shimmer.pop

Deleted.

2012-01-03T22:44:00.001-08:00

I don’t really know what to do.

I’m severely depressed at the moment and I don’t know how to say I need some attention.

I don’t necessarily want to talk about what’s wrong.

I just want to have extra care that people will talk to me.

Spend time with me.

Notice me.

I keep thinking about how my mom bought me new blades for the exacto knife.

And doing crazy things.

Like cutting my own hair.

And sleeping really odd hours.

I feel like a freak.

I’m tired.

I want to go back to a month ago. When I was all energetic and creative and in a good mood.

I don’t want to sit here by myself and feel so separate.

Alone.

But I can’t say “I need you”.

It makes me feel weak.

And I can’t feel any weaker than I already do.

I don’t want to be that vulnerable.

No one helps me right anyway.

I just feel worse.

And then have to fake it, so they don’t feel bad.

So I can go home and not have to be fake anymore.

But I fake it here too.

Hiding from even online friends.

Not like they notice.

I wish they would notice.

I want to say hi.

But they never say hi.

What happened?

Why does it matter?

If I want to talk, I should just talk.

But it’s like I’m mute.

My fingers won’t move.

Staring at me.

Expectations of me.

Never living up.

Always a failure.

I want to try again.

Wanted to try again.

Was thinking about it.

Planning it.

Dreaming of it.

But the bottom always falls out.

Always always.

Forever.

It will be like this forever.

Is it hard to love me?

Is it scary to love me?

Things are never easy.

Why can’t they be easy?

Just a little.

I don’t want to be scared.

I don’t want to be lonely.

I don’t want to be so tired.

I don’t want it to hurt.

Lovemelovemeloveme.

Just as I am.

Don’t wish I was different.

Don’t patronize my differences.

Don’t tell me different is good.

Don’t lie to me.

I don’t need protection.

Honesty and respect.

Simple truth.

The things I want.

The things I need.

I only know how to ask for the ones that don’t matter.

I sometimes wish I could disappear.

But I don’t want to be forgotten.

Even when I’m there, I feel forgotten.

Left out.

Unneeded.

Unwanted.

Less than.

It’s the same everywhere.

Someone else is always better.

Substitute.

Fill-in.

I just want to disappear.

Hide away.

Go back to when there were so few.

It didn’t matter as much.

I don’t want to care so much.

It’s too hard.

It hurts too much.

I break and I break and I break.

And I don’t understand.

How can it hurt so much?

Why does everything always always hurt so much?

I want to disappear.

Hide away.

Shut myself up.

Protect.

Protect what’s left.

So very little of it left.

I want to rant and rage.

2011-11-19T06:02:00.001-08:00

I don’t think I’ll ever get married. I don’t even want to date. A relationship sounds like something terrible nowadays. Always having to compromise yourself. Make concessions. The thought of it pisses me off.

And then if you get married, you’re trapped. Maybe not forever, but knowing me, I’d take after my mother and give it a twenty-year shot.

I’ve already wasted too much of my life.

Passed up too much.

I hate it. I hate it all.

Besties and their boyfriends. :x

2011-11-11T04:21:00.001-08:00

So, Sarah called me earlier to ask if it was okay if she came over because her boyfriend hadn’t gotten back to her and she wanted to hang out. I said sure, that’d be awesome, I really wanted to see her & was in the mood for company. Get off the phone & am all happy because I’m getting my apartment picked up finally and I’ll get to see my bestie, whom I haven’t seen in more than a month. Well, then she calls me back a bit later to say she called her boyfriend and he does kind of want to see her, but was very unenthusiastic sounding about it. (They’d been fighting.) So now instead of coming to see me, she was going to go and hang out with him. And while the original plan was that she’d go hang out with him and we’d hang out this weekend sometime, she had called when she figured that plan wasn’t happening & we made plans & then she just up & ditched me. And I get it, I totally get it. They were fighting and she wanted to go and reassure him and herself that thing’s were fine & were going to be fine, but it’s so frustrating because she’s does all these things that she hates about other people and is so oblivious to the fact that she’s doing them.

Like, her life totally revolves around this guy now. And that’s fine, but what bothers me is that she claims to be so self aware and she doesn’t see this. She doesn’t see that she does all sorts of behavior that she despises in others. AND THEN SHE GOES ON AND ON AND ON ABOUT HOW SELF AWARE SHE IS. It’s maddening.

I don’t know really what to do about it. Saying anything is pointless I’m sure and I’m too terrified to do so anyway. Because of more than one thing, but mostly because of that time where I actually stood up for myself and her and I had a complete falling out & didn’t speak for two years.

I wish I could be as honest with her as I am with some of my online friends.

It just bothers me so much. The constantly talking about her boyfriend, every topic eventually somehow leads back to him. And I can’t say anything, even when she says “do you want me to stop talking about him?” because I remember how much it hurt me when she told me she didn’t want to hear anything more about my boyfriend (now ex, this was many years ago xD).

I already get very little time in the conversation to speak, but now she just interrupts me so she can keep talking. I don’t understand how someone who puts so much time into researching communication and relationships and is so careful with her other friends, can be so oblivious and rude and inconsiderate and hurtful to me. Is it because it’s me? It doesn’t matter, since it’s me.

Since it’s me, and supposedly that fight was completely my fault and supposedly I was completely self-absorbed and inconsiderate and hurtful back then, maybe she thinks it’s okay to do it to me now?

I don’t think I was all that bad. And a lot of the time she talks like she had no part in the wrongdoing. I know that I did mess up, but I think the problems were caused by both of us, not just me. I don’t know how to broach the subject with her, or how to resolve any of this, or even if it’s worth it, since so much of it is just old baggage.

But I hate it. It bothers me. Mostly because I really do love & like her. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t even know how to say what I want to say or even really what it is that really bothers me. Although the boyfriend thing really bothers me.

Don’t know if I’m more or less frustrated now. xD

Search

2011-09-30T01:23:00.001-07:00

I’m looking online for a counselor right now.

I want to make myself small and hide away where no one can find me.

Trauma.

Mood disorders.

Trauma.

Anxiety.

Trauma.

Depression.

Abuse.

Trauma.

TraumaTraumaTraumaTraumaTrauma.

Hide me. Now.

Don’t look.

I don’t want people to know. Don’t want them to see.

How can a few words be so terrifying?

If I want things to change.

If I want things to be better.

If I can have hope that things might be better.

I need to do this.

But.

These words.

They scare me.

They scream at me.

Taunt me.

Tear me up.

I’m damaged.

Unfixable.

Broken.

Why try?

Failure is the only thing you can expect.

Try and you’ll just be slammed down again.

They’ll want to know.

Want to see.

You can’t show them.

Can’t show them.

Mind in tatters.

Heart taped together.

Can’t see.

Don’t look.

Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook.

If I screamed for help.

No one would hear.

If I reached out a hand.

It would just get slapped away.

Have to do it on my own.

Always on my own.

Don’t trust.

Can’t trust.

There’s only ever pain.

I want to speak.

To tell.

But.

Can’t.

Won’t.

Don’t know how.

Want to keep myself separate.

Want to not feel.

Want to live numb.

Want to turn away.

Pretend it’s not there.

Not there.

Lurking.

Waiting.

Behind that wall.

If I’m weak.

If I speak.

Consume.

Devour.

Blackness.

Screaming & screaming.

But never any sound.

I built up some hope.

Some courage.

Felt like I wanted to try.

I wish.

I don’t know how.

Continued.

2011-08-31T14:38:00.001-07:00

Still no good at saying anything to anyone about it. Can’t. Don’t want to. Don’t want anyone to see how weak I am. Don’t show them. All you can expect for it, is pain. You learned this lesson. Again. And again. And again. It’s superficial. No one really wants to know. No one really wants to deal with it. If you stretch out your hand, the only thing you can expect is to get smacked. Mocking. What? You want to cry? You gonna cry? No. I won’t. Never. Hit me. Hurt me. Break me. Again. And again. And again. I’ll lock it away. Smile. Laugh. Joke. Never show the pain.

Insignificant.

2011-05-23T06:54:00.001-07:00

I think I want to go back to when I didn’t like people. Or not very many people. I think I was happier for longer then. I hate how I get now. It’s just like back then, and that really didn’t turn out well. I don’t know how to be any different though and I’m kind of tired of trying. I just want to be me and have people like me like this.

Always putting up fronts, trying to be how I think I should be. Not being able to be honest, even with people I trust very deeply. I can’t afford to get hurt anymore. I can’t handle it. It’s too much. It’s too hard.

I feel like I messed up again, but I don’t know when, and I don’t know how. If I could, I’d just run away, but I don’t think I can. Or maybe just don’t want to.

I don’t think I want to know how everyone’s lives can just go on without me. That it doesn’t actually matter if I’m there. Or here, or anywhere.

I feel silly, wallowing in my own self-pity. I don’t know how to tell people I need reassurance, I don’t want anyone to know how weak I am. I still don’t know how to speak. I just…I still don’t really know anything. Another year gone and still nothing’s been resolved.

I lost track of what I wanted to say. Guess I’ll really go to bed now.

Dumbfuckery.

2011-05-19T04:32:00.001-07:00

I don’t know what to do. I don’t particularly want to block this person but I’m worried for my own sanity that I should. And really this is ridiculous. And I know how ridiculous it is and yet, I can do nothing to stop all these stupid feelings that are driving me nuts.

I’ve been thinking of having another acct again but I don’t know if I really want to do that either. The whole stupid point of twitter and a blog and stuff was so that I would stop censoring myself, not just have more forums in which to not say whatever I want and/or need to.

Urgh. Stop it. Stop taking them away. Which is ridiculous and I know it. I really do. But I’m no good at listening to myself. Or other people. Fucking a. I want to start this post over but then again, maybe I don’t. Should just post it and ignore it. Yeah, I’ll do that.

2011-05-01T03:17:00.001-07:00

I’m pretty certain no one even notices.

2011-04-14T04:49:00.001-07:00

Why does everyone go so far away from me? I hate it. More than anything.

2011-04-14T04:28:00.001-07:00

Please don’t disappear from my life. If I asked you all to stay, would you?

2011-03-27T12:59:00.001-07:00

Laying in bed crying over something someone said on twitter, I feel really stupid. I know that I talk dirty but I never thought I talked cruelly, I know sometimes I say something mean, and I’m totally self-absorbed but now I just feel like some piece of shit.

I wish I didn’t care, but the person who said it, I actually liked and it was so out of the blue. This is so stupid. I’m so stupid. I hate crying. I really hate crying over things because of other people.

I don’t even know what to say.

It starts out here & goes there but I don’t know how.

2011-03-19T21:09:00.001-07:00

I know that people think I’m making a big deal over nothing with this whole trip thing, but I hate traveling and I’m going to a place where all I remember really are bad things. I’m excited to see my aunt and hopefully my godfather, but I didn’t need to, I think I would’ve been happier not going, even though I know I would’ve regretted it.

I’m tired of people judging me by their standards. I’m not them and if I choose to live my life differently, that’s okay and it doesn’t make me a failure or a coward or anything else.

Going to Minnesota scares me. I don’t want to get there and be constantly thinking about the past, remembering the past. I don’t know how not to associate the two. I’ve only been back twice since that day and I just don’t feel ready. Maybe I am thinking too much into it, I don’t know how not to. I’m not even going to go to my old house, but even being at my aunt’s has so many memories, and most of the last one’s weren’t good.

He stood on our back porch and waved. Waved. Like we were going on vacation. Like we’d be back. He didn’t try to stop us. He just smiled that smirky little grin and waved. He choose the pills. A 2mg tablet had more worth than I did. Than I ever will.

How am I supposed to get over that? How do I move on? Forget? How am I supposed to go back and smile and be happy and I don’t even know. Put on a show, fake it. Fake everything. Like I do here. No one wants me to be me. No one loves me as me. I don’t understand. I don’t know what I did wrong. I don’t even really know what I’m saying. I just want to scream, and cry, and bleed. I’m always trapped inside my own head. Running in circles in my mind. I don’t know how to stop, how to go straight, how to end it. I get so tired. So tired of everything. Even breathing feels like too much work. How do people live? I just exist. I want to know what its like to live.

Senseless

2011-03-19T01:53:00.001-07:00

Not really sure what to say, just know I don’t really feel like tweeting at the moment. I got all excited about something and then tonight realized that what was said was just a passing comment that I read too much into because of something else that was said. Was feeling pretty good, but now I just feel disappointed and kind of stupid. I always feel stupid. I am stupid.

It’s just frustrating, I just wish that they loved me as much as I loved them. That they didn’t contain things. Put boundaries on what they say they feel. This is confusing I’m sure but just in case. I sigh too much.

I feel pathetic. Totally lame. I want to complain about twitter like its real life, when its not. Even though I don’t really like that distinction cause they are real people, I’m more real there. But I’m also less real there. I don’t know, everything gets so confusing lately.

I’m not making sense and I’m tired, I should go to bed, but I just feel like there’s stuff to say and its not being said for fear of who might read this. That’s my problem everywhere it seems. I just wish I wasn’t such a chicken. Able to just speak, and have it be normal. I wish I wasn’t afraid of people. Mostly men. I know where that came from, but I don’t know what to do about it. I hate this icky feeling in my chest. Want it gone. I hate being scared. Of everything. Its worthless. It doesn’t help, its just crippling.

Ugh. So tired. No more blogging. And maybe bed.

?.?

