That would be me.
The fact that I was born to TWO shitty parents who never gave a shit about me and abused me physically and verbally my whole childhood AND adult life.
The fact that I grew up in extreme poverty as a child (think no money fir heat, school supplies, socks, etc).
The fact that some guy didn’t feel like stopping at the red light and ran me over and I’m now fucking disabled.
The Universe said “Nah, that’s not enough torment. Why don’t we fuck her over MORE? with EVERY DAY little things as well?
So yesterday, I had a package containing 7 orders that got damaged in transit. It got returned to Amazon.
Today, my other order came with some kind of greasy gross detergent caked all over all my items. I didn’t even order laundry detergent, but that’s what it smells like. Got on everything. All 4 items. Took forever to wash all that shit off.
THEN, right when I was about to leave my apt, I knocked over my bottle of caster oil. Fuck me. It’s not like knocking over most other things. This shit is STICKY AF. And by sticky I mean STICKY. Spent an eon cleaning that shit up. Actually, it leaked out of the plastic bag and paper bag I threw it in so I gotta check if it leaked there as well when I get back.
And bc I was all tired from cleaning all that shit up, but I forgot something so I had to walk all the way back.
And this is ON TOP of my AH neighbors harassing me ALL fucking day bc they’re fucking AHs. They PURPOSELY attack me EVERY fucking day. Not just every day but EVERY SECOND. They turn this thing on that’s so noxious to purposely disturb me.
It’s one of those things where EVERYTHING goes wrong and NOTHING goes right. Except this is my every day life. This is what happens to me ALL the time, not just an occasional or random bad day. This kind of shit happens to me EVERY DAY. I’m not even kidding.
How exactly is someone supposed to “just move on with their life” when EVERY day of their life some bad shit happens? When you’re already dealing with all the bad big things in life.
It just wears on your soul. Sometimes, it’s the “little” things that wear you down more.
I’m tired. I’m weary. How much more shit can I take?