Post 034: Not much to report
Still haven't heard from the doctor. I should probably go drop by my family doctor, whenever his freaking office is open since apparently the holiday season is fucking nigh.
On the plus side, I have gotten about four fairly creepy text messages from a random who seems to think I'm "blessed by god!! god looooooovess yooooooooooooooooooooooou". This ridiculous sentence took up two messages.
Maybe that wasn't a plus side at all.
Oh, I work at 7am today! ...nope, not a plus, as 7am is in less than five hours. And my arm is still fucked, and I still have to be there using my arm. Which will only heal properly if I rest the damned thing. For apparently six to eight weeks. Oh yeah, I did go to the walk-in clinic, but the doctor I saw didn't think there was anything seriously wrong, but I got nine x-rays done just in case. Since he doesn't interpret them (and apparently good radiologists are hard to come by?) I've got to wait until another dude can look to make sure nothing's fucked. Which means that if something is wrong, I got to use my arm and make it worse.
I'm just frustrated by the whole fucking thing. I got my ass busted by work for not following proper policy (and the store manager just happened to be in the office when I let personnel know, so he let me know I'm a tool too which is just fucking awesome), I can't get a straight answer from a doctor just a bottle of painkillers and a pat on the head (PS the crazy warning label makes me not want to take them- apparently can make fucking holes in my digestive system?! Also apparently I should have informed my doctor of any "past alcohol or drug history" as this can create major crazy as well. Annnnd I can't take them at work or I'll fall asleep. The first time I took one I fell asleep twenty minutes later... for twelve solid hours), and honestly? It barely hurts now! All this fucking issue for something that is honestly not a big deal. I banged my arm, it's not broken, it looks like it's only a hematoma -AKA a fucking blood clot- and since I'm not a hemophiliac and this thing probably won't migrate into my fucking brain or lung since it's not in an organ I'm fine. My arm just fucking hurts when I overuse it, and if I hadn't piped up like a baby about a little pain (well and not being able to move my arm from pain but still) then I wouldn't be fearing for my fucking job. Or my sanity.
I just quit okay? I quit life. I'm frustrated and annoyed and all this drama when I am currently hating the festivities of the season is not making for a happy bumblebee. To make everything more fun, my sister is coming home for a couple days this weekend which means more guilt-tripping and forcing me to confront things I'd rather not right now. Like my mounting school debts that stiiiiiiiill aren't paid. By the way, that's a whole can of worms I would rather not think about. I can't deal with Christmas at the malls so of course I haven't bought anything for people except my brother and sister which means more guilt-trips unless I go tomorrow and get everything done while fighting through the masses of other idiots...
And I forgot to pay my phone bill yesterday which means more stupid shit I've got to sort out.
I fail at life, thus I quit.
Bee
PS. And I thought life was hard before I had all this shit to do. If I could go back in time and tell my sixteen year old self to get a job, get some study habits, and cut back on the weed and booze... Well that's spilled milk for ya.
[edit at 3:25am]
Oh and I forgot to mention that this whole thing is my fault since I'm a fat lazy careless wench. I need to work out to build up my strength so that I don't drop things in the future, work harder since accidents happen less when you're at work more (best logic ever), and it wouldn't have happened if someone else was around or if I was more careful. Thanks mom, I'm glad you're on my side here, and so supportive.
Basically this has taught me to never again ask for help. Clearly the lessons I learned about never asking for help in the past had worn off, but their impact has been re-affirmed in my life! Thank you work, health care school and family for reminding me how much help you've been in the past and will continue to be in the future. I know I can always come to you if I need a kick in the kidneys when I'm down from a punch to the throat. Metaphorically of course.
No one has ever unconditionally loved and supported me. And I'm probably being a big baby about this too, but I see the world around me and I see other people receiving that and I wonder what it is about me that just screams "abandon me". Is there some sort of tattoo on my forehead that only the people I'm supposed to be able to trust can see? 'Friends and family, abandon this wench for she is destined to fail' is a bit long for one person's forehead; maybe it's a sort of caption thing floating above my head.
And you know what it's my own stupid fault anyway that people keep leaving.
It was my fault that Nuria won't talk to me anymore since I slept with her husband's housemate. It's my fault none of my other friends from Waterloo can't talk to me since I'm never there or on MSN. It's my fault my sister thinks I'm a failure since I fucking am: practically failing first year, and never talking to her, and not having my shit together when she's got her goals and dreams and is doing them, and generally being a fuckwad. It's my fault no one from high school talks to me because I went away to school and was shitty about keeping in touch and haven't gotten back in the habit. It's my fault my brother doesn't confide in me because I've always been a dick to him since I'm the middle kid and he's the only boy and I was always closer with Sarah (look how that panned out) and I never know that anything's even wrong in his life until I hear it from our mother weeks later and I can't fucking help and I feel like a worthless human being where he's concerned. It's my fault my mom has to work at an awful job with no opportunity for improvement since I told her I didn't want to move somewhere else and didn't even think that there'd be more reasons than just 'nicer house but different school' and she'd be way better off without us kids holding her back from getting an education and being a teacher, and I'm a terrible disappointment when compared to my sister so I don't blame her for not caring about me. And my father didn't even fight for the right to have custody of us, which is certainly partly my fault since I'm a disappointing and worthless piece of turd (I have re-evaluated my general worth and decided to downgrade myself from human being to excrement). I scare away any potential 'lovers' due to excessive clinging and neediness and lack of understanding, not to mention unattractiveness.