2011-03-10T03:14:00.001-08:00

Crazy rambling time? Maybe~ maybe not~ I just wanted to write and have no writing program installed. Major bummer yo. And what did I want to write about? Well, fuck if I know. >.>

Think I need to stop these meds. They seem to work really well. All the way to where I’m going manic. Which, let’s be honest, I kind of love. I guess it’s the hypomania I love. Since my mania seems to be more on the verge of psychosis, what with the not sleeping and all the super crazy stuff I do. Makes for good stories though. <.< the bright side I guess?

“And I don’t want to live like my mother, I don’t want to let fear rule my life~ and I don’t want to live like my father, I don’t want to give up before I die~” _Smile Empty Soul “Silhouettes”

Music is wonderful.

What was I on about anyway? I haven’t a clue yo.

Half-written

2011-03-07T13:10:00.000-08:00

DAMMIT. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT TO SAY BUT I KNOW THERE'S SOMETHING I NEED TO SAY. YES. CAPS. BECAUSE IT HELPS.

FRUSTRATION. INABILITY. ANGER. SCREAMING. QUESTIONING. I HATE ALL OF YOU. YOU PISS ME OFF. I LOVE YOU. BUT YOU FUCKING PISS ME OFF. HATE/LOVE. CONSTANTLY. YOU INSPIRE ME. YOU MAKE ME WANT TO BE BETTER. IT HURTS. I DON'T KNOW HOW.

Things just slip away from me. All the time. People get so far ahead and I'm always trying to catch up. I never do. They just get further and further ahead until it's impossible. I'm so tired of always being here, in this place that never goes anywhere. It's not like I don't want to. I'm so scared, of trying. Of failing again. Of having the bottom drop out and being like that again. Dead inside. Empty. Only agony. And despair.

Even if things aren't great right now, at least they aren't that. How do people do it? Keep trying. Even just thinking about it makes me want to cover my eyes. Curl up in a small space. Scream. Take a razor to my wrists.

What should I do? I don't want to live like this for the next sixty years. I'd just kill myself and be done with it, but I don't really want to be dead either. If I'm dead, nothing would ever change. And with my luck, god will be real and I'll end up in hell and have to live like this forever.

I have no idea how to live. I only know how to survive. How to get by.

a.m. thoughts.

2011-03-03T23:34:00.000-08:00

I'm starting to realize that my family doesn't do the things they do for me for my sake, but for my mom's.

They don't want me. They never look at me with pride. The only praise I get is after I express the want for it. They're never proud of me. Tasks that are easy for them to do, can be so difficult for me & even if I try to explain, they don't understand.

I'm starting to think my brother resents me. For being so needy all the time. He barely talks to me & when he does, its always in an angry voice.

My dad's at least always been clear. Mom first, then Kevin & if he feels like it, me.

They want to be able to pretend & if they don't see me, its much easier. I get it. So, I'll pretend too. When I'm around them. Which won't be much probably, since they always have stuff they're doing. Then maybe they can be happy. & maybe they'll want to see me more.

But I won't tell them if I'm sad. Or scared. Or lonely. Or anything. They don't want to deal with it anyway. Its fine. It'll be fine.

I think its impossible to love me as I am

...

2011-02-01T15:20:00.000-08:00

I went. I told them about this. About how I am. How I've been. I did that. You made me. So I went and I did it. Now, you hound me to tell you how it went, and then you talk to me with disbelief in your voices of what I have to say. What the hell was the point then? Why do I even bother? I speak and you hear nothing of what I'm saying. What did I do? When was it that I became so distrustworthy that you can't believe me when the outcome only affects me? Yes, I do lie to you, but it's only so you all can be happy. So you don't worry.

I didn't want to go back. I don't want to talk. Just from today, all I can see when I close my eyes is pavement hot enough to burn the bottoms of bare feet, smell the fresh cut grass. Don't make me think about what happens next. I don't want to remember. I want it to fade, to disappear. But here it is, running around in my head, tearing my mind to shreds, breaking me all over again

Broken.

2010-11-17T14:30:00.001-08:00

Can’t stand it. Can’t stand it. Why don’t you answer? Why are you always always unavailable when I need you? I don’t need your advice or an ear for listening, I just need you. You’re just as crazy as me and while you don’t always get me, you always get this.

I’m at my breaking point. Implode or explode. One or the other. Either way, I’ll let them all down again. Be the screw up again. If I could just not be me I would. I don’t know how. I suppress it as much as I can. If I could I’d go away where you could just pretend everything’s fine and be happy and not have to deal with me. I know I’m a disappointment. I know you want to fix broken, damaged, misguided me. Blaming yourself, blaming me, loving me, hating me, wishing I was different, angry that I’m not different.

Broken. Broken. Broken. Did you break me? Did I break me? When did I break? Was I always broken? Should’ve just given me back. Shouldn’t have had me in the first place. I’m not like him. I can only be me. Always, always. Chest hurts. Head hurts. Screaming. Screaming. Always screaming. I wish you would hurt me. Hate me. Why do you love me? Staring at me with those stupid eyes. I hurt you. Being me hurts you. Makes you cry. Makes you bleed inside. Hate me. If you hate me, it would be easier. Maybe for you, maybe for me. Talking, talking. Whispers and stares like I don’t know it’s me. I watch you two. I’m not allowed in. I ruin it. Make it sad. That’s why you sound so angry. I should disappear. I see it. “What? What do you want?” just sounds like “get away. Get the hell away.” What should I do? I have nowhere to go. Nobody wants me. Not me. Not this. Who would? Who could? Empty, empty. Pain, pain. Fear, fear. Hate me. Hurt me. I’ll never say a word.

I don’t want you. Why are you here? Go away useless thinking. Stop tearing up my mind, my heart. Screaming, I never make a sound. Bleeding, but why can’t I die? Why won’t you let me die? I want to die. I don’t want to die. Where is my peace? Safety. No refuge. Taken away. It was taken away. My solace. My escape. Tainted. Made yours, not mine. Why? Am I allowed nothing? Do I deserve this? What did I do? A wish I made so many years ago? Punishment. Payment. Atonement.

Shaking. Trembling. Why don’t I cry? Never cry. Never never. Don’t speak. Don’t cry. Take it. Take it all and just die a little more inside. I was laughing. I was happy. I deserve to suffer. It’s my fault. My fault. A broken family. A broken home. A broken mind. A broken heart.

Get out of my head. Get out get out get out getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout. I hate you. I love you. I hate me. I love me. Which is true? Is this reality or is that? I don’t know anymore. Did I ever? I just don’t know. And maybe don’t want to.

Cutting

2010-11-17T02:28:00.001-08:00

Last night when I was visiting my friend, we somehow started talking about cutting. She’s a cutter and has been for years. As usual I was unable to verbally communicate well and it came about that she concluded that I’m a wimp. Yes, I’m afraid of the pain, but I’m more afraid that I’d like it. That each time would be easier and easier until one day I just said fuck it all and let go. I found a razor last week when I was cleaning my room. I keep finding myself staring at it, fascinated. Same with knives, scissors, broken glass, anything that looks sharp. I fantasize about how it would feel to put it to my skin, pressing down and dragging it slowly through, watching myself bleed. I know it would hurt, but I somehow can’t help thinking I’d get off on the pain.

I think that’s where my obsession with piercings comes from. It feels so good. The anticipation, the quick sharp pain, the ache that follows, I get hot just thinking about it.

I’m not entirely certain when that kind of post turned into this kind of post. XD

Maybe will write more later. XD

My purple room.

2010-10-09T04:07:00.000-07:00

I don't want to move! I really like this purple room now that I've gotten some stuff in here. I hate that I always have to pick up and leave once I'm finally getting settled. Its not fair. For once I wanted to move when I was ready, have it be my decision. I can't say anything either. It doesn't feel like I'm allowed to want to stay and if she doesn't want me here, I don't want to be here anyway.

I'd write more, but I feel like crap. I can't stop coughing and it makes my head hurt really bad and I'm pretty sure I've got a fever and I'm exhausted. I kind of forgot I was sick and moved a bunch of furniture and junk. I'm kind of a dope sometimes.

2010-09-30T08:34:00.000-07:00

I can smile and laugh and you would never know I was bleeding to death on the inside.

My Labor Day Weekend & an incident

2010-09-09T04:39:00.001-07:00

I hate you! Geh! I just want to say what I want to fucking say dammit! DX (<--- ignore that, its in reference to other thoughts running round my head)

My mom got a bee up her butt the other day and wanted to switch rooms. So I would consolidate my two rooms into her one big bedroom and then she’d have a bedroom and a sewing room. I didn’t particularly want to since I was finally getting settled and I don’t do well with even small changes. Plus I’d already been really upset several times this month because of one thing or another and I really just didn’t want to have to deal with that again. Well, since she really wanted it I was like fine and we went and got paint and stuff. There was no way I was staying in a yellow room. Most of the house is yellow, I can’t stand it. Its not even a nice yellow. Anyway, I got a color picked out that I thought I would like. We were going to just wait and start on emptying her room the next day but if I was going to do it, I needed to start or it just wouldn’t happen. I have no patience and lose focus quickly.

I ended up mostly emptying the room, the only stuff I couldn’t get on my own was her furniture and she couldn’t (wouldn’t) help with that, so I had to wait for my dad to come help the next day. He helped me get all the furniture out and the room taped. So, I started painting that night, not very well & I was lonely so I kept losing focus and trying to find a way to feel less so. My main alone-ness killer has been mostly a dud lately, tweeps are busy & truthfully I haven’t been very into it in awhile because of this and that and mostly just one thing. Wasn’t getting much done and then I decided I hated the room that color. Was stressing myself out major about it too, I have a tendency to obsess and worry til I’m a wreck. My mom said it was cool if I wanted a different color, people change their minds all the time about that. Since I’m usually made fun of for changing my mind often, I guess I was expecting more ridicule than that. I went and picked out new colors which turned out great, but since I was going on my third night of very little sleep and was lonely again, I didn’t get it all done. I don’t know why, but painting a room by yourself at night really makes you notice there’s no one around. Not that there’s ever a whole lot of folks around but yeah, won’t go there.

Monday morning I woke my mom up and asked her to go get donuts and milk, I was hungry and I thought maybe that’d get me going enough to finish, I just had the edges left. When she got back I asked her to help me, she said after her coffee, I said fine. I really needed some help though, I was getting pretty stretched between the no-sleep, loneliness, stress, and just other little things. She was taking forever (of course), so I went and pestered her til she came back to help. She complained for five minutes straight and had been saying call your dad call your dad all morning, so I cracked and said fine, fucking call him then, but you have to be back here to run interference on his bitching cause I didn’t want to deal with it. I thought it was a bad idea and told her so, but as usual, she didn’t listen. Nobody ever listens to me.

She called and he said he’d be coming in like an hour so I decided to crawl into bed til he got here. I was half-asleep when I heard my pill bottles rattling behind me, when I turned over he was reading the labels. Hadn’t said hi or nothin’. I said hi dad, what are you doing? He said, can I have your painkillers. I said no & we argued for awhile, if he had just taken them and walked out I wouldn’t have stopped him, but he didn’t, he called me a bitch and stomped out leaving them behind. His doctors cut him off a couple months ago, so he’s really starting to crave them now.

I got up and went to help him paint but he was being an ass and saying all sorts of mean shit to me so I went and told my mom that she called him, she had to deal with him. I was getting to my limit and just wanted to go curl up in bed with the covers over my head and scream. I went into my room and shut the door. I heard my mom go into the other room and tried to get my dad to leave. He wouldn’t. They were arguing, I couldn’t really hear what they were saying but I could hear the tone of my dad’s voice and I didn’t know if I should call my brother or the police and either way, if he went for my mom, I wasn’t sure what I should do. I’d’ve tried to stop him, but even at 58 he’s still way stronger than me and he knows how to fight. He also doesn’t care if he gets hurt.

I heard my mom walk away and my dad go back into the room, I texted her cause I didn’t want to leave my room, she said to just stay in there, that he was refusing to leave until he was finished painting, that he only came cause he wanted my drugs, blah blah blah. I stayed in my room, in my bed, with my phone just in case. I was so relieved when he finally left. I was a complete mess, but at least he was gone. He freaked me out so bad. He can be so scary. I hate it. Its impossible to know what he’s going to do. I sometimes think he’d never be violent with us again, but he’s so unpredictable I can never be sure.

I just wanted to call my brother and have him be here and curl up against him and be safe and I couldn’t because I already rely on him too much. I should be able to deal with this on my own. Instead, I went into a coma-like state for about a day and a half. I don’t want to remember things. I, for the most part, remember almost nothing before we moved here, and I would prefer to keep it that way. Hearing him the other day through the walls, it was too much.

I have more to say, but I’m going to lose what little coherence I had so, going on to do something fun now. Huh, one of these days I should write a happy post.

2010-08-23T11:32:00.000-07:00

This is ridiculous. Going on three straight hours of crying. I really need to stop. Please stop. Please.

Feeling pain is not better than feeling nothing at all.

2010-08-23T05:48:00.000-07:00

I sometimes think life would be much better if I could cut my heart out and leave it in a dumpster.

Trauma imprint?

