Happy fucking birthday to me!

I have something to confess...I can't handle this.

I am proud of myself for stepping out of my comfort zone and applying for this tour guide position, but this has been too much! I need fucking time alone, and for the last fucking six months it has been work then classes, then work then classes. I have had to be "on" basically ALL THE TIME and I have only just recently joined the world of the living, the two years prior to this I was living day-to-day, with my only life goal being not killing myself. This is too much all at once. I think it was a good thing for me to do, but I am buckling.

I am supposed to go to some stupid tour guide party. Fuck you and your fucking parties. I have given so much of my fucking energy to this fucking museum, and now you expect me to come fucking socialize?

This is in bad form that I am not going, I RSVPed, and, I am not able to even go to the tour guide luncheon. But I would be late and only stay for a half hour anyway- me bawling my head off right now is just my way of giving me what I want- an excuse to not go!

I hate to admit it, but I am having "suicidal ideation" for the second time this week. It's a wierd selfish thing, like that is something for me. Like I deserve some time to myself...and dying would provide that WTF? I talked to the therapist about this and she has hooked me up with a psychiatrist and suggested I increase my medication in the mean time. This would be a very good idea. I feel myself slipping. I am really not sad at all, but my body isn't cooperating with me. I can't move or think quickly enough.

Something really shitty happened to me this week. My desire would be to take full accountability but my captain really fucked me over. I showed up at the last minute for two flights, not late, but not appropriately early. Well on the third day, in the morning, we had a van time of 8AM, and I arrived at 8:01, to see the van drive off. I could have been stabbed, I could have had a heart attack, but the captain not only didn't check, he didn't even tell the driver we were missing someone. This is really bad form on his part, really bad.

I want it to just go away. I hate pointing the finger when I screwed up (a minute late is bad, but the punishment does not fit the crime) I have to fly with this motherfucker next week. I am so pissed. This was his way of punishing me for arriving at the last minute (and maybe for giving a book [all he knew about-but I guess sex IS the only thing some people could imagine] to a ghettoish black van driver) and he performed the punishment anonymously, he wanted me to miss the van and feel punished, but for the flight to not be delayed, then he could make it seem like he is a good guy and on my side (what I believed, until a buddy, who was in the van, told me that it was 100% intentional on his part.)

Now inflight has called me, and I have to explain why there was a delay-basically the same as tattling on him. He could have just waited 30 seconds to a minute for me, and then told me when I got in the van not to show up at the last minute, but instead he had to be the biggest two faced jerk in the world. If you saw how nice to me he acted the whole trip you would have sworn we were friends.

I am so angry at life. I know this is disease speaking, but I feel like I give and give to life, and it wont give anything back...like its a one way relationship. I am aware of how sick this thinking is, and that I have to adjust my medication, quick. I have to make an appointment tomorrow, every day I wait the harder it will get.

Andogynous depression huh? I am going to adopt foster kids with andogynous depression. This just can't be in vain. If my life doesn't mean something then it's not worth it. I better make a fucking mark on this fucking earth because honestly, right now I am angry that I am here.

I am not willing to come up with a good conclusion to this post.

mood: I feel like going to a party, where the attention is on me