Tag Archives: rage

Leave Me Alone

My case manager keeps calling me.  I’ve been avoiding her for the last few weeks because I just can’t fake it anymore, and I’m afraid if she sees how bad things are, I’ll get hospitalized.  That whole agency is really enthusiastic about hospitalizing people, and I feel like I can’t trust any of them.

I mean, they haven’t exactly done anything that would inspire trust.  This case manager’s not quite as bad as the last one, but she’s still pretty much useless.  The sum total of what she’s done for me in the months I’ve been seeing her is that she brought me one housing application and took me grocery shopping once.  Pretty fucking impressive case management, huh?  I still have no therapist.  I’m still constantly broke, behind on all my bills, with no hope of ever catching up.  I’m still effectively housebound.  But hey, she took me grocery shopping once, so clearly they’re rendering highly effective mental health services.

I want to pick up the phone the next time she calls and scream, “Stop fucking calling me!  You’re not going to help me, so just leave me the fuck alone!”  I want to lash out.  I want to make her hurt because I hurt worse, and instead of helping like she’s supposed to, she just leaves me to suffer alone.  I mean, she’s never once asked about my symptoms or how I’m coping.  Nothing beyond the rote, “Hey, how’s it going?” when I first see her.

Eventually I’m going to have to answer the phone or she’ll send the cops after me.  That would trigger the hell out of me, and I’d probably end up in the hospital.  Of course, if I try to terminate, she could use that as “proof” that I’m refusing necessary treatment (hah, what fucking treatment?) and get the cops to drag me off to the hospital.  It feels like I’m screwed no matter what I do.  I just can’t keep seeing her and acting like everything’s okay, knowing that if I said things weren’t okay, the only additional services I’d get would be hospitalization.  I can’t see her because I just want to scream at her.

I don’t know why I’m so angry at her.  I don’t like the person it turns me into: it makes me want to hurt her, to make her cry.  I don’t like the part of me that makes me want to take out my pain on other people.  There’s no reason for me to be this angry at her.  I mean, I don’t even want to hurt my father like this anymore, and the things he did to me were far worse.  I want to destroy this nice but useless woman, and I don’t even understand why I hate her this much.

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Seriously? SERIOUSLY?

So apparently the roommate is also Facebook-stalking me.  I vented about the situation and made a snarky comment to the effect of, “If you hear a news story about someone in my town who murdered her roommate, that’ll be me.”  Roommate and I are NOT Facebook friends, but she texted me some bullshit about how that’s illegal and she was only talking about it because her mom thought the apartment was gross.

BITCH PLEASE.

I used to do legal research for a defense attorney, so do you really want to get in a law fight with me?  REALLY?  Please, do call the cops.  I’d LOVE to see them laugh their asses off at you.
10millionhearyourstupid
See, it’s not actually a crime unless I actually intended to murder you or I intended to intimidate you.

Clearly I didn’t actually intend to murder you.  I mean, please, go through my Facebook and count up all the other people I’ve said I wanted to kill.  It ranges from members of Congress to my immediate family to people who walk on my side of the sidewalk.  All those people are still alive.  See, for it to be a crime, there has to be both mens rea (“the thought of the thing;” basically, intent to commit a crime) and actus reus (“the act of the thing,” or an actual criminal act).  I definitely didn’t have actus reus, and I could probably argue successfully that I didn’t even have mens rea, since I never actually intended to hurt you or anyone else.  I could also name off the top of my head at least a dozen people who’d testify to the fact that I’ve said in person that I wanted to/was going to kill them but who didn’t feel threatened.  Obviously they’re all still alive too.
nothowitworks

As for intimidation, you’d have a hell of a time proving that one in court, too.  My Facebook post was public, yes, but since we’re not Facebook friends and you’ve never mentioned your Facebook usage to me, I had no reason to believe that you’d see it.  See, I don’t feel the need to check up on what people I’m not Facebook friends with me are saying about me.  That’s normal.  Facebook-stalking your roommate isn’t.

I vented on Facebook specifically because I didn’t think you’d see it.  Unlike you, I have some basic consideration of other people’s feelings, even when they aren’t people I actually like.  If I’m not going to talk to them directly about what they’re doing that’s bothering me, I don’t pull passive-aggressive bullshit and scream about it where they can obviously hear it.  I deal with my frustrations in venues where I can reasonably assume that they won’t hear so as not to hurt their feelings while I deal with mine.  If you go searching for it, then that’s your fault.  It’s not my responsibility to protect you from unpleasant things you might discover while stalking someone.
fuckinnope
finger

I’m just so fucking far past done with this bullshit.  It takes a lot to get me really angry, but once I’m there…well, it’s not pretty.  I would never physically hurt anyone, but I can be pretty mean verbally.  It’s not a part of myself I like most of the time, but it is useful at times.  And once I’ve been pushed far enough that I no longer give a single fuck, which is where I am now…well, if she wants to start a fight, I’m goddamn well gonna finish it.

lastfuckigive
soilooklikeicare

I have so many other appropriate gifs.  Maybe I’ll do a whole recap of this post using only West Wing gifs because that demonstrates exactly how many shits I give about this.

Actually, I’m bouncing back and forth between “LOL this is is so ridiculous it’s funny” and “It’s not safe and I have nowhere to go that is safe, so I have to kill myself right now.”  It’s lots of fun, lemme tell ya.

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Fuck Off, Dawkins: An Emotional Response

Okay, I already wrote a rational response to Richard Dawkins’ inflammatory tweets about the relative badness of various types of rape and sexual abuse…but I have feelings, too.

