This is killing me. I'm way too skinny and it's not getting better. Everyone is trying to marry me or have me or corner me some kinda how, and none of it is working for me. Any kind of cornered, even a velvet padded looking corner, is going to make me mean. Being flown all over hell for "fun" is just getting on my last fucking nerve anymore. I don't care what's for fucking dinner (obvvvviously), 3 stars 8 stars I don't give a shit. 

I don't want to lose my mind any more. Everybody has lost their damn mind. Someone needs to knock it off 🤨

I know I should fall all over myself over this big med school ivy leagues whatever, but I cannot make myself get with that program. I stayed near my people, working class students trying to go into traumatizing healthcare professions. Between such students and me, in this med school context, is all this SHIT, I thought NUR was bad but this is next level wtf at every turn. And all I do is grow my awareness that this is very fucked indeed, and my instinct is to FIX IT. But instead, dinner. Until I want to rip the dicks off of all these perfectly nice men who are being so very very nice to me. 

Then I do my actual job for a spell and learn Toughie has been disappeared, name off door and office packed up. Wait. Text him, find him, stop him. You don't know what you're doing or why, my friend. I know what a PTSD brain looks like, and it is you. I wrote a whole thing about it (that's why everyone is flying me all over!) - I'm one of the reasons that "ongoing trauma care for life" is a warning label on folks who get cured by dramatic interventions, you're changed by invasion of the body. You are not cured. You are alive. There is no cure for THAT. There are only better or worse conditions for it, and living in constant upheaval is very bad for a traumatized brain.

I know that. So why am I doing it to myself? I have that brain. I know better. But I don't know what to do because every choice is one that my heart rejects.

The last time a dude came on to me by marrying someone else, that also made me lose my damn mind, but at least my brain chemicals liked some of it.  My brain likes none of this, in NY or in AZ. None of it. I'm mulling that over, as I stop Toughie in his tracks from killing himself some more. It takes just a few sentences, and his traumatized brain is wholly focused on SOMETHING ELSE. "See?, yes, I can do that, I own your brain right now. I'm going to give it back to you. If you elope, I swear to God I'm going to put a tattoo on your ass, for real."

Him: you gave someone an ass tattoo? (He is no longer thinking about anything else, which should keep him busy not-killing himself for a spell.)

And I too must STOP. I'm slated to go to AZ again on Sunday for 10 days, on this merry go round of dogchild care hassles and a constant headcold of being here for days there for days, my brain reeling in time zones endlessly. If I get on that plane, it will be for the LAST time unless someone puts something in front of me that I WANT. And no, I don't WANT to get fucking married. (Obvvvviously.) 

I'm going to drive a stake through hearts, and free mine, even if it kills us all. 

Please, Mary mother of God, lead me out of this fucking mess 🙏 or just, Mary if you can hear me, please send snow. Remember that one snow haboob that hovered over my mother-in-law for days that one time? Like that. Between now and Sunday, any time, would be great.  

No song 😪