Hopelessness

It’s been a while since I was in the abyss.  The trouble with trauma is a trigger can put you back there in a minute. A violet aggressive women who would portray herself as a ‘victim’ has attacked my friends and I seeking the support of legions who live to rescue criminals and terrorists and pay them all the while abusing the folk who show up for work.  Think of my colleague threatened and then all the dangers of the public emboldened by the Trudeau’s of the would that loathe ethics and morality celebrating drugs and disorder. It’s appalling.

I am taken back to the patient threatening to kill me because I wouldn’t see him on crystal meth threatening to kill me.  He complained about everyone and all of them were investigated and had their lives turned upside down by these above the law communist functionaries that purpost to protect and serve but instead pour fuel on fires and protect themselves. A year I had this fellow threatening me and nothing was done for my protection or care until the police called me saying the man was threatening the PM.  Now I’m threatened again, indirectly , witnessing the abuse of good women and men doing their duty.  

Now I’m not feeling like my head is in the game. I’m afraid. I had fleeting suicidal thoughts remembering the death threats and sexual abuse and physical abuse and the pain. I’m tired of the chronic pain though with good doctors I’ve moved from sharp pain too just soreness . It’s getting better after a fall a year ago. Everything is getting better. I’m blessed. But there was the weekend devoted to nightmares, intrussive thoughts, shaking and dissociation. Back in the cell back in the false accusations back facing the nest and feeling utterly alone. I know I’m not.  The beautiful women involved are brilliant and handle this systemic aggression so much better than me. I’m crying spontaneously again. Unable to sleep, thoughts racing. I’ve been nearly killing my self in several near miss encounters on the motorcycle.  Self pity is rearing it’s head along with fear. I’m surrounded in a dream with men with weapons and I’m naked and they’re armed and clothed.  Life does’t seem so good at 4 in the morning waking from a nightmare in a cold sweat and remembering the arrogance and grandiosity of the virtue signallers chosen for their Nuremberg features. They’re just doing their jobs and I’m wondering about how culpable I am too. I’m feeling less and less capable and feel less tolerance for the violent and entitled.  

The expectations of perfection that come constantly from on high remind me when Joan Byaz In Rolling Stone said we were all on the mountain and couldn’t see each other because the tiny few at the top had shit making machines and it was all the shit that stopped us from seeing all of us and how there were so very few of them.  Shit making machines.

I’ve tried meditating for an hour and it was wrestling with my conscious. Jacob and the Angel. I wasn’t very capable at all, mind like a mexican jumping bean.  Fear. 

I want to run away. Death has it’s appeal then . I just don’t want to do this sordid little scene that destroys the very thing it purports to help.

I’m afraid. I’m looking at escape. I’m not fully present. I’m vulnerable. I’m aware that the hurt people are hurt by my distraction but that’s what’s happened in the past. One psychopath backed by the war machine have beat me up endlessly for months and sometimes years and I’ve suited up and shown up and gone to work

I have this dream of camping in the south and in a camper with a motorcycle and it’s that ‘attachment’ that attracts the water boarding. I feel self pity and these people with all this power cause me to feel I’m pushing the wheelers shopping cart and homeless again.   I’m alone and afraid. More night mares.  Falling asleep in the afternoon. Utterly fatigued. Paranoid about strangers .

I have written gratitude lists. I’ve talked it out. I’ve been reassured. I ‘m not alone. I’m just the oldest one of the group under attack. I’m feeling I can’t go on and that aging is more humiliations and degradation, that the psychopaths with the Justin Trudeau’s and Xi Jin Pings now rule and I’m a fool. I’m ashamed of my naivity.  

I’m so tired. I’m just exhausted.  I fought tech and alone handled the lack of secretarial support and knew I was facing legions of administration and these pavement people in boardroom boxes making committee decisions while I was alone and unarmed and trying to defend myself with no time, overwhelmed by the unbelievable number of demands that are arising now as everyone is down and the lack of resources is increasing.  Supply chain failures.  And more people expecting me to solve the problem and extorting attention and demands and threatening with attitude and rolling eyes and powerful demands and I’m cowering and waiting to be hit like an ownerless dog in the rain in th street.

I walked me dog and exercise, hours and still I’m dead inside. I was okay for a couple of hours then look of disgust and I felt it. I’m not good enough .I’ve never been good enough d enough and I’ll never be good enough.  That’s all you do with your judgemental ness and criticism.  I gave. I gave blood. I gave in multiple injuries and I’ve been kicked repeatedly when I’m down. I’ve been betrayed and where are the Wilbury’s when we need them.  Forget Joe Di magio.  It’s like the matrix world of hero’s disappearing, Lightfoot and Tina Turner and the wall of reality is breaking down as I’m drawn closer to the death and this abysss.  I pray. And I’m protected.  I’m no longer outside grace as I fear I was when I read Phillips, Your God is too small.  I have an inferiority complex. I am a people pleaser. I’m poor.  I was ruined by divorce and all I tried to do was my best whic h was never good enough.

Now I’ve got to combat the negativity with gratitude. I’m actually hungry.  HALT .  I’m have ing drink less pout and temper tantrum, an indulgence in inferiority and what I need is to make a sandwich. F.E.A.R. - fuck everything and run or face everything and recover.  I’ll get through this day.  Thank you Jesus.