Mainly rage.

Dr. Dawkins, have you ever sat in a room full of survivors of sexual abuse and rape and listened to them tell their stories?  Have you heard them disparage themselves, saying that they didn’t deserve to be there because their trauma wasn’t as bad as someone else’s?  I very much doubt that you have.

I have.  I’ve been in that room.  I’ve been the one saying I don’t deserve to acknowledge the devastation sexual abuse and assault caused me and don’t deserve to get help, and I’ve also been the one reassuring another woman that her feelings about being raped were legitimate even though she hadn’t been subjected to the same degree of violence that others were.  It rips your heart to shreds.

I was sexually abused by my father for 16 years and then repeatedly raped for several months by another person.  My father was occasionally violent and sometimes threatened to kill me, but most of his abuse was not violent.  The person who raped me as an adult wasn’t violent and never threatened me.  By your definition, my trauma is bad…but not bad bad.  But I have severe, debilitating complex PTSD and dissociative identity disorder, which are a direct result of those traumas.  DID is generally recognized as the most severe trauma-based disorder, but if my abuse and rape weren’t bad bad, then why is my life so devastated?

It’s incredibly offensive to use rape or sexual abuse just to make a point.  It’s like the movies and books where the writer needs something bad to happen to a female character to move the plot along, so he uses rape even though many other traumas would’ve worked just as well.  It trivializes rape.  You could’ve just as easily used theft as an example for your fucking syllogism.  Clearly you knew that, since you later tweeted about that as a cruel, sarcastic response to people who objected to your comments about rape and sexual abuse.  You’re not a stupid man; you clearly did this to be provocative and offensive, and you did it at the expense of all the people who have been traumatized by nonviolent rape and sexual abuse.

You know what?  I think “nonviolent rape” is a contradiction of terms.  Rape is an inherently violent act, even if it doesn’t leave visible injuries.  It is violence against a person’s soul–in many cases, the emotional equivalent of murder.  To suggest otherwise is incredibly offensive.

I hope you’re ashamed of yourself, but I’m pretty damn sure you’re too narcissistic to feel that.  I am disgusted by you.  I wouldn’t wish rape on anyone, but I wish you could live a day with the emotional aftermath of it.  Then you’d stop being so fucking insensitive about it. 

I want you to hurt the way I do.  I want you to feel the guilt and the shame and the self-hatred and the self-blame every day.  I want you to be afraid of almost everybody, especially anyone with a penis.  I want you to be completely isolated because you can’t trust anyone.  I want you to live on constant red alert because you can never feel safe again.  I want you to live with the flashbacks and the body memories and the nightmares.  I want you to live with the feeling of despair and hopelessness because you will never be able to undo what was done to you.  I want you to feel what it’s like to want to die because the pain is so constant and unbearable.  I want you to know what it’s like to realize the person abusing or raping you doesn’t even see you as a human being.  I want you to feel the utter helplessness when you realize there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it.  I want you to fucking HURT.

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I Hate Everything

Fair warning: this whole post is just me ranting and whining like a spoiled entitled bitch.  Feel free to ignore it.

I want to kill people right now.

DMH–the people who said, “We already have 200 clients.  Which of those do you want us to drop so we can serve her?”–sent me a registered letter today.  Like 15 minutes ago.  Saying that if I don’t call them by tomorrow, they’ll deny my application for services.  And the woman I’m supposed to talk to isn’t answering, and her voicemail is full.  And I have five million things to do tomorrow.  Seriously.  I see my psychiatrist and then my gastroenterologist and then my therapist.  I have to switch my voter registration to my new address before the deadline, have a phone interview for food stamps, and go to the food bank if I want to have anything to eat, not that they have much food I can eat to give me.

It’s probably a good thing this woman’s voicemail is full because my message would say something to the effect of, “Look, bitch, you’ve talked to my team leader multiple times, and you know I’m in need of services.  I’ve legally authorized her to speak to you on my behalf, and I know she told you to go through her for stuff.  I don’t fucking know you, and I have an irrational fear of talking to people I don’t know on the phone–something that, you know, is part of my MOTHERFUCKING MENTAL ILLNESS.  Which is why I need services.  But you assholes have clearly demonstrated that you’re more interested in finding excuses to deny me services instead of help me, so go fuck a cactus, bitch.  Preferably one of the poisonous ones.”

I also got a letter from Medicaid denying me transportation to my appointments with my therapist because “provider/facility is outside locality.”  NO FUCKING SHIT.  That’s why I need GODDAMN TRANSPORTATION.  To get to her, I’d have to walk two miles–either along a busy road with no shoulder or along railroad tracks, either one of which could endanger my life.  Then I have to take 3 buses, with layovers where I have to wait outside–and we’ve been having windchills of -15.  Then I have to walk half a mile uphill on a road which is, due to the aforementioned frigid temperatures, icy and dangerous.  And did I mention that I have a bone spur and arthritis in my lumbar spine and sacroiliac joint, which causes significant pain when I’m on my feet for longer than 30 minutes a day?  Or that my severe autoimmune disorder often leaves me so weak that standing for long periods of time is impossible?

It’s too bad none of this happened yesterday, before I went to the forum where I met the current state attorney general who will probably, according to polling data, be our next governor.  She particularly mentioned, more than once, that she wants to increase access to mental health care and decrease the stigma, and I could’ve asked her what she’s doing about bullshit like this.

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