I'm lying to them again, you know.

The whole headshrinkers group and associated entourage. They ask you questions. Uncomfortable ones. After my recent emotional rape, I just cannot give them any more. The things they want to know may be important along the way, and you know what? If we get to that point, I'll let you in on the truth. Until then, pardon me for being guarded. You meet them and 15 minutes later they are dissecting you. Most questions I lunge at... 'so, do you have a history of alcohol abuse?'... Oh fuck yeah, I was at the bar 6 of 7 nights downing an average of 18 beers and lets say, 6-8 shots. See, I have no problem with that. That is important to them understanding me and then essentially pigeonholing me into a category. It's their job, I can't be angry. But some things they don't deserve to know. Not yet. Not to use against me.

So today was my first appointment with the therapist that is a specialist in BPD. Turns out she kind of isn't a specialist by her response when I told her that's what the IdiotDoc told me. WTF. Seriously?!?! I have no idea if I'm going back. I've got to call the insurance company in the morning. And she said she makes her own diagnosis(es)... so that means how long seeing her just to start at the beginning?! How many fucking mental health professionals does it take to get a goddamned diagnosis?!?! All you have to do is go by the guidelines in the DSM IV. Do you fit this axis? Then you've got it - whatever 'it' is. Christ on a fucking bike - you'd think I was asking you to come up with a solution for peace in the middle east!

Still feeling fragile. Still feeling broken. But my normal shell of anger and general *pissyness is beginning to reform. And I need sleep.

*Yes, technically pissiness should be spelled with and 'i' but I think it looks funny. Actually it looks funny both ways but I chose the lesser of two evils, visually speaking.

What is life if not a joke? One night she went out for smokes and they took her apart like a ragdoll in the back of a van...

That's an old Matthew Good Band song called Alabama Motel Room. Welcome to my mind. It has just been taken apart by a doctor that won't hear what I'm telling him. He claims everything is due to the BPD. We talked of my fear of adverse drug reactions which I've endured horrid ones in the past. That too, he managed to tell me, was because of the Borderline Personality Disorder. He asserts that because of my fear of lack of control over the meds and experiencing side effects that I've worked myself up so far into having hallucinations. So sure, he'll give me the smaller dose of the new med to placate the crazy girl. He said he'll put money on the fact that I have a problem because I believe I will. I handed it back to him. He gave it back with a condescending comment.

I'm not going to go into any more but let me just say a few things. Any reaction I've had is real - even to antibiotics. My mother began experiencing peculiar and severe reactions in her early thirties and passed that on to me. I have tried many meds, some worked, some didn't but two almost had me hospitalized... pardon me for giving a shit about the hell that may come to me in the form of a pretty colored capsule. Second, fuck you for insinuating that I willed it to happen. Third, do not talk over me and treat me like one of your over-medicated low functioning patients that lives 50% of their days shuffling in the psych ward. I am not that person. Treat me like I understand you, because you know I do. Perhaps that is one of the things you don't like.

I came to you for help and you have managed to tear down the small connections I built. You took away my entire history, making it seem that everything is the BPD. There is no 'me' anymore - I was all a fabrication. Nothing is real. And you tell me meds won't help me anyway. It's all a personality issue. You forget that I DO have a history, all the bipolar and suicide. You just took me apart and left me there. If I was ever anything at all. You want me to follow you like part of your flock. Saying it's all part of being able to follow directions. Again, fuck you. It's about open dialogue with your patient and trying to treat someone, not belittle and strongarm them.

I might just get off all meds. As long as I have enough time to get my shit in order, I don't care what happens to me. Not anymore. I can't make this my life.

You know doc, I had hopes for this. For me. For improving my life which is what I was seeking for years. But you found me to be a plaything. Something to wind; watch me spin. I care far less now than I did before thanks to your careful guidance. I am parts, but not whole. You told me I never was. But don't fucking underestimate me. So help me god you son of a bitch, if I go out, I am taking you with me in any way possible.
~
Add on: Because 'stubborn' runs through my blood in a ratio that overtakes even red blood cells, I will get through this. I just need to say that this guy did some damage when I was at an extremely vulnerable point. I've pulled inside myself because I can't trust what I thought or what the doc thinks. As long as I stay inside for a while, I'll be back to normal life telling some idiot or another to fuck off. For now, I feel wounded, lost, betrayed, confused, angry; you name it. Fragile. Broken. But as long as I fight it, I'll be ok. I just have to recognize that it is ok to let myself feel this for now; to not fight for a moment. It will remind me what to be wary of in the future.

Everyday things that help us gauge our place in the world

From the third floor of the north side of the hospital, I can see a marina. It is on the river and doesn't take long before you empty out into Lake Erie. Almost every day for years I've peered out the same window and overlooked the same marina. As the seasons change, the boats come and go. In the winter, it is frozen and covered with snow. I've always enjoyed the view and taking it in but a part of me sees the same cycle occurring with the same end result. Year after year. Perhaps the concept is just hitting a little too close to home right now.

Knowing I'd eventually meet with resistance, I did it anyway.

I just said 'no' to drugs. Harharhar. No seriously, I told my doc's secretary to pass on info to him that I would not be taking the original hell-bender med he prescribed after very careful consideration. I gave her a few reasons and even she was understanding. I told her I'd like to pick up the prescription for the alternate medication and she said it was already written (how weird) and I said I wanted the initial script to be written for a starting dose of 20mg rather than the 30mg that he wrote it for, even though he may consider it subtherapeutic. If I'm going to react to a med, I'd rather have it be to a lower dose! I should be able to pick it up tomorrow and get it filled the next day.

Both he and my therapist will say that going for treatment then not accepting it ('it' being the possibly life-wrecking med) is part of the BPD. Fuck that, it's called 'not trying to harm myself further'. My reasons are solid and I will defend them to the end. These meds can be very, very harsh. You try hallucinating for half a day after three miniscule dose tablets and tell me that you'll just open your mouth and pop them all in without question. Or try tying on a 10 day 'drunk' after just five low dose tablets of a new med; you can't see, you slur, no driving - it's truly like you're drunk. After your name, it says MD, PhD.... not GOD, so don't give me shit. You are not all knowing. I know my body better than you do.

Hopefully soon I can start these and see where it takes me. A little help would be nice, even if it's in the form of a capsule. =) Let the transition begin. I think my doc understands me, even if he doesn't agree with me - and I appreciate that.

Oh, I'll have to tell you what I did for mommy's birthday and I'd like to post a pic or two so I'll need to do the 'cell phone dance' to get it to transfer the pics. Seriously... number 9 could be right around the bend...lol.

xoxo

When one revelation just isn't enough

So between last night and today I've found out very interesting things. As you know I contacted my half-sister. That still fucks with my head. Anyway. I knew my father's mother committed suicide, as did my father. Now I learn that my half-brother died three years ago from a self inflicted gunshot wound to the head.

Now, add this to it... keep in mind I brought nothing up - this was all her. She is bipolar, our brother was bipolar, my father's mother was bipolar and halfsie suspects that our father was as well. Now, how weird is it to say that I feel some relief at hearing that? I felt something lift. There is finally proof that I'm not choosing to be fucked up - it would seem that there is a strong genetic predisposition.

