I almost typed that in all caps, as well as using three exclamation marks. That’s how upset I am right now. I want to swear. I want to curse. I want to throw things. I also want my security deposit back if I should ever choose to move out of my apartment. I received an email today from NAMI, the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill. The subject was the American Healthcare Act, the “revision” to Obamacare. This was the first sentence of the email: “Congress just unveiled the American Health Care Act, which ends the requirement that Medicaid cover mental health care.” Medicaid is the only reason I am able to get mental health care in the first place. I am on disability for my mental health, which is what makes me able to receive Medicaid. If my mental health needs are no longer covered by Medicaid, then I have to find a way to pay for bills, food, therapy, psychiatrist visits, and around $1,000 worth of medication on $735 a month. WTF?!?!

The Direction of My Life

My depression has been very bad lately. I am disgusted with the lack of positive change in my life. When I look back at the past 15 years I am horrified at what has become of me. Where was the awesome college experience, which was supposed to lead to a Master’s degree, followed by a Doctorate? What happened to my awesome career as a scientist? What happened to moving somewhere, anywhere, other than where I am now? If I could answer these questions, I probably wouldn’t be so miserable.

I realize that this blog is a lot of me whining and moaning. Poor me, my life sucks, feel sorry for me, etc, etc. Which is not cool. I need to grow up and take some responsibility for the things that have happened to me. Yes there are many ways in which people and events have royally screwed me over, and made me miserable. It’s my own fault that that misery became permanent instead of just temporary. I need to get off my behind and do something about it. Anything.

I could write more. Blogging might lead to a career, you never know. Also, if I can’t be an environmental advocate (my career choice when I began college), then maybe I can be an advocate for mental health care reform. I have a feeling we’re gonna be needing that last one given the direction the U.S. is taking. I could also combine the two, by blogging about mental health issues. And no, I don’t mean by talking about my own personal problems all the time. I mean by doing research on current events and how they might affect people with mental illness. Or by suggesting positive changes that the healthcare system could make to better serve the mentally ill. I just need to try. Trying and failing is better than not even putting in the effort to begin with.


I’m feeling very blah.  Not bad, but not great either.  I hate life and the act of being alive, but am not suicidal.  I think it’s partly my fatigue.  And my frustration over the doctor’s refusal to do the proper tests on my thyroid.  I won’t go into details about which thyroid hormones are which, so I don’t bore those of you who don’t have hypothyroidism.  Let’s just summarize by saying that out of three tests the doctor could be running, he is only going to run one.  He claims that my insurance will only pay for the one, when I know that is not true.

I have also been told that I might have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. If the blood rests that my doctor is actually running come back as normal, he’s pretty much determined that this is something I have.  I am freaking out.  I am sick and tired of being sick and tired!

Busy…having a breakdown?

I feel kinda weird.  It’s hard to describe.  I’ve been doing pretty good lately; feeling pretty good.  Yet I feel keyed up and on edge. Maybe it’s the extra cup of coffee I’ve been having with lunch, or maybe it’s the type of over-stimulation that happens to anybody with Asperger’s when their routine changes.

I’ve been volunteering at the food pantry once a month for the past three months now.  Also, I’ve been helping out at the Salvation Army on Mondays and Tuesdays, helping to pack sack lunches for the school kids that normally get free or reduced lunches in school during the school year. I’ve been spending more time with friends, both old and new.  It’s  a lot for me.

So while nothing bad has been happening, STUFF has.  I’m used to a whole lot of nothing going on in my life.  It is going to take some getting used to, but it will be worth it to have a purpose and a reason for getting out of bed in the morning.  It feels good to be useful and needed by society again.







They call me a weirdo

but I’m not the only one.

So called Autistic me cares

more than I think the Normal people do.

I care so much it hurts

that they don’t care in return.


People confuse me

they say “how do you do?”

They don’t want my answer

but bombard me with theirs

forcing it upon me

like an audible rape


I won’t be rude

I’ll listen to what they have to say

Then I’ll run upstairs and hide

lie on my couch and cry

stuffing myself with food

so there’s no more room for hurt

Maybe I don’t care after all

Status of my neighbor’s gall bladder

I’m sure you don’t care how my neighbor’s gall bladder is faring.  You don’t know her after all.  I don’t know her very well myself.  Yet, after seeing her in the lobby and asking her the standard “How are you doing?” greeting, I was treated to a briefing on her last doctor’s appointment, and the fact that said gall bladder needed removing.  Arrggghhhh!!!  I’ve got to start charging by the hour, no, by the minute.  I’d make a fortune just by walking downstairs to check the mail!


Oh…I’m ready to go

Away from this place

This mad human race

I’m ready…


Life…it’s not what it seems

No use having dreams

Of a time or a place

Where I can escape

It’s too late


I am living dead

Dizzy thoughts in my head

Of what could have been


If I…if I had been happy

Just a little bit happy

Now and then

Here and there

Amongst the despair

I sit here writing

These words full of angst

Like some love sick

Teenage emo

Even though I’m full grown

Dreaming of a world never known

Called Life