Title? What Title?

I began this hours agos, but am just now posting it. Meh, Life happens,

I have so much to say that I can’t even begin to be intelligent and coherent and articulate right now. Honestly, I just feel like I could scream and throw shit and hit shit and hurt myself and fall the fuck apart. I just can’t take my life right now.

Yes, I did have really good parts of my day today and I won’t ignore those amazing hours, but I can’t ignore the painful aspects either. It’s so sad and maddening that the painful parts continually outweigh the happiness. I don’t even know what the fuck to do anymore.

I’ve been without mental health care since October 2014-not that the Western clinical model was doing much for me anyway. This has NOT been by my doing. My therapist left the community health center to go into a smaller practice where they don’t take my poor person insurance just like no one else in private or smaller practices. I’ve been busting my ass for fucking months to find a therapist and psychiatrist that will take my insurance and treat me and it’s been impossible. They either don’t care about poor people or they hear my history and diagnoses and they’re done. Apparently I’m so fucked up that they think I’m beyond helping. I’m clearly so damaged from all the abuse, and I’m too poor, that I’m hopeless. No one thinks I’m worth taking on. So yeah, every day has been shitty and rocky for me for the last several years for many reasons I will not disclose, but these last few months have been awful in ways I can’t even begin to verbalize.

I’m mourning so many countless things right now. At this moment I’m mourning the two careers that I fought for so hard that have been stolen from me because of sexism, patriarchy, misogyny, ableism, racism, colonialism, and elitism. I’m not saying one can’t overcome some of those barriers, but when you have all of those to contend to it’s simply too much for anyone.

I’ll be 36 on June 12th and all I can hear is my miserable father telling me how I’m fat, ugly, stupid, worthless, and if I’m not perfect no one will love me. I also can’t get past my mother who chose a shitty man (instead of me) who didn’t want me around because she was too selfish to care for me. She was too selfish to be there for me when I told her I was raped when I was only 14. She was too selfish to listen to me when I tried to tell her about the abuse I suffered at the hands of my father, my classmates, the misogynistic boyfriends I had in the past and I have had up until the last year, etc. I don’t blame her for the abuse others’ inflicted upon me, but I do blame her for not giving a fucking shit!

My mom knows that I finally snapped and tried to kill myself this time last year. She knows about a bit about all the horrible things that I don’t dare talk about. She knows/knew about my birthday on June 12th. Yet, I never heard from her and I still haven’t.

If you ever wonder why I’m a bit lacking in the trust department this is why. I will say though that the fact that I still write, I still lobby, I still attempt to make friends and even date, shows that there’s still a fire inside me. It may be in serious need of tending to, but I’ve managed to keep them from completely breaking my spirit and soul in two.

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