I have just been dealing with waaaaaaaay too much shit lately. No clue when I can see my therapist yet (I canceled my appointment on Friday because of stomach cramps and she hasn't called back yet, I'm going to try calling again tomorrow), so I'm just going to info dump in here for a bit, see if that helps any. Before I start, I apologize for all the negativity in this post (and in a lot of my posts). It's easier to rant and complain than it is to write about happy stuff, for some weird reason. Or at least it feels better. Maybe because people are always willing to listen to the good stuff but rarely the bad? *shrugs* Well, here's a good thing to help you trudge through the bad: Ben and I got married on February 29th. I'll try to put up a post about that later, with nothing bad in it, but I hafta put the bad stuff first or else it might leak into the good stuff.
Here goes.
Too much shit. Too much shit. TOO MUCH FUCKING SHIT!
So, got married on the 29th, right? Well my lovely abusive parents decided to ruin it (mind you, I hadn't told them we were getting married any time soon the last I talked to them back in October, so as far as they knew they were just ruining a random Monday (as well as my life), but that still doesn't excuse them). The wedding itself went wonderful, the "reception" went great too (cake in our dining room with everybody that showed for the wedding in the field behind our house). But then John sent me a text message about how I'm making my mother so depressed and I'm a horrible person for not wanting to be abused by them any longer, holy shit guilt trip blah blah blah. I'd already been stressed as fuck the entire week leading up to the wedding (I was terrified I was going to fuck up something, anything, everything, because yay anxiety), so this new low-even-for-John level of bullshit he was resorting to snapped me. I grabbed the bottle of vanilla vodka (75 proof), a shot glass, and sat down on the couch and started drinking. Only 6 shots left in the bottle, but it was enough to let the floodgates flow. Logan and Levi were still there, so Logan helped me feel better (after a whiskey sour to add to the vodka on an otherwise empty stomach) while Levi was upstairs with Ben as he used my phone to call John and tell him how much of a fucking monster he was and is and always will be, and how he ruined my life already, but thank you extra for ruining my wedding. I'm bawling downstairs this whole time, and then I went into full-on panic attack mode because I was terrified John was going to come to our house and do something (and it's John, so I still wouldn't put it past him, even now). And since Ben doesn't have over a decade of abuse acceptance training from John, he wouldn't fold to any of his manipulative fuckface-ery, which pissed John off to no end because he always wins, no matter how wrong he is, cuz he beats his opponent until they give up (I'd say thankfully not physically, but at least if he'd hit me, I could've had him put away in prison, and the punches wouldn't have hurt near as bad as the crap he actually did on an almost daily basis). So, long story short, I have no idea if/when they're going to turn my phone off, if/when they're going to come here and harass me in person, if they were lying when they said they were finally going to let me have all of my stuff back that they literally would not let me take when I moved in with Ben, and if I'm going to have to end up getting a restraining order against the both of them. So yeah, best wedding present evar.
Fast forward five days. I won't go into the details of the matter that led up to it, but a friend made a comment, while severely stressed himself, that trivialized rape, and having had Matt rape me at 19, and having known a few other rape survivors in my time, and have seen just how bad the stigma in this country is for anybody that gets raped, it made me re-snap. I almost ended up in the hospital because of it. Didn't help matters any that Ben is really bad with words sometimes, and he unintentionally sounded like he was trivializing my rape as well. Figured out everything with Ben, and now I just need to have a conversation with the friend to make sure he understands why what he said was bad, and why it stabbed me worse than almost anything else ever has (and considering the shit from my past, like the guy who almost murdered me and the girl her literally ruined my life in 3rd grade, that's really saying something). Adding injury to insult, I ended up semi-reliving the damn thing in my head, and let me just say, I would rather saw off my left foot with a dull butter knife covered in salt and lemon juice and battery acid than ever have to remember that horrible experience ever again. Hell, I'd rather chew through the damn ankle myself.
