Today is going to be rough

I thought that today was going to be okay. I have to do the last wish of my father today which is to plant the tulips on my mother’s grave. I couldn’t do it when I wanted to do it because I had hand surgery. Technically, I am still not supposed to do it but its starting to get too late to plant so I have to do it today before the ground gets way too hard. I thought I was going to be somewhat indifferent but now I am bawling. I need to bring my dads ashes with me just so he knows I did it. I was going to put a little in the ground but I don’t have a urn… he’s just in a baggie and if I open it, it will make a mess and I have nothing to dump it in. It’s bad enough that the bags are sitting in a plastic storage box.

For fuck sake. I need some fucking help. I NEED SOME HELP.

I’m so lonely.

Small Things.

So let’s see if this works.

This is the first time that I have tried typing since I had surgery on my hand on Thrusday. I don’t know if it was successful or not. Right now its sore and bugging but at least the swelling is down enough for me to type it seems, albeit much more slowly and with more errors than usual. I still have a soft dressing on it and the first knuckle of my thumb is still MIA due to swelling but hopefully this was all worth it in the end. I just won’t know probably until December. I can’t lift anything heavier than 10lbs with that hand until then. But if I can, if it’s fixed? I can lift weights again and that will bring a small joy back into my life. Well we’ll see. Next Friday I go get my ankle looked at. My thought is probably its going to be a call for physical therapy then when that doesn’t work (It won’t, the ligaments are fully torn) then it will be surgery there too.

But small wins, eh?

I don’t really have much to say. I do but nobody cares. Nobody listens to me. People only want you in their life if you will fuck them, give them money, do something for them or are fake happy 24/7. Being an old, fat, ugly single woman past menopause means that I have no value to society anymore. ((shrugs)). But I didn’t have value before except for the reasons above so in actually, I never had value to anyone. Nobody ever cared for me. Nobody ever will and finally, FINALLY, I have accepted that. That’s why I quit social media, emailing people, texting people… they never spoke back to me or reached out to me so I knew where I stood. I just never accepted it. Now I do.

It sucks, I was totally alone in the hospital which was more embarrassing than anything else. You know you are pathetic when nobody cares enough about you to be there when you get out of surgery. It was embaressings more than it hurt.

Such is my life. But at least I can type again. Small things, I guess.

Nobody likes Jim Jordan except maybe for Aliens.

Is anyone surprised that this dingleberry isn’t getting the votes to be house speaker? I mean he did worse on the second round of voting than than the first! I mean, I really wanted more time spent on discussing if aliens are real and Hunter Biden’s sex life. That’s way more important than:

  • The US and Global Economy
  • Immigration
  • Global Climate Change
  • The war in Gaza and the Ukrane

All the MAGAs have to go but unfortunately due to the poor education of US citizens where it counts, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. At least gerrymandering’s time might be up… maybe… maybe… I trust nothing these days when it comes the the US Goverment.

You can’t save everyone or everything.

Maybe that’s the lesson… or at least one of them. You can’t save everyone or everything. No one can and if they say they can-

They’re lying.

I think maybe that’s what I was trying to do even though I said I wasn’t. Or maybe, closer to truth, I used to try to save everyone, everything, then I said I stopped but I still was trying to. Like I tried the save my dad from going to the morgue. Like I tried to save the things in my parent apartment from being thrown out. Like I tried to save the sick plants that my parents left.

I can’t save everyone/everything. I have to choose..

Every day is a revelation to my psyche and emotions. I’m still sad and raw and angry and disappointed. I’ve move on from my parents a little bit. There I’m just really sad because I’ll never get a birthday gift or card again. Which brings me to point two:

Only three people reached out to me since everything happened, happened. Now there were people I was expecting to who didn’t. Again, I really don’t have any close friends. What is really hurtful though is that its so clear to me that I am more people’s friends than they are mine and people I really want to be friends with don’t like me like I do. They just want to be aquantences and that’s honestly their right. It’s hurtful to know that the vast majority of people really don’t care for me but I can’t make them care. If the only time they’re paying attention to me is because they think I will be a repeat customer of theirs or they might get to see my vagina (this doesn’t happen anymore but it used to), then they’re not a friend. I know this. I knew this. I just didn’t realise how many people there were in my life like that however.

I’ve always been trying to be part of community. I wanted to be part of the BJJ community, I thought I was. I was an outsider there. People didn’t really like me or respect me there. They liked that I would help them all the time but they didn’t like me. Same thing for scuba diving. I kept trying to find friends and thought I had some but the people I thought were my friends aren’t. They’ve only been around because they think they can make more money off me or because they felt sorry for me. That really sucks because I love BJJ and I love diving- both are things that require other people. Both have been miserable when other people are involved. I’m doing my best to figure out how to do that thing that you’re not supposed to do which is dive alone. I do it in the quarry here but that place sucks ass. I want to go cave diving alone (don’t start with me about this, really). If I don’t come back, nobody cares and I don’t care. It’s a horrible death to be sure, but nobody is going to be harmed by my death but me so let me do it. Don’t save me. I don’t want to be saved. This life isn’t worth prolonging.

I don’t want to get sick and die. I don’t want to have pain or fear as I die. But I don’t mind dying. I’m not trying to prolong my life. If I get cancer, give me the morphine and maybe I’ll Thelma and Louise it but it will just be me. I want to enjoy myself on my way out but I don’t want to prolong this life because this life has been shit.

Now, mind you- I’ve done some really incredible things, really fucking incredible (nobody cares). I’ve seen some cool things, really fucking cool but the “good” part of my life- not sure when that was. I had good moments, but did I have a good life? I guess that relative. I never felt loved, secure or cared for. I never had a person who was ride or die for me or went to war for me. I’ve always been an outsider or alone. I’ve NEVER been accepted for who and what I was but was always expected to conform.

Let me tell you something, being a strong willed, intelligent, resourceful woman who wasn’t drop dead gorgeous and never was good with money sucks. And no, me not being good with money wasn’t 100% my fault, not by a long shot. I wasn’t taught well at all in that department and when I finally learned, it was far, far too late. Still, having financial security wouldn’t have made my life happier- besides maybe buying friends for longer and pretending that I mattered to some people.

I don’t matter to anyone. And I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and crying and yadda, yadda, yadda. It really is what it is. Suck it up buttercup. We heard this story before. Let’s listen to another one.

So here it is:

I 100% have divorced myself from Social Media… I mean I do read some things that I find interesting or inspirational but people I’ve given up on. That’s not to say that I won’t return to social media but it’s going to be just to make money from people. It’s going to be a one way street. Matter of fact, maybe that’s what I should do… hire a social media manager.

That would require income first and that’s my second biggest issue behind “my wittel feelings”.