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MuddyBoots · Feb 25, 2025, 11:15 AM

(This is really more of a solutionless rant)

"You look good!"

Thanks.

Possible trigger:

I've had two meals in the past four days, went to planet crazy for four hours following drug use two days ago, have quit cutting not because I am trying but because I simply do not have much more room without new cuts intersecting old ones some of which should have been stitched up and some of which are clearly infected, am so dissociated most of the time I get surprised when I realize I'm in a place doing a thing, I threatened somebody, and I'm "isolating because for any good interaction I've had with any specific other person comes at least three bad" (like being called "little miss anorexic" and told it was my fault a 200lbs dude squished some tender PMSing boobs because I was being a bytch without a skirt. If I was in a skirt it would've been my fault because "I was asking for it" though. Except he also bought me food once, so, not a horrible person I guess.)

but since I finally showered this morning and still, miraculously, am breathing, I guess I'm fantastic. I guess these past 4 months of HELL have been because last Friday there was confusion with the housing authority. I guess all the fking struggles I've had in my life are because I signed a piece of paper saying "look at my criminal record if you want" today. Yup. All of it. The reason I freaked out in 7th grade history? Because I don't know what kind of blender I want to get when I move... if I move. The reason I started making myself throw up when I was 16? Clearly because I have some decisions to make soon about which books I should bring.

Jeez... no, you know what's stressing me out? NOT moving. NOTHING happening. This whole friggin process taking SO DAMN LONG! The fact that NO ONE is giving me any hint that I have to do anything other than "we need your criminal record." Well, how do I get it to you? "Call this number." I did, they transferred me to you. "Let me transfer you." Ok. "We have your criminal record." Sweet. Then yesterday "we need your criminal record." Wtf. It's not like I have copies laying around and it's not like y'all have given me an address or phone number or email or website or ANYTHING. You just say "call NH housing" and we start this merry go round again.

You know what's stressing me out? Having to go to that ******* office every day and getting behind a bunch of school busses (triggers for me) and dealing with total morons on the roads (including, today, tweakers in the middle of the street... WELCOME TO SPRING BABY!)

What's stressing me out is trying to decide which of the three knives I have in my backpack I should slice my throat with, and you saying I look great because I took a fking shower and put pants on.

I give up. Not going back for meds anymore. Not showing up to anymore appointments. I'll answer the phone when they call so they don't do a wellness check, but that's it. The only reason I'm doing shytty is because I don't have any environment that feels safe to be in. If they can't help me with that--which apparently they can't because, what, three years now they've been saying they'd help me?--then I don't need them.