I’m truly frustrated as fuck. I’m so tired of the way I have suffered nearly every single fucking day for a decade from some kind of shit or another. If I’m not anxious, I’m tired or there’s something else. But my hands are tied. Because of Tom, I can’t end my misery. I still care more about what he wants more than what I want, but oh, how I wish I would get something that would kill me! I know that won’t happen, though. I trust my intuition too much not to believe I don’t have many years ahead. They will be tough but they’re there until I just can’t take it anymore.

The same thing happened last time around only this time I woke myself up snoring at 5.5 hours into my sleep rather than 3.5. Also like the last time, it took me an hour or so to get back to sleep.

Again I find it hard to believe this is all one big coincidence and that nothing’s been cursing my sleep in one form or another all my life. It’s like with the dream premonitions. After you have a few you think it’s a neat coincidence. But when a few become dozens you know it’s not.

We looked at snoring backpack pillows where you wear this vest-like thing with a cushion in the middle of your back to keep you off your back. It seemed a bit bulky and uncomfortable. When Tom did additional research, he found someone who said to just tape a tennis ball to your back. Well, I was thinking I may start with one of those small plastic containers I store my diamonds in for diamond painting. This way it wouldn’t be anything bulky and annoying but I would definitely notice it if I shifted on to my back.

This doesn’t mean I still wouldn’t wake up to pee or for no apparent reason and struggle to fall back asleep. Having my sleep broken up is such a killer on me. The older I get, the harder it is on my body. My biggest concern right now is how hard it’s going to be to get to my appointment on the 13th. I’m going either way because it’s a very important appointment but I just wonder how exhausted I’m going to be that day. At least it’s close!

I’m just starting to feel traces of burning again down there too, which tells me dryness wasn’t my only issue as I suspected. It’s probably connected to whatever was raising the WBC count in my pee.

Different subject. A sick twisted bitch I call Termite Tammy.

This poorly written 2009 message from my dear sister said, “you should of jumped from a higher window and saved your family all this hurt and grief.”

And this is someone I forgave and let back into my life for nearly a decade?! Shame on me!!! Really, WTF was I thinking???

My eyes are now wide open to my past stupidity but I’m ashamed and even embarrassed to know how long it took me to finally stop giving toxic people not only second chances but third chances and sometimes even more. I guess sometimes we just want to believe that people really are aware of their mistakes and are determined to change. But they’re not aware of them and even if they are, they don’t think they’ve done anything wrong and they’re not about to change for anyone or anything.

When I first started editing the part for my blog where she and her brood pulled their twisted shit on me in the summer of 2009, I kind of laughed and shook my head at just how childish and utterly insane they were and will no doubt always be when reading back on some of the nasty shit they sent me that I copied into journals. I mean it was just fucking ridiculous. Forget just immature, it was completely asinine and dumber than dumb. These people can’t even write much less make sense or know what the hell they were even talking about. On top of the stupidity was the sheer evilness and vindictiveness.

But when I got to that part about jumping, the giggles turn to anger and this time more at myself than at the termite because I should have known better than to let someone like that back into my life when I knew damn well what she was capable of in the past. She caused me so much trouble throughout my life but there I was, oh so nice and oh so forgiving, always wanting to try again as if a miracle could happen and they’d be anyone but who they always were.

Despite the cruelness of her words, I’m also glad I read that because it was the final clincher in getting myself not to care about those who don’t care about me which I’ve been working on for a while now. So no, I don’t want to hear from Nane because I’m finally smart enough to know better and to know that we would only get into another argument in the future and one of us would dump the other. And no, I don’t want to hear from Maliheh either or anyone else I’ve ever had problems with online or in person. From this day forward, one strike and you’re out! I don’t care how much history we may have. I don’t care how apologetic you may be and how much you swear never to repeat your mistakes.