It’s October, My Ghoulies!

Things have changed in weeks for me and while I was out fighting my insurance to cover the liquid that could cure and allow my ulcer to heal–I decided to give up and just do an old trick and crush my pill and soak it in any liquid and drink it–

YUM CHALK!

It’s helping already because while it’s crushed up, it can lather down my throat into my stomach and coat my ulcer all right and allow it to heal, though it’s only been a week since I’ve been doing this and I have a whole month’s worth …it’s frustrating how difficult insurance can be and I have the best insurance possible for the States that is. If you haven’t guessed that I’m in the States and worst of all, Texas.

EWWWWWWWWWWWW

Did I mention that I got a raise? Because I did, 50 cents an hour and honestly, it’s surprising the way I always work and manage not to carry so much with me afterwards, regardless, I met our new SOM, aka the Front Head of the Front End Department which I mentioned last entry, which I didn’t get but glad I didn’t afterall. I realized that I didn’t want it after they explained that it entailed going back to things I didn’t like doing which was math—Please, tell me I’m not the only one that cannot do math like my trauma made it difficult to process things in a logical way and it sucks, because it stops me from my ultimate dream of being an astronomer. Something that I’ve wanted to do all my life but honestly? I never felt confident in my abilities in owning my knowledge even in anything, really. I really did try to go to school or rather back to college with my bio mother because we blew up and she disowned me. No real good reason though it seems to me that it doesn’t matter because the bad people rarely get their justice, unless it’s violent and quick. I won’t name names but I will say that I don’t advocate for violence by any means, but if irony kills you, then the universe was saying something to you regarding that. Karma, bitch!

The raise is nice, but it’s never enough to what I do, and it’s disheartening really to see everyone day after day working this job full time and still having to work two or more jobs. When did it become like this? Where did the dream of sustainability go? Our dreams of owning homes and such, though that can be a nightmare honestly from what my aunt has shown me and no place of employment pays enough. It never does knowing that I will forever only ever be clocked at 17 an hour at 40 hours every week with no guarantee of overtime but we are always short and short staffed in a lot of ways with people calling in and management complaining but if we don’t, our customers get upset. And don’t get me started on that either, they are the worst with them flirting with me, threatening me or just being down right acting Karen like because the supposed sale price didn’t come up or they refuse to download the app to make the digital coupons appear. Or they don’t know how to work self check out which I often take care of, really.

And some of these if not most are men old enough to be my father or grandfather really, and it’s shameful really, just the amount of disrespect and misogyny is plagued at grocery retail. Believe me, I am no right winged person but my views are more left like democratic or even marxist socialist than I care to admit. I have no doubt I’ll be again assaulted at my work and if that happens, I’m liable to sue Tom Thumb for all my pain and suffering…because I fear for me, because I’m too nice and too young looking that it has happened once, it can happen again. Men are not held to any standard and I hope to god that I’m protected and never seen my abuser ever again and if I do in private setting, I’m decking him for the emotional and mental abuse he gave me after being fired for inappriopriate touching of my back without my consent at work.

I’m just weary of men and therapy because somehow I have to forgive my mother who didn’t have the tools etc; blah blah but my mind is fragile and I suffer from severe mental illness aka Borderline Personality Disorder and Bipolar Disorder and PTSD, and somehow gotta take meds for the rest of my life….No. I refuse to forgive even to give me peace because she still knew better. Next time line, I’m not coming back and doing this again. No amount of love etc; will make me come back to life again.

That’s why I quit therapy—I refuse to forgive.

Also, cut my hair again! ^^