Nurse Bob


The new place seems nice enough. He gets to do some things he never got to do before.  It’s so much better than being a nurse.  Not so much stress.

Then all of  a sudden he heard a voice that was familiar to him.  No way it couldn’t be him.  It was Ivan.  He could hear him.  Then the whispers the talking about his family.  The thing is Ivan didn’t know was that the particular family member he was talking about used to work there and they could easily pull up their records and disprove anything he said.

It stared all over again.  The whispers, the discussions, the evil stares, the acting scared, and the rumors.  This cause so much commotion that they told them to stop talking about it because he was on the floor.  Of course that only made it worse, they wouldn’t stop now.

Eventually they smiled at him and put him in a room.  He assumed it caused fear.  People looked at him funny and treated him like he was a disease.  He didn’t like the way they looked at him.  Just like the other place.

What would be the next step after he was placed in confinement?  There would be meetings determining what was true and what was not.

Meetings discussing things that happened to him before.  Meetings about something that happened at his home.  Moments he thought he was all alone, but he wasn’t was he?  How could he mistake his own anguish being played and hearing people making fun of  him for crying.  Acting as if his pain was not real, as if what he was crying about was not justified.

How would they have felt is things about their life and family was given to strangers?  How would they feel if their moments alone at home was broadcasted to strangers?  How would they feel if they heard someone talk about something he thought only he had felt and he had been through, but strangers knew?

It wasn’t the first time he had heard them replay it, no.  He heard it above him when his neighbors sat down and replayed it over and over again.  That woman and those loud as people.  “He was loud.”

Yeah he was loud he had just been talked to by someone at church who kept saying “Don’t worry about what people say about you.”  That pretty much told him they knew.  They knew about something that according to where he was, it wasn’t supposed to go to Mario, but it when out all over the city.

How could he even be safe in God’s house if everyone treated him the same?

So yes, he was crying and upset.  It was a deep pain.

But now he knew he hadn’t imagined anything.  He knew he wasn’t crazy.  He knew that everything he went through was validated, by the urgency to put him in a room.

Still he knew they thought he was whatever they said he was.  He had been fingerprinted when he worked at the police station.  He had been through two background checks before he got into the other place and he knew he had been through another one before he could get into this place.  Still everyone wanted him to be a monster, to be bad, to be the most evil person in the world.



So it’s something to call someone crazy.

Sometimes we call someone crazy because of their schemes.  Some people have some crazy schemes, that do and don’t work.

Sometimes we call someone crazy because they are dare devils and always put their life on the line.

Sometimes people call someone crazy because they find out something about them.  In order for the person to get others to not believe that person they call that person crazy and say all kinds of things to make others not believe them.

I’ve been called crazy and most recently by my neighbors who don’t know me, but apparently know something about me or know someone who “knows” me.  Not sure what they think they know, but I don’t know them well and I don’t really want to get to know someone who calls me crazy.  Might be because they eavesdrop on my conversations with others or something else.  I find it strange if they can hear me because they shouldn’t.  I don’t hear them, unless they yell.  Of course I’m talking to my friends and or family so those are private conversations they shouldn’t be a part of.  That’s exactly why I never pay bills over the phone any more.  Shit like that.

Any way my point is that there are people out there with mental disorders who when people find out about their disorder they call them crazy.  I think it’s more crazier for them to call that person crazy.  That person doesn’t have a choice.  It’s a chemical imbalance which they can not control no matter how hard they try.

Also there are a lot of studies suggesting a lot of people especially in America suffer from a lot of mental disorders.  Some of the disorders are depression, bi-polar, schizophrenia, sociopathy(if that’s a word), and etc.  It’s interesting to read about what makes someone a sociopath, it specifically seems to be on the rise in America.  I would ask that you read up on that yourself. There’s even a test you can take.  So far I’ve failed it and I’m not a sociopath, but I know a few.

Just to let you know depression doesn’t equal sad.  There’s a difference.  Read up on it.  You shouldn’t use the word depression just because you are sad or in the dumps.

Any way it makes me wonder why we use the word crazy loosely.  Even using mental disorder or mental problems to describe people who may or may not have an issue.