2010-08-13T04:15:00.000-07:00

I’ve been wondering if there is such a thing as a trauma imprint. I’ve been noticing that I get very upset at certain times for no clear reason, other than really horrible things have happened at those same times in the past. I hate that lately, I’ve been crying for no reason and today I finally identified what the strongest feeling was. Grief. I was crying and I felt like I was mourning the loss of something and when I was trying to find the correct word all I could think was ‘future’. I felt like I was mourning the loss of a future. Not to say I don’t have a future, but a future that might have been, a me that might have been, and a me that was lost when that future became impossible.
I don’t want to be carrying around these memories forever. I don’t want to dwell on things that have long since been done. Sometimes, if I write a thing down, then at least its not so overwhelming in my head and running along my senses. So, I started writing my memory of why this time of year is bad for me.

Five years ago in September I lost my home for the second time. It was almost as painful as the first time, but quite a bit less surprising. It was about time, I suppose, for everything to fall apart again. I’d say this time the start was a little over a year before, when my dad got himself a job at a car dealership.
My dad lost his job 10 years before that because he had a breakdown and began throwing computers around, he really can’t handle this whole work thing, but I digress. He was hired at a car dealership we always bought our cars from. Since he was so excited, we tried to be supportive and hoped for the best. Unfortunately, he wasn’t very good at selling cars and one of the other salesmen decided that he could degrade my father about it.
My dad is disabled by government standards, both physically and mentally (by mentally I mean mental health). This man chose to belittle my dad on both counts. My dad is a very proud man so he didn’t say anything to us, he just documented every abuse and tried to approach others at the company for help. When they wouldn’t and he was eventually fired for not bringing in enough business, he got himself an attorney and sued them for discrimination. He won of course.
He told me, only once, that he got home so late from the dealership because he didn’t want us to see him cry. So instead he drove around until he was done and then came home.
After that things just degenerated more and more. He started in with the pills again. Overdosing and all that. His doctor didn’t monitor him at all. He started hanging out with our neighbor, just recently my brother told me he (my dad) was getting high over there.
After a failed business venture with the neighbor and a subsequent falling out with him, my dad had to go elsewhere for his drugs. He started going to the casino a lot, mostly he just lost money. We were already pretty far in the hole, I had no idea how bad, my mom says she didn’t either, but I wonder, how could she not? I think she just didn’t want to know.
Over the next year everything got more tense, everyone got more stressed, then I’m not sure exactly when, but my dad and my brother decided to do this deal at the car dealership. My brother would buy my dad’s truck and my dad would buy a brand new pickup. The day I looked out my bedroom window to see them proudly pulling up, was when I knew it was just a matter of time before everything broke again.
It was my mom’s and her best friend’s 50th birthday that year. We were very busy with preparations, two big parties. Deb’s was at her house and my mom was having a sew day with our quilt ladies and couple days later. It was overwhelming, so stressful, so much to do, my dad was just all over the place. My mom was a wreck and deep in denial.
We managed to get through that, but a week later my dad woke me up when he was making a bunch of noise outside my room. When I went to see why, I found him stumbling down the hall, pissing on himself, trying to get to the bathroom. He was so high, he didn’t even realize where he was, who I was, or that he was urinating down his leg as he attempted to walk. My mom woke up too, told me to go back to my room, she’d clean it up. I was pretty shook up. I know that things like that happened a lot when I was a kid, but I don’t remember it. I don’t remember hardly anything from then.
A few days after that I went out to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a snack and found him laying down on the kitchen floor. I thought he was dead. I even shook him and yelled trying to find out. He just kept laying there, so I went to get my mom and as we were walking back into the kitchen we heard him start to snore. He was lucky he didn’t kill himself, he was cutting up meat and cheese when he passed out and fell over. He must’ve set the knife down to close his eyes for a minute and the timber! I guess that’s not funny. >.>
Another few days pass, my mom’s cell phone rings in the middle of the night, she can hear my dad talking, he doesn’t realize he called her. He’s making a drug deal. Then he notices the phone’s on and says hello. Several more incidents like this happen, then on an early afternoon in late August, I’m putzing around the house and I happen to glance out the front and see my brother talking to two men. Wondering why he didn’t come inside, I go out to see what’s up.
What was up was that these were two police officer’s here to keep an eye on our house while they waited for the search warrant to get there. I was informed that I could not re-enter my house, I didn’t realize they were lying, so I was forced to stand there in my pajamas for several hours while they casually questioned us. We called our mom, who dropped everything and ran out of work. My dad was being held at the police department and undergoing questioning.
I guess he’d been busted for trying to sell an undercover cop stolen property. He cracked when he was there, confessed to everything. The police searched our house, went through all our stuff, took the computer, the camera, all sorts of stolen property that was in our garage. My mom and I just thought he was going on buying sprees. We were suspicious, but not at all about that.
He was arrested, they found some stolen stuff in my brother’s house as well, threatened to arrest him too. When my mom and brother got back from bailing my dad out, my mom made us stand outside while she hollered at him. A completely useless endeavor. The next bit is blurry, but the next thing I clearly remember is sitting at my mom’s best friend’s house and her telling me that my brother got really drunk and tried to kill himself in the middle of the night.
I remember I was completely shocked, but that passed quickly, both of us had been suicidal for many years, I just couldn’t imagine him ever doing it. He was always too responsible. Next was such a wild swirl, anger that he’d been so stupid, sad that he’d wanted to die, helplessness that I was so useless, and betrayal that he’d die and leave me behind. If he died, it was only fair I got to go with him. I didn’t want to be all alone in this world.
That was the last of it really. I went home to get ready for work, I found my dad shut up in the garage just sitting there. I told him I hated him, that if my brother had died, I’d’ve killed him. I told him he should suffer. He said how, I said he should be whipped. (It’s a good thing I didn’t elaborate, he just recently told me that after I left, he used a chain to whip himself, my mom took him to the hospital for it).
I decided later that day that I couldn’t go to my brother anymore. I didn’t want to burden him with all my problems, so I wasn’t going to go to him to cry anymore.
My mom decided to leave him again because of what my brother did. She said once it involved her kids that was it blah blah blah. I thought, what a load of bullshit, it hadn’t involved us before? When he was smackin’ us around, or causing us to be in and out of women’s shelters, or when he kidnapped my brother and said if my mom didn’t come back to him, he’d kill him? Or when we lost our home the first time? When we were forced back into living with him? When everything we said and did revolved around not pissing him off, not disrupting the illusion of a happy, stable, loving family? I don’t like being an excuse to make her feel better about not having left years ago.
(Got sidetracked) My mom decided to leave and of course we were leaving that night. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t think I really had a choice but to go with my mom. I was 21 but couldn’t afford to live on my own and didn’t really have any options, it was either live with my mom or live with my dad and dad wasn’t really an option. So, I went with her to my aunt’s. At least this time I got to pack my own things when we moved. Which was accomplished in several days.

This is going to have to be continued some other time. I’m getting too sleepy to remember things. So, I will post this much and come back to it later.

Side note.

2010-07-09T17:13:00.001-07:00

I feel like such a geek! No one got my reference to a Xanth novel by Piers Anthony! >///<

Confused?

2010-07-09T05:45:00.001-07:00

I really dislike that I blame my mom for so much. Some of it I don't really blame her for & its not that I think its her fault but she has all the power & I have none. So its difficult & I can't seem to convey that to her. So now she's being passive-aggressively angry with me & I'm left with no way to do anything about anything cause everything I say gets twisted & used to make me feel guilty & worthless. I'm so sad & mad at her all the time. And I hate that she doesn't acknowledge her part in my having to be raised in an abusive home. She does it in a I'm-a-horrible-person-burn-me-at-the-stake-angry-feel-sorry-for-me-fed-up-tone & that's not taking responsibility. How can I learn to be responsible for the things I say/don’t say do/don’t do, if she won't? My dad doesn't either. But I expect more from my mom cause she's capable of it. Which I guess may be unfair but its my feelings so that's that.

I want to set the goal of getting everything situated over the next few days but I feel like I can't do it with my mom here and/or knowing. I know its irrational & I'm not even entirely certain of the why but aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!

I feel like I'm always running in circles in my mind & I never know the why of things or the how what where when & its so confusing & jumbled & frustrating & I want it to be all straight & clear but I don't know how! Or where to begin. I want a therapist who can help fix me but where are they? How do I find one? Help me help me help me help me help help help! What do I do? I don't know! I don't understand how to function. How to do things. How to be capable. I never have. I'm needy. I'm insecure. I have problems. I can't speak the important things that need saying. I lie to myself. I lie to everyone. I hate myself. I love myself. Why am I this way? Why wasn't I that way? What should I do?

I want so much but I'm terrified. Can I get a little help? Can I please not feel guilty or obligated for asking and/or receiving? I feel so lost.

2010-06-28T16:15:00.001-07:00

Thought I was going to have too much to do today. I was worried about having a panic attack. Turns out there was no need to worry. Nobody cares. Why do I always expect something different?

Some thoughts and a memory.

2010-06-25T01:30:00.001-07:00

I can’t think straight. Everything’s jumbled and jagged, swirling round and round, cutting up my thoughts, making everything so confusing, my brain feels like it’s burning up, I can’t think. I want to make it stop. I just want it to stop. I want everything to run in the right directions, I want to remember what day it is, I want to know what I’m doing, saying, thinking, feeling. It’s all just so everywhere, scattered, running too fast, I can’t stop it. So many thoughts. What am I doing? What am I saying? Who is this person? Where did I go? Or is this me and that other me was the fake? How do I know? Would anyone know?

It’s so quiet here all the time. Always empty. Just me. All alone, all the time. I don’t want to go to sleep. I don’t want to be alone. I’m terrified and I don’t know why. I know if I sleep, I’ll wake up and feel better. Well, usually, but I’m still so scared. Why is it so scary? I hate being alone all the time, but I hate when there are other people here too. I feel like I’m suffocating, like I’m drowning. If I opened a vein, would this feeling eventually drain out with my blood? What would it take to make this go away? These feelings that make me feel like there’s a hole in my chest sucking out everything and leaving only emptiness and pain? Can that be cut out?

I don’t want to be me so much, but I don’t want to be anybody else either. I just want to work. To have everything function normally. I’m so tired of feeling like such a freak. I know that a lot of things I do are not normal, but I hate feeling like they’re abnormal. I hate feeling like I’m abnormal.

I don’t even know what I’m saying and I’m crying again. I hate crying, hate it hate it hate it. I remember once, when I was very young, maybe three or four, my dad spanked me with a wooden spoon and broke it on my ass, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of making me cry. I gained some sort of grudging respect from him that day. He always went after my brother more after that and I’ve always thought it was because my brother would cry. Had to toughen him up. Crying is weak.

I think I need to be done with this now.

2010-06-25T00:10:00.001-07:00

I’m not sad. I’m not lonely.

2010-06-24T18:12:00.001-07:00

You’re being stupid…

I’m always being stupid, so what else is new?

A question.

2010-06-24T08:44:00.000-07:00

I've always wondered, why does the devil appear when I don't believe in god? And since I don't believe in god, does saying "I repudiate you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost" actually work to make him go away?

Sugar high? cracked out writing.

2010-06-12T22:55:00.001-07:00

I don’t know what to write about. So I’ll just write random shit. Which I guess is not at all different from what I normally do. Listening to Flyleaf. Good band. Like the singer’s voice. I need to type faster. Even typing my fastest I still have trouble keeping up with my brain. Not good for my future. Not that my future looks good anyway. Hahaha?
Crack is back folks. I have no idea….

The world is full of interesting people wouldn’t you say? I wouldn’t say but that doesn’t mean jack. Type type type! ‘sup with that yo?
Can’t think. Maybe should turn off the music but I likes the music. Maybe should type with my eyes closed. That sometimes helps. Don’t know why. Maybe cause I’m crazy is as crazy does. Laughing by myself at myself makes me feel a little psychotic. But hey, leastways I’m never bored.

Some of what’s been going on in my head

2010-06-09T02:25:00.001-07:00

I was fighting a rotten mood for most of today and then it finally got to the point where I wanted to tell anyone who looked at me to fuck off and die. Ever since the weekend before I had club here, so about two and a half weeks ago, I’ve been fighting feeling anti-social and nervous/anxious. Also, wanting to inflict pain on myself.

I’ve been pretty out-of-control even for me these past two weeks. Barely sleeping, not eating, losing track of the days, all typical manic behavior, but it hasn’t been this severe for a long time. My brain’s been on super overdrive and its impossible to shut off.

I’m starting to feel like my brain is unraveling around the edges, and my nerves are all raw and frayed. I hate it. My thoughts just swirl round and round and then bounce and racket around and I just want to scream. I can feel the crash coming and can’t do anything about it. Black despair is just waiting to swallow me again. Its terrifying and so painful and I just want to cut my heart out so it doesn’t hurt anymore.

I kept telling my therapist that I didn’t want to think about reality, that I didn’t think I could handle it if things just fell apart again. She said so I just wanted to live in this numbness forever. Yes, I do. Why in hell would I want to live in reality when its like this for me? That’s crazy.

I was doing alright for a long time. I wasn’t exactly bursting with happiness all the time, but I also wasn’t wanting to slit my fucking throat everyday.

My mom tells me she feels like a failure because she can’t fix me. My dad says that him and I are broken. I hate it. I don’t feel broken, I don’t like feeling like I’m some thing that needs fixing so that my mom can feel better about herself.

I hate this, I can’t even think. My brain feels slow and jumbled up, I just want it to work.

