This Week’s Stupid Decision #138: Getting into a van and instead of sex toys I find that the dumb bastard actually has candy
I find myself drawn to destructive behaviors and fantasies. Even if intellectually I know that they’re harmful.
The thoughts, or actions, momentarily keep the demons away but are never enough.
They’re all short-term answers; band-aids on the pain and despair of clinical depression.
Just keep smiling, answering the phone, laughing with people and putting on the face of happiness and normality.
This morning I went to the bank to cover a slew of fees that have been accumulating for almost two weeks.
This nightmare began when I used my debit card –without checking the exact balance in my account and the purchase amount was around $5.00 more than I had at the time.
Of course the charge went through, along with a $30.00 NSF fee. After that it was $5.00 a day, unbeknownst to me.
When I found out I went to the bank with $40.00 to cover what I though the overdraft was… 5+30=40 right?
Nope, by that time the overdraft was up to $85.00
This morning I was at the bank at 9:00 am with a check for $150.00 to finally end this mess.
No, now the bank says I am overdrawn $190.00, so with the $150.00 deposit I’m still overdrawn $40.00 and they are going to close my account.
Apparently at 5:00 am my car insurance debit went through for $110.00. The amount is supposed to be $77.00
This leaves me with zero money, a pile of laundry I cannot afford to wash, no gas in the truck, and a past due phone/internet bill.
This may be my last post for a while.
This current mess is my own fault. I believed there was enough money in my account when I used that debit card, but I did not actually check.
I am the cause of my problems and no one else. Dammit I hate it when this happens. Which is
frequently hardly ever.
It’s my fault there’s no money
It’s my fault that I allowed my daughter to move in with her dad.
It’s my fault that the boyfriend is gone.
It’s not my fault that this fucking disease twists my mind but that’s small solace right now.
I honestly can think of no reason to continue bashing my head against the wall.
Not fucking one.
So maybe I should make an unscheduled appointment with the therapist and hit a meeting.
Intellectually I know this but, and I have big but, finding the actual motivation is the kicker.
In an effort to occupy the mind with something more interesting than myself, here are some intriguing stats I found this week. As Nevada Day approaches, yes boys and girls there is a Nevada Day, it seemed appropriate to do a bit of investigative digging on the Silver State.
1. Nevada Is Tied For Second In The Nation In Suicide Rates. Nevada was First until 2002. Alaska kicked our ass though. We’re Number Two!
2. The Suicide Rate in Nevada is almost double the National Average Rate. Let’s count Double as a Number Two as well. I CAN fit a square peg in a round hole dammit.
3. 480 people took their lives in 2004, up 9.7 percent from the previous year. That’s more than the 398 individuals who died in traffic accidents in Nevada that year.
4. In Nevada it’s not Las Vegas, the state’s gambling mecca, that drives the highest suicide rate in the nation. It’s the rural counties. Have you been to Fernly?
5. Nevadans die younger and at higher rates of suicide, substance abuse and certain chronic illnesses compared with the rates nationally and in other large counties (per a CDC report)
6. It is illegal to sell sex toys in Reno. I can tell you that this law is unenforced as there are three shops I frequent to stock my toy chest. Plus another 5 or 6 available boutiques. This doesn’t indicate we’re number two in anything but being open-minded; the law was passed in 1980, not 1950.
Pretty damned funny though. You can drink booze 24/7, hire a whore legally by simply driving 20 minutes outside of town, and gamble away your life savings too. No dildos though. You could put an eye out.
Seems I’m not the only person ‘round these parts possessed of suicidal thoughts and idiotic decisions.
Nevada Rocks. I have rocks in my head. Coincidence?
Pass the phone will you? Time to call the shrink and do a psychological house-cleaning.
Stats are nice but I don’t really want to be one.