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

Add yours

  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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