Sorry, I don’t speak crazy.
We’ve all been there, dealing with shit heel asshole idiots. Now add 2 to 17 different kinds of crazy to that, you get my job.
All crazy, all the time
Mental health issues are quite real and quite under-served and mistreated, starting with how terribly they’re medically mismanaged. AKA drugs, meds, more drugs because therapy and actual help, hard work and more therapy, would cost money.
What I deal with all day, everyday: drug seeking, demand 5 star everything, mentally challenged that, anywhere else in the world, they’d be sitting on a curb, Holy #FirstWorldProblem jackasses.
YOU are the problem
That’s why people with genuine problems get the help they need – because of people like this, to which I want – but can’t – scream:
“No you don’t have pain, no you are not starving or being abused because highly trained medical professionals won’t leave a DYING patient to make you a fucking hot meal. No YOU are not paying for your hospital stay – you and your positive drug screen are getting a free ride off my tax dollars because your alcoholism and anxiety are somehow a disability that means you 1) can’t work a J-O-B and 2) get free healthcare.
There’s nothing wrong with you other than system can’t deal with your useless ass, so they give in – push the drugs, give you free clothes, food, room, board. Every absurd expectation and horseshit demand you think you’re entitled to is bullshit. Now STFU.”
What the ever loving fuck?
When did we stop requiring people ADULT once in a while, personal responsibility and all that shit?!
Thank GOD I am not batshit crazy. Praise merciful Zeus my head doesn’t invent neuroses, thank heavens I am not a lazy piece of crap. I sure as hell bitch about my ‘poor me’ lot in life, but at least I am a functional human being who can contribute and take care of my damn self.
Now if only typing that made me feel better. Shit.