I had to go over to my dad’s tonight to walk the dog because my dad was “sick”. You stupid fucking asshole, I know you just overdosed on something and that’s why you’re vomiting up you intestines. I’m not stupid. You think I don’t recognize the signs after 27 fucking years? I hate that he’s an addict. I hate that he jokes about it most of the time and lies about it when it matters. I hate that my dog and cat get neglected because of it.

What I really hate is when he says he thinks I should take up drugs and drinking cause maybe I’d be more fun. I really hate when people say stupid thoughtless things about drug use around me and when they say things like “you’re missing out” when I say I don’t drink alcohol. I do those things for very good reasons and I don’t like that people are flippant about them.

I will never think drug use is cool or something fun to do. I tolerate drinking, but I won’t go to bars or parties or things where its going on because it makes me very uncomfortable. My friend gives me condescending credit for having the guts not to, but then she goes on and on about her illicit activities and I’m just like are you a bonehead? You know how much I hate it and yet you brag about it to me?

Then the other day she said some comment like the only reason I don’t drink or do drugs is because I’m afraid to, like that was narrow-minded(?) and cowardly of me. Its not like I’m making an uninformed opinion and yeah, I am a little afraid of doing them cause I know I have an addictive personality and so far I’ve taken after my dad in almost every other personality trait. I’m not stupid, and I have enough problems without being a fucking addict as well. I really just want to tell her to shove it up her moronic ass sometimes.

Me not telling her that is being a coward. Me not wanting to start a fight and so holding my tongue is cowardly, not declining in participating in a potentially devastating activity.

Why do people always want me to be different? My mom and dad want me to socialize. Well, since I have a panic disorder with agoraphobia that’s kind of complicated. So, I start a twitter account and actually talk to people and have a really good time. Well, apparently that isn’t “real” socializing and so they make fun of me all the time for it. My mom more than my dad. My brother just thinks its great that I’m having fun and laughing a lot.

Its been great. Being social on twitter actually makes me feel like I can be social other places too. Just 8(?) months ago, I was having panic attacks three or four times a day at the thought of having to leave the house. I’m still having a hard time with crowds of more than like 3 (not including me), but its gotten so much better.

Yet, its not good enough. I’m supposed to be going to therapy and I’m not even entirely sure what exactly it is that my family thinks it is that constitutes me being “well”. Its almost as if they think there’s some trick to it. I have bipolar disorder. Yes, some people live successful lives, but some people don’t. I don’t want to feel like I’m failing everyone when I can’t do something. Its not my fault. I do not have control over all my thoughts, feelings and actions. As it is, when I’m too manic I stutter and repeat sentences six or seven times, and get stuck on a certain word. Or I start talking about one thing and go in all different directions before all of a sudden making my point and it all makes sense to me, but I might as well have been speaking gibberish for the heads and tails they make of it.

I sometimes think if I didn’t feel so much guilt all the time I’d do about 50% better. I’m so sick of being the one at fault. The screw-up. The disappointment. The failure. I’m tired of being dismissed and having everything I do/think/say chalked up to me being manic/depressed/pissy/crazy/whatever. Its like my family thinks my entire personality will change once I get stable.

Do they dislike me that much? Or is it that they just don’t want to deal with me anymore? Of course if I ever say anything, “oh I don’t think they meant it like that”. Whether they meant it like that or not how I felt in reaction to it matters. What I feel matters. What I think matters. If it doesn’t, what does it matter if I’m here?

I think that’s enough for one night. I’m going to go watch a silly cartoon movie with singing and dancing and cheesey lines.

One bad phone conversation, one good one

2010-06-07T11:45:00.001-07:00

I’m never entirely sure if its alright for me to complain about DSHS and SSI and all that on here, like, can they use it against me somehow? But that’s probably just my paranoia (I hope).

I got a letter in the mail about a month ago saying I was medically approved for SSI, but that I needed to update my application in order to activate my benefits. The letter gave me a name and a number to call and so I tried and tried and tried. I know I left at least 4 messages, and called about 10 times without leaving a message. I never received a phone call back.

Since it said to call by June 10th and I didn’t want to be faulted for not getting a hold of anyone, this morning I just said screw it and after getting the ladie’s answering machine for the umpteenth time, I called the 800 number. When I explained to the woman who answered why I was calling she very rudely said I should be calling the number I was given. When I explained that I had and that I had left several messages and received no call back, she put me on hold and called the woman herself. Who of course answered.

Then she got back on the line with me and said I had only left one message, in a very accusatory voice, and it felt like she said you’re a liar. I was getting so upset at this point. Its already really difficult to call and deal with any of these people, none of them are overly friendly or overly helpful and almost seem to go out of their way to try to not give you help. Also, I have a panic disorder and this just exacerbates that.

She informed me that in order to start receiving benefits I needed to have a payee and if I had someone then I could come in on Thursday with that person and get it all set up and explained and all that. I said yes, I did have someone who would do it and took the appt. I hadn’t wanted to ask my brother to do something like that cause he’s already got his hands full between his own life, my dad, and me when I can’t find someone else.

I was so upset I caved and called him at work, I was trying really hard not to cry but as soon as he answered that phone, I burst into tears and didn’t stop for ten minutes. He’s such a good brother, he didn’t get mad at me for calling him at work, or for calling him at work when I was upset, he talked to me until I was calm, said he’d do that thing for me, he’d rearrange his schedule, make it work, told me he loved me, that I could always call him, that I could always ask him for anything, was there anything I needed, did I want him to come over after work, etc etc etc. Best brother in the whole world.

By the time I was done talking to him I was mostly calmed down. I rely on him too much. I’ve been trying really hard not to, but he’s the only one that makes me feel safe.

Hopefully that stuff at SSI will go well.

Just something silly I did for the quilt ladies

2010-06-06T23:30:00.001-07:00

A Fairy Tale Afternoon
(or something like that)

As tradition dictates, so shall we begin. Once upon a time (a couple weeks ago), in a far away land (not so far), there was a young lady (yo, that’s me, not so much of a lady though) who was about to set out on a perilous journey (”perilous journey”= car trip with hinky directions).

    Our young lady began this day like any other; cheerful (grumpy), willingly (unwilling to get out of bed while the sun shone), and of course, right on schedule (actually, very behind a nonexistent schedule). As her enthusiasm increased, so did her energy and she practically leapt from her bed in her eagerness to start the day (in actuality, she begrudgingly forced herself out of bed and decided to get her ass in gear or she’d really be pissed at herself).
    Preparations for that afternoon’s party took her no time at all, being a naturally stunning beauty (no comment) and she was soon underway (ha!) in her carriage (car). The amount of travelers on the road this day was astonishing! (Aggravating!) She decided it would be best to take a round about way and in so doing save herself many headaches (NOT). She eventually came to the point where she was unsure of where to continue, fortunately, her fairly good mother, oops!!! Ahem, fairy godmother, had provided her with written instructions about how to find the lakeside paradise.
    After making a mental note to get directions from someone else next time, our brave adventurer diligently followed the instructions (while wondering if she should’ve brought emergency rations for when she got lost following said instructions). The path to paradise was long and twisty, forest surrounded our lady on all sides. As the road went on (and on and on and on), she had much time to enjoy the beauty of the scenery (and rock out to her iPod).
    Arriving at last at the Eagle’s Crest (not its actual name, but we’ll go with it), she rejoiced in her accomplishment (it was more like relief that she didn’t get lost in the wilderness). Making her grand entrance into the villa, she was greeted warmly by her Ladies.
    Our young lady was thrilled to meet Cody, Lady Deb’s new Alaskan Malamute/Golden Labrador mix. I feel I must inser that it has been decided that young Cody is the second cutest dog on the planet (Baby is, of course, first, forever). It was quite amusing to watch Lady Deb play with her puppy (it was really frickin’ funny to watch Deb fall on her butt in the water when the giant puppy knocked her over, and I’ve been kicking myself that I hadn’t thought to start recording before that happened!).
    The merry-making continued with a feast, displays of talent (looking at quilt projects), talking, and finally, dock time (kicking my feet in the water at the end of the dock, singing too loud to music only I could hear, debating stripping and jumping in, I should just have GEEK tattooed on my forehead J).
    With evening closing in, our young lady began her journey home, the return was uneventful and she soon found herself home safe.
    And so again, as tradition dictates, we end this with:
Th-th-th-that’s all folks!!!

Or maybe its:

Ya’ll come back now y’hear?!

“And so they lived happily ever after” just doesn’t work here.

P.S. It should’ve been longer but its now five am and I’m tired. And in all honesty, I got bored with the story half way through. I don’t think I should get bored with my own stories. Oh, well.

A home, a friend, and a pink flamingo

2010-06-04T10:05:00.001-07:00

I had such a good time with my friend last night. Which doesn’t happen often lately, I think I’ve maybe been indulging in too much self-pity lately, and not giving her enough credit, but we’ve always had a rocky affair so who knows.

Her parents house is being foreclosed on, which really sucks. It was one of my last homes that has been a constant in my life. I mean, the place really wasn’t the same since her mom died, but it still felt like home, just from the familiarity. The same decorations as had always been there since I met her. Furniture still in the same places (mostly), although both more and less clean than it had been. I know, more dirty but less messy.

I loved the disorganized chaos of when my friend’s mom was alive. I loved that woman so much. She was totally my second mom. I even called her mom. I can close my eyes and she’s right there. Its been 2 &1/2 years and she hasn’t faded at all. She was a really awesome person. My friend is a lot like her.

We went over there to go through things and decide what to keep/what to sell/what to toss. Or start anyway. They have a whole houseful of five different lives. With her dad sick and her sisters out of the country for who knows how long, its kind of all on my friend. I can help, since I know the house and stuff, but it only goes so far.

It was fun looking at her old report cards and reading her old essays and seeing her old artwork. I remembered some of it from when she did it in high school. I loved that the song lyrics she had been writing on the floor the first time I went to her house were still there. And the pink flamingo.

We were there for a couple hours, and then we went to get a snack and came to my house to eat it, since I just live up the hill from her parent’s place. While we were here, she found all the guys she’s been seeing on facebook so I finally got to see what they all look like. Most weren’t really my taste (not surprising) but a couple of them weren’t half bad. I tried on my new clothes for her and we had chips and salsa. I also showed off my giant stack of new books and the pictures I’d finally got put into frames.

We weren’t here for too long before we headed back to her dad’s place, where she volunteered me to talk to her dad about applying for Social Security Disablility or SSI and stuff. That was a little uncomfortable, but at least maybe he’ll go and do it now. He certainly needs to.

Well, we finally got out of there and headed to Seattle where my friend lives. I did most of the talking in the car, she was a little burnt out. Our dad’s are hard to deal with.

When we got to her place, I was just planning on helping her carry stuff in and then going on my merry way but we ended up talking some more, and then she gave me a fashion show (really adorable yellow dress, I am so jealous!), which led to us talking about what we wore in high school. Which of course led to another fashion show, of clothes she used to wear in high school, which look very different on her.

She was wondering if she could go bra-less in her new dress, wasn’t the right material, but she said she’s having a hard time finding a bra that doesn’t show with it on, and I said, just find a cute bra and let it peek out. Which I used to do all the time in high school and still do sometimes ‘cause it looks cute. Like if you have a little bit of the lace showing, hot. So then of course I said I was kind of a slut wasn’t I? And she assured me no, I wasn’t a slut, I just dressed a little slutty. More so in high school than now. But hey, I got a lot of free and discounted shit back in the day!

We then began to discuss how we were jealous of girls with small boobs, my friend because for one reason they seem to look more slender, she had other reasons too but I don’t remember. I just have a hard time making my boobs fit in the booby spots on shirts, its really frustrating when you find a cute shirt and can’t wear it cause of that. Also, ever since around the 6th grade, I’ve been afraid of running for fear my boobs going to bounce up and whack me in the face. XD

We were just all over the place in our conversations last night. It was wonderful, we used to talk like that all the time and now its just mostly she talks I listen and yada yada yada.

We also talked about how bizarrely similar our families and our lives growing up are/were. Her dad was a drug addict many years ago, my dad is a current drug addict (and supposedly proud of the fact that he didn’t puss out like so many other addicts and stuck with it). Her dad is an abusive, controlling, manipulative jackass; my dad is an abusive, controlling, manipulative jackass (although he’s been slightly better lately, which is usually a sign of that the my world is gonna go to shit again).

There were obviously some differences. My friend once said that what happened to me was the extreme version of what went on in her home. Its always amazing to me just how violent my home was. I forget that other people’s home lives were not like that. Not surprising since I didn’t even really realize it until I was like 15.

She can be so great. Telling me that its okay to dwell on the past and want to talk about those things cause they were never talked about and they were never resolved and I’m paying for it now. That I don’t need to feel guilty and I’m not obligated to be grateful, that I’m allowed to be angry…

It was so nice, not to be dismissed or shrugged aside. My feelings weren’t chalked up to me letting my imagination run away or being overly-emotional. It was nice to have the things I thought and felt have value and weight.

Then she told me I was one of the best supporters she’s ever had, and that I’m awesome and she loves me and it was so nice.

I’m very tired now. I drove the long way home so I could look at the pretty water while it was still before the sun came up, and then I spent much too long on twitter and formspring. I meant, and then I spent much too long having way too much fun on twitter and formspring. XD I think I can squeeze in an hour nap before my kitty needs her brazilian so it off to bed for me, hopefully I’ll actually make it.

P.S. She also showed me her really cool closet fort that I’m totally envious of. If I’m ambitious later I’ll post the pics I took.

Confession

2010-05-30T07:46:00.001-07:00

I have a sick addiction. Its called “internet”.

