if I had a gun

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Sometimes I really wish it was legal to kill people. I am not mean by nature but I am getting seriously irritated with the world in general. I am sitting here doing homework and wishing I did not have so many words to write. The paper is a minum requirement of 1,400 words and its due tomorrow. I can do it, I already have over 300 words in a one hour period and I got plenty of time between today and tomorrow,
My gf says I should have worked on it sooner, done a few hundred a day. (not keeping in mind I have been busy helping her around the house or engaging in activities she wanted to pursue, etc) and I just said I would be fine
She said yea you will be fine, you have no choice but to be.
She is getting very very frustrating and on my last nerve lately. I am not sure how long this spell is going to last but if things do not get any better I am calling it quits. It is bad enough she wants me to engage in my recreational activities will still being “SOCIAL” at the same time it is irritating as hell. I need some time alone

--Rant Over--

If it were legal to kill people, probably nobody would be left.
I'm a procrastinator too.
What do you do to deal with your frustration? Healthy ways, I mean? (I use walking, spending time with my animals, and journaling). Other people use music or deep breathing.
Best wishes. Glad you came to the Haven; that's a healthy thing to do.

just go over what you already wrote then go into detail on certain points. basically just repeat what you already have but in more detail, you could pad that 300 out to an easy 400. then essentially repeat yourself two more times. the trick is to not be to the point. you want to beat around the bush.

Yeah if I had a girlfriend like that I would be frustrated with her too. You're doing the right thing - waiting it out to see if things get better, and if not, breaking up with her. That's what I would do in your situation too.

Thanks for the expansion suggestion I am doing that for sure.

As for relaxation I draw and paint and read and play Eden Eternal (not too relaxing we play that together XD) I think I will get to at least half the word count (7-800 words) then finish the rest tomorrow. Have some time to read a little started a new amanda quick book I want to finish.

I was involved with a man who found everything wrong with me. I did not tell him I had ASD. I told him about the co-morbid symptoms and he treated me like dirt a great deal of the time. I was isolated. He'd taken me away from my job, my friends, from all the control I'd had over my own life. I was exhausted by him. I began to have what I call "shut down seizures" that lasted maybe a second, but they were devastating. I would fall. I would get hurt. I broke bones. He ridiculed me, called me horrible names, said I was chaotic..blamed everything on me.

I lived with him in Oregon on a large forested property in the middle of nowhere. It was a beautiful place, but he did not understand me and it was impossible for me to please him. I grew up being abused by my father who had been in the Army and had PTSD. From my father, I "inherited" PTSD. I did not like loud noises, especially explosions. I still do not like these things. In this place in Oregon, many people packed and shot guns. I felt very afraid of the noises. I was often working alone on a remote part of the property and so purchased an automatic pistol and then a revolver, when I learned that automatic pistols could jam and revolvers were more trustworthy. I never fired either one of these guns -- not once! One day, a week or so after I'd had a seizure and fallen down a ladder, fracturing my shoulder and breaking an ankle, this man said the cruelest things to me and I did not know what to do..the words were so cold and mean and diabolical and I felt nearly helpless. I very slowly got the revolver from the cabinet where I kept it in a fanny pack. My right hand and arm were fine, so I removed the revolver. It was loaded. I was wearing this "boot" on my right foot and so could walk very slowly. I lived in the barn, like an animal. This was what I'd chosen to do to get some time away from him.

I did not tell him (or anyone else!) about these (atonal) seizures. As it was, he was controlling everything I did and was terrifying me.

So I have the revolver in my hand. I open the door of the room we are in and he follows me out and is constantly talking. I cannot even remember what he was saying, now. I just kept slowly walking and opened the barn doors to walk outside. Now he is getting in front of me and I recall he is saying that "I want to kill him. He knows I want to kill him." Still I say nothing." I walk maybe 150 feet to where there is a fork in a dirt track, take the safety off the revolver and put it into my mouth and I am staring at him while he is shouting something like "he will never beg anyone for his life, he will never get on his knees to ask forgiveness." I begin to pull the trigger and he falls to his knees and he is in tears and he is begging me not to do this. He is in tears. I pull the revolver from my mouth, put the safety back on. I don't say a word. I walk back to the barn and put the revolver back into the cabinet into the pack where I'd kept it. I can't remember when I spoke another word. I never was able to forget the words he said to me. They are still in my mind, although at least eight years have passed since he said them to me. THAT was my reaction to cruelty that was not deserved from someone who was unable to love or understand me. It is not IN me to kill another living creature.