Not Better, Much Worse

My apartment was broken into on the weekend. I don’t know if anything was stolen. I am still in Miramichi and cannot return yet. I am stuck in Miramichi, trying to write overly optimistic crap, when my world is falling completely apart. I am homeless. I may have been robbed. I’ve certainly been violated. I don’t want to stay in that mice infested place. I don’t want to think about strangers (human) looking through all my stuff. I don’t want to think about what may be missing or what might have been touched. I don’t want to go back there. I can’t find a fucking place here!! FUCK!!!! FUCK!!! FUCK!!

My head is splitting. I’ve taken 1800mg of ibuprofen. I shouldn’t have a headache. I shouldn’t cry in the office. I should eat something. I should be writing. I just want to go to bed with my dog.

No more. Nothing else. Ok? I can’t deal. Coping mechanism is at 0%.

Mood: beyond anything imaginable
Drinking: water
Listening To: mighty convos
Hair: crazy

2 thoughts on “Not Better, Much Worse

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  1. Kel, this is terrible, terrible news. Isn’t there anyone in Sackedtown who can help sort out things there, who can secure your apartment until you get back there. What a mess. Best wishes on getting a new home fast!

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