----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- lamest note ever sitting on my parent's bed in their house. I took my cat and left minnesota, even though I wasn't done packing yet. Grabbed the cat's things, my clothes, my laptop and phone. At the last minute I decided to tell my husband that I was leaving and he could come with me if he wanted. And he did, so against my better judgment I brought him along. We've been here since thursday, I think. Maybe it was wednesday. Or tuesday? I honestly don't know. I have lost all track of time. Nothing is going right. In fact, there is opposition at every turn for everything. the realtor we hired is a total asshole. Biggest asshole ever. Trying to work things out with the landlord in Denver has been a nightmare. After about 6 conversations with him to get a lease, we finally did yesterday and then trying to wire him rent has been a nightmare because Wells Fargo is the devil's assistant. I don't even know if I should bother moving to Denver. Almost all of my stuff, all of my art, most of my clothes, all my mementos (including my parent's ashes) are locked into several u-haul box pod things sitting in a warehouse in Minnesota. There is a little left in the Roch house that I have to now drive back up there to get tomorrow and bring back down to Iowa. More driving just because my husband can't get his shit together. He's delayed this move for weeks. I have had to work so far past my level of ability. I am so tired and aside from my cat, no one gives a shit. And my husband is too intelligent to get put in the mental ward again. I tried. I took him to the ER twice. they let him go again and again. Then I finally broke down and had my therapist call the cops on him to get him taken away because he is so psychotic, and the minute he saw the cops, he pulled himself together to be lucid enough to make it look like he was fine. And I got attitude from the cops like I had done something wrong. It's hard to put it out there, hard to get people to understand what taking care of someone who is psychotic from both untreated schizophrenia and meth abuse is like. A nightmare. A fucking nightmare that will never ever stop until one of the people involved is dead. I don't know what to do. The only option that seems like it would work for everyone is if I hung myself. Really, why put off until tomorrow what you can do today 3:28 PM - Saturday, May. 02, 2020 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||