Computer Woes

I'm typing on Janice's computer. I begged her to let me borrow it, and she did, but will need it back on Wednesday.

Why did I need a computer? Because the new one I got promptly locked up on me and had to be shipped to Hewlett Packered to be repaired. I was using my old computer, which had been acting wonky for some time (I dislike Dell products, I really do), but it gave me the Blue Screen of Death last night. Nothing I did could rectify the problem.

With the car issue and, now the computer issue, I've really just about had it. Dunno why, but the Mighties seem hellbent on destroying my sanity and my will to live. I'm tired of seeing Aunt Tudi fade away every time I close my eyes. I'm tired of finding out I may have about $30 for food a month, since I'm finally eating a bit more since 2011. Guess that grief and stress diet I was on is ready to be reinstated now. I'm tired of begging for rides and made to feel guilty because I have to go somewhere. I'm tired of the dogs making a mess every single day and I'm tired of cleaning it up or not cleaning it up.

I'm fucking tired. I've come to the conclusion that I'm nothing but a serious fuck-up, a burden to the folks around me, and a source of depression to my friends here. No one needs me. Probably, no one wants me. I wouldn't want me either, if I were anyone around me.

I go to my therapist and psychiatrist on the 27th, so I need to hone my acting because there's no way I'm going back to that place because I'm suicidal. Those people did not help me. It was all an act then, and it's gonna be an act now. Screw it.

Father Unit

I've been thinking about my dad for the past few days. He died the day after his 60th birthday. Just had a massive heart attack and was found by my step mother at the kitchen table, where he was 99% of the time. He was already on hospice, so we knew it was gonna happen sooner rather than later. I stayed calm and collected during all of it, because Aunt Tudi was a basket case when he died. He was her closest sibling, and they talked at least every other day, which was amazing, considering he lived in Charleston, so the calls were long distance.

But now, I'm really starting to miss him...to the point I'm dreaming about him when I get to sleep. I want him back. I'd do anything to talk to him, to hug him, to laugh at Mel Brooks movies with him. Seven years after his death, I'm really starting to feel the impact of losing him. We had our problems with one another, but at least we had ironed out most everything before he passed. But I still want to hung him one last time. I want to do something to show how much I really loved him. I want to cry with him over the loss of Aunt Tudi.

And I can't.

The dreams are so real, I wake up thinking he's still alive. I get hit with grief when I realise he is not. There's no rest for the wicked I guess. I feel like death is all around me, and it's the only thing I think about.

I'm angry with god or goddess or whatever is out there, if there is anything out there. I scream at it, I cry at it, I shake my fist at it. I'm tired of Death cradling me. If only I could think of something else. I want to think about people who are still alive, even though they make it clear that I'm a nuisance.

But I'd rather have my father back.