Every day just blurs together and I feel like the last seven months I don’t know my head from my ass anymore. I cycle from being extremely depressed to wanting to skin my ex husband alive- sometimes all within one hour. I can write about my anger towards my ex husband because in no way shape or form would I ever be able to actually harm that whackadoodle so this isn’t premeditated anything, just a salty ex wife complaining.

I want to get to a point where I don’t have this searing rage. I miss my best friend and my life partner, and mental illness robbed me of that. I won’t sit here and say that I think my marriage is fixable, because no amount of medication pumped into that psycho would ever erase the abandonment issues he’s created and the lives he’s ruined. There’s some things I could have forgiven and looked past- this sure as fuck isn’t one of them.

My suicide attempt in 2015 taught me that I’m not meant for an easy exit and that it’s embarrassing as fuck surviving things that kill everyone else. Like I don’t believe in god but continuously saving a loser like me seems like a shit move on the big guys end. Only the good die young, and I’m not the good. My suicidal humor has been a stronghold and probably one of my strongest assets. I’m not going to off myself but I sure am going to make jokes about it enough you’ll question if I’m serious. Liver failure hurts and I’m too stubborn to have drugs or suicide be my cause of death (can’t prove the haters right there).

I’m still here, still begging for sales. Check out all the stuff I can’t put on the website over at https://www.facebook.com/share/g/1Awhc6PEHt/?mibextid=wwXIfr