I honestly don't want to live anymore. I know I said I did because of my writing and my novels but its come down to not wanting to live at all even in spite of finishing my series. This is just the last straw. Even if I did continue to live for the sake of writing more, no one would appreciate it or want to read it. I mean, fuck, do you think anyone jumped at the idea of me writing personalized letters to them from my characters? No. They hate my characters and my writing that much that they could give a shit less. I know that they'll try and deny it but I know the truth. Actions speak so much louder than words. I'm just a joke. I'm a weird joke with nothing to offer anyone. This whole thing that I'm going through right now that is making me cry and unable to stop feels just like Tumblr all over again. Back when I used to role play on Tumblr and people accused me of being passive aggressive and insisted that I was making them uncomfortable and then wanting nothing to do with me. I hear that same bullshit from everyone, when they tell me that I'm making them feel uncomfortable, it's the story of my fucking life. It can be someone on the internet or someone in real life who I meet and when they say that to me, nothing hurts more. It's like they're saying that they don't like me for me and that I'm some kind of disease, that if they get too close, they'll catch. I'm even considering just never taking my heart medication again. Last night I felt something different with my heart. There was this hard heartbeat against my chest, I think it was a palpitation and of course Christian was freaking out with worry and even though the office was closed, I called my electrophysiologist's office and left word with the operator about how I was having new symptoms and she told me she would page the doctor and he would call me back within 20 minutes. Needless to say, he did but I can't help but think that he doesn't give a shit. I mean, if he waited all this time to actually show some concern about me even after I called like a week ago with chest pains and no one called me back, he doesn't really care. I can't and never will trust another medical professional again. Not unless they already dead and living with me. I have an appointment with his sorry condescending ass tomorrow but I don't even feel like going anymore. I just want to let my heart kill me, do whatever its going to do and just take me. People have died from broken hearts before. I know they have and I 've always thought for so long that that was going to be how I'm going to die so I'm ready for it. Christian will have to shove my medication down my throat just to get me to take it again. I'm seriously Googling what happens if A-Fib goes untreated. That's how badly I want to die. God I really, really, really wish I hadn't found this whole character letter writing bullshit on Etsy, but now that I have, like I said, it's like those cruel, drama-creating Tumblr role players all over again. Most seemed like they were nice, aside from not responding right away, but there were two others, one who accused me of being condescending and nearly canceled and refunded my orders that I had to beg and plead with her to keep and I'm still worried might come back and insist that she can't do it because of my attitude and "disrespect." And then there's this other one who writes emails back and forth between you and your favorite character for a cheap fee, and I got excited and thought that she would be able to send emails to me as Paul from "Orphan Black" with a NSFW undertone, sort of like a Fifty Shades kind of thing, but after waiting like three whole days for my first email, she suddenly decided that she's uncomfortable with my request and that she can't give me what I want. And now I just. . .I feel like I can't breathe. I'm sick of being treated like shit and I'm sick of people not understanding that there is someone else on the other side of the computer screen and that we have feelings. God I wish I had the courage to take my own life. I already have a plan for how I'm going to do it. I wish I had someone who would make me feel loved and needed and wanted, who would hold me when I cry, who would sleep beside me at night and cuddle me, be affectionate with me and tell me how much they love me and how I'm beautiful and just make me feel like a princess. None of my Tulpas can do that because they aren't flesh and blood and none of my spirits or astral entities care enough anymore to do it either. Even if they claim that they do, I'm too blocked to feel anything from them like I used to and I've been far too tired to meditate anymore. So everything is just going wrong and all I want is some happiness. I need some happiness. Hell, I wish I still had a therapist to talk to. Not having one for so long has really driven me closer to suicide and of course, they don't care because there's too many asshole people who need one so I can't even see any of the therapists I used to be comfortable with because their slots are all full but I desperately need one. Christian is saying I should call up my insurance and see if they can find me another office. Fuck Clearview! Asshole motherfuckers! Fuck Sue! Fuck Eric! I hope all the assholes who took a spot on their schedule get COVID and die! The least they could do is make room for me considering how much I'm in need and the fact that they know me already. I need therapy more than those other assholes, especially if I'm close to suicide. We'll see what the next place will be able to do for me.
