Insomnia

I am too anxious to sleep.

Last night I had the worst breakdown I've had in years.

All day today I was anxious out of my mind.

Presently I can't stop crying.

I hate my life.  I hate everything about it.

I feel like I have no ownership in my life.  No say in what happens to me.

I have a job that pays less than $200 a month.  And it doesn't matter how many applications I fill out or how many places I send my resume to--I can't make someone give me a job.  And for some reason, even though I'm applying for essentially the same job I used to do at the clinic, no one seems to think I'm qualified.  And there's no guarantee that anyone ever will call me--isn't that terrifying?  I might be stuck doing 12 hours a week at Hastings for the rest of my life!

I can't take care of myself.  I can't pay for my own groceries, bills, anything.  I can't pay for treatment for my disorders anymore.  And there are no options for help.  Hastings offers insurance but it doesn't cover mental health, and besides, the hours I get up here, I'd basically be working just to have insurance.  And the great state of AZ (which I'll be stuck in forfuckingever since I can't afford to leave) has decided that only women who have popped out kids are worth helping with state insurance.  (That is a fact--I don't want children and have never been dumb enough to accidentally get knocked up so therefore I don't qualify for AHCCCS).

I don't have a car.  I don't even get to decide when I can and can't leave my house.  The city of Flagstaff tells me that, because I have to take the bus everywhere.  It blows.

I don't have my own room and because of the cats' litter box being in the bathroom, we have to sleep with the bedroom door open.  I have never slept well with open doors.  (Don't get me wrong I am BEYOND grateful to Jenny for letting me stay here when Corey decided he was done with me--my gratitude for her is endless . . . but gratitude doesn't put me to sleep).

I don't even have a real bed!  I sleep on a flipping air mattress.  What most people take on camping trips or throw in their guest rooms, I sleep on permanently.  And holy hell my body hates it.

I don't care anymore.  I haven't done laundry in a week and later today I'll probably go to work in dirty clothes, and I really could fucking care less.  I've stopped writing.  I've stopped reading.  I just . . . I don't care.

When Corey dumped me my heart was broken (it still is).  But I thought, I don't need him--I thought, if I can move away and get myself on my feet financially, if I can buy a car and become . . . become a human being, then I won't care.  Sure I'll still love him and miss him but I'd have my own life.

And it's not going as planned, and now I don't have him or a life.  Now I have nothing.

And there isn't shit I can do about it.  If no one gives me a job then no one gives me a job.  No money means no treatment, no treatment means complete mental breakdowns, complete mental breakdown means . . . well, I'll either end up killing myself or I'll be one of those unstable homeless people you see walking around downtown.

Those are my life options.  I am 27 years old, and I am a complete waste of space.  And this will be my life, always, because I'm not meant for anything more.

I tried to do everything right.  I really did.  I went to college, I busted my ass, I got a degree, I never did anything awful to anybody, I wasn't a slut, I just . . . I don't understand.

I don't understand.  I don't understand why I can't have anything go my way, why I absolutely cannot win.  What did I do?  Sometimes I feel like I'm being punished for the actions of others . . . but that's not something I'm ready to talk about on here yet.

And so begins the downward spiral.