You aren’t wanted here.

So I’m still seeing referers from the troll site.

Can’t y’all go away? Can’t you go be mean spirited, low life fuckwads somewhere else?

I’m feeling pissed off, spied on, violated, and like if one of you cunts came to my house I’d love to slap your face off.

But you won’t come to my house and I won’t chase you down. Cause see how I stay in my god damn sandbox instead of wandering all over the internet shitting in other peoples sandboxes?

Guess what? You are neighborhood cats with no manners. Go. The. Fuck. Away.


You aren’t wanted here.

Do you know that you petty cunt-rags are causing someone with severe lifelong mental illness to be unable to sleep? That is not a nice thing to do. It’s fucking petty. You are coming to my space to be intrusive. That’s fucking rude. Yes, my writing is “public”. Guess what? Bathrooms are public places. You aren’t supposed to go in the one that isn’t marked for you.

This space is not for troll assholes. This space is for me. So I get to feel safe. Y’all are really disgusting if you think that people with severe mental illness don’t even deserve to feel safe in their own sandbox.

You are a petty fuckwad and I hate you with the fire of a thousand suns. I’m god damn tired of you raining on my parade since I got home. I’ve been trying to feel better. Then I keep seeing fucking hits from you god damn bitches.


I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

Mostly because you cause me to have random terrible surges of emotions I then have to suppress or take out on my kids.

You shouldn’t have this kind of power over me.

I know I need to stop letting people have this kind of power. I’m not good at that.

I want to be ignored. I want to be allowed to do my shit in my space where I’m just trying to do my thing. I’m not trying to amass a following. I’m not telling other people what they should do. I’m documenting what I do so that I have integrity with my children.

And you come here to make fun of me for being crazy.

Are you a child? No. Are you a monster? Probably.

Mean girls are everywhere.

Human beings really aren’t that kind. We are monsters.

And yes, you petty bitches count.

I assume you assholes are ignorant as well as mean spirited. Let me educate you just a touch. PTSD is a permanent brain injury that results from extremely bad things happening to you. You can’t get it from a fucking hangnail. Do you know what a trigger is? It is when something that seems unrelated to your trauma happens and your brain is literally not capable of perceiving it as different and emotionally and mentally you are thrust back into the mindset of currently experiencing trauma.

So having you motherfuckers come to my site like this, guess what it feels like? It feels like when my father was stalking me when I pressed charges. I’m never sure when I’m going to have something much worse than being watched happen. When hundreds of hits show up like that, I don’t know if one of you complete losers are married to a channer and you are going to send thousands of people to make my life hell. You seem the kind of pathetic people to hook up with a loser like that. The kind of loser who likes to terrify people just to prove they are “strong”.

Ew. Ew. Ew.

When my father was standing at the end of my driveway, after he paid bail to get out of jail, he let me know that he wasn’t done with me yet and he hadn’t yet decided what to do next.

That time I won. I’m the only motherfucker still standing from that conflict.

Really, I suspect I would win next time too. Because I have resources and I absolutely relish a fight. But I don’t want the fight. I actively resist that fight. It wouldn’t be good for my kids. It wouldn’t be good for them to be around me while I fought that fight. I’d be an asshole. Because that is how you win fights.

You don’t win fights by being a good person. I don’t like to lose fights. So I’m ok with not being that good of a person.

Are you?

It isn’t helping my day-to-day frustration that I have this cloud of assholes watching me. It isn’t helping my ambient feelings of anger and impatience that I know I need to have part of myself gearing up for a fight that may not come.

It makes it really hard to muster up appropriate patience with everything else. Y’all are stealing from my spoon drawer and I’m pissed.

I don’t have a lot of energy going spare. And I’m wasting gobs of it on y’all. Because you are still here.

I hate you.