I just had to say that. However the three generations bipolar/three generations suicide ratio is a little unsettling. But here's the thing - halfsie is the only one who ever was medicated for bipolar. That right there might explain the suicide. Whew. Lots to take in. Off to tell her now that I'm bipolar as well, she doesn't even know yet.

I've got a secret...

for about the next eight seconds then I'm telling you. It will be a secret no longer. Know how I've been saying that I'm just coming apart at the seams and lashing out and being impulsive? More than normal, I guess? Well yesterday was my new psych's third and last attempt to make some effort to help me (by my rule, not his). Well, when I first went to him he asked me if I'd ever been diagnosed with these two particular disorders then sort of dropped it. He's done nothing and so at this appointment I kind of wasn't a nice, pleasant, helpful patient. Actually, at one point I asked him if he was fucking nuts for asking me that and went on some rant. Heh, oops. See, I work at this hospital so I tried not to come off as an ass. Oops too late.

It would seem that in addition to the bipolar (which I'm used to), his initial suspicions were correct... I have officially been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. No, that does not mean I am on the borderline of having numerous personalities - although I'm sure if I did they'd all suck right about now. Please feel free to do an internet search on a reputable site (NIMH, NAMI, etc) if you are interested. I didn't add a link because you may have different info/sites wherever you are or depending on the search engine you use. Anyway, he told me again that part of my downfall is that I am highly intelligent and try to put everything in it's place because I understand the basis or the disorder/disease processes. Unfortunately I can't exactly play dumb with this. This is what I do for a living, I can't pretend to not know it. From what I've read thus far, it really seems to fit for the most part. I did need for him to explain certain facets because I was kind of offended by some of the things I read...lol. Sorry, but I find that funny. Anyway, it gives me someplace to start. If I don't get help with this soon, I will at the very least make an unwitting attempt at destroying everything.

There are meds. The first one he went to might not be for me. It is a mood-stabilizer and technically in the anti-psychotic classification. *sigh* The side effects may keep me from taking it. There are some things I simply won't risk. I'd like to start the meds like, three weeks ago so to speak, but I have to research this. Thankfully I have plenty of resources. I'll let you know.

I do have a certain amount of anger because I have been asking for help because of this for years now and it just keeps getting worse. At first, I think we figured it was phases of the bipolar but this was somehow different. I'm hoping we're on the right track. I'm worn out from this.

He also offered to have me voluntarily committed. No shit. I told him no because I wouldn't be at all cooperative or attend groups, etc. He told me I'm right not to go then as it wouldn't work without my participation. If it stays bad and I decide I need help and wish to cooperate, he will write the orders. I figure I'd have to really fuck something up as a wake-up call to agree to it. I know me - I'll lie right to their faces. I'll tell them about how poor LiVEwiRe has just been short on sleep and high on stress and life has been throwing curveballs but I apologize for my behavior and have already learned some great coping skills here, k'thanksbye. Yep, sadly I'm a world-class liar when I want to be. So what's the point? I self sabotage, I suppose. And what I'm after now is to heal. So if the time comes that I crack and have another whackjob episode while trying to get meds on track and get things calm, then I may have to go. Which doesn't really phase me one way or another - I work in a hospital with a psych ward that I visit several times a day. In that way, there is no fear of the unknown. Plus, when I was diagnosed with bipolar I was in an IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program) four hours every M, W, F for a month. I mean, people I know already think I'm nuts, so what's the difference? I just keep thinking, man, I really don't want to have my period when I'm there...

So you see, nothing is ever easy when dealing with any mental illness. There are layers upon layers to peel back. It is a process I wouldn't wish on anyone, and keep in mind, it is almost as difficult for those living with, caring for, or spending time with the person that has the mental illness. Do you know how hard it was to have my mother look me in the eye and tell me she was afraid of me? The ensuing guilt escalates things so it's like, lather, rinse, repeat. Anyway, the secret is out.

I'm on cell phone number eight in just one year.

Which I suppose sounds odd but I assure you, I didn't harm one. Not one. It's all software issues. But still - eight? My service is fine with this carrier (for living on the lake) but methinks their phones need an overhaul. This is the first time I ever got the insurance and let me tell you, I sure am glad I did!

So, before my head explodes in sinus pain, I'll give you an update...

My half sister contacted me from the message I sent. She really wants to know me and sent me a long message back. I learned some things I never knew, some of which are making this hard to deal with already. But I chose this, fully and completely and I don't regret doing so. I did learn that my half brother passed away three years ago, though. I can't bring myself to mourn for someone I never knew, not even what he looked like, but I think I am mourning the loss of potential opportunity. I will learn more as time goes on but this is harder than I thought in ways I didn't see coming. According to her, he never stopped missing me and wondering about me. She said he would get so sad over it and drink too much to deal with it. He would bring out the few things he had of me and just lament the situation. He gave her letters my mother wrote to him when I was between 4 and 5. He kept them and gave them to my half sister. That is harder to handle than almost anything else I could have thought of.

I'm about to turn 40 and for the first time in my life, I know that some part of my father cared about me - for the long haul. Granted, he was messed up in alot of ways but he never forgot about me. I figured he left and never gave me another thought. It is much easier to not like someone based on that. Like I said, this is hard.

Well, I finally did it. I'll let you know when I find out exactly 'what'.

Lately I feel like my name should be Pandora, and that I must have some awful twitch that forces my hand to keep opening a box...

Well, I contacted my half sister via a somewhat lengthy message on the devil, FaceBook. Seriously, I think FB is the devil. Anyway, I'm hoping she still uses her account. I figure I either closed a door or opened one. To what is the question. This will be the third potentially infective, life altering, emotionally charged instance while I've been on FB.

#1: Found me
#2: Found it
#3: Let's make this the final round and then get on with life.

I think I just want to start it or finish it. I'll be ok either way. That's why I think I had to wait - now I know that dealing with her won't send me screaming. I had to be ready. Even if she tells me to go away. I can do that; it's one of the things I do best, really. But my chest kind of hurts. I think I'm bracing myself against the unknown. I've been beat up alot lately. Steeling myself against a possible blow makes perfect sense to me.

Once I get things in order, I can go. Don't think I want these big things going with me so I need to drop them when and where I can. Or I'm a glutton for punishment with a God complex. That is also a serious possibility.

Found the following words on a site. Apparently they are lyrics, which you can copy and paste into your browser, some country band. But the lyrics reminded me of, me.

For as much as she stumbles she's running, for as much she runs she's still here, always hoping to find something quicker than heaven to make the damage of her days disappear.

If you are going to not like me, then just don't like me, damnit!

So all the crap about moving and the reason why - just went through that. Today she says in a forlorn tone, 'if you were to leave I'd have to go into a home; I can't stay by myself anymore.'

Pardon me, but WTF?!?! Two weeks ago you were sure I ate kitten heads as snacks and pissed on Christ's feet.... now you are turning this around?? Like she is on to me and is guilting me into not going???

OMFG!