A story.

2010-05-27T02:54:00.001-07:00

(Listening to “with reflection” by Kokia)

Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood in the Midwest. One evening she was outside with her friend Rachel and they were listening to her new La Bouche CD and having a contest to see if they could jump up and down through an entire song. (Which of course they both could, ah young legs!). The girl’s dad came out in his sleep shorts and socks with the stipes pulled all the way up and his slippers, slightly unsteady on his feet and slurring his words he said he’d be back later.

As the girl watched him walk to his truck she felt a sense of dread. He was obviously high and her mom was out. Not that her mom could’ve done anything. Saying goodbye to her friend she gathered up her stereo and went inside. The rest of the night is a blur and the next clear part is the morning after when her mother is shaking her awake.

Since its bizarrely early (8 am in summertime) the girl can only wonder at the oddness. Her mom says that daddy had an accident, that he’s okay, but that they’re leaving and the girl needs to get dressed and pack some stuff to play with for a long car ride. Confused, she packs a small backpack. Her mom says to make sure to take her favorite doll and blanket. Then she says to go wait in the car.

Going out to the car, its another blistering hot day. The heat comes in waves off the cement, a lawn mower buzzes in the background and the smell of fresh cut grass and sunshine is strong in the air. Getting into the backseat for once without a fuss, the girl waits, terrified and not sure why. Her older brother comes out and goes around the car to get in the backseat with her.

Asking him what’s going on, he says that they’re leaving dad. Still not really understanding, she waits for her mother, who comes out a short time later with one large suitcase. Getting in the driver’s seat, she says they’d better go say goodbye to daddy if they want. He’s standing on the back stairs, her brother gets out and goes and hugs him. For some reason, she doesn’t.

As they’re backing out of the driveway, he smiles and waves, like they’re going on vacation and they’ll see him later. That night, the girl’s mother says they’re leaving, moving to another state, and never coming back. And that, right there, was the first time her whole world collapsed and broke her into a million pieces.

Blogging

2010-05-27T02:50:00.001-07:00

Um, so I was going to blog but I’m not sure what exactly to blog about…does that mean I fail? Probably. I fail at life, so I suppose I fail at blogging too. Can I be a pessimist for a few? Oh, right, my blog, I can do whatever I want! (Including talk to myself!) Yeah. This is what happens when a certain someone goes to bed instead of staying up and talking to me on twitter. I won’t name who, but they know. *Sending more bxb dream waves*.

Right, pessimistic. Although, is it really pessimism when everything before in life has taught you that this happens? Isn’t that more like learning from experience? Realism?

So, things have been pretty good, I’m even being social. And finishing unpacking and junk. Shit, I even hosted quilt club without my mom here! I’m even starting to think that I can do stuff (<—dangerous thinking) like have a life. You know, its really probably just because I’m going manic. Give me a few more weeks to a couple months and I’ll want to slit my throat again.

I mean it took me this long to feel like it’d be okay to unpack and that I might actually be able to stay in one place for a while and half get over the fear that as soon as I was settled something terrible would happen and I’d have to pack up and move again. I still think that as soon as I hang my pictures and my mom and I get everything situated, the church will kick us out because really, that’s how my life is.

Things have been going good lately, so of course I have this horrible feeling of impending doom. I got approved for SSI, I’ve been talking to people online and I’ve started talking to my family more again (not just at family events, like on the phone and stuff), my dad has been pretty stable (the biggest worry), I’ve been wanting to go out and do stuff and haven’t been having as many of the paralyzing panic attacks, but that could really just be because I’m getting manic.

I hate bipolar disorder. It really really sucks. I like to think I’m getting better and then it just turns out I’m entering my madness. Maybe I’ll luck out and not go all the way crazy this time. I don’t really want to tell my doctor though ‘cause she’ll just drug me into a zombie-like vegetable and then jack didley will get done.

At least if I’m manic I’ll do stuff. It might be stuff like spend 14 hours rearranging the pictures on my cork board, but at least its something. (I already sound like a crazy person).

Last year when this happened and it was really bad I got tons of shit done in that 80-odd hours I didn’t sleep before I crashed.

I feel like I had a point somewhere around the beginning of this and somehow somewhere got sidetracked. Not sure what the point was or where it went sideways though…

Game over.

Would you like to start over? Yes? No?

Maybe???

Who cares if I make sense? I don’t think I have in any previous posts.

My dad and my therapist tell me its not good to dwell on the past but for the most part I don’t think I dwell, I mean, I only think about some things like once a month and the other, the really bad stuff, only like every three months, which is way better than ten years ago when I thought about the really bad stuff almost everyday. Of course, it was a lot fresher then.

Its not like I’m allowed to talk to anyone in my family about the really bad stuff anyway. Even right after it happened, we never ever talked about it. I used to berate myself for not being able to deal and then one day I was like, oh yeah, I was a kid. I was just a kid. Of course I couldn’t deal. Of course it screwed me up. Of course its still a problem. Hello, post-traumatic stress disorder! lol. That’s probably not actually funny.

When we left my dad I was only a year older than my oldest nephew is now. If I think of him as just a kid, why would I think of myself as old enough to handle it when I was the same age? That’s crazy.

At least that day is starting to fade a little. It used to be so crystal clear I could even smell the sun on cement and fresh cut grass for many years after.

If I can’t talk to my family can I just put it out into the ether? Is that cathartic? For other things it sometimes helps. Just vomiting all the horrible thoughts out onto the computer helps. At least then they don’t keep spinning around and around inside my head making me want to do even crazier things.

Maybe its better to just keep not thinking about it, not talking about it. If I just do that long enough will it eventually be like none of it ever happened?

I always feel like such a loser since things weren’t really all that horrible. At least that’s what my mom says. I don’t remember most of my childhood. The things I do remember, my mom says I remember wrong.

Jangling all along my nerve endings. Hyperactive attention.

The typing bug got in my blood. Where I just type stuff so I can keep typing. I find typing very soothing. I enjoyed my keyboarding class in high school. I thought it was fun. Probably the only person who did.

Okay, going to post something else right after I post this.

A word on online socializing and a few news blurbs about my family.

2010-05-22T10:31:00.001-07:00

I have decided to indulge my love of socializing online and now have all sorts of sites to play on, yay! My friend validated that socializing online does count as “real” socializing, for which I’m very grateful since mostly I get, “you need to talk to real people, blah blah blah”. Way to make me feel like a loser while trying to be helpful!

Last night I talked to my mom on the phone for like two hours. I couldn’t believe it. When my mom is home I barely say ten words to her, but since she’s been up in Alaska, I’ve talked to her almost every day for at least half an hour. What’s really silly is that I’m sure when she comes back I’ll be talkative and friendly for a day and then go back to being a mute. I guess distance makes my verbal diarrhea act up.

My dad’s been abnormally considerate too. He even told me I was a good kid! That is one of very few compliments I’ve ever gotten from him. He’s also being kind of melancholy, which worries me, since he’s so extreme when he loses it.

Strangest of all is my brother has had some crappy ass luck since my mom went up to Alaska. I was worried that since I’ve been having good luck just as long as his bad luck, that we were cursed with some sort of he has good luck = me having bad luck and vice versa, but when I told him my theory he said we should blame it on mom. It all started the weekend she went to Alaska. Lets hope it dissipates so my brother has his luck back. He’s always been very lucky so this must be really hard on him. Besides, all these good things happening to me are kinda freakin’ me out.

Oh, look cute kitty.

A joke my pal texted me

2010-05-21T20:36:00.001-07:00

THE WEDDING TEST I was a very happy man. My wonderful girlfriend and I had been dating for over a year and so we decided to get married. There was only one little thing bothering me...it was her beautiful younger sister. My prospective sister-in-law was 22, wore very tight miniskirts, and generally was bra-less. One day her 'little' sister called and asked me to come over to check wedding invitations. She was alone when I arrived and she whispered to me that she had feelings and desires for me that she couldn't overcome. She told me she wanted me just once before I got married and commited my life to her sister. She asked me to meet her upstairs in her bedroom for one last fling. I was stunned watching her walk up the stairs. I made a beeline straight to the front door and headed straight to my car! Low and behold all my fiance's family were standing outside clapping, proud that I had passed their test. The moral of the story..... Always keep your condoms in the car
4ALLGOOD

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Riki-tiki-tumbo-no-sar-rumbo-charry-barry-ruchi-pip-perri-pembo

2010-04-30T00:32:00.000-07:00

Was a book I read a lot as a child. For some reason the title has stayed with me for years. I think a kid falls in a well and almost drowns 'cause his name is too long, whats the lesson there? Nicknames are good? *shrugs* Whatever, its just been stuck in my head lately.

I was going to type up the blog(?) I'd been working on, about required career counseling prior graduating high school, preferably some type in junior high and some type prior to senior year, but since its kinda long and not quite done, it can wait.

What else do I have to say? Ah.

My cousin found a cat at her apartment complex that she thought had been abandoned and she suckered my mom into getting us to take her. My mom is not a big cat person and we already have 3, so talking her into it should've been harder than "Auntie, the poor kitty...please take her *said with much patheticness I'm sure*". "Of course, honey!". Then a text to me: new cat today. Huh? I was like, a stuffed cat? Candy shaped like a cat? Some strange joke I just don't get???

Nope. Real cat, coming to live with us. As much as I love and adore cats and would never want to leave one without a home, it was not the amount of stress I needed right now. Especially since I already have a "problem" child (my youngest kitty likes to pee on my stuff when she's stressed, hello here's a new sister for you! DX). Well, the new girl does not get along with other cats at all. Its awful, its been almost a week and she still hisses, spits, and goes crazy if she even thinks she saw another cat. We have to keep her separated and I'm having a hard time dividing up my attention between the 4 of them. I was having a difficult time when it was just the 3 of them.

To make things worse, I think the stress was just enough to push me over so I caught a cold and now have felt like crap since Sunday. Also, my supposed best friend couldn't even take the time to help me work out some of the worry. We spent an hour chatting about her and then when there was finally a lull, I went against my grain and just blurted out the whole mess (we were talking via google chat) she said "don't worry about it too much. sleepy now..." and went to bed.

I'll explain what I meant by against my grain. For some reason, I have always felt rude just talking about myself. Like, just saying I'm sad, or happy, or fine, without being asked "how are you". Same with what I've been doing, etc. So, it took a lot for me to just come out and spill it all on the table. Especially since we hardly ever talk about me. Our phone conversations are usually an hour of talking about her and her life and usually, if I start to talk about myself, she suddenly is tired or doesn't want to be on the phone anymore and goes. So, despite my gigantic fear of being let-down yet again, I said something, and of course, had hope that things might be different this time, but true to form, nothing. I got nothing. That just added to my crappy, overwhelmed feeling.

Now I have this poor cat, that I have no idea what to do with. She's really sweet and I want to like her, but she's stressin' me out and all I want to do is cuddle with my babies and pretend the outside world does not exist. Tomorrow I'm taking her to the vet to get checked out and find out if she's been microchipped. Cross your fingers that she has and her owners got it registered, otherwise I need to find her a new home. Someone who has no other pets and preferably lots of attention to give.

Darn. Now I'm irritated with my friend all over again. This happens so often, I really do love her, but she's just so damned oblivious. She truly believes that she's this extremely thoughtful person who is always there and "understanding of *her* friends on so many levels" (her words, not mine). I feel like a bitch. Ugh, I wish I could just let it go, or better, say something, but I'm always afraid of the consequences. The few times I've ever said anything to her have been disastrous and resulted in excruciating inner pain for myself, so I really don't want to go there.

My therapist, last time I was there, said to me that if I didn't stand up for myself to one person who hurt my feelings before our next appt she'd have to switch me to another therapist because she's obviously not what I need. All I could think was, so I'm going to be punished for not being able to do something that was beaten out of me every day of my life practically since birth? I've been seeing her since Nov and maybe had 6(?) sessions, so I guess I didn't think it was time to throw in the towel quite yet. Its pretty bad when someone you've only seen 6 times thinks you're hopeless.

She gives me these weird looks all the time. Is it really that strange that I'd rather be hurt than someone else? I'd rather have bad things happen to me than someone else. I'd rather be uncomfortable than someone else. I'd rather suffer than someone else. I'd rather be upset than someone else. I'd rather not be loved than someone else. Is that really so horrible?

She keeps asking me if I think I deserve to be loved. Exactly how in the heck should I answer that?! No. No, I don't think I deserve to have people love me. The people that do love me, I don't understand why and I feel extremely lucky that they do and am always afraid (and expect) that they'll stop.

*sigh* Maybe I do need another therapist. I don't know, I guess the therapist would know better. ARGH!!! No more of this. This is why my blog is depressing, and probably confusing too.

So, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...I know! I got Saiyuki the complete collection on Borders.com with a coupon for only $28!!! Woohoo! The voice acting is terrible from the few episodes I've seen, but since I adore Saiyuki I don't care!!! Also I get paid on the 1st, so I can go buy some frames to put the art I got from Sakura Con up!!! Also, found some really good deals on some yaoi manga on eBay that I'm going to ask my brother to bid on for me. Was also thinking about what to get from Best Buy since my brother gave me his Best Buy bucks.

My brother is the best hands down yo.

