Never-ending Bull Shit


Here I am again tonight or I guess it’s morning now 6:30 am to be exact. Just as I try to fall asleep on the couch, my bedroom door slams shut. No one is home but me, the dog, and the cat. I sit up to look down the hallway, nothing’s there… of course not. as a matter of fact my bedroom door even appears to be open. I turn into the couch my face buried in it’s cushions.

“it’s not real, I’m fucking schizophrenic, there’s no such thing as demons. There’s nothing here but me.” I repeat it over and over and begin to feel a little comfort in the words.

Then I feel a hand on my bare back, my shirt being inched upwards slowly. I stir and pull it back down and cover myself with one of the 5 damn blankets that surround me. Why do I have so many fucking blankets? Just as I settle in, again, repeating the same phrase out loud to myself I begin to get very very hot, as if someone is laying on me. I can hear my fan buzzing away and I know it’s pointed directly at me, it’s not on a rotation so there should be some kind of air flow. I still. Waiting, waiting.. I should be feeling something. What happened to my cool breeze? He’s standing in front of my fan and that bothers me. I’m more annoyed and angered at this point than scared. I HATE to be hot. HATE IT.

“YOU DON’T SCARE ME FUCKER GO AWAY.” I manage to make it sound like a yelling-whisper quiet enough to not startle Shelby but loud enough and with enough force to get my point across. He moves and I think hey, I did it, he’s finally taking the hint and leaving me alone. For a brief moment I feel like I’m in control, for one very brief moment I think I might actually get more than a couple hours of sleep today. Nope, of course it’s not that easy. There’s a tapping on my foot which turns to a more forceful hitting, someone trying to get my attention. It’s the woman. GREAT! What does she want? The same thing she always wants, to warn me. he’s still here. I didn’t scare him away. I’m no more intimidating to him than a bunny rabbit. Then I feel it, a big crushing hand grip tightly around my throat. I feel like I can’t breath and desperately reach for my neck. Frantically checking and re checking to be sure it’s not a blanket or my necklace causing me to freak out but there’s nothing there. Just the pressure of his grip and that’s all. I gasp for air as he releases me. I know he’s getting high off my temporary fear of not being able to breath. What has brought this on? Why has he resorted to physically hurting me to make his point? I guess I’ll be keeping the lights on again… I’m so tired my eyes are starting to blacken underneath which is usually something that doesn’t happen much to me. even when I’m sick I generally maintain a pretty clear and even complexion it’s something I’ve always been thankful for. I guess I’m starting to show my age. I’m no longer a 115lbs, 16 years old, or an avid runner. nope now I’m a fat ass that can barely sleep let alone exercise.

how wonderful just in the time it took to write out my little encounter, he’s been mimicking David’s voice and calling to me to come in the bedroom. David isn’t home. Cars gone. I made his breakfast, packed his lunch, and sent him to work. I just want to be normal. Why can’t I be a normal fucking person? Sleep a normal sleep schedule, wake up at a normal time, clean like a normal person, and be able to sit in a dark bedroom and sleep instead of resorting to this broken fucking “fold-out couch” for any kind of relief from this madness? I’ll be sitting her chain smoking, yet again waiting to completely exhaust myself to the point where I have no choice but to sleep. Scared or not.

I guess It’s just the never-ending bull shit you deal with when you’re crazy.


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