Why I am trying to Raise Money

Posted in gofundme campaign, mental health with tags , , , , , , on August 10, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

For those unfamiliar with my plight, I am going to repost my original post frommy Go Fund Me page.


I am a single mom trying to get by on limited income. I rent and my landlord won’t pay to exterminae the place. I have used EVERY product known to man, at my own cost, and still the roaches and assorted other ickies return. Two years ago, I had finally gotten it under control then my neighbors moved out because they couldn’t handle the bugs they had. I begged the landlord to at least spray a line between our homes to keep their bugs from moving in with me and my child. He did not do it and here I am again.
With school starting, summer power bills, treating the cats for fleas, food costs…I just don’t have the money for extermination as local companies require you sign a 12 month contract and that adds up to more each month than I can afford without my kid going hungry. I am asking for help because I am embarrassed for anyone to visit lest a roach come creeping out. Not all people who get roaches are unkempt slobs. These bugs were here from the moment we moved in and nothing I do helps because the landlord has high turnover and any time someone moves out, their bugs come to my home.

I could probably suffer til I manage to save up, but I am terrified my lack of money could result in someone saying I am an unfit parent and my kid lives in an unfit home. My daughter is my life and she deserves to be able to get a cup out of the cabinet with a bug jumping on her. Even if you can spare five dollars, it adds up. Please help if you can’t or at least spread the word on social media. This is humiliating and I am using what over the counter products I can but none of them eliminate the nest and….

We simply need help.

So that is our story. We don’t want the money for superfluous reasons. We need it to improve our home’s liveability. I have tried to do my best as a single, disabled mother with limited resources, I never asking for assistance that wasn’t absolutely necessary for my child or keeping a roof overhead. It pains me to ask for help even now but the problem is just getting worse so even if you can only spare five bucks.. Your help is appreciated.

Here’s the link again.

Even a repost or social media share can make a difference if you’re in the same boat as me financially. Thanks for reading this.

At What Cost

Posted in anxiety disorders, biolar disorder with tags , , , on August 10, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

So, yeah, I did my time at the shop in the name of bartering for automotive work and help with grocery bills…But then I fetched my kid and she wasn’t with me 3 mins before darting to her friends. Then ten minutes in she is bawling because the older girls were having a sleepover but The Devil Girls claimed she has head lice so she was left out. Five mins after that one of the ringleaders was back and my kid was elated to be graced with her disloyal bullying friend’s presence.

The Devil Girls’ dad yelled at my kid the other day and told her to get her “ass” out of his yard so I got a can of spray paint and put down a thick black line to demonstrate OUR yard from theirs. I told Spook, cross the line, he is within his rights to call you on it. However, if you’re on our side and he yells at you again, I AM calling the landlord and the cops because this is frickin’ ridiculous. REALLY! His eldest was held in the church office Sunday for saying “motherfucker” on the bus toward my kid. People like him are why those of us living in trailer parks are called trailer trash. I gave my kid a boundary, told her if she crosses the line I put down, then she is technically on his lawn and he can protest. Still, in her own yard he has the white trash audacity to start shit. Every single day this entire summer and there’s fuck all I can do about it. I turned his kid in for stealing the mail from my mailbox and called the cops and they all but patted her on the back and said it was ok and mom and dad nodded along.

So in addition to 8 and a half hours of brain bugs (and soon as I said the shop was dead then people started calling and coming in, ewww)…And my kid mouthing and saying she wants a better mom who lets her do whatever she wants and I ruined her life…Then R tells me he needs me at the shop the next two days and frankly, we need food so I can’t really say piss off so I am trapped…

I keep hearing how mentally imbalanced people can lead NORMAL productive lives as long as they take their meds, do therapy, and have a support system BUT THAT IS RUBBISH. I am on the precipice of a total nervous breakdown and people just want more and more from me, because hey, being broke means my mental issues don’t matter and I can ‘tough it out’.

Yet here I am, cringing when a kid or cat touches me because I have zero personal space and wanna scream and run and hide and my brain is on overload and that damned mosh pit in my brain of brain bugs is still rampaging,,,

I need a shower but I’ve got nothing left in me. Everything aches. My brain just wants to sleep forever. I was making headway, the Trintellix was helping, but the minute my anxiety level syrockets and people put me in a position that, yeah, sure, maybe I can muddle through…

But at what cost to the little progress my treatment has made psychiatrically? At what point am I entitled to say, “The price I pay psychologically simply isn’t worth losing months and months of progress in the treatment of my disorder> Oh, right, broke people don’t have the luxury and mentally disordered people don’t have the right.