It must be something wrong with me. People only care about me when I'm good or when it's convenient or when I'm pretending that I'm not this contemptibly inadequate thing.
On the plus side, I have gotten about four fairly creepy text messages from a random who seems to think I'm "blessed by god!! god looooooovess yooooooooooooooooooooooou". This ridiculous sentence took up two messages.
Maybe that wasn't a plus side at all.
Oh, I work at 7am today! ...nope, not a plus, as 7am is in less than five hours. And my arm is still fucked, and I still have to be there using my arm. Which will only heal properly if I rest the damned thing. For apparently six to eight weeks. Oh yeah, I did go to the walk-in clinic, but the doctor I saw didn't think there was anything seriously wrong, but I got nine x-rays done just in case. Since he doesn't interpret them (and apparently good radiologists are hard to come by?) I've got to wait until another dude can look to make sure nothing's fucked. Which means that if something is wrong, I got to use my arm and make it worse.
I'm just frustrated by the whole fucking thing. I got my ass busted by work for not following proper policy (and the store manager just happened to be in the office when I let personnel know, so he let me know I'm a tool too which is just fucking awesome), I can't get a straight answer from a doctor just a bottle of painkillers and a pat on the head (PS the crazy warning label makes me not want to take them- apparently can make fucking holes in my digestive system?! Also apparently I should have informed my doctor of any "past alcohol or drug history" as this can create major crazy as well. Annnnd I can't take them at work or I'll fall asleep. The first time I took one I fell asleep twenty minutes later... for twelve solid hours), and honestly? It barely hurts now! All this fucking issue for something that is honestly not a big deal. I banged my arm, it's not broken, it looks like it's only a hematoma -AKA a fucking blood clot- and since I'm not a hemophiliac and this thing probably won't migrate into my fucking brain or lung since it's not in an organ I'm fine. My arm just fucking hurts when I overuse it, and if I hadn't piped up like a baby about a little pain (well and not being able to move my arm from pain but still) then I wouldn't be fearing for my fucking job. Or my sanity.
I just quit okay? I quit life. I'm frustrated and annoyed and all this drama when I am currently hating the festivities of the season is not making for a happy bumblebee. To make everything more fun, my sister is coming home for a couple days this weekend which means more guilt-tripping and forcing me to confront things I'd rather not right now. Like my mounting school debts that stiiiiiiiill aren't paid. By the way, that's a whole can of worms I would rather not think about. I can't deal with Christmas at the malls so of course I haven't bought anything for people except my brother and sister which means more guilt-trips unless I go tomorrow and get everything done while fighting through the masses of other idiots...
And I forgot to pay my phone bill yesterday which means more stupid shit I've got to sort out.
I fail at life, thus I quit.
Bee
PS. And I thought life was hard before I had all this shit to do. If I could go back in time and tell my sixteen year old self to get a job, get some study habits, and cut back on the weed and booze... Well that's spilled milk for ya.
[edit at 3:25am]
Oh and I forgot to mention that this whole thing is my fault since I'm a fat lazy careless wench. I need to work out to build up my strength so that I don't drop things in the future, work harder since accidents happen less when you're at work more (best logic ever), and it wouldn't have happened if someone else was around or if I was more careful. Thanks mom, I'm glad you're on my side here, and so supportive.
Basically this has taught me to never again ask for help. Clearly the lessons I learned about never asking for help in the past had worn off, but their impact has been re-affirmed in my life! Thank you work, health care school and family for reminding me how much help you've been in the past and will continue to be in the future. I know I can always come to you if I need a kick in the kidneys when I'm down from a punch to the throat. Metaphorically of course.
No one has ever unconditionally loved and supported me. And I'm probably being a big baby about this too, but I see the world around me and I see other people receiving that and I wonder what it is about me that just screams "abandon me". Is there some sort of tattoo on my forehead that only the people I'm supposed to be able to trust can see? 'Friends and family, abandon this wench for she is destined to fail' is a bit long for one person's forehead; maybe it's a sort of caption thing floating above my head.
And you know what it's my own stupid fault anyway that people keep leaving.
It was my fault that Nuria won't talk to me anymore since I slept with her husband's housemate. It's my fault none of my other friends from Waterloo can't talk to me since I'm never there or on MSN. It's my fault my sister thinks I'm a failure since I fucking am: practically failing first year, and never talking to her, and not having my shit together when she's got her goals and dreams and is doing them, and generally being a fuckwad. It's my fault no one from high school talks to me because I went away to school and was shitty about keeping in touch and haven't gotten back in the habit. It's my fault my brother doesn't confide in me because I've always been a dick to him since I'm the middle kid and he's the only boy and I was always closer with Sarah (look how that panned out) and I never know that anything's even wrong in his life until I hear it from our mother weeks later and I can't fucking help and I feel like a worthless human being where he's concerned. It's my fault my mom has to work at an awful job with no opportunity for improvement since I told her I didn't want to move somewhere else and didn't even think that there'd be more reasons than just 'nicer house but different school' and she'd be way better off without us kids holding her back from getting an education and being a teacher, and I'm a terrible disappointment when compared to my sister so I don't blame her for not caring about me. And my father didn't even fight for the right to have custody of us, which is certainly partly my fault since I'm a disappointing and worthless piece of turd (I have re-evaluated my general worth and decided to downgrade myself from human being to excrement). I scare away any potential 'lovers' due to excessive clinging and neediness and lack of understanding, not to mention unattractiveness.
It must be something wrong with me. People only care about me when I'm good or when it's convenient or when I'm pretending that I'm not this contemptibly inadequate thing.