June 22, 2011

Probably Shouldn’t Read This Rant I Wrote While Angry

(I wrote this while I was really raging. Really angry and depressed. I left a bunch of really angry tweets and stuff in my wake. I’m still angry about it, to some extent, but have mostly chilled. Still, here it is, uncensored. I can’t bring myself to write something more entertaining and I’m just… yeah. Seriously, though, thanks to everyone who extended support on twitter and otherwise about this bullshit. It’s more than I deserve, really.)

Today I was supposed to start hormones!

Man, did that get fucked up!

I call to make sure they’ve received the letter to let me do this stuff today, just to be thorough. Turns out, no, they have no idea where it is. Nobody has it. It’s gone. I can’t have the appointment if I don’t have the letter. There’s a slim chance I could get a copy of the letter from Dr. Friedman before the appointment, but it’s very unlikely, as the appointment is before she’s actually up. I don’t have a copy myself. They lost the one I got in the mail. I had to cancel because otherwise they would charge me for the appointment anyway. Soonest I could get in again was next week.

Another week! Another week gone. Another 7 days of my life where I don’t get to be myself. Another 168 hours of not having what I’ve been wanting and working towards my whole lifetime. Just another fucking disappointment. Another fucking delay.

Seriously, at what point do you just give up? When have you been fucked around and jerked around enough? When do you just give up on life when life won’t give you a fucking break? I mean, what’s going to happen next week? Car break down? They lose the letter AGAIN? Won’t accept the copy I bring them? When does it end?

It doesn’t end. It never ends. Being yourself is a failing prospect in the world. Depending on another person for anything as simple as taking a fucking letter out of the mail is impossible, as it will never amount to anything. No amount of effort on creating yourself will ever be worth anything. No amount of hopes and dreams will ever come true. This is a world where you aren’t free to decide any fucking thing about what you do, where you go, or who you are, and if you dare to deviate, dare to hope that, at some point, life might work out and be something positive, well, you are fucking wrong.

Years ago now, I pulled myself out of depression. I pulled myself up, and I decided that I could do this. I could make things better in my life. I could be myself. I tried. I tried to do everything the way I was supposed to. I was patient. I was nice. I didn’t push anyone.

When do you let yourself be pushed around enough for being nice? When do you say that enough is enough, and bullshit is bullshit, and fuck you and how you’re keeping me down? When does that happen? When the fuck does that happen? At what point is “Well, it’s not that big a setback” no longer acceptable? At what point is “In the big scheme of things, this is nothing,” no longer alright?

I am telling you, that point is right now. It’s no longer alright. It’s no longer fucking alright. Everyone holding my life hostage can fuck off, get their shit together, or enjoy my fist slamming into their face.
Fuck.
I give up.

They lost it? Jeeze. Next time, see if your doc can fax it over or something. Or staple it to their foreheads.

Comment by Cris — June 22, 2011 @ 12:42 am

:-( Uncool people are uncool. Disorganized/dumb people who lose important documentation are even less so. It sounds like their chaos could be remedied by a visit from the Borg Queen. She’s awesome with the whole “bringing order to chaos” stuff.

I think I have unimatrix one in my phone somewhere…

In the meantime, may the Force be with you. :-)

Comment by Joshua de Vries — June 22, 2011 @ 1:58 am

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