I was on the mend and now I am falling back into the abyss but because I got my dates mixed up I am facing disconnection on my power bill (bad credit punishes you for life) which is more financial stress and R expects me to “be a good friend’ and suck it up to help him out even though my car has been fucked up for months and he’s not had a single ten minute jag to take it about and maybe discern the problem even if he’s made two dozen promises. Oh and that’s my fault too for not reminding him, but when I remind him, he gets irked.

I forget the gainfully employed and educated get to make those of us in a smaller sinking boat feel small, blown off, and less important yet totally indebted.

Since my fundraiser to get the roaches exterminated is going so poorly (thank you to who did donate/repost/share!)…I have no choice but to be R’s bitch, and the cost to me is immense and I may actually devolve.

At. What. Cost. When is sacrificing your mental well being and hard won progress an even trade to make sure your kid has food in her belly and a car to get her back and forth to schol cos the ass trash district won’t allow her to ride the bus since we don’t meet the state guidelines in distance for them to be reimbursed (by.2 tenths of a mile.)

How much of myself must I toss down the drain in the name of survival? Because if doing so results in me melting down and being able to offer my daughter nothing,,,


Why It’s Not So Easy To “Get A Haircut And Get A Real Job”

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , , , on August 9, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

After being hunted down last night by R because my prepaid droid and his contract iphone apparently don’t get along and I got his texts but he didn’t get my replies…He is apparently back to the old ‘real’ job thus today I am trapped at the shop. The first four hours I made Spook suffer with me, then I arranged for my sister to fetch her so at least part of the day wouldn’t be blowing-out-my-brain stressful.

Not a single call. Not a single person coming in. Not even a to-do list from R. Just sit here and watch shit on my computer and try not to lose my mind from boredom.

What’s the worst part is…The Brain Bugs Are Back. Being in the dish, in a place where people could call and come in…My entire body feels like bugs are crawling all over me even though they are obviously not.

This irrational anxiety has plagued me throughout my life, from school to dating to working to marriage to raising my kid. It is crippling. My every instinct wants to lock that door and drive home fast as I can because likely the brain bugs will subside or at least stop putting on heavy metal concert with my central nervous system as the mosh pit.

And this is why I am on disability and have been for some time. Because employers need reliable logical employees who aren’t convinced bugs are crawling all over them simply because their central nervous system and brain chemicals have gone haywire. They don’t want to hear about your months long depressions where you consider one shower a week your major success story, let alone being able to get out of bed, think coherently, and be productive to their schedule and standards. They don’t care that some days your memory fails, aphasia sets in (using the wrong words, kinda like when I said get the frogs off my skin and meant to say bugs), your hands shake so you can’t do anything that requires dexterity with your hands. Forget your stomach churning and all the trips to the bathroom, that’s an inconvenience and makes you more trouble than you could ever be a value as an employee.

Perhaps for some considered to be slackers, it really is as simple as getting a haircut and getting a real job.

For those of us with the mosh pit of battling brain chemicals inside our skulls…

It’s not that simple. It’s not a matter of sucking it up or getting over ourselves. We are not lazy. We take no pride in our inability to be high functioning. We are embarrassed, filled with shame, we have low self esteem to begin with and the world robs of us what tiny bit remains because we can’t meet their standards of the norm.

I used to think it was okay because for thirty years I’ve had all these mental health professionals aligned with me, saying, yes, your disorders are crippling and making you unstable to hold a job, you NEED disability checks.

THEN I got and read shit like this:

How would an immigrant Donald Trump fare under the neo-Nazi-approved “legal” immigration plan he endorsed last week? He’d probably be targeted by his own deportation force.

Columnist Catherine Rampbell writes that the “economy-crippling bill”—which opponents have noted is really an effort to cut down on non-white immigration and make America white—“change[s] how ‘skills’ and ‘merit’ are defined, replacing our current employer-centered system with a points-based one” that awards points for “age, education, and extraordinary achievement.”

Original link to that is HERE

Yeah, Yeah, Morgue, you’re an American, what’s the big deal? The big deal is it sounds like financial eugenics. And first on the chopping block are gonna be those of us who by society’s standards ‘don’t make any contributions’. Paranoid? Yeah, so were those who saw the holocaust coming. How’d that turn out?

