This morning, technically yesterday morning, I woke up wearily ready for another day. I have a great group of researchers that send me the breaking news each day. I never asked anyone to do that, but I have a nice group of regulars who do. Things that were sent today were Laurie Peterson’s son who is in jail for murder being andcivilly sued. George Zimmerman “attacker” getting 20 years or whatever in prison when he got off for killing an unarmed kid. The local guy being tried for the leaving his child in a hot car and dying. Vicki’s cancer scam shit. Just a bunch of shit I do not want to spend my day talking about.
I’m not in a good place. As strange as it might sound I have bad shit that actually happens to me to.
I feel broken by this episode of Real Housewives of Orange County. I feel broken for lashing out at the person I know who used to live in Orange County over politics. I feel broken because I can’t find a physician who will listen to me when I try to find the CAUSE and not the mother fucking symptoms and who doesn’t blame me for feeling like shit all the goddamn time. I feel broken. I feel broken when all of you have real problems and everyone tells me I am “just depressed” as if it is something I choose to be.
I AM TRYING REALLY REALLY REALLY HARD NOT TO BE DEPRESSED!
But I am in spite of myself. Or maybe because of myself.
I don’t know. If you go back into the archives here, like plenty of people have you will find me having breakdowns about childhood issues that came back up during menopause. I got trolled a LOT for that on Twitter. We’re not supposed to discuss that they said. Why would she drunkenly share all of that, they said, Is that what is wrong with me? I don’t know. Something is. I am a broken vessel.
I have a dear friend who sought out a great therapist for me in Atlanta. And sent a credit card to pay for my therapy. And while it helped, mostly because I got out of bed because she was very pricey and he was paying so I had to bathe and go once a week… but I liked her and she was solution based…. but I know what I need to do. I need to just swim with no arms, I need to walk with no legs, I need to make better nutritional choices. I am the only one who can help me. I may be a lot of things but the one thing I have going for me is I am smart. I am smarter than you and the therapist. I am. I know the drill. Sometimes I grow arms to swim. Sometime I grow legs to walk. Sometimes, without telling you guys I read good books in between posting. Sometimes I am inspired. Sometimes I am sane. Sometimes what few friends I have sigh with relief.
I’ve been trying.
I’VE DONE TRIED.
I tried to move you guys to something better than Bravo. ANYTHING BETTER THAN THIS MISOGYNIST BULLSHIT.
Two, maybe three times a week I recap this shit because it pays the bills. I’ve offered you better options that I farm out to really nice people who volunteer to write for my site for free. There is not nearly the same amount of interest.
I’m have been and continue to have a problem recapping this shit. It’s misogynistic bullshit. Tonight may be the final straw for me.
Interestingly enough I heard it was the final straw for Meghan too and that is why she is setting up the crib with the scary chandelier in St. Louis and not here. And if so more power to her. It was always Jim who wanted his wife to be on TV anyway.
I may just start sharing more stories of me and my fucked up life and see how well that is received. And if you all tell your friends, may be I can just go somewhere far from this ghetto where there are no TVs and write.
In the mean time. I will wake up tomorrow and recap whatever shit comes on.