Don't be fair to the Daleks when they're firing me at a planet!

failed at getting to national park this weekend as planned. had to transfer title and registration on new vehicle, cost $100, DMV ate enough of my day that I ran out of time to go anywhere far (and ate the $80 I was going to use for an annual parks pass). Yyyyeah. New job's paycheck which I was clinging to dear life for this last, oh, practically month, finally came in and was almost $200 less than I hoped, due to taxes and missed days of work due to recent life crises. So. No extra tanks of gas, and no national parks pass for me until I figure out how to catch up on the $1300 back rent, $550 storage unit, $200 I owe my sister, and $95 insurance payment. oh and the $2000 for said new vehicle. By then it will be mid-winter and I won't be camping anywhere for a while. I really hope the world doesn't end now. I still need to see the giant sequoias before I die.
It's okay though, because now I have wine, pills, and homemade pizza and Doctor Who. Been sparing with the wine and it's the first pill I've taken and I don't intend to make it a habit but my shoulder/spine is so fucked up and painful lately it's hard to think straight and last time I tried to get a medical doctor to address this, he prescribed useless "physical therapy" rather than any sort of pain management regimen and that was 3 years ago shortly before I ran out of insurance. I think the fascia covering my left shoulder is somehow rumpled, has been for weeks. Hurts from where my shoulder attaches to my neck, out to the shoulder/arm joint, triangulating over the scapula down the middle of my back where ribs are hinged. I dunno. Actually sort of the least of my worries right now, but a girl can only bear so much pain at once. If I can at least mitigate the physical pain... maybe.... I can sleep through the emotional pain.
Which is a subject for an entirely other post.

Fuck

I just realized the reason I have been ignoring putting the food away and have kept sitting here watching dumb late night tv/dozing off/keep sitting here is that subconsciously I've been expecting him to come home anytime like usual and I guess I've been sort of "waiting up".
then this ton of bricks was like "*WHACK* hey bitch, he's not ever coming home again, at least not to you, remember?"
aaaaaaand now in the words of Professor Farnsworth, I don't want to live on this planet anymore.

(no subject)

alive.
read back through my posts and realized they could have sounded like I'm on the suicide path. But I'm not. Not intentionally, anyway. I've had a couple of death wishes these last couple weeks but I faced that demon back in college and laughed in it's face already. Blessed Death can take me like everybody else, when it's fucking time, and not a millisecond before.
I do intend to abuse substances for a while to help me mentally get through this though. Because I'm seriously at my fucking wits' end, and my bootstraps' elastic is old and brittle and snapped, and I've got no other relief valve, no comfort to turn to, no physical touch, no counselor to listen, no sex, no natural stimming behaviours, I'm not into cutting, not into tattoos and piercings, can't afford legitimate massage therapy, can't afford spa treatments or any other healing therapy, can't afford to get out to the woods or the beach or do anything to give my bleeding soul a break and I'm just stuck in a black hole in this fucking desert and the laywer says I'm not supposed to discuss details of the case so I can't talk to anybody and get it off my chest, and I constantly feel ready to explode, I mean, what other outlet do I fucking have? I have tried/am still trying to just go with the "solitude, meditation, breathing exercises" route and it helps a little but right now? I'm not exactly in the most peaceful of headspaces. Trust me though, I'm trying, because meditation is free and it's all I got right now. But what am I, a goddamn guru? I mean, I consider myself to be on the more spiritually aware side, but come on, asking myself to just 'Spartan' my way through this is... maybe a tad harsh/unrealistic? I am still a normal human woman with feelings and shit, right? I don't know. Normally I would just tell myself to suck it up. But I've told myself to "suck it up" so often these last few years that my filter's pretty clogged. This new recent crisis is just... beyond my ability to deal. Theoretically everyone's got a limit. Pretty sure I've reached mine now. I'm just motherfucking DONE.
Cigarettes only go so far, and I don't want to become a heavier smoker, but I know now's a bad time to quit because unfulfilled oral fixation + stress eating = rapid weight gain which is the last fucking thing I need. So you tell me what the fuck I am supposed to do. Taking a little chemical headtrip to just chill the fuck out and find a little relief is looking like a sorta sensible option right now. Lots of people legally do drugs every day to mentally and emotionally deal; they call them Lorazepam, Xanax, Prozac, Cymbalta, etc. Our society considers this a civilized and humane way to deal with deep depression.
But I don't want to go that Big Pharma route. For one thing those drugs have so many side effects they're really undesirable. They're apparently hard or even impossible to quit cold turkey which makes me nervous- what if I lost the ability to access them financially or insurance wise? And also, FUCK Big Pharma. If I'm going to support unethical drug dealing, I'll give my dollars to the little guy. I'd just rather pay for Boo to get new rims on his hoopty in the hood than Astra-Zeneca executives to buy another pair of diamond cufflinks. Or whatever. And even if I did want Prozac or something,, my health insurance at this new job doesn't kick in for another 2 months so I can't even go see a doctor or psychiatrist about those kinds of things. So, substance abuse it is, LOL.

And by 'substance abuse', I mean I will probably drink a lot more alcohol than normal, but since "normal" for me is "have a drink-or-3 once every couple of weeks" this probably means "drink 2 to 3 times a week"....I might finally try ecstasy or DMT, and I will probably start smoking weed more than once every 6 years. I might even go as hard as like, once or twice a month. *gasp* assuming I can find someone trustworthy to buy it from. Oh, and absolutely no meth, coke, or heroin. Those are still off the table, as they have always been with me. LOL Yeah, even when I'm sinning, I'm pretty lame I guess. But I do have a strong enough sense of survival that I don't intend this phase to leave me with permanent addiction problems; the idea is to help myself manage the damage, not burden myself with a new host of problems.

Speaking of which, I decided no more pills unless the physical back pain gets to unbearable levels again. It really did help last night but I'm trying to hoard those for those occasional times where I wake up and literally cannot walk to my own bathroom from the bed unassisted. And that does still happen once in a great while when I have those spinal flare ups, and it sucks beyond all belief.
So assuming I could drag myself to the medicine cabinet somehow, they'll be there and I'll be able to help myself medicinally transition to a state where I can get to a doctor assuming I have to drive myself while in extreme spinal pain or something. That is why I have to be very serious about not abusing that shit, it's really for emergency use only and there is only a small finite supply.