Perhaps I am proving my own point here of just how whacked out the brain bugs have made me.

And let’s not forget the real bugs that reside with me and Spook. In the two minutes it took me to put ice in my cup and pour water, a roach had crawled inside. No one should have to live that way simply because their priority is feeding their child and keeping a roof overhead. So…The CAMPAIGN continues. Thanks to those who have donated, and please do if you can and spread the word if you can’t, maybe there’s some kind person out there or maybe even two who don’t know me but get…Living with bugs is not a choice and unfortunately the goverment won’t allow me to sell a kidney to pay the Orkin guy.

And just remember…having a disability is not synonymous with laziness or not putting forth effort. Luck of the draw and we with legit disabilities got screwed. But then I guess the masses can’t understand it. But if it happens to them at some point…they will. And they will find out what a cruel place the world really is.

Grossed Out By Roaches? Ours don’t even pay rent!

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , , , on August 9, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

YEP. I am doing the FUNDRAISER THING because our landlord won’t pay for an exterminator and my limited budget has maxed out on OTC bug killer. So before you judge me as as being skanky or dirty or whatever…


That link again is

Single mom, on disability because of brain damage, minimal child support slumlord neighobor and we..simply need help, $5, a repost, share, spread the word on social media…we are an 1/8th of the way donation wise to being able to get a pro bug slaying company to kill off these unwanted pests.

On the bipolar/anxiety front…I did dishes, swept, srubbed, cleaned the bathroom, scrubbed freezer and fridge (amazing how stone cold fury motivates, my kid has a knack for startind drama amongst her trailer park friends and I have the audio files of her kicking, screaming, name calling, and punching walls to prove how awful she is when told the word “no” and all the older girl did was come tell me Spook had lied to me where she was going to be and was in an area where she could get hurt, but in Spookland, that;s being a traitor, thus I guess I have myself a Trumpling.)

Very atressful day. Then my new phone was working ‘right’ while R hunted me down cos he’s getting his real job back and wants me at the shop tomorrow so I got bitched out by him even though I WAS replying to his texts but turns out…smart phone requires you dial 1 plus area code plus number, which I didn’t know and pegacorn knows how much of my prepaid time was wasted on that crap…

I agreed to appear tomorrow, though not with a huge chip on my shoulder. I have to take the spawn with me and it’s…more stress than I need but whoaa, he gave me a car stereo and installed it thus I apparently owe him shop tending AND a kidney…

Rubber Ramada ain’t looking so bad as it would keep these toxic beings away from me….

I am toughing it out cos I have witnesed the loyalty of my handful of friends who even if they can’t donate, share the link to my campaign. I don’t want to lose you guys, love you all to smithereens.

Soooooooooooooooooooo…IF you can spare five or ten in my effort to evict and eradicate the roaches so no one calls me a bad mom for being broke….Please please please. If you can just repost, share, or pass it on on social media….Please. If not for me, but for my kid because I damn well know 99.8% of people cringe if visiting and they see a single bug. WE didn’t choose this but if I can’t spring $500 for the Orkin man, I sure as hell can’t afford first month and deposit and moving fees and utility trasnfer fees to get a better address/home.

And now…melatonin/Xanax combo is telling me it’s beddy bye as I have to be up at the crack of ass to go to the shop and repay his highness for the car stereo and his labor installing it.

Some people make us with mental issues think Rubber Ramadas seem pretty damned appealing.


To The Brink

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , , , on August 8, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Once again…My kid and I are sick of living in a roach motel so even if you have it in your heart to skip a $5 mocha foamy hazelnut coffee-esqe six pumps no fat cuppa whatever to donate or simply SPREAD MY CAMPAIGN ON SOCIAL MEDIA…Please. And YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, every single person who has shivered at the sight of a bug inside someone’s home and been repulsed yet done nothing but pass judgement as opposed to trying to help with the problem…Yeah, those people. I know those people real well, they’re called family and friends. Too ready to judge, but unwilling to even throw a $4 bottle of boric acid my way.

Not that it works, I’ve been making pastes and traps and sprinkling the concoction, it’s like putting a Snoopy bandage on a chainsaw inflicted wound.