My mom is going to be up in Alaska from May to the end of June, so I'll have the whole house to myself. Which is not actually all that thrilling. Since this house creeps me out. Its old and creaky and I swear I can always hear a radio playing, drafty, right next to a church...and it doesn't help that I had one of my devil nightmares the other morning. I've had three of them. I don't quite remember the first, but the second he appeared as a little boy, and the third as an old man who sat calmly on the end of my bed. The other morning was really scary, he reminded me of my dad when I was little, only with a demon's face, it horrifying. I was so scared I could barely breathe, it was so hard to gather my voice and repudiate him. Probably shouldn't talk about it, don't want to bring it back. Where's some wood...

Totally woke up my cat knockin' on my nightstand. Well, I think that's all for now folks. Going to go read some manga online or maybe run over to Walgreen's for some peanut M&Ms.

Depression hurts

2010-04-15T03:14:00.001-07:00

Especially when nobody seems to notice.

Or care.

I wonder, will the next fifty or sixty years be like this? And if they are, would a God who's supposedly so forgiving, really not forgive me that sin?
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Sick.

2010-04-13T17:12:00.000-07:00

And lonely and being ignored by my family.
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A comment on Hell Girl

2010-04-12T01:53:00.001-07:00

Since I love Hell Girl thought I'd post the comments I made on it in a group tonight.

On goodreads:

I love Hell Girl. I've only watched the anime (and that only to like episode 20 or there-abouts), but I think its awesome. I think the art is beautiful and I love the stories. I really liked episode 13, about the man who had sent someone to Hell 50-odd years ago and now since he was dying it was time for Ai to come get him. I love Hone Onna and the times when you can see the bones just under her flesh.

And also:

Miss wrote: "Ok does anyone knows of a manga that has a girl with big red eyes and can kill for you but you have to give you life for it."

Not your life, your soul. You can contact Hell Girl (Ai Enma) via a website that only appears at midnight and type in the person's name that you want to die. Then if Ai accepts your request she comes to give you a straw effigy with a string tied to it. In exchange for killing that person (dragging their soul to Hell where they'll suffer for eternity) you also damn your own soul(and will suffer for eternity). But, you get to finish your natural life first. Justice and equality at its best, right? I really like that there are consequences for the things they choose to do.

Plus, it has so many pretty things^^ Like Ai's kimono with the moving flowers and the music and well, I might need go watch it now...

-----

"O’ pitiful shadow lost in the darkness, bringing torment and pain to others, o’ damned soul wallowing in your sin, perhaps it is time to die.

This is vengeance, so I am to ferry you to Hell."

I love Ai's voice in the anime, especially when she says this, she makes everything sound so pretty. (Even the really terrible things)

I just ate like 1/2 a bag of cadbury mini eggs

2010-04-05T15:06:00.001-07:00

Don't know why I'm craving chocolate so bad this morning/afternoon. I feel like a pig though so I'm going to go put them out of reach.

So I decided to go on a Starbucks World Tour. Wanna join me? We'll hit every Starbucks in every country. I figure it'll take about five years. You up for it?

*an afternoon email to a friend*
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Is it still day-dreaming of its done at night?

2010-04-04T21:14:00.001-07:00

I'm not sleeping. I got my bed all ready so I can lay here with my eyes closed and have a good dream. Although I always get stuck on the little bits and take too long to work them out. I think reality sucks and really why do I need to live there? In reality I have a mood disorder where if I'm not trapped in my madness, I'm wanting to kill myself, I'm too terrified to leave my house, can barely speak to half the population (the male half), worry & feel guilty to the point of paralysis, and I have zero self-esteem. And in reality according to my drs most of it I will be dealing with my whole life. Why would I want to live there again? I got off topic but whatev. Gonna close my eyes.
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This could be fun.

2010-04-04T20:22:00.001-07:00

For me.

Annoying and lame to others probably.

Sorry yo.

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The world is a fascinating place

2010-04-04T20:18:00.001-07:00

Or maybe...

The world is a vampire.

Hmm.
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Didja know?

2010-04-04T20:14:00.000-07:00

I can blog via email.

Um, yeah.

Hoppy Easter = :o3
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Pins from Sakura Con <3

2010-04-03T20:51:00.000-07:00

Ichigo <3 from Bleach and Allen Walker & Timcanpy from D.Gray-man. I really like them. Wore them all day today. I'll have to find something to wear them on permanently... Going back to Sakura Con tomorrow morning, maybe see the new Trigun movie but definitely want to pick up D.Gray-man poster I saw in the artist alley. I love anime artists <3 Going to eat some dinner now and then pass out =D
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Sakura Con Cosplayer

2010-04-03T20:30:00.001-07:00

Cosplayers rock mos def yo <3
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Sakura Con

2010-04-03T02:42:00.001-07:00

*Sakura Con has started without me! So sad! I'm going tomorrow, all day! I want to go now, stay all night and all day and all night and come home Sunday when I can die happy having spent the weekend in heaven♥ Dammit! I want to go! Right now! Screw having more money for the artist alley! I can buy online! I want to see my people!*

I caved and went to get my weekend pass. Happy I did. I love Sakura Con! I don't think 3 days is enough. I do wish I had more money to spend though. And my own house to decorate with all my geek gear, heh. For some reason I'm very very tired. I think I'll go pass out now. Gots to get up early of I'm gonna make it to heaven on time =D

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When is it about me?

2010-01-31T00:49:00.001-08:00

Earlier I got in a fight with my mom. I was having an anxiety attack and for me, the best thing is to listen to loud music and that helps calm me down. She was going to bed and just came in and turned it down without asking. I turned it back up, she said she was going to bed so could I turn it down? I said I needed it loud and so no I wouldn't. I said she doesn't care how much the kitchen noises bother me when I'm trying to sleep so why should I care? (didn't say the why should I care part, implied it in my tone). She said this wasn't about me, it was about her. I turned the music off and went back to what I was doing. She got mad said I didn't have to turn it off, why do I have to be like this, yada yada ya and I just said please leave me alone. I don't think anything is ever about me. My bipolar disorder is about how its such a burden to my mom and me getting better at handling it isn't about me getting better, its about me being less of a burden on my mom and my brother. My needing to cope with my anxiety was about my mom not falling asleep. I just feel like everyone thinks everything is my fault and that they think I don't remember where I was going with this, I'll leave it and maybe remember later. My brain feels sluggish.

The other thing I wanted to mention was how when I'm trying to have a serious conversation with my mom and be honest about how I feel and things my therapist has said she either scoffs, dismisses, or insincerely placates me. Which makes me not want to tell her things but she gets upset and tells people I hate her or cries about how I never tell her anything. She's done that for years and why would I want to talk to her when she's contributing to me not being able to talk to anyone.

Got to go to bed. Gonna pass out. Sleeping pill.
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Do I ever do anything right?

2010-01-30T23:18:00.001-08:00

I saw my therapist again the other day. We got to talking about how I never say anything when people say hurtful things to me. She thinks that I have no self-esteem and until I get some there's not much she can do for me. She thinks that I think I don't deserve respect or to be loved. She seems to think its a basic human right, everyone deserves respect and; I guess on a certain level I agree. I just don't understand why anyone would love me. I don't think I deserve to be loved by anyone. Or so she says that's how it sounds what I think. She also thinks that since people have been invalidating what I feel for so long, I don't know trust what I feel and question every feeling I have. Which is true. I do question and analyze every feeling I have. But everyones always telling me what I feel is wrong or that since so-and-so didn't mean it like that I shouldn't feel that way. I tried to tell my mom what my doctor said but she said "o-kay" in that fake just say it to appease her kind of voice. So I guess the therapist is wrong? I just made it all up in my head, I should just be quiet and everyone else can tell me how to feel since I can't figure out how to feel correctly on my own. I really do wonder, does she actually want me to get better or just pretend to be fine so that she's happier? Am I a terrible daughter? Is it wrong to want to fix my relationships as well as my mental illness? I screwed up again today. But what else is new? If I'm forever going to be a screw up and get everything wrong, why am I here? Is it so everyone else can look at me and feel better about themselves? This just sounds like wallowing doesn't it? But since I never get to voice this out loud I guess its okay.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

2010-01-27T19:52:00.001-08:00

If I disappeared, would anybody care?

2010-01-25T18:11:00.001-08:00

Fell asleep face down on my tummy with my upper body on the ottoman and lower in the armchair. Slept like the dead too.

Fire by Kristin Cashore

2010-01-25T16:18:00.001-08:00

On page 179, so far I'm really enjoying it. I loved "Graceling" so was very happy when another book in that world came out. I'm totally in love with Brigan, he's my kind of guy, and Fire thinks/says some of the funniest things. My friend just had her appendix out and is sound asleep on my couch. She's so cute sometimes, I really do just love her so much. Is it because I love her the most that she annoys me the most?

Ah. Well. Back to my book :)

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

2010-01-24T10:29:00.001-08:00

(contd)slept. Since I'm going to bed now at 11am and probably won't get up til 9 or 10. I had ridiculous amounts of fun but aaaggghhhh....its just all screwy.

2010-01-24T10:26:00.001-08:00

I can't tell if BlackBerrys are wonderful or horrible. I just spent 2hrs on mobile photobucket looking at manga/anime pictures. Made me happy but I shoulda sl

2010-01-24T08:39:00.001-08:00

Although I do miss friends I can just hang out with any time. I have a couple of friends but they seen to always be busy. its about 45 min drive to see them.

2010-01-24T08:36:00.001-08:00

I can satisfy my need for social contact without having the panic attack from my agoraphobia and too many people.

2010-01-24T08:33:00.001-08:00

I really do love this phone. And whoever thought up blogs, forums, ims, chats, and all those communications tools. They're really helpful for a shut in like me.

2010-01-24T08:30:00.001-08:00

Mobile blogging doesn't give you much space to blog in. Ah well. Can't sleep, want to write but the laptop is so far away. What's a girl to do. I want sleep.

Early morning email to a friend

2010-01-16T08:42:00.000-08:00

To my dearest darlingest S,
How are you this lovely Saturday morning? Feeling any better? I hope you got some sleep. I, if you haven't yet noticed the time stamp, have not. Instead I wrote about 3 pages of nonsense that I thought I'd email along to you for your "wow, I had no idea K was so whack" pleasure. This whole typing thing must be going straight to my head. I wrote three pages in word the other day too. My blog is looking quite nice and full. Ah, and I am also a proud member of twitter now. Which explains all those weird posts on D's facebook updates. Ridiculous how happy a thing like "what's happening?" can make me. Right up my alley too. I can do it from my phone. All without actually having to talk. I think I might become mute. Take a vow of silence. Type everything I want to say. Or maybe not, since S wouldn't be my friend anymore then probably . Heeheehee. Jeez, what the hell am I doing S? Its after eight in the morning, why am I awake? And why do I keep wanting to write the most ridiculous crappity that keeps bursting into my head??? You have no idea how hard it is to refrain from spewing forth the nonsense. *le sigh* I need to get that stupid back room done, and I need to do all sorts of crap and I have no motivation. Fodder for the gossips to bury me with. I just want to pass out and sleep, but I don't want to go to bed. I'll feel rested but I won't feel as me as I do now. I'll feel like fake bubble-head zombie K. I get really tired of being me sometimes. Sometimes you say that I'm so much better now than I was in high school, why do you think that? I was a tyrant in high school and self-centered, and my highs were very high and my lows were very low, but I didn't feel so, lifeless. Non-existant. Washed out. I don't even know where I was going with that, I think my brain finally went into suspension. I feel like everyone only wants me to get better for their sakes, because of what they need and want from me, and I guess I just want someone who wants me to get better for me, just for my own happiness and nobody else's. Maybe I do have a dependent personality; and unexplored depths of selfishness, I want my very own obsessed cheerleader, that's what that sounded like, right? Okay, comp going off if I have to break the damned thing!

I love you, I hope your feeling better today, got lots of sleep and are all bouncy bouncy (but that doesn't mean you should then do too much and relapse!). Talk at ya laterz.
-K

P.S. Here's my crazy ramblings from a few hours ago. Hopefully you'll be as amused as I was and not just think its time to admit me.

I am high. Which is somehow surprising. S will be sorry she missed out, as will K and D.

