Chocolate bars

Spent a few hours in the ER tonight, family doctor hadn’t responded to the pharmacy’s request for a refills on my amlodipine and gabapentin. I need to find another primary doctor office, stop going to that clinic now that I have medicaid and they’re not my only option.

I’m tired, exhausted.

What am I supposed to be doing? I’m not dead, I didn’t have a heart attack, EKG and xrays results were normal. But what the fuck am I doing here? Nothing feels right.

I’m surrounded by depressed people and I’m beginning to think it’s just everyone right now, that it’s just the natural grit of the sediment this decade is collecting. What the fuck am I doing here?

Goddamn garbage disposal is still broken, I don’t know how to talk to people anymore because everyone’s so fucking suicidal or anxious and fucked up that I don’t know how to talk about needs with them.

I shouldn’t say that. I have a few good friends who still seem to be maintaining, but I don’t want to constantly lean on them with my life patched together one crisis after crisis. Body revolting in this place where I’m just in stasis, just waiting. I dunno who’s running the apartment maintenance company at this point but it’s a joke and I wonder if it ever wasn’t, like maybe this is the best case scenario and I’m like that girl in Orange is the New Black who is constantly complaining about this or that civil rights issue like she just doesn’t get it, like she doesn’t know what it’s like to be poor.

I don’t know, I thought I knew. Maybe I don’t. As soon as I start really understanding, it’s like there’s a target on my head proclaiming that I’m starting to run out of steam and getting desperate when creepy people decide to start offering me money for shit and I don’t know what to do cause there’s only so much that anyone can do this month or that month, and I start seeing my ingoing and outgoing expenditures getting further and further apart and I can’t figure out when I’m going to be able to get a grip on things.

I don’t even know who to be mad at anymore. I don’t know if I can even be mad anymore. After a certain amount of people messing things up I just fall in line and don’t ask questions.

Not dead, where’s the next bar of chocolate coming from?

How long will I still be human?