Oh, yes, I have my bitch on. Because after two and a half months of my kid being home and the last four days of birthday part(ies) misery and all her kids bickering and I ruined her life because the devil girls’ dad won’t let them play with her because I am monster…

Forgive me if my manners are out the window. I am two steps from signing into a rubber Ramada. My self esteem has tanked because if this roach motel is the best I can do for my kid, she probably deserves better than me. And it’s all about the damned money, not my inability to care for her or unwillingness to work to be rid of the problem. Always with the damned $$$$ and it’s NOT BLOODY FAIR to be judged as some sleazeball or lousy parent just because every cent you do have goes into feeding and clothing and sheltering and transporting the child to school.

For those who think only slobs who are dirty get bugs, think the fuck again. My sister, The Queen Of OCD Clean, still had to hire Orkin for their old house because old houses have cracks and crevices and bugs move in and eviction notices don’t work for them. So sick of the judgments and assumptions. Amazing people couldn’t wait to donate when it was for vet care for a sick pet. I love my animals and am eternally grateful to everyone who helped when they needed them.

But three days in and not a single donation when I am trying to provide a more fit home for my child?

People have some bizarre priorities.

And don’t get my over stressed panicky bitchiness wrong…I realize 99% of my friends are struggling same as me. What they (you) have that I don’t is that social networking thing. I loathe Facebook and just to start an account to beg for donations seems shadier than Zuckerberg himself. So I thought I’d reach out and say “Look, this problem is so bad they could deem me an unfit parent just for being broke” but…Two people have given an inkling they care even if by simply reposting or empathizing.

I guess I’m just that unlikeable, I don’t know. If unlikeable is a synonym for “frustrated, depressed, a nervous wreck, and pissy that the world is a vapid place of judgment and little empathy”…Yep.

I am the devil.

It will get better once she goes back to school and my anxiety lessens. The bugs will start to move out once it gets cold a few months from now, I can keep putting ineffective Snoopy bandages on and…

I never should have started the campaign, I knew it would just leave me more depressed and disillusioned. Like this glaring reminder that if I were more socially skilled, more of a social butterfly, I’d have people who cared and would share even a repost or whatever or hell, even a “I’m glad I’m not you, Morgue, that shit sucks”. Alas, I am just…me. No social skills, no job, nothing special going on…

WAIT! I know YOU! That’s the depressive self pity talking. Yeah, well, go to hell, self pity. I am in a lousy situation but I am a decent person 89.9% of the time and I try 110% for my kid all the time. So if being dealt a lousy hand in life means I’m a loser, then I know I am far from alone because outside of the 1 percenters…Most have their crosses to bear and it doesn’t make them bad people. Least they don’t have to share mental space with The Depressivce Self Pity Monster, though.

Jerk doesn’t even pay rent.


Posted in bipolar depression with tags , , , on August 7, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Suffice it to say the pony party for Spook Saturday went ok. My stomach was a wreck from the moment I woke to hours after we got back and I barely slept Friday night…Fortunately, everyone was civilized. Sorta. This dysfunctional family always has an incident or two but at least they were like dud firecrackers instead of bottle rockets.

That is Spook riding the pony Sassy Pants. I thought it was so nice they had all the pink ribbons in her mane and such. She only gave a ride or two then they noticed a limp and she has the equivalent of a human with an ingrown toe nail so she has to see a vet.

That is Pepper pony, the kids rode him a bit more but honestly…I felt bad for the ponies as well as my uncle traveling 90 miles to bring them to town (Bumfuck, not our town) and the various brats paid more attention to the swingset and trampoline. I kept walking over to pet the ponies and talk to them and tell them thank you for letting the kids ride them.

The PLUS side was my sister’s friend M and her brood didn’t come and her friend Bty showed minus her bf and his 3 spawns. Down side, there were 40 people there and only 8 were remotely related or known to me. I had such stomach issues I kept running in to use the bathroom which of course made everyone assume I was anti social and convinced I am too good for them. Then my uncle made a comment about how I don’t talk much but HELLOOOO? Anxiety around crowds.

Genius stepmonster served 40 pork chops with one package of buns and an empty bottle of bbq sauce.

The horse cake dad’s neighbor made.

As for me…I tossed some fake blue streaks in my hair just to keep with being ‘the weird one’ in the family Their weird is my awesome.

(I even wore make up and earrings, Trintellix must be doing something good!!!)