And now, because hell on earth comes in 3s (or 3 billions if you're me), I have some mildly threatening guy calling for some bitch named Brittany Mayo who apparently used to live here but never fucking bothered to fill out a change of address for literally anything (because we've almost gotten more mail for her than we have for ourselves at this point), saying he needed to serve papers to her and that he was coming by her house (our house, not fucking hers, but why would he ever bother checking out ANY information when he can just sound like he's coming to arrest me in Brittany Mayo's place because he damn well feels like it?) on Friday. I'm assuming he paid to get the information look-up from the white pages, which lists me and two chicks I've never met (one of who we get mail for constantly, and neither of which were Brittany Mayo) as the people who are associated with this address (so I get to call them up tomorrow and ask them why those other two bitches are listed and please remove them because I don't want to get harassed because of them next). Ben called the number that was in the vague as metric fuck message and told them that it's my number, not hers, it was NEVER hers, and that she hasn't lived here since before we signed the lease in July, and the guy said that they removed the number for us and basically hung up on Ben. So, at this point, I have no fucking clue what's going on. Is loan shark knee cap breaker coming by tomorrow to serve me a death certificate, or did they actually fix their very big mistake, or am I still going to be getting harassing phone calls directed towards some bitch I have literally never met in my entire life? The worst part is, when I Googled the two numbers that were my missed calls (the guy left the message when I was asleep, and the other number didn't leave any message), I found out that, according to the people on 800notes, that one of those numbers was repeatedly connected to that IRS scam where they pretend to be from the IRS and tell you you owe the government lots of money and you need to send it all to this P.O. Box immediately and not to any actual government addresses, as well as a few other highly illegal debt collector scams. The guy that left the message even sounded a little bit like the guy who left that message for me a few years back about how I was going to jail for check fraud and I needed to call the number he gave me to set up a court thing or whatever. I'm sure at least some of you remember that experience? I was planning on killing myself because I was afraid of going to jail and being constantly raped and abused. Always fun when one lie from a sleazy illegally-operating debt collection agency almost sends you to the hospital. Basically, I was about an hour away from asking Ben to drive me to the ER (I had already cut my leg in a couple places, and was about to start on my arm) when I looked up the phone number I was supposed to call, and found out they were sending out literally the exact same message to a ton of other people, and only changing the county that the court was in, depending on where the person being scammed lived. At this point, for all I know, maybe this WAS the exact same guy and the exact same company. I have to deal with this shit for strangers now, too?
And, to add a lovely end to an otherwise shit-filled couple of weeks (save the actual wedding bits), I masochistically read the comments section of a friend's anti-Trump Facebook post and had the displeasure of reading the eye-bleedingly stupid insanity of not one but two Bigots For Trump. Can I just please fast forward through to about December? That way, if Bernie won, all this shit will be over, and if just about anybody else won (especially ANY Republican, and ESPECIALLY the Trump monster) we can start planning on which country we're going to move to. Because I've been paying attention to this election, I've been seeing the interviews, been reading what each person plans to do with the presidency, and Bernie plans to unfuck America, Clinton plans to do whatever her corporate sponsors want her to do, and every single Republican plans on metaphorically killing off this entire country and possibly destroying the entire world so it'll be a matched set. Literally every single possible Republican candidate scares the living hell out of me. And I don't mean that in any joking way whatsoever. They scare me. They terrify me, because of the stuff they're planning on doing, and because of the KKK and Neo-Nazi level hate mongering they're encouraging just to get the ignorant bigot vote. As the sign said that got that guy kicked out of a Trump rally, if any Republican wins, they will most certainly "Make America Hate Again" (paraphrased so it's not just Trump monster). They've been doing such a good job of it already. What the hell kind of future are we leaving for our children? And if Trump wins, are we even leaving them one?
Oh, and not that anybody actually comments on these things, but I do in fact screen every (rare) comment that comes through before it gets posted on here. I do it to get rid of spam, but it's also great to weed out any hate mail (not that I've gotten any on this blog, but I have gotten it before). So, if you want to bash me for thinking that the anti-Christ would be a safer choice for president than the literal monster that is Trump, then feel free. And make sure to leave your IP address so that I can block you, because I'm not a fan of bigots, and if you support Trump you are a bigot. End. Of. Story.
