Yarfing all over the blog again to prevent me using something as a projectile that I shouldn’t. Screen readers, wanna skip it? H to jump to the next heading is your happyfriend, sighties, use those mice like they were intended.
I have officially hit the point where “I can’t fucking take it any fucking more,” writes, publishes, and sells the book on exactly how I feel right now. You, person, can sit there and lah lah lah, I’m nooooot liiiiiiistening, while I complain for months and months and months, on end, about mold. Filth. Dirty living conditions. Disrespectful treatment of my family. Ok, maybe sometimes my mother deserves it. But my grandmother didn’t deserve to have a spray bottle yanked out of her hand last year, nor did she deserve to be screamed and yelled at by the student who was my roommate at that time.
Nobody deserves to be ignored when your job is to help them. Nobody deserves to sit there in the middle of February, freezing their tits off in the middle of the night, while you sleep at home in your nice cozy warm bed. Why was I freezing in the middle of the night in mid February? Because the mold smell in my room was so awful that I had to keep the window open 24/7 just so I didn’t throw up! But as long as you’re happy, nobody else has to be happy, right? Obviously, that’s how certain people think. I’m not saying anymore here, because I fear for my personal safety and mental health. I honestly thought briefly about checkin’ myself into a hospital and gettin’ some downers shoved down my face. Only reason I didn’t do it was because it’d get people involved who didn’t need to be involved and hopefully won’t need to. I’m sick of discrimination. I’m sick of favoritism. I’m sick of ass-covering, and I’m sick of people simply NOT DOING THEIR BLOODY JOBS! No. I can’t take it anymore. We thank Shane for not allowing me alcohol this evening because if I had my choice, I’d go get stupidly drunk, induce alcohol poisoning because I have no tolerance, and end myself up in the hospital. We also thank my friend Minh for allowing me to crash on her spare bed. We don’t thank certain officials for putting me in a precarious position. I lived in a precarious position all summer long. I didn’t really wanna have to live in a mentally unhealthy unstable environment for the rest of my life. Thanks, people, you’ve ruined me.
But no, you don’t care. Of course you don’t care. Especially certain individuals who can sit on their couch and eat ice cream while a blind student lives in an unhealthy, unsafe environment, and the people who are supposed to help her aren’t doing anything about it. You had plenty of opportunities. Is it simply the fact that you hate me because I needed your help? Do you not like your job? Are you that unhappy in your career that you won’t help someone who’s getting urinary tract infections because her roommate’s living habits are causing them? I believe you are. And I will be bringing that up at my earliest opportunity. You had all the opportunity in the world last year to prove you were on my side. Obviously, you weren’t. That, is called favoritism. You let someone else make me sick while you plugged your ears, turned away from me, and pretended I didn’t exist! You didn’t care! And now that someone called you out on it, all of a sudden, you want me as far out of your face as you can get me. Because to you, as long as it looks like you’re doing your job on the books, and you’re getting paid for it, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing or how other people feel.
Oh god no. This place? Care? About their disabled students? Oh, I’m sorry, that’s too much work. You might have to pay someone to breathe instead of filling the positions with robots who are preprogrammed for only certain functions. I…dude…I’m simply at the point where I’m done giving a shit. The simple fact is that nobody cares. Nobody wants to help. It’s too much work. I’m too much work. if you couldn’t help me, who was supposed to? You were supposed to be the person who walked in and told her, “Enough is enough!” But you didn’t. You failed me. You failed me once and now you’re failing me again. My opinion of you is that you’re a malicious, malevolent and disgraceful human being who doesn’t actually care about his/her job. And you know what? I’m entitled to that opinion. I’m entitled to sit in this train station and write down what I think of you, because surely it’s better than drinking myself to death and ending up in the hospital.
I shouldn’t actively be thinking about getting drunk. Alcoholism runs in my family. My grandfather still struggles with it. I also shouldn’t be contemplating ways to sleep outside safely tonight because my friend’s building manager isn’t thrilled with me crashing with her. I can’t go home. I can’t go home because if I go home I’m going to end up locked in a mental institution because my mother is of the opinion that I belong in a group home or something or under her legal guardianship, which obviously I don’t.
I also thought I’d let ya know that I’ll be doing a mass cleanup of my social media the minute I hit a place where I have net access, as the MBTA car I’m currently sitting in…well…there wifi works about as well as my eyes. Which is to say, um, how bout not at all? things, are leaking. Things, are leaking, that should not, be leaking. And I’m gonna plug that leak if it’s the last damn thing I do on this earth. Noone. Has any right. To be digging into my locked shit, nor does anyone have the right to tell me that I should kill myself.
Yes, it happened. Someone told me I should end my life. Not a joke. I’m still breathing, I’m sitting in this car next to Shane right now because a frigging cat saved my life in 2003. Yes, you heard me, I said it publicly. Someone who will remain nameless told me I should kill myself. then, that same human being told me I should pretty much be locked away in a mental institution. Is that what people want? Would it make everyone happier if I just ended my life or got put away somewhere so I could never be a bother to anyone again? I know there are certain individuals who would be happier that way and the only reason they don’t get what they want, well, he’s sitting to my right, if you must know. Yeah, you saw that. I said it here. The reason I won’t end my otherwise miserable existence is because someone got through to my hard ass head that I was actually worth a shit.
