I can’t eat, I want to throw up. There’s no food in the house, anyway. Bitter rage fills my waking hours, and my sleep is haunted with bad dreams. Vision of death and destruction rise before my eyes, and I am not talking about dolphins, I am talking about those who kill and imprison them.
Sometimes the haze clears and I can think clearly for a little while. Then I break down in tears. Anything can make me cry. A beautiful sunset that I will never see again. The fate of the dinosaurs. The misery much of the world’s population endures. The thought of war, any war, and brave innocent men dying so fat cats can inevitably get fatter. Then, I want to tear someone’s throat out.
I’m trying a new medication for mood control, actually one I’ve used successfully before. But it doesn’t seem to be helping. Perhaps the dose is too low, or I haven’t given it enough time.
Money is tight. There’s little food. Every time I eat meat I feel guilty, but I cannot bring myself around to full vegetarianism, much less veganism. I look for jobs on Craigslist. I found a couple of good gigs, one photographing condominiums and houses for a rental company in Colorado, but after a couple of shoots the work seems to have dried up.
Like last year, I dread the onrushing summer. I lie on my thin futon mattress, sometimes for hours. As long as I am immobilized, I cannot get into trouble or do anything bad. Outside, the grass is growing longer, and vines wrap themselves around the trees and bushes.
A month ago, I had an episode of racing heartbeat. I tried to “convert” it, that is, make it return to normal, by myself, but nothing I did helped. My friend – my then-friend – Cay drove me to the hospital. My heart was doing 180 beats per minute when they admitted me to the emergency room, and my left shoulder felt like some giant animal had seized it in its jaws. They administered some medication, which made the tachycardia stop, but soon after they moved me upstairs to recovery it started again and I spent the night in intensive care, surrounded by strange machines, noises and blinking lights. I was so tired, I slept anyway. They kept me for two days and left me with about $8,000 in bills I cannot pay because our wonderful governor, Rick Scott, decided not to involve the state in the Affordable Care Act. Just before this happened, I had checked how much it would cost me to get health insurance the way things are set up: $418 a month, more than half of what Social Security pays me.
I hate Republicans and everything they stand for. They all seem to be liars, racists, sucking off the middle class and reducing us to poverty. Just look at the last pair we had in high office, W. and The Torturer.
And then this happened: My friend Dieno, a 65-year-old man who works as a doorman for a posh apartment building in New York City, came down to visit for his annual vacation. Dieno had purchased the house one down and across the street from me, where he plans to retire. He introduced me to Cay 10 years ago, and she lived with me for five or six years before I threw her out for her horrible bouts of alcoholism. Now Cay lives in Dieno’s house. Well, when Dieno arrived, Cay went on a bender that lasted two weeks. It was horrible. She lay around naked in her own vomit and let her dogs shit everywhere, just like she used to do when she lived here. She cursed Dieno and raged at him for no reason. This man has given her a car and a place to live, and this is how she treats him? So as a result Dieno’s vacation went to hell, and he had a miserable time playing nursemaid and bartender. I would have let Cay suffer, let her get into her car to try to get some beer all by herself. See how far she would have gotten, dead drunk. I don’t know why Dieno enabled her the way he did, he believes in a god he has to answer to, but I don’t.
As a result, I can’t even talk to Cay any more. My number of friends seems to be dwindling, and I am so afraid of being alone.