From rain comes rainbows

I swear to the sweet motherfucking baby fucking Jesus this shit is getting weirder by the fucking minute.

Okay {A}, honey I can still see you, don’t think I’m not marking it down. I have spreadsheets at this point because again I have 4 analytics running. What one doesn’t pick up the other one does. You’re really beginning to bother me so please fuck off. This is not the place for you. I know you think {D} is innocent and you’re trying to quell your own insecurities. So here’s a burn for you. After the apocalypse I asked him if he loved you more than me. He said he wasn’t sure, it was different between him and I. So there, go cry or something. Just go away. Whether you choose to believe it or not, I am a rape victim and the woman that is supporting him really sets me off emotionally. Let’s not over-traumatize Katie. I’ve been traumatized enough. You want to ask question? Man the fuck up and do so and get it over with so I don’t have to see your iPhone on my stats several times a day and think about you encouraging his behavior, you sick fucking bitch.

Moving on Ackers is it? Get a better computer. How can you even see on that low of a resolution. And win10? Jesus.

And no one but Reno noticed my new page with new never before heard audio and the original email that started the chaos and possibly lead to the destruction of the division of insurance.

Speaking of DOI, I’m reading Kipper is out too soon, destruction level 10 on my part I guess. Todd left and took a job {D} interviewed for with the exchange. Who would have thought an email complaint would cause such a ruckus amongst the government types. I will state that my email was blocked to send the complaint to Kipper. I tried 3 times then I tried using the normal naming method for DOI and that bounced. So I sent it to the deputies, legal, PR, and {D} subordinates who I KNEW were union reps because after being blocked, I wanted to make sure someone saw it.

Now someone in Reno copy and pasted every page of the website last night. What, they’re making you all work nights so you’re not on the state ISP because Nevada is the second least educated state in the country and that applies to the IT guys too? How fun.

Again can you motherfuckers just arrest me already? Or ask? What do you want to see? I have a legitimately confidential way to reach me on the contact page. I can’t tell identity you specifically. I can tell where you are and other stuff like that but if you’re not in a small town ({A}you stupid cunt, he told me you were dumb but the extent is baffling).

This is the library of my trauma I am the librarian. Ask. I know the answer.

And just as an aside, this blog is an arc of trauma, mental illness, recovery with a little substance abuse mixed in with a dark sarcastic humor and a lot of profanity. I wasn’t okay until at least April or May. I don’t return to a normal life until probably late last month, then the {A} started stalking my shit drama started and now I live with multiple computer screens going at all times. Im like fucking Santa. I know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. I went one month off my meds. I was doing really well then I had that neurological episode at CVS and was afraid to go get my meds so I stopped taking them for a month in May into June for the first time in over ten years.

You are reading not some sort of gotcha document created for legal purposes, you’re reading my diary. The diary of a victim. The diary of a woman with severe depression and complex PTSD. You’re reading about my suicide attempts. You’re reading about my childhood abuse. That’s what you see in front of you. You don’t necessarily get my good days. You get meltdowns and me talking about the trauma in my life and what I’ve been through. Im acknowledging it for the first time. I always made it a joke. All of my trauma in my life has been one big fucking joke until this happened. Like someone took a razor blade and sliced off my eyelids so I can’t look away. This is my diary and my recovery and my ups and downs. I just ripped the fucking lock off so everyone can see what it is like and someone could be helped by it. It’s fucking ugly and messy and fucked up. But it’s real. This is what it’s like. This is what rape can do to a woman. It ain’t fucking pretty.

There are texted between {D} and I where I keep saying something good had to come from this. Out of everything bad something good must come. From rain comes rainbows. It's still a fucking hurricane right now. I hope this can help someone eventually. I hope I can do something to help people.

Also buy some fucking tee shirts. I clearly need money for a lawyer at this point.

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