Reply #1: I hope you are one of those extemely sympathetic bartenders...

[Jamastiene]

who is great at pretending to listen to drivel from overly pathetic, possibly psychotic patrons. I need one right about now.

I have no plans except trying to get rid of the pain and maybe sneak some sleep in when my aunt finally passes out or finds a movie to watch.

I ran out of my regular "all purpose" pain medicine. Eckerd brand PM, which is now called Rite Aid brand PM because Eckerd is no more, is a pretty good medicine for me to take when I'm hurting(physically). It's just an OTC medicine that I take. It's not for fun or anything. If you try taking too much of it, which I did accidentally once, it will make you feel like you are coming out of your skin. I only take it when I'm hurting. It was originally recommended by a pharmacist who was trying to help me get off weed, Valium, and Darvocet and all the other shit I was taking that was fucking me up and not really working, as cheaply and as painlessly as possible back in the early 90s. I wish I had access to the good drugs right about now though. Fuck being stone cold sober and off drugs. I hate it.

Yesterday, I ran out of my little OTC medicine after a particularly bad headache that I woke up with. I tried regular Tylenol. That wasn't good at all. I call Tylenol a reminder that I am immortal, unfortunately. Plus, Tylenol makes me nauseated as shit.

Long story short, I cannot take Tylenol to this day without horrible memories (and extreme nausea) of a bad attempt at suicide when I was young enough and stupid enough to think taking a bottle of Tylenol (partial bottle) would kill me...or that anything would kill me. Instead it only made me sick as a dog. They didn't even put me in the hospital or pump my stomach. I just went to bed and suffered intensely for about a week until my kidneys and liver stopped spasming. It was a horrible ordeal, but right afterwards, I thought Sid and Nancy were helping me record music. So, it wasn't a total loss. I wrote a great song that I still wish I could get someone good to sing. I ain't singing it, unless someone wants their house exterminated. I can make rats flee from a tasty trash dump buffet with my singing.

I haven't been right since that ordeal.
I learned that:
a: My family doesn't give a shit enough to take me to the hospital even though they KNEW I took a little over a half a bottle of Tylenol. Instead, they let me suffer and puke my way through it.
b: Tylenol won't kill you. It'll just make you wish you had really died to get away from the physical pain.
c: Taking enough drugs to cause physical pain is addicting in and of itself. If physical pain is strong enough, the emotional pain doesn't seem as bad for a while. That is the sad truth about overdoing drugs and why I'll always want major drugs even though I can only have minor drugs at this point. Plus, daring to mention this factoid of information causes people to freak the fuck out at me even though ancient indians (source: Town Creek Indian Mound, their main web site) from my little jacked up overly zealous religious region of the country did something similar in concept in their religion ages before the crazy right wing nutbags came and settled the place with that special brand of Christianity that makes me long for Hell to get away from them. I really do wish I could not only die, but go to Hell to get away from them forever. That would be Heaven for me. Fucked up, ain't it? It's true.

On top of it all, the car wouldn't crank this morning. That is highly unusual for ol' trusty. That car cranks on 10 degree days...on the first try. The only thing I can figure is that it has been so long since I have been anywhere that the car just sat and maybe the gas got contaminated with condensation or something. Finally it cranked, but I had to give it gas to make that happen, which you normally never have to do with that car.

Add all those factors together and you get this scenario this morning:
I was sick (nauseated and still had the headache) from not taking my usual PM generic medicine. It is the only thing in the world that stops my morning sickness (extreme nausea in the mornings) and, of course, I still had the headache from the day before. I would never know if I was pregnant based on morning sickness, because I have suffered from morning sickness since was an infant. Not that I'd ever get pregnant. That would require a Turkey baster and a woman willing to stay with me long enough to actually make a baby...and a man willing to donate his sperm to allow someone as horrible as me to make a kid with it. Nevermind finding a woman will to stay with me long enough to raise the kid to at least kindergarten. What's that saying about a camel through the eye of a needle? That is at least possible. Getting a woman to actually want to spend more than 5 minutes with my sorry ass is impossible. Impossible.

Anyhow, I finally got my medicine, but I hadn't slept. So, I tried to sleep. I got lousy, tortured sleep. My aunt kept hitting the wrong buttons on the phone today as she called everyone she knew and several companies to complain about products and possibly random people in the phone book too. She is a master at psychological warfare/torture and the phone kept beeping, ringing, buzzing, and every other annoying sound it could make in my room while I tried to sleep. She kept hitting the wrong buttons. She's not one of those people who lets the phone ring 5 times and then hangs up. Oh, no. She lets the phone ring and ring and ring and ring and ring. That's what she did for hours today until I felt like I was going to go out of my fucking mind. Finally, I got up and asked her :wtf:

So, I tried going back to bed and she didn't intercom me for all her random craziness. Instead, she keeps sticking her head in my door just as I drop off to sleep and talking about random shit that has nothing to do with the fact that I still haven't rested since 2 days ago. Well, I did tell her I wanted a break from the phone, but what I really want is a break from her insanity. She only sleeps 4 hours and then wants out of the bed. She figures I don't need 7 hours of sleep. She doesn't. So, I'm not allowed any sleep without being tortured. Thing is, I do need sleep, desperately. If I don't have sleep, I start getting sick, which I am right now. I have been tortured for the last 2 days straight. The headache is a thing of the past, but the emotional torture is still there. All I want is some time to myself.

Damn my family for sticking me in this kind of situation where I only have maybe 3 hours of privacy, peace, quiet, and time to myself each day and NEVER do I get a break of any kind from it. She wakes up every hour on the hour and wants me to adjust her legs, so even when she's asleep, it's constant with no break. That's how I manage to post on DU every hour of the day. It's my only happy point. It's my only outlet. The torture and no privacy/sleep/time to myself bit is getting old. It's day in and day out. I cannot wait until I die. This life wasn't worth living anyhow. What hell? I'm already there and I'm too old to try to salvage my life now. Fuck it. I'm doomed, cursed, and worst of all, immortal. I just won't fucking die. The cockroaches envy me. Nuclear war wouldn't kill me. Yet, good people die every single day. It should be a crime. If there is a God, His "mysterious ways" are nothing more than a fashionable trendy fuck form of sick depravity. Why is my worthless ass still alive while good people die every day? There MUST be an answer.

At least, I am not out of my Zoloft though. Imagine how fucked up, depressed, and acutely aware of my worthlessness I would be without THAT?