You cannot, you will not, get a straight answer out of her on this. Not on anything that matters. You have a better chance of me becoming the spokesperson for a petite clothing line. Or president of the local chapter of Pure Living without Swearing club.

I've calmed a little this week - probably because I resigned myself to the fact that I'd be going. That was hard. But here's the thing. I have a mental illness/mood disorder. It fucks with me and with other people, often without my consent. We are in close quarters. We are opposites. This is not a good mix. For the most part the bipolar is controlled but for some reason, I get these random spikes and even I don't see them coming. It isn't fair to her - she's 89! Wrong/right - she's 89! She doesn't deserve me acting like a lunatic. Anything above a slightly raised voice or just disagreeing with her and she accuses you of yelling at her. And that isn't just me, her daughters have noticed that. So she does not understand that this is not directed at her. On the flip side - she does want me around, but she wants the nicer me. I wish I could promise it to her. I would give my own life for her and have always said so. I just can't seem to find anyone to help me get this under control. This doesn't even cover the sheer guilt I feel over the situation. This woman is a huge part of why I am even alive today. But hey - not that I owe her or anything. *sigh*

Funny thing is, no matter what I do, I'll be wrong. I just need a giant slab of concrete to beat my head on for a while. Hard to believe with this type of trait running rampant in my family that I have stability issues, no?

What if I were sticky enough to walk the ceiling well maybe I could live through this.

Today at work I spent the better part of 15-20 minutes staring at a scalpel in a bin. I had to get an item from this bin and kept thinking that I could just remove the safety cover, slash the palm side of my fingers or my hand. Of course I'd have the luxury of just letting myself feel what I needed to feel. Allowing myself to bleed the bad from me. I was by myself. If someone walked in and saw me standing there I could have easily said I was in shock. "I didn't even realize it was in there and when I was fishing around for the clamps, I must've run alongside the open edge against the side of the bin. Um, I need to sit down..." I'm such a good liar. But I don't want anyone to know, so I have to be a good liar. I really struggled with that today. I don't consider it a success because I know the elements will line up again. All I can do is try to continue to find reasons NOT to, because let me tell you, I have more than enough reasons to. I've just been overwhelmed lately; unfortunately that is the trigger.

Good song for the day - Live Thru This by Mighty Joe Plum. It is hard to find but I know you can pull it up on MySpace. It's worth a listen and it fits me today.

Well, I think I kind of give up.

This past week or two has been, as they say, 'one for the books'.

After all is said and done, I'll be moving within the next 4 months or so. I don't know where, but one place is most likely as good as the other once I compare the important parts. It appears I am toxic and I refuse to stay and hurt the few people I care about any more. So I'll leave. They'll get over that much faster than if I stay.

I'm thinking of trying somewhere I've never been before. I don't even care if I like it, as long as it doesn't have huge spiders or something. It's just a place to exist. Liking things backfires so I'm not really considering that much.

Not a clue as to what will truly happen. I just know I have to go.

In direct contrast to the F-Bomb fest of yesterday, because THESE boys are nicer...

However, the previous post is still required reading. So read it, damn it.

Anyway - I just got done watching a hockey game. The Penguins won but this was still game #5 in the semi-finals - they could win it in #6 or win or lose in #7. The tension kills me. I just don't want them to play the Red Wings, although I'd rather have them in the finals playing them than not in the finals, dig?

Here's what made me think of this post. The person that shall remain nameless in the previous post hides behind a false sense of goodness and cranks out rough statements aiming to mold you to their beliefs. All the while it would sound like a decent thing until you break it down, most people would not do that - but I did and had some difficulty digesting the hypocritical views and expectations. Which... is why I thought of that during the game. These guys beat the hell out of one another and in the end, they shake hands and it's a new day next time they meet. Ok, outside of the obvious longer-term grudges. But generally. When they cross check someone into the boards, that is what they do as part of their job. I like these boys because what they do is what they do. It's honest, up front and everyone is aware of what to expect.

As a little 'thanks' to this group of guys that actually get me interested in something (the game) I wanted to post a few of my favorite players' pics. Now, these are rough and tumble NHL guys. I have on ice shots and some of them cleaned up - which I'd like to add that they clean up quite nicely, or they are photoshopped. I don't really care. (During playoff season they have a tradition and do a fundraiser and grow their beards, so you'll see alot of that.) I'll add a blurb, but it's just a way for me to say thanks to these guys (although none will ever know) for bringing me a bit of happiness and setting an example that there is a right and wrong place to try to knock someone down.

Say hello to Bill Guerin; at age 39, he puts up with all sorts of age-related jokes, gets called 'grandpa', in good humor, but takes it all in stride. Rumor has it that he gets the entire team psyched and in good spirits in the locker room prior to the games.

Having been on a number of teams, even as captain, he needed something new and came to Pittsburgh. He's got an 18 year NHL history yet his teammates say when he's around his kids, it's not so easy telling which one is the adult!

He doesn't look like someone you'd want to tangle with here, but he's known for his sense of humor. He also took a significant pay cut to extend his time with the Pens for a year. I really hope he stays again. He's a player that loves his game!

And this is my little Billy all cleaned up. I think it's fair to say I think he's quite handsome. Damn these boys clean up nice!!! I like Billy.

*******

The ever watchful Maxime Talbot! He comes out of nowhere, I tell you! Sometimes to score a goal, assist, or generally get in the opponents' way. He really made a name for himself last year in the playoffs.

This pic was from a parade when he accompanied Sidney Crosby back to his hometoen in Nova Scotia. Maxime went along and they seemed to have a great time. They also filmed a special and shot the commercial where Max and Sidney are taking shots at Sid's old dryer that he used to practice goals with. It sure seems to have worked!

Never saw Max dressed up - couldn't pass this one up. Again, cleaning up well. And don't they look so different without all the padding?

I'm pretty sure he's doing a superhero move or something. Perhaps practicing to lift the Cup again this year? They do seem like a happy group of guys, though.

*******

I couldn't pass this pic by.... this would be Pascal Dupuis (Dupwee', phoenetic) on the left with his buddy Maxime. See, this is proof that hockey players DO have teeth. That I'm sure were purchased and implanted one by one. Great smiles guys!


He looks so innocent and moderately confused there! That would be Phil Bourque on the left side of the pic and teammate Brooks Orpik on the right, flanked by three water bottles.

Pascal has been used in more lines lately and has really increased goals and assists. I enjoy watching him play more as time goes on. This puzzled face is the future of the Pens!

*******

Jordan Stall is all of 21 years old. Right before his first playoff game, last year (year before?), I think, his grandmother passed. They had been very close. He flew home and was back on ice quickly but you could see how he felt. It's hard to remember sometimes that these players are so young.

Something interesting. Jordan (L) and his brothers all play hockey for different teams.

I just liked this. It remined me of school boys sitting around after class. L to R: Jordan Staal, Bill Guerin, and Maxime Talbot.

