Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Kick Me Sign Must be in Place

I'm an evil,  selfish bitch who mostly just thinks about her own survival.

I shouldn't have come home.

I shouldn't have looked at Facebook (which no longer works on my phone,  btw, so computer only).

I shouldn't have read the message.

And maybe I shouldn't have flipped out at the answer.

But whatever.

I don't care anymore.

Kick me out. It'd be a favor at this point.

I'm done with getting attacked. I already feel inferior to my former self because of this breathing disorder. I don't need it pointed out. I don't need it shoved in my face.

And,  for once, I wasn't even inconveniencing anyone!  I'm paying hundreds of dollars TO AVOID inconveniencing these people. I just said I needed one more week.

Fuck.

Just.

Fuck.

Do people even care when they're being hurtful?

"So,  this paraplegic thing... Could you just walk for one day,  like,  up the steps of the Philly Art Museum?  I mean,  your limbs, if you suck it up,  you could walk,  right?"

That's what it feels like the conversation was. Except it's my lungs instead of limbs,  and breathing instead of walking.

It's mean.
It's hurtful.

And it's worth none of these tears.

I don't think I can Facebook for a while. I just can't take it anymore. There's a level of cruel and it's just been passed by someone who was once a friend and family.

I'm just done right now. I don't have the strength for this fight. I'm upset and I'm done.

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