:

Doctor’s office: “Hi, how can I help you?”
Me: “RAWWR. RANDI WANTS DRUGS.”
Doctor’s office: “Excuse me?”
Me: “I have been calling you for TWO FUCKING WEEKS trying to get a fucking refill to my fucking medication, which I kind of REQUIRE due to my EXTREMELY PAINFUL degenerative disc disease. MY FUCKING SPINE IS FALLING APART AND YOU WON’T GIVE ME MY GODDAMN PILLS.”
Doctor’s office: “Ok, the doctor will call you back to confirm.”
Me: “Oh hell no you don’t, dumbass bitch. That’s the line they’ve been feeding me every time, if they bother to even answer their fucking phones. I want the doctor on the phone right now, or you better call up Walgreens and give them my prescription information. It’s not like I’m asking for Valium. I’m asking for anti-inflammatories. They aren’t addictive, you’re just a stupid bitch.”
Doctor’s office: *click*
Me: “fuck.”

I desperately need a new doctor, but for that, I’d have to have new insurance. Mike thinks he might be able to get me on his. We’ll see.

All I do on my weekends is sleep. Last weekend, I know I slept 30 hours in bed. This Friday night, I slept over 14 hours. Saturday night, I slept 12. I always wake up feeling as tired as I was when I first climbed in bed. I hate going to sleep, and I put it off for as long as I can until I just can’t fight it anymore. I feel sick almost all the time now. It’s like being slightly hungover, an affliction that even my daily guzzling of Pepto Bismol won’t solve. I’ve been having random hot and cold flashes - more hot than cold, but they come on so sudden and so strong.

I don’t want to go back to the doctor. They can’t tell me anything I haven’t already heard. Doctors are only there to give you pills, and pills don’t fix anything. Pills are just that last dernier ressort, when it gets so bad I think I’m about to go insane, they offer that brief moment of ataraxia, perfect peace. It’s easy to feel like you could go insane when you’re always in pain. It’s even easier when you hate closing your eyes because you know you’re going to fall asleep, and then the dreams will come that you can’t make yourself remember, and you’re not sure if you want to, anyways.

I feel poopy. Friday, Mike and I had a fight. I was worried and stressed out because I had just found out that my dad was in a car accident, and I took it out on Mike. My dad is ok, but it was still pretty scary. He’s lucky that he didn’t come out with worse than a few bumps and bruises. He was in Alabama on a business trip, and 4 high school wrestling team kids were crammed into a little Kia or something. They ran a red light and hit my dad straight on. Dad was going about 25mph and the kids were going 45mph. Everyone came out OK.

Saturday, I was still feeling really tired, and my jaw was hurting. I’m probably going to have to get a root canal on Monday, fun fun. I took Mike’s car and went and picked up some goodies, and then we dropped by Mike’s house to check on the animals. Dumb whore Christine finally left Matt, good riddance. She went to Arizona, apparently. Her dumb whore mother decided to take her back. Oh, this is going to be great fun. I give her 2 months before she’s back whoring to Matt again. After we left the house, we drove to Riverside Park. We had yummy tuna fish & cheese sandwiches and IBC Creme Soda (the kind that comes in a glass bottle). We watched the kids run around, and laid down on a grass hill together to read. He read Maxim, I read Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons, by Lorna Landvik. I was expecting it to be another dumb grocery store girly book, but it’s turning out to be pretty good. In some parts, it reminds me of Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. If the subject matter isn’t necessarily something I’d normally be into, the authors character development and empathy with her own characters more than makes up for it. Totally a worthwhile read. Chad called to let us know he was on his way to drop Nathan off, and after he got lost due to Mike’s directions (honestly, I’m not sure why I told Mike to give Chad directions in the first place. Chad would have been better of just consulting the Magic 8 Ball. Mike isn’t exactly well known for his sense of direction), he finally showed up and dropped off Nathan. We had a great time at the park, and we stayed until it got dark out. By the time we got home, I was in fairly bad pain due to my spine problems and my wretched jaw, so I fell into bed and passed out for a few hours. I woke up in not much better shape, so I stayed up for a few hours and went back to sleep next to Mike. I love sleeping next to him. He’s a big snuggly snoring furry farting teddy bear, and he’s all mine.