*******

Ok, did ya' notice the eyes and intensity? Just making sure. Whew. I've got to say - it's pretty impressive to leave that sort of impression with a full face mask on. Enter one of the best goaltenders... Martin Biron. (Properly spoken it is Mar-tann' Bee-rrhone', emphasis on the second syllable. Gotta love the French Canadians for assuring we never say anything properly.)

He is fantastic to watch when he's on ice. I'd really like the Pens and Flyers to pair up for the finals, partially for that reason... hey, is she sitting on his lap?

I'm pretty sure she's in shock. Those goalies are flexible - he could actually have his arm around her from across the room! Just sayin'...

*******

Bring on Chris Chelios. This guy outskated, outmaneuvered, out 'everythinged' so many guys in the NHL. And on top of it, he was always nice. Even when wiping the ice with you.

Chris has been with many teams in his career but I think I first saw his insane on-ice skills as a Chicago Blackhawk.

Ok, I never knew about this pic but once I saw it I had to post it. Guess all the working out they do really does help them age gracefully!

*******

Welcome Francois (Frankie) LeRoux. He was the first hockey player to ever turn my head - I was too busy with watching the game. Until I saw him. In person - up close. He was well groomed and well dressed. With teeth. I'd never paid attention before then. I still have a '91-ish calendar with him in it.

This is fairly recent and he still looks every bit of his 6'6"! Did I mention he was top of the league for penalty minutes and fights? You can still YouTube his finest 'work'...lol.

Frankie LeRoux now - he's a developer! At least now I know where to go if I want to buy a house... and he's still in Pittsburgh.

Thanks for going along with me on this one. I needed to do this and I wanted to. Hopefully the spacing will hold. I think I'll post the other emails tomorrow. I just wanted to end my night on a high note. This should do it. =)

Oh for the love of cheese, what the fuck is wrong with some people?!

So. I wrote my email. Interestingly I already have a response. The only way for me to have you clearly understand what is going through my head, is to post the emails. That won't be happening today though. I need to absorb this. The one thing I am picking up is that just because a person lives with a group that studies positive awareness and such does NOT mean they do not exhibit cult-like behavior. To tell me that I've offended you by using a very common term in modern language (that was actually a compliment) pisses me right off. But you tell me that you are sure that I didn't mean to and you understand that. That is followed immediately by your explanation on how your culture tells another when they have said something 'off' so that they may take that knowledge and improve themselves.... (count. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. ) ... well fuck you buddy because there was nothing 'off' about what I said and it is rather obvious that I am not part of your fuck ass cult culture and I don't feel shamed into improving myself over using such a common term. It was not swearing nor derogatory. BUT... in the next part you talk about being great. You call me GREAT. You call you GREAT. Let me guess, Manson's fucking whippity skippity fucking GREAT, too! And Bundy, he's gotta be a whole roll of lovin' GREATness goin' on. Certainly Dahmer is beyond GREAT considering he had no 'smallness of feelings' when he was shoving boys in his deathville freezer. (count. 1. 2. 3. 4. ) How can you tell me that in your eyes I am subpar over these little things but then tell me you are taught to see everyone as, you guessed it, GREAT. If you are searching for the greatness in me, you will never find it. You are looking for greatness that is found on page 124 of the third book in the second series... for sale, by the way - of course. You don't see the greatness in me because it doesn't fit with your current code. You don't see when I stay hours after work to just be with a friend in the emergency room after a long day so she doesn't have to be alone. You don't see when I make sure to address many of the patients at work that often don't even understand where they are or even who they are; this is not any part of my job, I just want them to know that someone 'sees' them. You will never know how many sick animals I have volunteered with donating time and resources to care for, holding some as they died in my arms. Those things, those simple things right there are the doorway to greatness and I'll be damned if you toss the word around just because someone told you to. Fuck. You. At least I can say that I've seen what love and greatness can do and believe it or not pal, it has absofuckinglutely nothing to do with just saying everyone is great. Believing that does not make it true; furthermore, everyone ISN'T great. And to reprimand another and tell them that you didn't appreciate a word and you are kindly telling them so they can 'improve their life' - oh my god... if it were that easy don't you think I'd have done it by now?! If it were actually offensive, I could understand. Perhaps you can chant and meditate over these things but not only can't I do that, but now I surely won't... and risk turning into you? I think not. At least I know I'm a fucking wreck in the head, or at least emotionally, because I am... not because I've been fed this shit just to be able to use it out of context. I can still try to fix me but you have stopped trying because you believe some offshoot diety has given you the answers. Motherfucker try to play this shit on me. I can make it to your place and back in a day. But I have no good reason. Other than to fucking give you a solid right hook. Clearly, you are no longer worth my time.

Well, didn't really expect that to all come flooding out but I think it had to. I'll respond to him, but with a level head so I can ever-so-politely point out the flaws in his thinking. When I post the emails I may omit a few words for privacy's sake. I just want you to see (with my notes interspersed) why this made my ass cramp. Because NOW he's talking down to me. ( Oh no, little boy - I gave you the opt out clause because I was seeing that we are very different. Your lifestyle is very important to you and I did not want to put you in a place where our conversations were competing with it. That's another thing on the door of greatness jackass - knowing when it feels like a good time to let someone opt out. Not because it wouldn't affect me, but because it could affect the other person more. It is a choice called being selfless for the benefit of another... not because XYZ told you that you had to be selfless to live there. Something in me was prompting me to write the email because I was pretty sure what the outcome would be. I am not surprised but might I suggest dropping the superiority angle. It makes me want to hit you. Hard.) Sorry - guess there's just more to come out. Anyway - it'll be here soon enough. Because you don't know him the way I did for many years, you may not get why it is so opposite and why I'm so irritated by some of the things he says. That's ok. You'll get the basics of it.

I'm just so pissed (no, really...) that he is trying to turn the tables on me. Truly, I'm craftier than he thinks. I could play that game for a very long time. Thing is, at this point, a twice a year email will be fine with me. I have little desire to attempt communication with him when he is just going to try to push these 'cultural' ideas into my head. It's not like a conversation, it's like reading excerpts from a book. Like it has been rehearsed. Still, maybe at the holidays I'd like to say hi and such. Sometimes bridges burn, sometimes someone straps on an assload of C-4. I'll know when we get there. On the bright side (not yet from the C-4 explosion), I did learn something valuable. Also, it doesn't mean that the same situation may not present itself again, it just means I will be a well informed girl.

I feel better now. Thanks.

You know how people toss around the word 'coincidence' when it most likely isn't?

