Archive for gofundme

Deflated And Defeated

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , , , , on August 12, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Today sucked. No mega calamities, but had to do the shop thing for 8 and half hours with whiney nagging spawn in tow..And of course, feeling tapped out psychologically means every single tiny thing is like a chainsaw to my psyche. Kid nags and nags and has fits and talks when I answer the business line then knows I need to help a customer so THEN she demands my attention or I am the worst mother ever…And three TV’s and an amp came in today and I heard NOTHING from R about what was done and who needed called or stalled.

Which leads to my other problem. THE NEW ASS TRASH DUMBASS SMART PHONE. I can make and receive calls fine. My holy grail, unlimited texts, are not working AT ALL. People text me, I get nothing, they get mad. I text them, they get nothing, I want to throttle my wireless carrier. I spent an hour on chat support and this dude told me we’d gotten it all fixed and hours later, I can send a text but it bounces back as invalid recipient, or I don’t even get that much so I am all stressed over buying a new phone and expanding my plan on my own dime and my SERVICE IS STILL GARBAGE. I never had so much trouble with Tracfone prior to becoming involved in their Lifeline/Safelink program, since the it’s been nothing but dropped calls and texts that never send or get received or come days later. Yet they won’t own anything even when I have spent almost two hours in a week trying to get this stuff straightened out.

The powers that be are trying to pass a new bill so taxpayers won’t be forced to fund phone access for poor people. I think this is shitty but considering MY CRAP SERVICE under the government plan in spite of me purchasing my own phones and shelling out for extra phone and text services…Something is broken here so our Lifeline isn’t such a safelink, now is it?

Another problem popped up with the car. The driver’s side window had a piece fall off so now the power window kinda bobbles in the frame, and come winter, that is gonna be frostbite city but R says my rust bucket is so old finding that little chintzy piece is gonna be difficult and pricey. Which means, of course, I owe more of my soul to him and his shop and whims and yes, I need the help cos, gotta have a rolled up window during winter but…

Nearly 3 months with a defiant screaming child and her daily mob of friends…I am on thin ice here. Yesterday I said no to her taking her new MP3 player outside and…this is what she did during her tantrum.

Yeah, she sat in front of her door thrashing and punching and kicking until she kicked in the bloody wall. I even recorded the audio to go with it, where she told me how much she hates me and wants them to take her from me or she wants me dead.

Everyone says it’s normal kid stuff, I am overreacting, but kicking in a wall, saying such horrid things to her mother, and being so out of control, even if is periodical and related to me saying no to her whims…Something is wrong with my child. I don’t care if she need meds or therapy or yoga or gluten free cardboard tasting rice cakes…SHE NEEDS HELP. She keeps playing the “I have anger issues” card because I tossed it out once to R as a joke. While it may have some ring of truth…she makes her choices. They say no to her all the time at school and she doesn’t get in trouble or even get notes sent home.

I think my rude awakening was yesterday when one of her friends knocked during her tantrum and I went to tell S that Spook would not be playing any more that night…and my daughter came raging out of her room, in hysterical tears, screaming, and she shoved me and pushed me right in front of her friend.

Normally I am a badass who won’t tolerate being mistreated to that degree. Thanks to Snowflake Society and The Pathological lying snowflake brigade…I can’t even reach for her arm to guide her inside because she will yank free hard enough that a mark is left and I turn out to be the bad guy simply for setting boundaries.

This child is kicking my ass. Every part of me prays to pegacorns, spaghetti monsters, and whatever deity gets you through the day..let this violent behavior be a phase, let it be something that a lot of therapy (if ass trash donor’s insurance will even pay) can help, or even meds, again, IF his ass trash insurance will cover it.

But the ass trashiest donor (oh, sure, there are way more awful sperm donors aka dads but Spook’s deserves a special reward for being so emotionally immature and oh will it bite him on the ass come court time for posting proposal pics with his old gf on line while still married to me only for them to split up and him move on to another woman and they too split…) Least amidst my psych damage I am still able to form attachments to my child, my pets, my friends, my possessions…

He may hold a job and convince people with his fakeness but he is far more broken than I will ever be.

Another thing that really brought me down today, something that never really hit me before which makes me think maybe policies have changed but…my kill the bugs fundraiser..Three good friends saw fit to donate a total of $170. After gofundme and wepay take out their fees and percentages, it amounted to $130. Not that I am without gratitude, I was able to get an estimate (three bedrooms, two baths, and cracked walls and crevices, it’s gonna exceed the $500 I thought was aiming too high) and I did order a big batch of the pricey but very effective stuff I used last time to weed out the ickies…Just irks me that fundraising sites would deduct THAT much, like I am robbing those who were kind enough to donate and because of the fees I still have to keep begging and pleading so I can swing the professional year long contract that is the ONLY way to slay all the roaches.

I am so grateful to those who donated and I pray with all the noodley goodness of the flying spaghetti monster and sparkly rainbow farting magic of the sacred pegacorn me and Spook can get a few more DONATIONS.

And ya know, if you find the on line “scampaign” thing daunting…we’re more than happy to just have the bug killer sent to us via on line purchase or even a prepaid gift or visa/mastercard. We’re not looking for a spa day and endless skiball at Chuck E Cheese. Opening the cabinet without it raining cockroaches…YEAH, that is what we want.

