I get really bad without having Real People on hand.

I slept for a few hours Friday, I think. Like key tones, I’m not depressed - in fact, I’m manic. And psychotic. I had a ‘lost reality’ period an hour or so ago but I’m back and grooving again.

During the next three days I will be in bed for all but 30-minutes a day. 15-minutes to shower, 15-minutes for all other activities. I can sympathize/empathize with shattered sanity in re finances. I keep digging myself so deep in debt that I will never catch up with my bankruptcy legal fees. I keep thinking that I can do these things on my own, but that’s a huge lie.

I have health issues that were supposed to kill me 15, 13 and 12-years-ago, but here I am. Brutally disfigured but loved irregularly. I’m actually a little vain about my body but, like shattered, I usually binge on one item at the first of the month (when my SSDI is deposited) - like a giant chocolate freezer ‘cake’ made up of ten different chocolate textures: I cut one slice and keep going back for more until I eat the whole thing, risking a diabetic coma, and then I get sick.

I do it over and over again. The spending money that I don’t have. I don’t have rent money. Or utility money. Or money for food. The latter means no chocolate cakes. That’s good. You either get the repeated compulsive behavior or not. It took me six years to go through $3.6 million - all (not) going to continuous education.

Everything that needs doing, all of the things that need doing, I think about them. I talk about them (wistfully, now... “one day I need to clean my storage closet...”). I have and haven’t been this way for a long time. I was never ‘good with money,’ but I spent decades accomplishing ‘things’ (maybe esoteric things?).

Why is everything so hard? Three of the five people in my life know of my financial woes. Crap. I need an internet hobby. Where’s all that free porn? I need some air.