Yep, that is where I am. I am finding things out left and right, seeing people I've recently been thinking of yet haven't seen in two years, narrowly making it out of potentially harmful situations and learning that I've been in some of those situations for years now without knowing. It's all coming down at once. I'm becoming suspicious of every little thing I think, do or say. I just want to greet everyone I see with a big Fuck Off! Thing is, I'd feel bad. I really don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Unless I'm in 'mean mode' which is often brought about by dealing with jackasses, in which case - an extra serving of fuck off goes to you! Right now, there is nothing disabling going on. I have a feeling I may be dealing with more in the future, but that will be here soon enough and there is no reason to get into that now. I am trying to structure some things and get some things in order. The chaos around me takes it's toll. I have to get some things back to normal simply because I can't deal with the stress that the chaos brings. These are easy things - cleaning, organizing, etc. It does take alot out of me though because I just don't like being that involved in domestic crap. I can keep it neat, but when I'm in a phase and let shit get out of control, it is bad. And it takes more effort that I even think I have access to to right things. Well, I'm off to send a very blunt email. I'm realizing that I doubt I can be the person a friend of mine is used to surrounding himself with. I need to ask him up front. Honestly folks, although I think I have good qualities, the anger, doubt, bitterness and cynicism and Queen of Gloom and Doom with a side of Mean is primarily what is forefront. I don't make that decision. I start off rather opposite and this is what I become as a response. Thing is, he's made a comment about his ex wife being a very angry person and that he couldn't deal with it. That is not our relationship, but I think he might feel that he can bring me around. Sure, it might happen. But I think I will change when my life changes. Not when someone hands me a self-help book, utters a few cliches and figures I'll be all better. Just an example but you know what I mean. I don't want to continue pretending I'm the well-spoken, decently educated, understanding person that he sees me as. I mean, I am those things but I also swear like I get paid by the word, drip sarcasm, and although I know the pretty, shiny side of life is right here, I tend to be better acquainted with the darker side of it. I just think I need to say it up front. Yes, I'm a control freak - if someone is going to leave, I want it to be on my terms. But he truly has a very special place in my heart and I feel I owe him that honesty. He needs to know that for as sunny as his life is (and I am completely happy for him), my life does not exist in that glow. It may one day, but he has to know this. Kind of like informed consent for a friendship. Since I know how I am, this is no surprise to me - I don't think he really gets it, and it might be a real shock to him. I don't want him to find himself one day thinking that he's stuck with another angry person. Because I do value him as a friend, I have to say it. He's a big boy and I have to trust what he says in his reply. He will be honest as he has no reason not to. And again - he's very comfortable in his life so I don't pose any threat, honesty is kind of a given. Fuck. How do I get myself into this shit. And here's a perfect example, albeit a bit twisted, of how there is a kind, thoughtful person inside this bitchy exterior. I WISH that I didn't give two shits - but I do. Hmm. I wonder if I can have that surgically removed?...

It's not just the fact that things are weird, it's the fact that I didn't think far enough ahead.

Right now I'm not sure what to say. I don't want to whine or bitch or scream or, well, yeah - I kind of want to do all of that, but it is utterly pointless. I think that's one reason I'm so pissy.

Let me get the biggest thing off my chest. Facebook is going to be the death of me. No. I mean serious death. I have no idea what posessed me to sign up. I never liked the idea but in order to sort of keep an eye on someone I admired (I joked and called it stalking but it was more of a way to see how someone I admire lives life. It's all in the details, you know? And I need to learn some positive outlooks; I'm stalling out, and that's why I signed up.) So anyway. I am not strong enough to handle Facebook. Keep in mind that I did NOT use my real name - never. Not even with a gun to my head. And I'm not kidding. So 95% of the people on there are just a few family members, and friends, a couple of bloggers that I know will not bring up stuff from here on there, and the few people I sought out. That last part is killing me. And I wish it would hurry up. Maybe I can 'friend' Dr. Kevorkian??

As I'm sure you've caught on, I have difficulty with certain types of change - not all. So here I am being reminded of former lives and times shared, bonds made and chances lost, bad choices and a lack of purpose. It's like I've been put in a blender with it all and it is swirling round and round. Unfortunately, this started when I was in a manic phase. I still have one really big decision to make. I found my half sister on there. I don't know if I should contact her. We did exchange a letter or two years ago; I dropped the ball. She can't be on my FB though b/c of my mother. I might as well go poison her now if that's the case. But if I am to learn anything about that side of my family (think HEALTH!), then she is who I need to speak with. This is too much for me to deal with. If I had the creator of FB here I'd shoot them. Providing I had a gun. Most people may enjoy this but to me, it is life altering and panic inducing. I don't feel and experience things like most people, thankfully for you. I never thought I would be feeling this way because I figured I'd be in control. Which I am. Turns out it doesn't matter.

Work is being tossed ass over teakettle. This is the worst I've seen it in 7 years. Will be going for more testing soon. Seriously, can I 'friend' Dr. K on FB? To make it worse, a couple people have realized that this summer will be my 40th bday and they keep asking me what I want to do. I tell them 'run away'. They laugh and try to get a real answer. I don't think they can handle it if I say 'die'. Things are really fucked eight ways to nowhere right now.

I just bought this and can hardly wait for it's arrival.

You may not feel the same, but for some reason I am really diggin' it. Not typically fond of the Day of the Dead skulls but this one is completely different. Immediately I knew I needed it. And now, it is on it's way to me.

Oh dear Jesus, Budda and Allah, what have I done...

I need a keeper. That's it. During my manic phase I not only resurrected my MySpace account, but I got a Facebook account. What the FUCK was I thinking?!?! Here's the issue. I cannot be trusted. First thing, I kinda did the resurrecting for stalking purposes. No biggie - they live far away, I just wanted info. But then there's good ol' Facebook. I happened to look up the name of someone. Now. We had one of those strained relationships in college where we were friends but hung out all the time and everyone always asked us why we weren't dating. But we were very, very close and it was my fault the communication stopped. As it usually is. So on a whim I look him up. And there he is. I know it was him based on a number of factors, I didn't need a pic. So like a full on dumb ass, I sent him a message. I didn't do a friend request, just sent the message. This is not a good thing. I will do this until I combust internally. I have this need to know yet a distinct desire to NOT know. I wish those two sides of me would get on the same page one day. Nothing good can come of this. Now my former stalkee seems like childs play (harmless info, that's all it was) in comparison to the hurt I may have to relive. Do you realize that if I get a response, I will be transported back in time to a place that I am not ready to return to? Yes, I know it was me being thoughtless but now I'm going to have to live with this. Right now I'm a bit too fragile to take on that set of issues so don't remind me that it was my fault. Yet because I couldn't control myself, I had a message all written sent and in history before I realized, I did it. *sigh* I didn't send a friend request because I don't care what he's doing now. I just wanted to make sure he was ok. I missed him for years and wanted to say so - but that part I held back. I was brief. I just told him I always wondered how he was doing. Always. So the thing is that I will end up in a downward spiral. I sensed it as soon as I hit the 'send' button. I'm going to be sick. And then I'm going to need extra appointments with my therapist because I can't stop fucking up my life. If you knew how I get when the cart gets tipped, you'd understand my panic here. Too late to avert and I tipped the damned thing myself. Sonofabitch.

**Add on** No one should ever give Facebook to someone with even a slightly unstable mind. I had no idea that it would throw me into such a state of panic. It is like I'm revisiting all things lost. Sometimes they are lost for a reason, other times you can't remember why they even went away. I thought I was protecting myself (and I am) by not putting my real name on my account. I never considered that I'd have to protect myself from what I might find. Damn me and my incomplete logic!

Tell me where to go - OTHER than hell...