Every time there is a shooting, that person has a mental disorder.  That may be true, but stress can cause someone to do that.  Sometimes wanting fame causes someone to do something like that.  Sometimes thinking it would cause a war or they are defending themselves from something   Sometimes, just having enough of whatever they are going through, especially when no one is there to take their side.

Why is the anti-bullying campaign such a big deal now?  Before people just ignored it.  Now people have access to more things to bully someone.  This causes more harm as more people join in.  It’s one thing when it’s just one person, but add hundreds, thousands, and even millions of people joining in.

We’ve seen a rise in suicide, isolation, depression, and violence due to bullying.

I wonder if anyone ever thinks about the possible outcomes of bullying.

So I’ve just been thinking about that lately.

We’re all a little crazy, so I’ve heard.  I guess if you push someone too hard, you’ll find out how crazy they can get.

Oh well.



Since I’ve been thinking about regret and pain and other things, I’ve been thinking about decisions.

Lately I’ve made some interesting decisions which are for the better.

Nope its private, so don’t ask.

One decision I’ve made is to stay away from male coworkers.   I’ll talk with them at work, but as far as getting too close, nope not going to happen.  It’s just better that way.  “No I don’t want their number, No I don’t want to give them mine, No, I don’t want to meet them no where, No, I don’t want none of their time…”  I all ready know the rumor mill and the gossip train would start if I was talking to someone at work.  Can’t even get away from that when it’s not related to dudes.

So I’ve been meeting new people who seem pretty cool and I like them.   They remind me of my good friends I’ve had throughout my life.

*Stupid thing wouldn’t scroll up like I wanted*

It’s nice to get some things accomplished that I’ve been working on.

I still feel that people tend to think they know who I am.  I really hate that, but you know there’s not much you can do when someone believes what everyone else tells them.  Always feels like a group of people against one.  Kind of like my character in the story.  Feeling like you’re backed against the wall with people telling you who you are without even asking you.  You know who you are, but it doesn’t matter.

I actually know who’s to blame for that.  They know who they are.

Still I’m doing things I want to do and enjoying it, no matter what.

So yeah.

Still a lot of people are in pain.  You can see it on their face.

Strange something seemed moved.

Oh yeah I guess my singing has been annoying the neighbors even though they make sure to tell me they can’t hear me.  So how the heck can they hear me when my TV is up loud while I’m singing.  I even whisper and they can hear me.  Really strange.  I can’t hear them and only occasionally when they get really loud.

I always seem to have nosy people in my life.  I assume it’s because I don’t share my life with them.  How can I trust any one when they think they know who I am and when they make it apparent they are being nosy.  I don’t like people all up in my business.  It’s my business and if I choose to share it with you then that’s different.  I don’t have to share everything with you.

Trust is not given it’s earned.  If you ever want me to trust you then you need to get out of my business.  Also making fun of me doesn’t work either.  I can’t trust anyone who thinks it’s OK to make fun of me because to me that’s being a bully and that’s not who I want in my life.  I am very picky with who to trust and who I want in my life.  Most people fail miserably at earning my trust.

Oh well I should get going.  Tootsie


I’ve been thinking about regret lately.

Most of what I regret usually involves people and decisions.  Sometimes those decisions involve people.

My regrets when it comes to people is usually trying to trust them too soon.  We all want friends.  Some of us will do anything for friends.  Still sometimes when you are in the process you realize who’s a good friend and who’s not.  Usually it has a lot to do with trust.  Not everyone can be trusted and they have to earn your trust.

I don’t regret cutting people out of my life or staying away from someone who might hurt me or is not trustworthy.

Some people regret things they’ve said to a loved one before they passed away.  Some people regret moving to certain places.

Still usually you learn from those situations.  I’ve learned to be careful with what I say and whom I have in my life.  I also learned how someone can turn on you when you cut them out of your life.

Some people have learned that they should show their loved ones more love.

Some people buy guns for protection so the next place will be safer.

So I don’t know that was on my  mind.


