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British thugs, I guess.

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Hello, fellow window-in-the-neighborhood.

Hello.

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PS: Sign up for support group.

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Note to self:

Move PCP, therapist, and “case manager” (whatever that means) to Walnut Creek.


Everybody hates.

Everybody hates me.

Everybody hates me when I’m in love.

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I always have to be in a defensive position. I always have to anticipate their psychic violence, their assault of me, I have to anticipate their moves and their needles of psychic death, where they will move, using my experience, because I have suffered this long, I have been stabbed that much, and now I know, a little bit, very little, how to move, defensively, how to move, to avoid pain.

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Whistle goes “woo-woo!”, amiright?

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Oh me? No, I just sit around stabbing needles into my ass all day, thank you very much.

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At least I’m–

Never fucking mind. Shouts from the party next door instantaneously proved me wrong.

I’m totally fucking disturbed, horrified, and damaged. There’s no reprieve. It’s over.

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People always try to paint me as this malicious criminal when all I’m trying to do is get by. Jesus fucking Christ. Fucking humans. So disgusting. I loathe humanity for what it does to me.

I can’t just live anymore. Everyone needs to fucking screw me.

Fuck you fuck you fuck you and fuck you.

Srsly.

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I should probably keep it up with my new therapist.

Then again, on the other hand, on second thought, he’s a bitch-ass cunt nigger so I don’t really think he could help me very much. He literally, I shit you not, recommended I try to meditate. Me. On two antipsychotics, with clinical grade akathisia, inability to sit still for more than a few seconds, inability to focus on anything for more than a few minutes, with thoughts so disturbing I would do anytyhing just to distract myself from them.

He doesn’t have a fucking clue.

Oakland. Totally royally boned place. If the medical establishment in Oakland is that shitty, then I understand why everyone there is so fucking unhealthy. It sucks.

Plus.

Well, I guess there’s no plus.

I really need this SD card reformatted so I can reboot my Raspberry Pi so I can do Mathematica stuff on it. That sounds like the most fun thing to do tomorrow, besides tennis. I wonder if I will be too psychologically harassed (always tell it from your side!) at tennis tomorrow to even be able to play.

Risperdal doesn’t work for me. Aripiprazole does seem to. I don’t know. Both my psychiatrists at Oakland lied to me and fucked me, and legitimately, if I had the balls, I would sue them both. But I have a family, that doesn’t want me “in trouble” so like duh why would I exercise my legal rights. That constitutes getting in trouble.

Getting in trouble is being fucked by them in the first place.

They don’t get it either.