I can't wait to get those comfort letters from Damon Salvatore and Elijah. I really need to feel loved and wanted and needed and appreciated right now. I need a lot of comfort letters that will make me feel like I have someone who loves me and wants me to stay alive. Even if its only pretend. At least the illusion of that and their words will comfort me. I redecorated that box I found at Ross and covered up the unicorns on the side with these vintage romance novel looking stickers I bought from someone a long time ago on Etsy, so it looks better now. I even put silhouette stickers of Damon & Elijah on the lid surrounding the words "make your own magic." I also bought them from someone off Etsy. So yeah, I'll keep my letters in that. At least most of the sellers are nice enough to let me write back to the characters after my first letter and then I can buy more that follow from the others. I guess that's better than the email with that. . .person who shall remain nameless. But still. . .if she knows Paul better than other people on Etsy offering letters/emails. . .then I just lost a really good writer. Clearly she's too busy with all her orders to respond to me about whether we're going to do a plot or something that doesn't involve explicit NSFW. I'm just so fucking done with her and yet. . . I'm sick of being ignored. Yet another reason I want to kill myself. And just like those asshole Tumblr role players in the past, I can't help but feel that she's ruined Dylan Bruce/Paul for me now. Thanks a lot bitch! I found an office that I can maybe find a therapist at but I'll have to call them tomorrow since they're already closed. They even have a therapy dog. A bulldog but still. . .seeing it on the website gave me a little smile. And I can't believe after all this time, two weeks, that the fucking lab hasn't gotten the results of my blood work yet. I swear, this is exactly what I'm talking about. Depopulation Agenda 2021! They don't care that we need this information in order to figure out what's wrong with us or go on living. They're trying to help more and more people die and this is exactly why no medical professional can be trusted anymore. They'll say or do anything to make sure that every patient suffers and gets closer to death and then at the last second, boom! You're dead and they get paid for being part of the agenda. I still want to switch my doctor to that female doctor instead because this fucking foreigner is so flippant and abrupt and I don't think he really even listens to what the fuck his patients say. He just makes decisions on the fly without giving them any real thought. And what kind of doctor doesn't examine you at every appointment, or at least listen to your heart? That other nice lady doctor I had a long time ago at least did that. God I miss her, but the whores who do her reception are cunts and if you recall, they filed a "divorce" with me. Their words. Stupid assholes! I miss Bryce so much. He was hot and he was going to military school. Damn. I remember that one day when I got him to check my pulse and God. . .I nearly came. I miss him soooo much! I should've asked IEHP about those "divorce" bullshit things that offices make and if there's any way I can get my doctor back after that. It would be nice if I could. If one or both of those whores at reception quit, maybe, just maybe, I can get her back but how likely is it of that happening? It just fucking pissed me off that because of the fucking Uber service fucking up the numeral portion of my address and sending my drivers constantly to the wrong one, I was late to my appointment last Friday and nearly missed it, and then when I got there, those motherfuckers made me wait like two hours just to be seen. Damon and Hyde were sitting there like:
Yeah, really. Damon even went as far as to propping his feet up against one of the office doors despite it not sitting well with Christian. And those cunts that work the front desk had the nerve to suggest I was a walk-in several times. "Uhh, no, bitch. I had an appointment! I told you that. I even told you why I was late." Yeah, so shut the fuck up and address me properly! When one of the hoes finally did call me back to check my vitals, we both noticed, including Christian (since he's the one who goes into the exam room with me by default at all my appointments), that my pulse ox was low and that it was fluctuating. She checked it twice. It got down to 93, but of course the damn doctor didn't mention it so of course he didn't care. I think Christian really wants me to find some better doctors, but the thing is, there are no better doctors. Not in this world. Not anymore. It's every man for themselves now. We have to take care of our own shit.
