WARNING: RAGE DUMP!
Up early. Went to bed early. Trying to get ready for daylight savings time. What a modern inconvenience, yet they still use it. Sometimes I think the powers that be use it just to annoy the common man. Just to make sure there’s at least twice a year that someone can ‘catch them out’ at whatever. Sleeping in, most likely. Arrest them for being late! We’ve designated that the sun should move at THIS time, not that time, and you’re off. Damn you to hell!
I hate the entire concept of daylight savings time.
So. Physically feeling a bit better; my throat doesn’t hurt quite so much and I don’t feel like I’ll fall asleep right after waking up. Everything else…*shakes head* I just don’t trust it. I don’t trust feeling good. I don’t trust good things that happen in my life. My life is misery from the word go. Good things don’t just suddenly happen, and if they do I’m fucking suspicious. What’s the set up? ‘Cause you know there is one. Get me to rely on something – a person, a time, a thing, a medication – and then rip it away from me. That’s what life does. So don’t rely. Don’t trust. Don’t depend on anyone or anything because eventually, like it or not, you get let down.
THAT’S the pile of shit in my head that got me out of bed. Fear. Anxiety. Worry. Can’t stop it. Not sure if I should even TRY to stop it. Bad shit is gonna happen sooner or later; why not be mentally prepped for it?
My core is still set at unhappy and I can’t figure out why. There is nothing that’s triggering me, nothing in my face that I’m trying to NOT look at. And don’t fucking say bipolar. Fucking doctors fucked that one up. I’m not sure if I’m fucking going back to see any of them ever again. Fuck them all. Other than my rheumatologist. HER I’ll see. But everyone else can kiss my motherfucking ass.
The only thing that holds me back from writing that in ten foot high neon letters across my forehead so NO doctor is ever confused again is my brother. He still thinks I need medication of some sort. At least to take care of the depression. I’ve got to brave the goddamn doctors again at some point for him. Because I promised. I promised I’d get help, and I promised I wouldn’t just kill myself while he’s still alive.
I wish I didn’t make those promises.
Wish I could go back and never say the word ‘bipolar’ to my huisarts or anyone else, ever.
These goddamn pretend people….I can’t fucking stand them. Celebrities who pretend. Give me a fucking break! Yeah, I’m sure it’s real fucking hard with all your goddamn money and fifty fucking people around you trying to make you feel better and keeping a goddamn eye on you all the fucking time. I’m sure it’s real fucking hard to wake up in your big fucking mansion on your big fucking bed and feel so fucking empty.
I got my tiny violin out for you and everything.
And last night….The BBC is running some fucking stupid show called ‘Rich, Famous, and Homeless’. That fucking confused me; rich and famous, sure. But homeless? WTF? Then I read the info on the show. OH! It’s a bunch of celebrities who are pretending to be homeless for a week. Getting their clothes dirty. I’m sure that’s real fucking hard, knowing that in a week or a month their time is up and they can return to their fucking homes. Yeah. Gives you that real homeless feeling, doesn’t it? Stupid motherfuckers.
And the world..Fucking hell. Fuck you, Turkey. You can’t fucking hold the goddamn world hostage. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck you, right wingers. Fuck you, Trump supporters. Fuck you, jihadists. I need a super sized barbed wire dildo for all you fuckers that DESERVE to get fucked up the ass. I agree with these assholes on only one point: the world would be better off without some people. They all point their fingers outwards; I’m pointing at them. It’s our only fundamental difference at this juncture. Because all of the hate they spew, all of the horrible things they’d like to do to everyone else, I want to do to them. Stomp them down, kill them all, take away everything they have and line them up against the fucking WALL!! When it gets right down to it, it’s impossible to live with these people. They think they have full rights to kill, maim, beat, use, and fuck over everyone. They think it’s okay to dump oil anywhere, to burn everything up, to use it to make one more fucking golden backscratcher to satisfy that slight itch up their ass while they order another fucking drink from the
lackey slave who’s lucky to have his job. It’s no longer a ‘don’t react the way they do’ situation, because if you just let it go, if you say it’s not your problem, you’re gonna get steamrolled.
Maybe that’s better in the long run. Let one of those assholes do it. Kill everyone. Cleanse the world in fucking fire. I’ll be dead, one of the first on the line because there’s no goddamn use for me. Too old to have children, too bad of arthritis to bother saving. They’ll just kill me in the first fucking wave. I’ve known that for a long goddamn time.
And I say if I’m going down, I’m going down fighting. Fuck you, fuck surrender, fuck giving up. If my righteous anger makes you uneasy, I’m so fucking sorry (not). Put a bullet straight in my head, then. You’ll probably be doing me a fucking favor.
So goddamn ANGRY! Uncontrolled, blind rage at the sheer STUPIDITY of it all.
What fucking category of mental illness does THAT fall into?
Or is that just smart?