Perhaps not my finest parental moment, I begged my kid for this from her temp tattoo gift she got cos…

I AM…THE FLASH. The little known blue one, anyway.

My part in the birthday shindig was to let her friend S sleep over 2 nights and I took them to Wendy’s for 50 cent Frosty’s then a free ferris wheel ride (it started pouring rain once we got stopped at the top and then they shut it down, we were all drenched).

Tonight is just pizza and cake and ice cream at my mom’s. I’d say no biggie but I just know my sister’s friends and all their spawns will be there, ugh. They are so much older than Spook, they just come for the free food. I will tough it out. Because I have to.

What has me stressing is her meth head friends, I mentioned them in a prior post. Well they need a place to live and everyone knows my slumlord pretty much rents to anyone if they have the cash and now my sis and them are expecting me to be a reference. Honestly, I don’t know these people well (I do like J’s mom a lot) but what I do know…I ain’t putting my residency on the line to back some meth heads who lost custody of 3 kids. (I forgot they had the third one, he was taken away when he was so little but seems to be thriving away from them so good for him.) They do drugs, sell drugs, are renowned for house hopping and bailing when they have no money…

I can’t be judging on the house hop thing, I have found myself many times in the situation of no money thus having to bail out of a rental place and I have shit references to prove it. I’ve been here 8 years and shit as it may be, for the rent I pay and all the inclusions and space…I’m not getting tossed out for these meth heads I don’t much know. (I hooked the donor up with them when he wanted to buy pot back in the day, not sure that’s saying I know them, simply of them.)

Grr, being put in these spots. And I had money stolen from my purse Saturday at the shindig cos for whatever bizarre reasons various redneck teenagers were there (for the free food, I guess, dad and his woman know them) but I can’t dare mention it or file a report because then it will start family war and their friends’ perfect teen snowflakes would never mess with an unattended purse let alone steal…

Right now Spook has her friends R and S here on my living room floor and they’re into my 40 plus bottle nail polish stash and I think our brain cells are dying off from the bloody fumes. But birthday girl and all that stuff. I only spent about $22 on her birthday and feel cheap but at least she got three shindigs and more stuff out of it.

Now mommy wants someone to gift her with a spork of fortitude/aka/Canadian whiskey and coke.

Fuck me, right? Meh. 9 days and she’s back in school. Tick tock. Can’t wait. R best not bug me because I texted him twice as there is a hose hanging off my car which might be why it is running so crappy but he can’t even bother with a ten second ‘fuck you’ reply. When he needs his stupid parts, the favor will be repaid.

Not petty. Turnabout.

UGH! To My Chagrin, it’s fund raising time again

Posted in bipolar disorder, gofundme campaign with tags , , , , , , on August 7, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

This is my campaign.

I have done the math ten ways from last Sunday and next Sunday and…I cannot pull off the one thing my home needs the most: an exterminator.

The landlord won’t spray and every time someone moves out, the bugs move in with me. I had it under control 2 years ago after spending hundreds on over the counter stuff (Advion gel and Combat gel bait are THE BEST) then my skanky neighbors moved and I pleaded with the landlord to at least have his guys spray a line between our homes to block the bugs from coming here and he didn’t do it.

My kid had a friend sleepover for her birthday and I was MORTIFIED when the kid went to get a cup from the cabinet and a cockroach fell on her.

This goes beyond me being a less than stellar housekeeper as the roaches were here when we moved in 8 years ago and even then the landlord said nope, he only sprays once before people move in, after that, it’s on us renters.

Just by doing this campaign I am embarrassing myself and probably putting it out there that I am a bad mom thus some well meaning but still an asshole could claim I am unfit and they could take my kid away from me.

But this time…This is necessity. Even if you’re in the same boat as me and can’t donate, spread the campaign link on social media and share, share, share. I’m doing all I can with the stuff on hand but it’s not killing the nest and even the bug foggers have failed. I need a professional and they’re not doing it just because my kid is cute and I can be flattering. And if you don’t trust internet people doing the right thing with the money, feel free to just mail me the bug killing products. That is all I want. Not an iphone or ipad or better car or nice clothes. I just want my kid to be able to fetch a cup or plate without a bug crawling out of the cabinet.

So…if you can, I hope you will. If you can spread the word, yes, please. And if you can’t do either, it’s ok, cos I get it.

I haven’t done a campaign in a long time because I try to make do with what I’ve got but this bug problem…

Spook and I need help.