In which I reach my breaking point.

Tonight is garbage night.

My landlord has been putting my garbage out on the curb for me due to my current situation of being mobility-limited.

Not so, tonight.

For some reason they put their garbage out (they live next door), and put something at the end of my driveway, but my two bags of garbage and my recycling were still in here with me. 9:30 p.m. rolled around and it's now dark out.

Yay. I get to take my awkward garbage bags out myself. In the dark. On crutches. On my gravel driveway. Super.

It went something like this: get my lame ass down the stairs on my ass, toting the nasty garbage and throw it out the door into the driveway. Then proceed to throw each bag as far as possible, and catch up to them on my crutches. Lather, rinse, repeat. It wasn't quite humiliating enough, but luckily some strangers walked by and insisted on carrying the nasty garbage the rest of the way to the curb.

I appreciate their good samaratanism, but it was fucking humiliating. I felt so goddamn pathetic at that point, I almost started crying on my way back into the house. I am frustrated with this shit. My dependency on others is driving me INSANE.

I am sick of these fucking crutches, the walker and the wheelchair. I am sick of having to concoct ridiculous schemes to get everyday chores done. I am sick of having a foot I can't put any weight on. I am sick of THIS WHOLE SCENARIO.

Honestly, I just want to scream.

xo
lb