2010-01-16T04:58:00.000-08:00

I have been trying to pick a username for twitter and it seems to be just about impossible. The one I’ve been trying to use for everything was already taken and now I have to attempt to come up with something “unique” which is proving quite frustrating. Even the most bizarre ones seem to be taken. No fair. I want the patent on my username, it is mine and mine alone!
I don’t know what to pick… rawrgh! Battle cry of the lion! Viva la revolution! Ciel Bleu!
All the little birds on j bird street rocking to the beat of somethin somethin maybe more somethin' tweet tweet tweedle-dee-deedle-dee-dee tweet tweet.
I think the anxiety pills are a-workin' good yo!
Get down with your bad self.
I had a lovely bunch of coconuts they're they are a standing in a row big ones small ones some the size of your head...ZAZU!
I should watch Lion King. Been forever yo.
Okay bedtime. Time to sleep the crazy off. (If only it were so easy right?)
Once upon a time there was a young lady who went a little shady. Seriously, I must be headed towards one of my wide awake haven't slept in soooooo long lucid periods. I produce my best stuff at this time. Amazing right? right? right? Not right! I should be able to do this without being so twitchy, scatter-brained intense focus. No sense right? But it makes perfect sense. My mental capacity is as contrary as my nature and my nature is awful contrary. You say up I go down. *snicker* *dirty thought* My parents raised a perv! That’s right, I am a perv! I love BL manga/manwha! I don’t think that makes me a perv and I’m actually probably more of a Prudence. Hahaha? I know it was totally lame. Did you ever notice that the really lame jokes are sometimes the funniest? Why, oh why do I ask questions to an audience that ne’er responds? Oh, woe to me. I have the misfortune of answering myself. Its really quite amusing when this side of my head argues with that side and then of course my mouth has to get involved and let me tell you, I can insult myself like nobody’s business. I was worried about it and asked a psychiatrist if I should worry but he said its probably just because I haven’t been around people for so long. Or a lot of people anyway. I didn’t want to mention that it wasn’t a recent development. I’ve always been prone to speaking to myself. I mean, really, who’s a better conversationalist than myself?
I sometimes wonder if I’m as shallow as I tell others I am? Or maybe I really think I’m less shallow than I tell others I am? Maybe I’m more superficial? I mean really, looks do matter. As does money. I really like that movie The Ugly Truth. I laughed so much. Do you know what word I love? Bromance. I don’t know why. I just find it so humorous. Maybe because I’m silly. Bromance. I suppose it will eventually make its way into the dictionary with bootylicious and what is it? The Snoop Dog word. Forshizzle??? I’m not very up on my rapper slang unfortunately. *snicker* bromance. What are you reading? The new bromance novel! *squeal* Wow, I’m starting to feel a little psycho. Maybe I shouldn’t post this. Like they say, don’t post anything to the internet. It can be used to torch you later. Not actually how the saying goes but my brain’s running on chocolate milk.
Tingles up and down my arms. Inside my head, outside my head. I must be headed for what my drs call “manic state”. How clinical of them. I just call it my madness. I have my PMS, my despair and my madness. What fun it is being a girl! Oh the joy the joy! But at least I got boobies! Wow, so going to regret this later. But since no one reads it anyhow, who cares!
Shall I spill all my secrets? Sorry, not that far gone yet. I’m not as funny as I think I am, am I? Is anybody out there? Aliens. Predator. Although, technically, Predator is an allien. They should be friends, start a club. The Alien-Predator Society. They can sip tea and eat biscuits. I wanted to name my cat Pumpkin “Biscuits”, but my mom said cats don’t eat biscuits. I thought it’d be the British way of calling her “Cookies”. Makes sense right? Now she’s a Pumpkin. How many cats in the world are named Pumpkin? And no, she’s not orange. She’s black and white. Ebony and Ivory. Shawn and Gus.
I was so happy. My mom bought me a Naruto calendar tonight and for my birth month the picture is Sasuke!!! *fan girl squeal* I am so excited!!! He is so one of the anime/manga boys I want!!! *blush* Its so hard to pick though. There are so many awesome anime and manga guys out there!!! And they’re all so hot! *sigh*
‘Course real men are awfully delicious too.
Hello, I’m me and this is my madness. How might you be tonight? Or morning as it most definitely now is. Bedtime. I have got to go to sleep and hopefully when I wake up I will be my normal amount of crazy and not the one where I have a need to type as much and as fast as I can just everything that pops into my cute little head. If I really did that this would make even less sense than it did. I so wish I could type as fast as my brain can think. That would be totally awesome. And since I hate talking on the telly lately it seems computers and internet were meant to be my destined loves. And oh how I really do love them.
Love the computer, internet, blogging, forums, face books, myspaces, anyplace where I can write and write and write. I love to write! It is so my most favortitest thing to do. I could write forever and ever. I love to hear the keys go clickety clackety tap. Clickety clackety tap! Love it. Music to my ears. Joy to my heart. I wish I had a head that worked like this all the time. So I could write all day and all night. Anything and everything. My favorite subject in school was English. I loved to write and I was good at those stupid papers and I secretly loved writing them and getting back that A. I loved it. The best time was when my teacher held me after class and I was all, what now, since I was kinda a delinquent and she was all, your paper made me cry. To this day, I am stupidly proud I made a teacher cry over a moment in time paper. Hahahahaha
Write write write. Books, magazines, journals, poems on flowers for friends, letters, I love it. If my head worked all the time, I could do it all the time. Later I’ll be sad and mad that my head went back to being slow and twisted and no good, but now I’m happy. Happy while it lasts, it never lasts long and when the down comes its always a doozy. Down down down, into despair. So lonely I could die. And I’m not even alone! Hahaha. How can I be lonely when I’m not alone? Insignificance is more corrosive than you’d think. Do people think it doesn’t hurt when they say I still love you but I don’t like you? Like is just as important as love. I’d rather be hated than loved but not liked. At least that’s a solid foundation. You can work with hate. I don’t think there’s anybody that hates me though. I suppose somebody somewhere hates me. My mom’s best friend thinks I’m a loser who should move out so my mom can get on with her life. I’m holding her down, keeping her back. Shame on me and my behavior. My dad said that if I died my mom would be sad but she’d also feel relieved and I thought, probably. Everyone probably would. Wouldn’t have to deal with the “problem” family member anymore. I know they’d be sad, really sad, they love me, but if they were relieved I certainly wouldn’t hold it against them. Honesty is the best policy correct?
Less than truthful and omission usually makes things much worse. And I don’t even follow my own advice. I don’t tell my bestest pal anything really. Of course I have a hard time speaking when I need to. Out of practice? Maybe. But how do you talk about yourself with a narcissist who is an expert about making every conversation about her. Type typity type-a-roo.
My eyes don’t even want to stay open. I’m totally trippin’. I don’t know why that anti-anxiety hit me so hard but it certain sure did! I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to lose this clearness at the edges. Bubble wrap. Zombie. Slower. Its disgusting. I hate it. Normal life or not-normal? NORMAL! Any numbskull who chooses not-normal deserves a gigantic beating. Idiots. I can’t function in society without pills and I feel empty with pills and can only barely function in society. Is it worth it? I want to get a job, live on my own, have a life with friends and stuff other than being in my house all the time, but I never feel like me. Its cruel, how they dangle this fantasy in your face of being able to have a normal life and be happy and still be you, but its not true. I’ve never met anyone who it was true for. I’m 26, almost 27, shouldn’t life have more to offer than just making it from one day to the next? What’s the point? Why is suicide such a horrible thing? It seems peaceful. If there is a God, I think I’d rather be dead and in a place where I’m safe and loved and forgiven, than here where I’m watched and judged and always, always found wanting.
I only have one person who loves everything about me. I want more. I want more people to know me and still love everything about me. Am I asking too much?
Too much blathering. I probably sound like a crazy person. I know, not funny. I really do enjoy typing though. Its like super fantastic fun, y’know?! My stupid BlackBerry won’t work *sad face* I wanted to know today’s horoscope! Dammit, how am I supposed to plan my day without my astrological guidance?! Seriously people, we might have a meltdown on our hands. There was an old lady who swallowed a fly, I don’t know why she swallowed that fly, perhaps she’ll die. There was an old lady who swallowed a spider who ate the fly, I don’t know why, perhaps she’ll die. Y’know, really, that nursery rhyme is kinda creepy. Cre-e-e-py crawlers! I guess we’re back to this now then. Time to go, I’ll write an email or something to satisfy my typing lust. Heheh she said lust. Heheheh.

Am I broken? I don't remember how to speak.

2010-01-12T00:56:00.000-08:00

My mom said to me a while ago that she feels like a failure because she can’t fix me. Am I broken? Do I need to be fixed? Why did she have to make it about her? And if she thinks she’s the failure, why does she always look at me like I’m some gigantic disappointment? And sigh and act like she’s shouldering some unbearable burden? She says she doesn’t mind supporting me until I get better, but then she’s always so mad at me, and I don’t understand why. Is it because really she’d be much happier if I wasn’t around? Would she be happier if I wasn’t here and just pretended I was happy when I talked to her?
I almost said “aren’t I allowed to be myself in my own home?”, but this isn’t my home. This is my mom’s home, and she graciously allows me to live here. I should be grateful and in my gratitude do all the housework and cook dinner and anything else she wants. But I didn’t realize that when someone gave you charity it was a requirement to grovel. I thought giving was about helping and not self-satisfaction. So, of course I get pissed off when my dad and my aunts and others tell me I should be doing things since she’s so generous as to house me.
I am very grateful. I can’t even imagine where I’d be if she didn’t house me and pay most of the bills and stuff. But I won’t be forced by anyone in how I show my gratitude. For all the things she does for me I want to say thank you, but I ended up not getting to do that because I can’t let anyone think I can be forced into doing things. I won’t be forced. I refuse to let others tell me what to do. My life is mine.
So, I guess I’ll say it here and maybe someday I’ll be able to say it to her without interference. Thank you for all you do and all you’ve done. I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart. I couldn’t have lasted this long without this refuge. And I hope someday I can be a daughter you’ll be proud of.
I’m going back to my ranting now, and since its my head, computer, and document I guess that’s just fine right?
My mom and my dad are constantly saying to me, but you never do anything. And lately I just want to scream at them. Why can’t they see how hard I’ve been trying? Ok, so I’m not sleeping steady hours (or even really sleeping for that matter), and I’m not working full-time, living on my own, supporting myself, I’m not mentally sound, or super confident, married, dating or thinking about either. And its not that I don’t do anything, its that I don’t do the things that count. Like dishes, and vacuuming, and taking out the trash. I read a lot, and I’m on the internet a lot, and yeah, I watch a lot of tv, but I also, feed and water the cats and clean the cat box. Which is a big deal for me. And just once I’d like to be thanked sincerely for taking care of the cat stuff. Yes they’re mine and I should do that but it takes a lot to force myself to do that little bit.
When I was in high school I was so out of control. I’m not talking drinking and drugs and getting in trouble with the cops. I mean on any given day I went from being higher than a kite to being a crippled, sobbing mess who was on the brink of slaughtering herself. I would get angry and scream at people and I would do anything I could to control a situation. I actually was pretty good about keeping it within my family until I got a boyfriend and that’s when I realized how truly messed up I was. He was my first boyfriend, first love, and many other firsts. I was obsessed. I thought (at the time anyway) I mate for life, even if it is my first. It was messed up, he’s the type to get a kick out of lying to people for no reason and all sorts of other lame things that just made my already unstable world get even more shakey.
I ended up treating my best friend pretty crappy, spending too much time with him, talking about him to much, you know how it is. One day, after things had been messy with him for a long time, she told me unless I was going to do something about it she didn’t want to hear about it anymore. Broke my heart. People have never been overly eager to listen to me, but she was my best friend. Needless to say, I was also having problems with her.
After awhile and a really long story in which this is much shortened. Her and I had a huge fight and stopped talking. I had always assumed friends have big fights and take time off and then say apologies and make up and are stronger friends. Well, a few months later I found out she was sleeping with him and I just felt so... I loved both of them so much. Even though he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore, I still had hope (I was crazy, if you didn’t get that) and even though her and I weren’t friends I really thought it was only temporary. I felt and still feel very betrayed. Even though I’ve made up with her now.
She says I’m so much better now than I was in high school, when I talk about my crazy, but I’m not. At least in high school I felt like I was alive, maybe I annoyed a lot of people, but I’ve felt like a zombie for so long. In the past 7 years I’ve had four major depressions. And I’ve developed a panic disorder and agoraphobia. I used to be able to talk to men, if nervously and a little spazoid, but now I can barely bring myself to speak to them. I avoid them like they have plague.
I have two friends, when before I had only a couple of close friends but lots of acquaintances.
The reason I spend so much time doing “nothing” is because if I don’t, I think I would just curl up in the closet and cry and dream about slitting my wrists and hoping against hope that death would relieve me of all this pain. I don’t what its from. I didn’t have the best childhood, but it wasn’t the shittiest either. I know my family loves me. I know my friends love me. But I’m starting to wonder if anybody likes me. Nothing is good enough.
What am I supposed to do? Four years ago, when my brother tried to kill himself I decided I wouldn’t go to him to cry anymore. I didn’t want to add to his problems. But he’s the only one I feel safe with. That I feel safe so I can cry and I can be not quite right and I don’t have to try to be supportive, or nice, or take care of anyone or laugh if I don’t feel like it or do anything or be anyone but me. I didn’t realize that by stopping talking to him, there wouldn’t be anybody else. And now, I don’t know how to speak anymore. I don’t know how to say what’s really going on, or what’s really wrong, or how I really feel. I don’t know how to say that more often than not my wish is to die. That I spend time thinking of how I could suicide so that I didn’t hurt anyone, so no hates me, so my cats can live in a happy home, so my mom doesn’t blame herself, so no one else can use me as an excuse not to keep going themselves, where to do it so no one I know finds my body, how to do it, when to do it. I can’t cry in front of others anymore, I don’t want anyone to see me so vulnerable. I cry in the shower or in bed when no ones home and try to be as quiet as possible.
I’m an expert at diverting the topic in counseling so that I never have to talk about personal things. Even when I finally get enough courage to say something, I just get slammed down again. The things I feel are invalid. Its getting so hard to say anything anymore. Sometimes when my mom is talking to me and expects an answer all I can do is stare at her and think “its too much work to talk” and I don’t say anything. Its like I can’t say anything, like I really am mute.
The reason I spend all my time on the internet and reading and tv are because its so much easier than living people. At least my friends on the internet like what I have to say. And books and tv, I can escape to anywhere and be anything. I don’t have to be me and think about how I’m 27 and can’t work, and can’t barely leave the house. How my family is fed up with my laziness and trying to pass it off as mental illness. What do I do? If I went to them and asked for help, they’d suffocate me. Where do I go? If I left here to get help, where do I go? I have 3 cats that I don’t want to be even gone for a night from. Stupid, but they love me. They sleep by the door when I’m not home, they cry for me if I lock them out of the bathroom. They talk back when I say nonsense to them.
If I open myself again, and try to make a life, I can’t have it fall apart again. I’m tired, so tired. Do I even have to try?
I used to have dreams like falling in love, getting married, being a mom, writing novels. Now, I just hope I can make enough to live on my own and not burden anyone with my inability.
Well, I think I’ve had enough spilling my guts for one night.