My time here is up. I can't explain why or how I know this, but it is all just being forced now. Truthfully, it's been up; I'm just either stubborn, dense, or stupidly hopeful. Perhaps my signature trinity. So I think of options I'd consider - back to Pittsburgh, Canada, west coast (NW) or certain parts of the south - if they could handle a heathen and I could handle bible thumpers. And I have to be near water. Even rivers. Pittsburgh has three, so that helps. It counts. Anyway. I need to go because I'll wake up one day and it will all have passed me by. My life has been a weird one and by no means do I expect that to change. I just need to spread my wings and I'm so closed in that I have no room to do that anywhere. It's as if they've been clipped. Where do I go? How do I do it? Most likely with the solid sense of 'I have no clue what I'm doing but let's just get on with it, shall we?' that I always fall back on. I am thisclose to just taking off. I just don't know if I should look for a place that I have ties to or one that I don't. This was a dilemma before. I think I failed that test. Damn life and that 'full circle' thing because here I am again. *sigh* Help? Er, please?

High as a kite folks

Not on drugs, but on my lovely little neurochemicals. I've been winding up to a mania situation for almost two weeks. Gee, really? I've posted a zillion times here (comparatively speaking), posted once on the other and kicked my one year neglected MySpace account into gear with a lovely playlist and something like three blog posts there. I can type nowhere as fast as I can talk, which is probably a really good thing. Ideas are flying and flowing and they are all colliding. I'm pissy and fussy and ever so agreeable. Food is optional as is sleep. I've got to force myself to leave now and go to bed. I'm sure I'll find 16 things to do along the way. *sigh*

I should not complain. I have been lucky enough to stay out of mania's way for a while now. The only thing is that mania is the one side of this that is almost impossible to hide. I'm trying so hard to reel it in but hey - there is NO explaining that to neurotransmitters. They do what they want and will stop when they are good and ready. All I can do is go along for the ride... wheeeeee. Ahem.

So my new therapist says I'm intelligent. Apparently this can be a not-so-good thing.

I suppose I'm going to have to dumb myself down in order to cope with life then. I mean really? Is that how it works? Cuz I can't do that. Well, I can drug myself to the max (Go Benadryl!) but I'm not a fan of drooling, either. Suppose this means that I've got to find a lifestyle/location change and work on that. Just a question on the details - how, when, where. For shit's sake, I sure as fuck don't want to find like-minded people - I'm NUTS! Like I need more of that in my life!

So anyway, I'll leave you with this quickie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQT7G7yeYr8

Obsessive you say? I call it focused.

Ok, truly it IS obsessive but I'll never admit it. I am 39 years old and get major fits of obsession. Sure, alot of it is the bipolar and OCD tendencies, but I have always been the kind of person that will bore a hole through something with my gaze until I feel satisfied with my accomplishment.

There is nothing bad here, except for the fact that it's weird and obsessivey. I really am like a heat seeking missile, and no, that isn't a metaphor. There are at least 4 things I'm jumping on now and damn can I ever exhaust myself. Oddly, I feel productive at these times, even though most of the obsession isn't warranted or even functional, really.

I don't know why I brought it up but I think it's kind of funny to see someone other than a 13 year old in this mode. Maybe it'll end soon. Until then, I'm just along for the ride folks, until I tire myself out. =)

Some days just blow filthy ass. That is the only way to say it.

Granted. I've been a bit off with a few doses of meds, nothing major. Granted. PMS time is here. Even with these things in mind, I've been handling it. Even been in a slightly decent mood lately! Lots going on around me but sort of feeling separate, which is how it should be. The things in my life have been somehow held at bay, which is fine. But today the switched flipped. And do you know what? Because I let myself hope. And that hope rapidly turned into disappointment. Begin the downward spiral.

All of the other things that have been going on in my head became magnified when the disappointment hit. Knowing I do not handle disappointment well, I so very rarely let myself feel hope or excitement or possibility. I temper it as a safety mechanism. See, when that bottom drops out, it all comes back and I get overwhelmed. When I get overwhelmed I reach for things I shouldn't. Which is why I'm forcing myself to type; keeps my hands busy.

I doubt I will ever truly 'get over' this. Which I suppose I can live with. Thing is, I need to almost fully stop hoping lest I get disappointed and start eyeing up cutlery. So yeah, most would say that is no way to live - without hopes, dreams, looking forward to things, letting yourself feel excitement - but neither is trying to stall yourself long enough until the feeling passes. I don't want to live in a world where I can only have plastic fast food utensils lest I use the real sort for purposes unintended.

What goes so wrong in anyone's head that hurting yourself actually makes the emotional pain go away? I know most of the answers, but I will also most likely struggle with this the rest of my life. I talk about it occasionally now because it has been such a part of me for so long that I simply can't deny it. You may hit a high level of disappointment and cry. If I get overwhelmed with it I end up cleaning up a mess and coming up with creative stories as to how I 'hurt' myself. Through the years I've already come up with invisible places. That way no one sees or knows. That is how I hid it until I was 31. At that time, which was 8 years ago, I learned that it was actually a 'thing' that had a name and I wasn't the only person that did it. I spoke to my doc and my mom. It was never fully a secret since then. I has been a while - maybe close to 2 years since anything happened. It takes strength to not fall into old patterns especially when the feelings that cause the behavior are still rather active.

None of it is really important anyway. I just am upset because I let myself hope. And of course, it came crashing down and brought other things, that had been minding their own business, along with it. I don't know how I can still be so foolish to allow myself to be in that position. Hoping is too dangerous for me. One day maybe someone can answer my question: How is it possible for one person to be filled with so much pain that they have to cut themselves to release it and let it flow out? It doesn't seem right.

A nice moment in time...

Although I often live in my head quite a bit, I am not delusional nor do I think the world is in love with me. Far, far from it.. I just make them talk to me. What I do think is that tonight I had a little bit of luck (right place, right time and the sense to make use of it) to engage in a very brief conversation with a lovely boy we'll call... well, we'll call him Stu because that's his name. =)




Stu is in a band (more on that later) and I will tell you why I'm a bit taken with him. He is intensely musically inclined (multiple instruments), together but lively, and has such an open, genuine face. It's not about looks (although personally, I do think he's good looking, truth be told), it's more about approachability and understanding and welcoming - it some sort of vibe he gives off. He would do that even if he didn't have that mildly unruly mop.




For three shows, I've obviously had no reason to speak with him - why would I? Tonight, after dinner but before the show, I saw him casually leaning against the wall on his phone and for a moment he left, then he was back for a nice 20 second viewing or so. No, I was not staring but I was mumbling, 'there's Stu - there's Stu... no, like right there'.




We had a special table set up for us and as security was taking us back telling us it was a good seat and Stu was coming toward us. I figured, oh come on LiVEwiRe, surely you can entice him into saying something without seeming to have tried. I asked the guard just loud enough (with that joking, yet wide eyed innocence type thing girls do) if he was planning on seating us up on the stage. At which point Stu paused and said, 'well, why not'? I told him I planned on singing along and he said 'even better' - I laughed and told him my fear was of clearing the house... ;) He looked thoughtful and said, 'in that case, maybe you better not' - gave me a giant smile and waved. I never let on that I knew who he was. That vibe is there up close too, not just on stage. Nice little moment in time.