And on top of all this bullshit, I heard the fucking EDD is going to start requiring us to show proof that we're searching for work.
I refuse to ever work again as long as I have to wear a face diaper or take a poison shot. I mean, I could just make-up something but who's to say that they won't look into it to see that I did apply. I swear to God, if I apply somewhere and they call me for an interview, I'm going to ask them if it requires those two things and if it does, then no, bye bitch. And another thing, I can't work anywhere that requires me to be on my feet for more than four hours at a time or not even four hours. it has to be a sitting job with my plantar fasciitis. Plus, there's a fine line in that policy that says that it must be work that you can physically do without harm to your health. Well I can't physically do it because yes, it harms my health so I shouldn't have to be one of them to show proof because I can't work again until that shit goes away and until my plantar fasciitis is gone, which will probably be never. Along with my heart and breathing problems. Fucking assholes! Ugh! It just burns me up! But I will feel a little satisfaction in telling them where they can stick it if they think I'm going to bend over backwards for them and compromise my breathing or my immune system to work at their fucking company/store/restaurant. I have rights.
So yeah. . .I should just go browsing right now out of curiosity to see if those fucks even put that shit in their applications or requirements because I bet you $100 that most of them do now. Okay. . .maybe not. I don't know why I applied for 3 jobs. Just in case those fucks require me to show proof come Sunday. But we all know what I'm going to ask if they call me then bye-bye! I'll still have to lie about refusing work, but I didn't really refuse work because I'd be refusing an interview so I guess I'd be in the clear. Anyway. . .note to self: I applied at Walmart, Sketchers & Food 4 Less.
I took my anti-depressants because I at least don't want to be suicidal when my heart kills me. Christian was like: "Good girl." But before I let him get too excited, I told him I'm not taking my heart medicine and he gave me this look:
Sorry but I don't care anymore. Why should I? Other than about this fucking headache and toothache. I'm not going to tell Dom though. I'm not in a Dom mood right now, but I guess I should take some Ibuprofen, 800mg ibuprofen.
Taking stock of the character letters I have coming to me and the status of them:
Elijah Mikaelson ( written by Olivia ) | Abnormal heartbeat discovery / Come back to me
Elijah Mikaelson ( J & M ) | Abnormal heartbeat / Planet Coaster park / Feelings SHIPPED
Elijah Mikaelson ( KOlivia ) | Daughter or girlfriend abnormal heartbeat discovery SHIPPED
Elijah Mikaelson ( Maya ) | Comfort / Cheer me up
Damon Salvatore ( Olivia ) | Comfort / Cheer me up
Damon Salvatore ( Angela ) | Comfort / Life sucks right now SHIPPED
Damon Salvatore ( J & M ) | Apology for nearly killing me SHIPPED
Clint Barton/Hawkeye ( Jay ) | Health preventing me from joining The Avengers SHIPPED
Dean Winchester ( Jay ) | Author / Is this the other me? SHIPPED
Noel Crane ( Saf ) | Comfort / Encouragement for life SHIPPED
Dom ( KOlivia ) |Deployed again / Missing you SHIPPED
Eric ( Kay ) | Apology for kidnapping me & treating me badly
Christian ( Kay ) | Out of state / Checking on you / Miss & love you
Martin Whitley ( FallenWillow ) | Long-lost daughter's life sucks SHIPPED
Spike ( Ala ) | Heads up: Daylight rings in NOLA & Mystic Falls
Paul Dierden ( Kay ) | Bodyguard / Hot for him
I know it became a little repetitive with the Elijah letters, but at least there's some slight differences between them. If only a little. I probably won't use that one again or I'll see which one sounds most like Elijah. I'll keep them all of course but yeah, I just thought I'd try a few people who write for Elijah. And now I really have to take something for this headache/toothache so I'm going to end this here. And unfortunately, Dom already knows now because of Christian. Damn him!
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