Water Leaking Light Bulb

About to have a psychotic break. I had to call maintenance just now because there is a steady stream of water coming down from the light bulb in my bed room closet. This will be the second time in a month I’ve had to call them for a water related issue,the first was air conditioner related. I called about 15 minutes ago. My anxiety is rising to a crescendo. Dammit, why won’t they come? This is kind of an emergency. I’m scared. What if it’s my neighbor’s water heater about to blow? What if my neighbors get upset I didn’t warn them first? My apartment looks OK right now by my standards, but what if they throw me out? There’s a lot of stains on my carpet, walls, everything. Maybe maintenance is on lunch break and fuck everyone. I suppose I should wait until 4 to call back unless my water bucket starts overflowing. My neighbors are talking loudly. Maybe they found the leak. Maybe they’re mad at me. It’s still steady flowing. I think it’s their water heater. Would bath water leak that long?

I guess I’ll keep writing until someone comes or I have a heart attack and die.

Someone’s coming I think. Maybe not.

Keep talking.

I’d text my friend, but I’m trying to only have conversations with her if she texts first. Bad things have been happening between us. Both my therapist and shrink know about it, my therapist knows all about it. My friend, as you may know if you read many a post before I private it, has a problem with verbal abuse. Sometimes after particularly bad blow ups, I overtake my medication a bit. Not trying to die, but trying to sleep a long time. My friend found me like this, allegedly took pics of me passed out, allegedly called the cops (I can find no record of it), and allegedly stayed with me for hours. I think she’s lying about some of it. She wants nothing to do with me except when she has to over the cats. She called my shrink, but so did I. The story gets worse from there, but I feel I best not say more. But be assured, people know what’s going on.

I heard my neighbor on the phone, but I was too scared to listen. I will plug my ears for fear of hearing them say something bad about me. I have an irrational fear of people talking about me or telling on me or anything. I hope to god they know what is going on and don’t get caught smoking pot. I’m listening to Cardi B. to try to drown shit out. It’s still leaking. It’s been an hour. I’ll keep talking.

The PH was too high in the Family Pool at the Y. The lifeguard warned me. Maybe they had some kid do something unfortunate in there. So I skipped that and I only had a few minutes anyway, because I thought it was an hour earlier when I left the house. I sat in the hot tub for a hot minute, then took a shower. When I got out, my bus sailed away before I could cross four lanes of traffic. I had to call an Uber. This is the second Tesla I’ve rode in. I much prefer riding in a Hooptie, because I feel like an Untouchable chilling with a Brahman. Nice guy, wanted to hear about all the amenities at the Y as he spends most of his free time swimming and working out. Of course he does. When he isn’t flexing his pretentious car.

Now an hour and a half has gone by. Getting annoyed. Maybe I should see if the bucket is full. No, half full. The water is still flowing pretty well and a nice stain is beginning near the light bulb. At least that’s proof it’s not my fault maybe. Listening to Lana del Rey.

I’ve had the first part of a psychiatric evaluation, IQ included. I got tired of people thinking, or in case of my friend – saying, that I’m mentally challenged. I want to know if it’s true. Pretty sure I have brain damage, but full blown idiot, I think not.

My friend doesn’t understand why I would want this done. Am I trying to compare to her high intelligence, or do I want to have it ‘both ways?’ I just want to prove that I’m not as stupid as she thinks I am and to figure out why I am such a weirdo. I’ll be happy to come in at average.

The psychologist wears a Lurch suit and Converse shoes. I liked him right away. Most PHD’s are stuck up I think. This guy treated me like a normal person, spoke to me like a normal person, and I had a good rapport with him. This comes in handy if he’s giving you an IQ test. I asked him towards the end of the session what he thought so far. So far, I’m AT LEAST average. I got a couple of easy questions wrong in patterns, but then I seemed to right myself and get the harder questions right.

It’s been over two hours now. I think I’ve written well over what I should and I could keep going. Will update if I don’t float away.

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Reefer Madness

Sassy the cat and I were walking back from feeding strays at the doctor’s office. What the hell is that, I think as I walk up to a felled street light. It is an old light on a wooden pole. The pole is snapped in half. Not a clean break, splintered everywhere, and the metal bent. Miraculously, the light stays lit even laying in the grass, working like a spotlight on the name of the apartment complex and the 5 mph speed limit. Someone was drunk, or experiencing reefer madness, or just being the average douche flooring it in between speed bumps. The OCD in me keeps whispering, “Somehow this is your fault. You did this. You just don’t know you did.”

someone must have

Return

OK, I’m going to try to start writing more again. I was lonely in 2010 when I started writing in this blog, and I’m lonely again, so…

Here I am 9 1/2 years later. I’m honestly amazed how far I’ve come from someone totally dependent on her mother to being something akin to independent. My life before my mother’s death is such a distant memory most of the time that it seems like someone else’s memories. Except when I feel intense pangs of guilt. Then I know I am that same person who cursed out her mom.

Sometimes, when I feel insecure, it comes back in my dreams. My mom has just died of sepsis. My cousins reject me. I have no place to go. And then I wake up, amazed that it was 8 years ago this September. That I’m OK and safe in my own apartment. It’s the past.

Fighting triggered the dream.

Oh Look Another Youtube Video

Dollar Tree Walkthrough

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And then my best friend told me to ‘drop dead.’ How nice.

Bitchfest 2019

Feeling a tad morose. A wee bit lugubrious. A little low. She who usually only contacts me for a favor, hits me up to watch her dogs for the weekend. Mercifully, as bad as this sounds, she’s down from 8 to 4 dogs from the elderly ones passing away. God, that sounds awful, but 8 poorly behaved dogs is a lot to handle. Four dogs, one of whom has diverticulitis and shits up the house, is enough. It won’t be so bad, but as always, I feel she isn’t telling me something. Maybe she’s just having an impromptu beach weekend, but I have the feeling she’s sick physically, emotionally, or both. I wish everything wasn’t a game of having to surmise what is happening.

And the real bitch of the thing is I had her as a reference for me volunteering for Crisis Text Line… and CTL says they never received her reference. Though she says she sent it. I don’t even want to ask. Maybe it was too upsetting for her to do, maybe it’s a mistake. I just really want to be able to say one day I made a difference. If I drop dead tomorrow from one cheeseburger too many, there will be no noble epitaph for my life.

Lisa -Filled a void in her mother’s life. Then her mother died, so she fed some cats.

Oh well, life is what you make it, I guess. I’m up to 60 YouTube subscribers. Three are men into fatties and belching, the rest are people just being nice. Still, that’s more than I thought I’d get. If I get internet famous, who needs a useful life.

Another thing. I’m convinced my upstairs neighbors loathe me. I was sitting outside when the man came out. I said hello. He didn’t say hi back. Not the first time either. Then his significant other game along with their two kids.

“Who is that?” said one kid.

“Someone you don’t need to bother,” said the mother. Maybe she didn’t want the kid bothering me, but I felt dismissed as the crazy cat lady. No other acknowledgement. I once even introduced myself when she brought me back my alarming phone when I lost it. No reply except that she had been trying to go to sleep. Maybe they’re just pot smoking assholes.

But then I also fucked up. I’m pretty sure I did. There was a little pink drawing desk all muddy from being left outside. It was left in the hallway two weeks, so I figured it had been abandoned. Maybe it had not been. I use it as a bedside table since my mattress is on the floor. If I put it back there, it’s an admission of guilt. I feel bad. Maybe they hate me for that too?

Anyway, Happy Memorial Day weekend!

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