Photos from Matthewgood.org/Flicker

Saying my life is peculiar is like saying Mt. Etna is occasionally tempermental

Switching gears here, I have a funny little story. Keep in mind that there is nothing sinister about this story nor was there any malicious intent. Sit for a moment and just take in the vapors of what I call my life...

Brief history - I've seen like, a gazillion doctors in my life. Perhaps a few less but you get the idea. I've got miles under my belt with docs and have pretty much seen it all. Until now...

So a handful of years back we got a new doc and he was just great. I mean, from a general viewpoint; I never had to see him personally. He was always very friendly and smiling a zillion watt smile. There was a part of me that always liked just hearing him speak because when I was young, my mother had a coworker that was from the same country that this doc is from. Her coworker was so nice and always had time to chat with me... a child! Needless to say that anytime I hear anyone with that accent it makes me all warm and fuzzy feeling. (See, I am too capable of it!)

Anyway, from the time I saw this doc I thought he was very handsome. Add in the smile and the accent and you can imagine that I always enjoyed running into him in the halls from time to time. Some time last year we learned that our birthdays are something like 10 days apart and we always joke about making the other wear a birthday hat, etc. He's just personable and when in the spotlight (out and about in the hospital) I'm very outgoing. Easy to see how we chat and joke, right? Right. It is fair to say that even though he is not available I've always had a harmless crush on him.

So as life would have it, I had to see this doc a few days back. When he walked in and asked just what I thought I was doing in his office, I said simply that I hadn't seen him nearly enough in the hosital these days so I made an appointment. We both got a good laugh then got on with the appointment, obviously.

The appointment concludes and he stands up and puts his arms out for a larger than life hug and I obliged - he's just that way; no harm. About a three seconds into it I realized that this had turned into a giant full-body hug, pressed firmly to the knees and uh, shouldn't it be ending by now? So I kind of lean my upper body back and just looked at him (hoping to hide my puzzlement as to why he still had his arms around me) and he leaned down and kissed me. Kissed me people! Not a quick brush, it was surely intended as much as he was still holding on to me, yet he was not trying to lick my molars. Which is good. That would have creeped me out.

So there you have it. The doc that I've always had a harmless, unspoken crush on just shocked the hell out of me right there in his office. And I have alot of hell in me, so that should speak volumes! I just keep telling myself that he's a whooole lot friendlier than I thought and I've got to keep my rapidly disintegrating senses about me. My worst fear is finding myself in an elevator with him. Not so much for what he would do, but for what I'd have to keep myself from doing.

I just hope my insurance company does not charge extra for that portion of the visit...

And so my heart breaks

Because of Isabella I will always know that somewhere along the way, I made a right choice. A little over 14 years ago I came to meet an adult cat that had been abused and was terrified of humans beyond belief. Knowing in my heart that she was a special needs cat due to the severity of her trauma, I took her and accepted the long bumpy road that now stretched before me. There was a chance she would hide all of her days, bite me out of fear from past abuse or hate me simply because I'm human - like the ones that hurt her.



As time went on it would come to be that I taught her trust and she taught me patience. As her health began to decline last year, I did everything I could and she responded well. The past six months were markedly difficult with me administering medications and IV fluids. She still found joy in daily life and so I cared for her, even as she began losing so much weight that I called her 'my little supermodel'.


Last week I came home from work and knew she had taken a turn for the worst. All night and through the morning I stayed awake and by her side. Showing signs of certain distress, yet not necessarily pain, I knew that I'd have to do the only thing for her that I could. She trusted me. I could not fail her.



Her brave battle ended one week ago. My sweet little girl has moved on. Life is no longer a struggle for her; for me, that is an entirely different story. Logic tells me that I did what was right for her, and I believe that. Somehow I thought that understanding that would make it easier on me. I was very, very wrong. I am not doing well without her.



My heart aches from the loss. I don't know how to live without her yet. For all the time there is, there is never enough, is there? Goodbye, Isabella. All the love in the world.
~

I'm only like, six weeks late.

I really had every intention of posting sooner. Truth is life is a bit of a shitfest and I couldn't post without bitching. So I didn't post. For the moment, I just need to talk about one thing.

My mother forwarded a message to me. A friend from my childhood found her on Facebook and was hoping she was my mom and asked if she could get a message to me. Her message? She has been trying to find me for years (truth) and that we were best friends in grade school (partial truth). She says that I was the one that got her through a very difficult childhood. Oddly, my friendship with her aided in me becoming a seriously defective person. Years of therapy, and I don't joke.

Funny how she is grateful for me being there and I often regret the fact that I was ever in her life. Two sides, same coin. It wasn't her fault but I've spent more than 20 years avoiding her because of what happened, trying to forget things. I will contact her. I have to. I'm seriously afraid. She mentions her difficult childhood so I know it will be addressed. I've spent a lifetime pretending the events co-mingled with our friendship could just be buried. But now they are back, almost 30 years later.

These events, along with others, made me want to run and disappear. My mind does stall out and leave when I find myself facing similar moments. I've run most of my life but its back. None of it ever fucking went away but I was able to keep it at bay. And now it is back. And the very idea scares the hell out of me. I will not be able to contain it. I will spend my time talking with her and consoling her when the time comes. She deserves that more than you can imagine. And then I will take it out on those closest to me. And I will become more hateful and bitter than I thought I could be.

And then I will take it out on myself. It saddens me that she gives me so much credit. A real friend would have killed him.

For the moment I have only one thing to say.

I am waiting for test results. I don't know if I ever mentioned anything about it. Back in May I learned that I'd need to follow up with a retest to see if there have been any changes. For reasons I'll disclose at a later time (read: a few days) truth be told, I'm kind of scared. This kind of 'scared' made me realized that not much in life scares me anymore and I'm out of practice.

Some sort of results will be given to me Monday although I have no idea what to expect. It would be great if this would be one of those times where I have some weird malady and get every test in the world only to find out it's all normal.

Keep you posted.

There are so many things I could say right now

But I'm going to wait just a bit longer. Not that it'll be much different, I've just had too long a day as it is. And miles to go before I sleep... isn't that how it ends?

My neurons, starring Marilyn Manson

She was the color of TV
Her mouth curled up just like a metal snake...
(Valentine's Day, Marilyn Manson; Valentine Soundtrack)

Lately I've wondered of any of my teachers, early employers knew me and thought, 'Now there's someone you're gonna wanna watch out for. Something a little funny with that girl.' I usually hide it. Not so much here, but generally. Can't help but wonder who saw through it before I honed those skills. Who knew before I did just what was up in this head of mine. What it was going to be capable of. What it fights to pretend its not capable of.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons I've sort of taken to the formerly despised act of shopping. It makes me feel normal. Like I find some comfort in it now because its what I think normal people do. I see them shop. They look normal. None of them are hiding in a corner by the dog food trying to superglue their asshole shut. Not one of them stares at the light bulbs fighting back the urge to grab onto a couple and crush them bare handed just to see what it feels like. They seem happy shopping. So I've been doing it for a while now and it isn't so bad. I get lost in it, but of course, I'm fairly frugal. But I've found a way to blend. I remember a headshrinker told me many years ago to 'fake it til you make it', meaning that even when you don't want to smile, if you force yourself to do it enough, it will become second nature and then before you realize it, you'll be smiling intentionally. So I emulate these so-called normal folk. I sure as hell hope they aren't using the same method I am. (Make no mistake, I still detest grocery shopping. It makes me physically ill and eventually violent until I want to smash jars, scream like a child and piss on the frozen corn. Good for the corn at least I'm a girl and can't aim that high.) So for now I will shop. And hope the normality sinks in, a miracle of the mundane.