I don’t remember waking up this morning. I was in horrible pain all night. I think I slept for about 14 hours, if not more. When I finally woke up, it was almost time for Nathan’s nap time, so when he fell asleep so did I. I’ve been falling in and out of sleep all day today. I just don’t feel myself. Mike isn’t here right now. He had to go home to take care of things. Understandable, really. I still miss him.

RJ-45 got poison ivy. If there’s not one thing going wrong with her, there’s another. She’s finally not oozing pus from her skin problems, and now her neck is swollen and horrible from poison ivy. wtf? I didn’t even know that dogs could get poison ivy.

I woke up this morning feeling like I’d been run over. As I stumbled into the bathroom for my morning shower, I accidentally caught a glance of myself in the mirror through my mostly closed eyes, still not used to the light. I looked as horrible as I felt. My eyes were puffy, my hair was in disarray, and I suddenly had a fairly good idea of what I was going to look like if I ever hit 40. That’s a depressing thought to be confronted with before my morning Red Bull.

Oh, and what’s this? My period started today. That explains a lot. I could already see my knees beginning to swell, and I could feel my head starting to ache. As soon as I dried off, I preemptively attacked the medicine cabinet, raping it of it’s midol, excedrine migraine, flexeril, and hydrocodone.

When I walked back into my room to figure out what fat-clothes I should wear today (this time of the month is never a good time to wear the Abercrombie jeans I had planned out the night before as I tend to bloat up like the goodyear blimp), my dog cowered in the corner, begging for even a little bit of attention. I couldn’t decide if I should laugh at her for being such an attention whore, or still be angry at the mess I had come home to the night before. As I remembered the poop, the ripped up books (including the one I was just starting to read), the destroyed Xbox game, the chewed up pajama pants (my favorite, the Old Navy angel print I’d had for 5 years), anger won out.

10 minutes left until Herm was ready to go. That’s rare, usually he’s waiting on me. I sat down on the couch and contemplated my laptop. No email. I suppose that’s good. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. I got up to feed RJ, knowing she was just going to shit everywhere the second I left. I took her for a short walk outside, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she’d be nice to me on today of all days and do her business outside. No luck.

5 minutes left. I packed my laptop and stared at my Icy Hot. I knew I was going to smell horrible afterwords, but I slathered it on my knees anyways. They were already starting to ache, and it was going to be at least another 20 minutes before the pills kicked in. My cell phone rang. It’s the boyfriend. Angry at RJ, angry at my knees, angry at my back, angry at the world, angry at my decision to stop smoking today, and especially angry at him, I decided not to answer. It wouldn’t be good for either of us if we had a conversation right now.

I shouldered my backpack (Jesus, my laptop weighs a ton. Dell Inspiron 9100’s are hardly a laptop. They are more of a ‘desktop replacement’) and walked out the door. When I climbed into the Explorer, I apologized to Herm for making his car smell like a geriatric ward.

We got on I-75 and faced the morning traffic. It had been raining out all morning, so it was worse than normal. I’d never wanted a cigarette more than I had wanted one at that moment. I didn’t give in, despite Herm’s offer of a Malboro Light (which is practically like smoking paper. Do they even have nicotine in them?). Today is going to be hell. I can feel it. Depression is not understanding how people can be happy by default.

The MRI results came back today. A nurse called me to talk about them. She said I have ‘minor degenerative disc damage and minor arthritis of the spine’. Minor? I had hoped they would find something that would explain all the pain I’m in. I just wanted to have some closure. I wanted to know if there was something I could do to fix this living hell, or if I just had to learn to deal and live with it. They still don’t know. I want to scream. I would have been happier if I had found out I had major degenerative disc damage. At least then I’d know I could get it fixed. I’d know what was wrong. I could do something. Now what? More tests? I really want to cry, but I can’t.