Yeah, like, argh.

It is 0330 hrs. I cannot go to sleep because my dimwit, idiotic brain wants to dwell on the bullshit I just went thru about 6 hours ago.

The same sorta crap I wrote about a little over 1 week ago. No, not the same, but my reaction drives me to insomnia because I can't do anything about anything. I can't say anything about anything because if I do I am told that I am twisting words.

I try to do this, I attempt to do that and it's BS. Then, I'm told that what I do is good, then it's people coming by and wtf is he doing on that tablet all the time... but he seems to not care that I am on that tablet all the time.

What Fucking People? Rarely does anyone visit, and if someone does drop by, I make sure to not tap away on ... well, yeah.

I have told him time and time and time again that no matter what I do or say and, it feels like, think, I am wrong and he is right. And time after time after time, I am told to "make allowances". All for him...

Lemme tell ya, HIM means my dad. He is caught in dementia. I have been staying with him for 4 days outa the week at his house for the past, what? 18 months? 2 years? I try my best to do what is right, what may help, what...

And I have forgotten about me. And I think that if I think about ME, then I am being self-fucking-centered because I am ignoring him. My dad. But... BUT, I am now, Right Fucking Now, just that much closer to saying fuck it and buying that whatever to just forget life in its entirety. Permanently. Find that damned bus or truck or (never tried) fucking crack pipe and say "Goodbye, you ignorant life." 

Ain't that amazing? After doing all that I did in the week following my meltdown, I am now feeling more angry, confused, helpless, unworthy, self-centered and just plain old useless than I have ever felt in my days (decades) of recovery. Worse than my daze with both my wives.

My sanity is shot. And do not give me that bullshit about calling someone because the first one I did call asked, "Don't you have, like 20 some years of clean time?" So, fuck you NA. Get enough time under your belt and they think you got it made, all figgered out.

I went to a meeting every day after my crazy storm out last Monday from my dad's house. Bought my smokes instead of that whatever. Went to a fucking meeting everyday until I went back to his place on Saturday. And here I be, because I couldn't say what was true, because MY words were twisting HIS words, because, again, I feel like no matter what... I am wrong and he is right.

I tried to think that maybe it'd be easier to think I am mistaken. Be nice, Robb. STFU, Robb. But, but, but... oh yeah, and But.

Right. Argh. And now, I am going to smoke another cigarette and wish I had some dimenhydrinate, Gravol to you uninformed, and just shut down. Tomorrow... no, today... is gonna be a fuck to get thru because of a lack of sleep. I have a mess of cleaning to do, I've got a 42" TV to set up because my dad didn't want the fucking thing, a 42" monitor to dispose of........... and now I'll shut up. Because NOW I REALLY want to get high, drunk, wasted... c'mon, gimme a fucking adjective to use instead of using. bye...

Keep The fucking Faith*

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