There is something in my head that needs a little fixing but I don't know how. I gradually went off my meds full-on for about a week. There was no downward spiral. Now that I am reintroducing I am getting an upward spiral. Which is the same thing I would expect a downward spiral to be except it is with drug reintroduction, not the decrease/elimination of. So it isn't positive. I was hoping a short break would level me out but not so much. Perhaps the timing was not right. I'm continuing back to my normal dose.

There are so many self realizations occurring that I really feel I should put it down on paper when I become aware of it because my memory is dodgy at best. Unfortunately I couldn't risk it. They would find a place for me where they put corn pissers with their assholes glued shut. So life just gets a little stranger.

Even though it was alive

some of us are really born to die...

(Valentine's Day, Marilyn Manson; Valentine Soundtrack)

For Absenteeism, press '1'

I don't have a slip, excuse or note to explain mine. Not officially anyway. I will wish you all a happy new year, which I figure doesn't have to have caps due to the fact that it was over a week ago. My blog, my rules.

Hopefully yours have collectively started well. Mine ended shittily and started shittily. Maybe overwhelmed is a better word. Either way it is kind on par for me. As for 'shittily' - again, my blog, my word.

One thing that comes to mind is that I have made an actual effort to make myself more available to a good friend of mine. I had pulled away so far that I thought it was all done and over but it isn't. It takes more effort than I sometimes feel I have but yet I do it. Because I want to, yes, but I think that if I don't it will just pave the way for me to drop out completely.

So here it is entirely too cold. Just before the new year the snow/wind/cold machine went into overdrive. I think it is 12F/~11C out there now sans wind chill. Other than giving the excuse that I may actually be frozen in place, why do I live here and endure this? Granted, there are places that are much worse but this isn't a contest - this sucks enough. And why don't those people move, anyway?

I don't know anything yet I know too much. What I desire to know evades me while I cannot rid myself to the things that haunt me. But to help settle all that chaos, I must proudly announce that I have a new phone. The evil Blackberry is sitting, uh, well, I don't know really where it is now. But I got a Sony Ericsson Equinox. Google if you wish. That switch was a great stress reducer.

The only question I have now is 'do I bullet the entries or run them all together'. I opted for the latter, less daunting. When I haven't posted in a while, I always update you on the goings on here. True to form and in no particular order... well, my cat Bella is actively dying which is terrible to deal with, and leads into the fact that I still have the almost nine month kitten living on my enclosed (but not heated) patio - no takers yet and he can't be in the house harassing Bella so I've made warm houses for him but for shits sake, his water freezes it's so cold! He likes his warm house (truly warm) but has a serious defecit when it comes to socialization - I hate this. I had a bizzare account where I felt pain, tingling and decreased range of motion in my left arm along with a non-trauma related, actively bleeding bruise on my arm the size of a grapefruit. Lasted about two weeks but all tests say 'normal'... um, suuuure. Which oddly led me to the next thing. I just learned that I need joint replacement surgery. Seriously - my knee. I'm 39! I am bone on bone - no cartilage in the medial compartment. Because of other meds I can't really do anything for the pain. My car's wheel just locked up again last night like it did back in March when I ground my tire down to the metal tread. It cleared then froze up again this morning. I don't have time for this shit when they told me it was a 'total fluke' last time. I don't want to look for another car in the winter. My attitude is increasingly unstable and I have done a 180 at work. I do my job and stop. I have been taken advantage of long enough. And that is precisely what it is. Now I am assigned to the single most lazy, foolish, manipulative, chauventistic, and did I mention lazy pharmacist in the region. He plays dumb just to get people to do his work. (Never said he was dumb.) I spend most days trying not to speak lest something utterly foul come out of my mouth. Mom is still not working. My horrible attitude is causing a rift between my grandmother and me. It saddens me but I dont' know what to do. She is in no way guilt-free but I'd say 80% of the changable portion is my fault. I can no easier change what is going on in my head than you can spontaneously change your eye color. Oh, and the Trigeminal Neuralgia came back for several weeks; just tapering off meds now. And I got cute new specs which the eye folks promptly fucked up, then 're-fucked up' until I had them (wrong script/astigmatism) on my orbs for almost six weeks. That hurts the orbs, really. A very, very good friend of mine's daughter is having a baby in two months. I already sense myself distancing myself. Our relationship is changing as I write this because of her daughter's pregnancy. If you could ask her right now she would tell you that she will devote everything to her daughter and the baby. I think some of it is really overboard on her part but who am I to give an example of normality? I know she senses that something is different between us on a beginning level but is kind of confused. When she asks, I will be honest with her. I know I'm losing her to this situation and it is easier on me to start now. I need to get the mindset. Will she still be my friend, yes. But on a lesser level. It is just the way this will go. I know her and I know me. I expect this from her in the same way I expect this from me. It is the way things will go. And today I received a letter asking me to fill out a questionnaire for summons to jury duty. WHAT?! That would most likely send me into an anxiety attack because I am not reliable as far as making decisions of that nature. The meds help, they don't fix. I'll either be yelling kill the son of a bitch or they'll be calling an ambulance because I'm clutching my chest out of panic from the idea of making the wrong decision. Or that I've taken the nearest reasonably sharp object. Honestly, that situation is one that could get me utterly rocked off my block. I don't expect them to understand mental illness, but I have a fairly keen grasp and I won't put myself through an experience that could have dire circumstances, mentally and emotionally. They've given me three days to return the form yet how am I supposed to obtain a letter from my doc that quickly (as they ask you to do if there is a reason you feel you cannot serve) to explain? I've decided I'll fill it out and send it to them and if they want more info, they can contact me. My life, my rules.

I suppose I really don't have an adequate phrase to sum up my level of frustration at this time. My thoughts of just being able to cease being have never left. Perhaps because most things are a struggle and I've become a tired, tired girl. And one who is gaining weight. Stress eater here, and when I control it during the day, I eat in my sleep at night. I'd hoped to take some time and got to a Pens home hockey game with a girl from work but with my car in the shop I just don't know if I can afford the tickets now. I really need the time away - for fun. I just don't think it's happening.

Happily though, I remembered that they make Coconut Creme coffee creamer and although it doesn't make my life as ideal as a sappy commercial, it comes close on some days. =)

That is what I know for now. I'm afraid there isn't anything more exciting but I'll be hopping around to visit later. I hope that each of you are well.

~