I almost hesitated to make a thread about this, since I'm not really sure what can be said, but... I guess, here goes.
I've got some medical issues, I'm pretty certain. Some of you may recall years ago that I was hospitalized due to my appendix going off like a grenade, leading to a month of tubes and drugs and all manner of other horrible things. I survived of course, but now the plumbing don't work so good and I have to be very careful of what I eat, otherwise I end up in excruciating pain. Often, I end up like that anyway. Secondly, and this is even more embarrassing to admit to anyone anywhere (although some of you more observant folk may have noticed already) that my brain don't work so good either, as it were. Needless to say, I can't remember any time in the past 10 years or so where I felt normal, or even consistently happy for more than a day or a few hours. As time has gone on, even things I love give me less joy and I find it more and more difficult to concentrate on even simple tasks. I used to pride myself on my attention span; the latest Halo novel sits unfinished on my shelf. Not because it was bad or uninteresting, I just, I couldn't do it. I don't know why. I was never the biggest fan of crowds or large groups of people, but now I feel incredibly tense even when I'm out amongst people I'm familiar with. I don't sleep well or enough and I find myself literally drifting in and out of consciousness even when I'm doing something. Of course between all of this are bouts of simmering anger.
I recognize these things as serious problems, because they add up and as you might imagine, make it very difficult to function. It was my intent to talk to my family doctor about these problems, but she retired and now it's practically impossible to find another one who will take new patients.
My more immediate (and wonderfully new) problem is that my parents have decided that I have some kind of "attitude problem" and that my interests would best be served by being kicked out of the house at the end of September. My job does not pay enough to sustain even the cheapest rent in this city (Really, it should still be called a town; we have no central core and public transit is a joke here) and other jobs require 5 years experience or a degree in order to shovel pig shit. Literally.
I have no one I can stay with and no one I can ask for help, I don't have a support system of any kind in place. I'm going to see if the night crew at work is looking for extra people, but it was hard enough getting hours before the recession; they've been letting people go and I have to fight with Patrick Fucking Swayze in order to keep just one additional shift.
Oddly I don't know if I even have the energy to even care about any of this. Someone once said, "Voyager is crap, but in a kind of amiable, undemanding kind of way. For a ship that's supposedly lost tens of thousands of light-years from home, everyone's very laid-back about it, and after a while you can't help falling into that same chilled groove about the whole thing. "So, Janeway just made another insane bipolar decision that fucked up their chances of getting home. Ehh." I feel like I'm on Voyager. I will likely end up living on the street come the end of September and even as I look for places to live and a job to support that, I feel like I don't even really care. Yet I still feel stressed enough to want to vent.
I don't know what any of this means or what I want or really what the point of writing this was.
"I'm going to shove both of these up your ass."