Today I just reached my limit. I was upset all day yesterday because I felt like I should be able to helkp this sweet little rat whoi I love so much. I was afraid I would pop her whole bottom end by squeezing too hard. i feel like this is perfect karmic justice for judging the fucking asshole rat vivisectors at Harlan biomedical. I called the vet I asked him for help, I was so scared. How much is too much pressure. She squeaks, she hurts, if I dont get the poop out she will die if I squeaze too hard, she will tear open and die. Life is fucked.
Today I e-mailed my boyfriend and told him that I was fed up with his not respecting my very fucking simple boundaries. Now I know that he is angry and feeling sorry for himself. he will never find the compassion necessary to understand how his behavior impacts on me and our relationship and my son. If it ever gets too hard he can always get high and float away from it all. My life is a web of fantasy and deceit. My mother loves me as long as I am good by her definition and comform at least somewhat.
Just a little while ago while trying to help my little rat I perforated her colon, poop was coming out of two holes. I think I did this to here, maybe I didn't, maybe it was already there or the skin was weak from the pressure. Why didn't I notice this was happening to her bfore? Why didn't I catch this sooner. Now she is going to the hospital and I have to go to the therapist. I am sure that they will ahve to kill her because now her shit will be in her bloodstream and how ill she live with an infection like that. I see her sweet little face, I love her so much and life just fucking sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
I hate my birthmother and my sister and whoever the hell fathered me. I hate my I dont know what he is husband person who I loved for so much of my life. i hate my partner for being so fucking szelfish and self absorbed and for leading me on and making me believe he would be able to live with me when all along we both knew he couldn't. I hate men, I hate mothers, I hate valentines. I hate romanticism and fantasies and story books and life. I just fucking hate life. Fuck spell checking this.