I’ve been thinking about pain lately.  Not just physical but mental.  Sometimes can’t have one without the other.  If you are in such physical pain, it effects you mentally.  If you are in mental pain sometimes it  affects you physically.  People with both types of pain usually take medication for it.

There are medical conditions that cause people to be in pain, where the only relief is medication.  That’s just not physical conditions that included mental conditions.

Some people will never understand pain.

There are some people out there who when they lift a finger it causes a ripple of unbearable pain.

There are people who are in mental anguish.  They suffer mentally and internally.

No matter what type of pain they are in, at some point they want it to stop.  Even if it means slitting their wrists, taking medication, or even taking a handful of medication.

It’s like a hot water heater about to blow and all you do is turn the valve to release some of the steam so that it won’t go overload.

Just a little slit.  Just another pill.  I just want it to stop just for a little while.

Yes this is a bit dark because unfortunately people see those who are in pain as weak because they don’t understand pain. They think they are faking or making it up.  They think that it’s all in their head.

So in turn they get picked on and bullied or even yet treated as if they are not a person.

It’s not a weakness.  It’s out of their control.  Still they get up everyday.  They try to push through the pain. They get used to it.  Some people are so good at ignoring the pain that it’s like it’s nothing to them and someone else would be unable to move.

I know we all have a tolerance, but when someone hurts by moving and they are putting on clothes through that pain, it’s not a weakness.  It’s freaking strong that they are trying to endure even though it hurts them.

Not sure why I’m thinking about it, but that’s what I was thinking about.



I was wondering about something.  My ex neighbor who could be heard all over the place because she was so loud, used to tell all the other neighbors I didn’t talk to her.  Makes me wonder what other lies she told because I did talk to her.  I was almost forced to talk to her.  She was always outside watching me.  The minute I opened my door she was outside.   She made me late for work and would get annoyed because I needed to go to work instead of holding a conversation with her.  Yeah…did she even work?  Sometimes I would sit in my car, and talk on my phone because she was waiting like a vulture.  I know she could hear me because when I was upset about something I would go outside and she was asking me questions.  She especially seemed to be more nosy around the time before the break in and after the break in. She wanted to know about something important to me.  She even got mad because I would go out with my friends.  Not sure why though.  I didn’t know her and my friends didn’t know her, plus she had a young baby.  No.  I don’t think someone with a child should leave them alone so they can hang out with someone.  She even got offended because I wouldn’t take her grocery shopping right then.  I had some where to be.  So it makes me wonder if the other neighbors believed the lies and if they did, what kind of things would they have done?  How much danger was I in?

So any way.  I’ve been really inspired by a lot of things lately.  Yeah let’s say crafts, giving, and living.  I’ve been doing something I’ve done before, but a lot better at it now, and I’m seeing wonderful results.  So hopefully I’ll keep it up.

I miss some things and well.

By the way.  Yes I talk about death.  I think I’ve been near death a lot in my life.  I’m pretty sure someone was going to kill me at some point for something stupid.  I’ve had several things happen to me that I should not be here and for that I thank God and Jesus for.  Still death is final and it’s dark and it’s something that you try not to think about, but sometimes you can’t help it.  Plus I’ve seen death a many of times.  I’ve watched people die.  I’ve watch the life drain out of someone.  So yeah, death isn’t pretty.  We all know we are going to die some day, we don’t know when and we don’t know how.  So yeah get upset when I talk about death and have a conversation out loud so I can hear you.  Maybe I’ll comment on it.  :)

Mental Disorders are very much something people refuse to deal with.  People think the person is faking or wanting attention, but that’s not true.  If you ever seen someone who’s attempted suicide, then you would know better.  If you ever ask someone who has known someone who has they never knew it was coming.

Any way.  Later.

Who is that?


He stared at them as they walked outside the front door.  He knew they didn’t belong there.  He knew there was only supposed to be someone else there, but they smiled at him and told them they were family.

He never questioned the fact that he wasn’t there.  He wasn’t there.  How were they getting in?

He watched them one day as they went in through the window since the door was locked, and then out the front door.  What were they doing in there?  Why would someone who was supposed to be there doing that?

Crap he thought…they are criminals.

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