Personal Notes

Dear god, I hate communicating with {D}’s lawyer. First off, she is just a stupid fucking cunt. Second, she is completely unprofessional. I don’t fully grasp her hostility toward me unless my theory on how {D} knows her was correct. I would also place money on the idea that she was never planning to be the attorney of record; she was just there to drag it out and fuck with me. Now she is a little pissed I went after her with that notice of improper communication. Oh well, fuck her.

She said that we aren’t having a prove-up hearing. We are having a hearing to decide if there will be a prove-up hearing. The notice says “prove-up hearing.” But alas, LawyerBoy said it is just a hearing to see if I get the prove-up. I don’t fucking know. I wish I were an attorney. Fuckers.

In other news, I need to talk to some of y’all. I’m going to address you personally.

1. {D}, sweetie, did you not enjoy my posts? Just scrolling and not reading? I thought you read everything I wrote. I guess not anymore. Take what I said in the last post to heart. You need help. I know you’ve been drunk since the 8th grade, and I am certain it would be scary to try to quit. You’ve never lived without alcohol. But seriously, you lose control. Fix it. Choose you and fix you. You’re not irreparably damaged.
2. {A}, welcome back. I guess I jumped the gun on that one. I know you have my number, and you’ve called my phone before. Seriously, if you want to talk, I’m here. I noticed what time you got checked in last night and given what I said in the last post about that I’m worried about you.
3. The former Mrs. {D}, two fucking hours reading, and you didn’t at least message me about Florida? Come on, tell me what happened. He said 72-hour hold, something about rehab. You know, and I could really use the information right now.
4. Burlington, my friend. What is up with you, babe? You have been here a lot in the last couple days, and you visited some other pages. Get in touch. I have a list of about four people you could be, including just a random who is interested in the story. Message me. Just reach out. If you have to do it anonymously, that’s fine. Just chat me up here when you get a chance.
5. Young lady, I do hope one day we can talk. I want to explain my actions to you. No pressure though. I know this is probably difficult on you. I’ve always been worried about you. {D} always said with this weird look on his face, “she’s like me.”
6. Counterterrorism, not to leave you out: go fuck yourself. That’s all I have to say to you.
7. Utah, who the fuck are you, and why did you copy and paste that post? That was weird.

And to the rest of you: thank you for the support. Even if you don’t support me, you are helping me by making me feel like my voice is heard. I appreciate it.

Finally, I am on a new treatment path. I need to rewire my functionality from the freezes and control the obsessive thoughts more. It’s been hard, but I started a new protocol, and I must say it seems to be helping. You guys might hear about some wins that are trivial to you, like yesterday I did laundry and took out three bags of trash all while getting the exhibits done. I haven’t been able to push myself that hard in forever. I am really fucking proud of it.

I need to stop thinking I need to do it all at once. I can take my time and not take on too much for my brain to accept. Little wins. That is what we are on to.

That said, I do probably have to look at the bar making him admit things and making him not practice anymore as a small win. He has had some consequences from his actions.

There are five reasons for punishment:

1. Deterrence — I hope.
2. Retribution — a little, I suppose, not quite to my liking as of yet.
3. Incapacitation — this we failed on because that motherfucker should be in prison.
4. Rehabilitation — yeah, I’m trying to get him there.
5. Restitution — meh, there ain’t enough money in the fucking world.

So that’s where we are: me, doing my little wins; {D}, drunk-spiraling through life; the lawyer throwing tantrums; and the peanut gallery refreshing my blog like it’s their own personal Netflix. Watch the show. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m certainly not done. If anything, I’m just getting warmed up.