What Brought You Here?

Sunday, May 25, 2008

I don't feel good.
I am not happy.
It's not okay.
Everything is wrong.
I alone am not acceptable.

I don't even really want to eat. I just keep bingeing because that's the only way to remember who I am. Forget who I am. Without that protective barrier of cakecrumbs and puke between me and reality I will fall into the abyss. There's no oxygen and no light there.

The only places worse have the words "mental health" or "psychiatric" in their titles.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Woe is me, car owner

Are there precision tools and advanced technical training required in order to shatter the idiot panel in your modern American locomotive? Or do you think I could do just as well myself with calm hands, a steady eye, and a mid-weight hammer?

I've never had a car with such a yen to fortel doom- and such bad timing with it- before. "Low tire"? First of all, how the fuck do you how many PSI are in my tires? I'm just dicking around here, but I'm willing to bet we could pull out a tape measuring and determine that you-IL "low tire"- are actually further from any of my four tires when I am properly seated and buckled with hands at 10 and 12. Further-fucking-more- why didn't this come up a couple of months ago when it was discovered that one of my tires was as low as 15PSI? Is that not low?

Or are you telling me about my spare? You know, I may be 10 feet away from the spare tire, but you're 11. I think I have a greater level of sensitively.

Of course so as not to leave "low tire" feeling exposed and awkward, "antilock" lit up at the same time. Where the fuck did all these lights come from? I've had the piece of shit 3 years now; if this were the result of a group of drunk Chinese New Year revelers staggering in late, I could almost understand.

Yeah, almost. I'm sure this sure of thing happens all the time at GM.

The one neat thing about brakes I've learned from driving my way through 4 used American pieces of shit is this, though: anti-lock, shmanti-lock, brakes pads, maxi pads, brake lines, sprinkler systems. . .it only really matters if you plan to stop.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Institutionalization is not Housing

Attention! The Good Ship Lollypop has registered a direct hit! All personnel to the Reality Tugboats and paddle for shore!

Yes, my lease is running out. Yes, I was foolish enough to bring up my housing situation as a conundrum with which the county mental social worker might help me. No, hospitalization is not a housing option. And fuck what you want to say about my health, you can't look at me and make a prognosis.

I've already addressed this. Fuck "supportive housing". Double fuck a nursing home.

I swear to god I thought your job description- attached to the "Our Vision, Our Mission" section of the facility for which you work- was to foster the maximum possible safe level of independence for us fuxtored people. You know, in accordance with the most popular beliefs about how mental health care being practiced today?

I've read a lot of the propaganda. Nowhere does it advocate revoking any aspect of an adult's autonomy to promote progress or even tease out stability. So quit swooning at me over every shitty boarding house with a nursing staff that has a free bed. I'm still a fully enfranchised fucking adult; stop suggesting I forfeit the right to un/lock my own door or I'll. . . I'll. . . I'll run away goddamnit!