THIS IS A NOT ANOTHER SCAMPAIGN.

And so now that the life has been sucked out of me and even my own child makes me feel unworthy of drawing breath and nothing I do is ever good enough yet I am so exhausted a little part of me could use a couple of days resting at the Rubber Ramada cos damnit, adulting is hard, and it sucks even more when you’ve got chemical imbalances in your brain…

Hopefully tonight I can sleep. No demand to be at the shop tomorrow morning. Maybe I can breathe. Or maybe I can stop being convinced I have bugs in my hair cos I’ve been checked and checked and no one sees anything even if scumbag brain says otherwise…(Kinda like after I got doped on depo provera and was convinced for a year I was preggo even with periods and dozens of negative preggo tests.) Pregnancy and childbirth and single motherhood have really turned my brain to mush and paranoia, and it was bad enough due to brain damage long before that….But the idgets around me fail to see just how difficult it has become, how bad it gets…

Cos by midwest mindset, one you have a kid, you cease to be capable or entitled to anxiety or depression. So says my classy as fuck family.

The final insult…The weather here is changing, getting cooler, even tree leaves are starting to change colors in spite of almost 6 weeks til the fall season change…Both my knees are killing me and that only happens when using steep staircases daily or…change of weather. I like being in pain, it’s awesome. Oh, no, wait, it isn’t. My brain is frigging burnt toast.

So my kid is more erratic than me and violent at age 8. My death trap bucket of bolts car has another problem I can’t afford to fix. The cockroach problems worsens and the “ever so helpful” fundraisers and pay out places rob you of much needed money so kindly donated by such amazing, caring people…R is asking more of me than I have to give and it might get me a bag of cat good or a pack of smokes, but he’s driving a shiny 2005 Mustang while criticizing my ’93 rusted Buick so even if he does keep his word on getting me a better car…

Will my sanity be in tact enough for it to matter?

Don’t get me started on all the political related horrors that pop into my email inbox.

Even without bipolar and its soup de jour byproducts..I think this day and age is as appropriate a time as ever to feel horrified, scared, and ashamed to be an American.

And that is my truth, not my disorder or their distortions. A country that strips away your rights, spits on everything our founding fathers valued, and our leader is being considered a mentally unstable ‘nuke war starter’ by his own people all because he WON’T STAY OFF OF TWITTER…

Feels like I am living a cross between the movies Strange Days and Gattaca. And badass as I may be, I am petrified. Brown eyes,dark hair, too many extra pounds, little proper education, no job AND mentally defective…

Question isn’t why I am so deflated and defeated and scared.

The REAL question is WHY DON’T THE MASSES REALIZE THEY ARE ON THE CHOPPING BLOCK TOO AND FEEL TERRIFIED?

Mental distortions due to psych disorders and psychological damage don’t always mean we those eschew it should wear tin foil hats.

Honestly, we only do that on Wednesdays when we get THE INCOMING MESSAGE FROM THE BIG GIANT HEAD and put on our foil hats, but that’s subterfuge to cover our spaghetti tentacles as we are busy paying homage to his noodliness.

Life is really shitty but as long as you can find humor like that…Guess life has robbed you of everything just yet. And if it doesn’t make you smile, smirk, or become incensed to hear me be so sarcastic about it all…

I gotta try harder and be a better writer. That’s all that has ever mattered to me.

The typos alone should tell you that much. Love me, love my writing, love my typos. Unless you want to work for free and proofread. In which case you are like OCD and we’re not gonna get along so….

LONG LIVE THE TYPOS AND THE TIN FOIL COVERED TENTACLES.

Pardon me now, I am gonna slither off to bed and hope for a few hours I can dream about anything but my current mental state and reality. Even nightmares are better because they do end when you wake.

No, not being Debbie Downer. This is just where I am right now. In my dreams…my bills are paid, there are no roaches, my car runs properly, and my kid adores me. Who wouldn’t prefer that to a reality that is the opposite.

NO MORE BUGS, HELP!!!!

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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.

SINGLE MOM BEING BUGGED

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.

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…

Visit my campaign, read my story, and KNOW I AM ONLY ASKING FOR HELP BECAUSE MY 8 YEAR OLD DESERVES NOT TO LIVE IN A ROACH MOTEL.

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.

YEP.

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.

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.

When Molehills Really ARE Mountains To Be Scaled

Posted in bipolar depression with tags , , , , , on April 1, 2016 by morgueticiaatoms

Newbie Kitten Pic

 

I have nothing new or important to say.

But in keeping with the sunshine spewing therapy mongers…I did complete a couple of goals today and I want to pat myself on the back. Only cos the shovel is out in the shed and I am too lazy to go get it and whack myself in the head with it.

1.) I fixed a good super- meat, potatoes, veggies, fruit.

2.) I showered.

Now it doesn’t seem like much but…that molehill, for me, really is a mountain. That I scaled this much…I have to let it mean something.

Tomorrow’s goals, aside from paying bills, is to finally get my ass out to the lab for the lithium level draw. That and try not to hide in the closet to escape my kid. If I hear “Mommy” one more time…It’s like she is in love with her own voice. And even when I am saying yes, she has to argue with me. It’s exhausting.

Now…go look at our newborns and click share. If nothing else…normal people love kitties and will get a smile.

Smile.

Bedtime. My brain quits for the day.