2009-11-24T08:34:00.001-08:00

(cont) too. Not sure how well I like mobile blogging, not enough word room. Bedtime now.

2009-11-24T08:32:00.001-08:00

(contd) didn't care. A simple "how are you" can go a long way and when in a conversation with your best friend you'd think they'd want to hear about your life

2009-11-24T08:29:00.001-08:00

Just finished re-doing my profile on gocomi! Later tonight I might re-do my blog. Been really depressed lately, not that anyone noticed, or maybe they just

2009-11-24T01:41:00.001-08:00

First mobile blog post. Let's see if it works.

Mental dis-fun!-ctioning

2009-09-10T02:38:00.000-07:00

I think I’m hitting an upswing again. I feel silly putting it this way, but I feel my madness coming. My limbs are all tingly-twitchy. I want to go out and do stuff, I feel like I can do things I’ve been meaning to do. Like read this stack of magazines or get interactive with my drs. Write a book, make friends, leave my apartment, exercise, etc etc etc. My head is starting to want to spin in a hundred different directions and by the time I haven't slept for three or four days I’ll have started a million worthless projects and finished none. I’ll be creative and witty and alienate everyone. Then I’m sure I’ll crash and spend a month, maybe even two with barely enough energy to shower, let alone do anything about my life.
I have bipolar disorder, and panic disorder, and maybe borderline personality disorder. I’m getting help from the state, but I feel like they think I’m a fake. I know where its coming from, I’m very pleasant at all my state doctor reviews. I can make really good jokes about all the bad things, which I think makes me look more well-adjusted than I am. My family spent practically my entire life not speaking about the bad things, I don’t know how to just come out and say all of them. And, well, I don’t want to look like a crazy person. I’m a very contradictory person. I don’t want to tell any of it to a male doctor either. I don’t know that I tell anybody all my stuff.

Hard time falling asleep
Hard time staying asleep
Nightmares
Never feel rested
Wake up in the midst of a panic attack
Dream a lot, aware the whole time I’m dreaming
Easily irritated
Entertain visions of violence upon irritating people and their property (more their property than the person)
Crave pop
Crave sugar
Crave meat
Crave oj (recent)
Frequent headaches (started around Dec 2008, never had many headaches before that)
Super anxious almost all the time
Feel trapped
Fear of leaving the apartment
Fear of returning to the apartment after I’ve left
Lonely
Anti-social (very social up until two or three years ago)
Feel despair
Feel left-behind
Guilt
Shame
Fear of being disliked
Fear of being a disappointment
Terror of sharks
Terror of killer whales
Fear of people coming in to my apt when I’m asleep or don’t know they’re coming
No energy for things I love (reading)
Everything takes too much energy

I mean everything takes so much energy, every day, and it always has. I’m always tired, is life supposed to take so much energy? I don’t want this to be how the next sixty years are. It doesn’t seem worth it. Lately, when I go to the doctors and they ask “are you suicidal?” I say no, but its more that I feel obligated not to kill myself because it would upset my mom or my family would be ashamed of me or things like that, so am I really not suicidal? And shouldn’t I not want to die because I don’t want to?
Someone told me once that your suicidal if you have a plan, I never have a plan. I’m all about the impulsive, so if I was to try in the future (and I have in the past) it would be I decide, I go do it, right then, no waiting, nothing. I’d just have to make sure it wasn’t at home. I wouldn’t want my mom to be the one to find my body. And I’d have to decide who would take care of my cats, I’d want my brother but he’s allergic, my girls don’t like my dad or I’d say he’d be best, maybe after a little they’d grow to like him. My mom doesn’t pay attention to them so that wouldn’t be good, I wouldn’t want them neglected. Sometimes I think the only thing that would really stop me is that I couldn’t leave my babies in somebody else’s care, no one can love them like I can. I guess that’s as good a reason as any, right?
My dad likes to ask me what’s so wrong with my life that I feel the way I do. I’m just like really, you’re asking me that? You, who I inherited all this from? And besides, what does mental illness have to do with reality? As far as I can tell not a whole lot. Not that I have much to do with reality.

Geekified.

2009-07-30T05:06:00.000-07:00

I finally watched Appleseed and I totally loved it! Deunan is such a stud! Cute too! I so want to see the next one. I might have to go buy it. I should look on Ebay and see if there’s a reasonably priced copy. I downloaded the song “Dive for you” by the Boom Boom Satellites when I finished watching the movie, I really liked it. Its going to be my new ringtone J Right now I’m waiting for my pics to get transferred to the computer, I had way too many on my camera, I wanted to go print them off, but my mom wants to borrow it for the quilt show tomorrow so, what can I do, there wasn’t barely any room left otherwise. I’ll have to print them out later for scrap booking. There’s an Appleseed graphic novel isn’t there? I should read it.

Ugh, I swear, this heat will be the death of me. Its 2:40 am and still over 80 degrees. At around five pm earlier it was over a hundred. My apartment is some sort of subtle divine punishment I’m sure. They’re going to slowly roast me alive in here with this suffocating hellfire they so cheerfully call sunshine. Bleh.

Nighttime is infinitely better than daytime.

My yaoi slideshow

2009-07-28T05:29:00.000-07:00

I sing and attempt to dance while I'm driving.

2009-07-01T01:54:00.000-07:00

I’ve always liked the song “How I could Just Kill a Man” the version done by Rage Against the Machine. I have no idea why it appeals to me so much. I don’t understand how you could just kill a man. I just love the rhythm(?). The mix of rock and hip hop. Its so attractive. Makes me want to get up and move. I really do think dance aerobics would be excellent exercise for me. Well, if they played my kind of music.
I also really like Puscifer’s “the Undertaker” (Renholder Mix). I first heard it in Underworld: Evolution when Tanus is getting’ his freak on with the two vamp-tramps (I have to add here that they were really lame compared to bad-ass Selene) it’s the background music. I always thought it was a good song and eventually looked it up on either wikipedia or IMDB, then downloaded it off iTunes. Same thing with the song that’s playing in Constantine when John first goes to that club/bar. “Passive” by A Perfect Circle. I enjoy that song a lot too.
When I saw Taken at the theater, I remember thinking they had really good background music, but that it didn’t seem very Liam Neeson-y. By the way, Taken is the perfect daddy-daughter quality time movie. My friend thought I was joking, I wasn’t though. It’s a wonderful portrayal of the depths of a father’s love for his daughter and the tremendous lengths he’ll go through to save her. My dad and I had a great time when we went. We both love action movies.
On Father’s day, my brother and I took my dad to Angels and Demons. I thought I wouldn’t like it very much, I wasn’t very into the DaVinci Code, had a hard time following it (I have attention issues so that was probably more my fault than the movie’s). Surprisingly, I found it quite enjoyable. It was fast-paced and fun. I think Vatican City is gorgeous and would love to see it some day, so seeing it in the movie was fun. And the assassin was hot. I think I might have a thing for guys in glasses. It was kind of predictable though, but oh well.
Transformers Revenge of the Fallen was entertaining. I love Shea LeBouf though. Who’d’ve thought the dorky kid from Even Stevens would turn out so cute?
I finally watched Live Free or Die Hard, I am so totally hot for Bruce Willis. Don’t know what it is. The man’s the same age as my mother, but damn he’s a good-lookin’ stud. I liked that movie, especially that the daughter wasn’t a weepy little pansy-ass.
This wasn’t really supposed to be a music and movie review. I’m never really sure how exactly I end up writing about what.

Your ghetto weapon of choice test. hahahahaha!!!!

2009-03-10T00:23:00.000-07:00

Your result for Your ghetto weapon of choice...

Nothing!

60% likely to use nothing

You're ghetto weapon of choice is yourself, and you're not playing around. When you snap, you're going old school. You're the type that would grind someone's face in gravel than beat them with something. You'd drag another girl by her hair across the dance floor if you saw her with your man. People should avoid making eye contact with you in the hood.

Take Your ghetto weapon of choice at HelloQuizzy

Improve matches question.

2009-03-09T03:26:00.000-07:00

Which best describes the extent of your knowledge in terms of breadth and depth?
a. I have very deep knowlege of a narrow area.
b. I know a little about almost everything.
c. I know a lot about a lot.
d. I am basically stupid.

I really want to click on d. just because I think its fuckin' funny!!!

I need to practice my ninja stealth techniques.

2009-03-07T04:27:00.000-08:00

I got a text from Sarah-darling around noon yesterday to tell me the excellent news of her employment. I was still pretty sleepy but that kind of news needs immediate congratulations, especially when she’s been so impatient to start working again, so I texted her back and shortly thereafter received a phone call. After a little talking we decided to go clothes shopping, she needed new work clothes and I needed to spend my birthday clothing money. Well, I dragged my weary butt out of my especially comfortable, warm, wonderful bed and made myself all pretty for our big outing. Then what does that brat do? Calls me up and says she decided to stay home because she doesn’t feel up to it! I was a trifle miffed, but I forgave her because she has been sick for a week and she did offer to have me come hang out with her at her place, besides, I’ve done that to her before, at least she had a good reason.
Since I was already dressed and ready to go I thought it would be best to run to the library and return my lost items so I could check out my holds. I felt way too proud of myself for doing such a small task, but that’s just how it goes in my world. Then I let myself go home and take a well-deserved nap. It was a miracle! I only slept for four hours and when I woke up I felt energized and refreshed! Usually they turn me into something resembling a zombie.
I kept wanting to call Sarah to hang out but didn’t want to drive to Seattle so I diddled around my apartment until a little before ten then took my restless rear off to the bookstore where I proceeded to sing to myself while browsing through books, suffering through the rant the voices in my head were having on the degeneration of the quality of fantasy novels, the increase in prices on books, how I’m perpetually broke from an insatiable desire to read, read, read! And then I started paying more attention to the music I was listening to and it came to this one song called “Everywhere I go” by Hollywood Undead. In one part it goes “when I start drinking, my dick does all my thinking” and what popped into my head was back in high school when I was hanging out with Tasha and whenever I did something gutsy she’d say I had balls. Brass ones. A big set of brass balls. I’m not really sure who started saying it first or how long we did that but it sure was funny as shit. I must’ve looked like a crazy person in that bookstore, laughing about it and then other jokes that I started making to myself. The times I should be more self-conscious I’m completely oblivious.
New topic!
I just got a BlackBerry Storm since my other phone kicked it. I am so totally in love with it! *squeal* Its so cute in its hot pink case!!! And I can do so so so much with it! Internet, email, pictures, music, video!!! And I’m sure this will be my favorite… it has voice notes! I can record myself talking and then text or email it to people!!! Or since I’m me I can record myself talking and then listen to myself talking!!! I am so vain. The song is about me! I will admit to anyone that I have a superficial, shallow, materialistic personality and usually with little to no shame. Whoever said looks don’t matter was a complete dolt. Somebody should shoot him for spreading such ridiculous drivel. Looks may not be everything, but they are something.

A test question.

2009-02-25T01:08:00.001-08:00

You have good control over your desires and temptations...

The answer I picked:

b) Haha! Not.

The answer actually sounds how I would phrase it!

What I think about in the parts of my head I don't usually share.

2009-01-18T05:15:00.000-08:00

What should I do? I am so very tired of everything. I just want to cry “HELP” and have someone save me. Come into my life and make it all better. Which is not going to happen. And I also keep making a big deal about how I need to fix my life myself. Sometimes I talk too much. Although I’m sure if someone did come in and started trying to do anything with my life I’d be totally pissed off about it. Contrary, that’s me!

Although, its not even really about that. I just can’t ever let anyone have control of my life, or even let them think they do. My life is MINE! I hated when I was a child and didn’t have any say in how I lived and then I kept getting stuck back in these horrible, painful, violent places and I could never leave. I had nowhere to go. And now, I’m 25, almost 26 and I still have nowhere to go.

I can’t function. Its like I don’t know how to do anything anymore. I don’t remember how I used to get up everyday and go out everyday. I don’t know anything about being an adult and I’m so afraid of having control over what happens to me taken away that I can’t even ask for help. Or even who I should ask for help. I don’t know how to not be sad, how to leave my apartment everyday, get a job, save money, go to work, how to not have panic attacks when I think about having to do anything. I wake up having panic attacks. I wake up scared every afternoon. I don’t even know how to go to bed at night and get up in the morning. I stay up all night. Sleep all day. Shoot, sometimes I sleep all day and all night.

I like to think that if I just stay in my room I have control at least over that much space and hence myself. But I can only live here so long as my mom lets me. If it wasn’t for her I’d probably be on the street. A good friend of hers that she’s known forever likes to tell me about when she was depressed and she didn’t know how she kept going to work and it was only the fact that she had to that kept her going and not homeless. She thinks if my mom put me into that situation that I’d at least be able to work, but I know better. I have never in my life been able to do things like that. I can’t make myself do something because I need to do it. I can’t even make myself do something if I want to do it.

How do people live? I don’t understand. How are people capable? I don’t understand. I hurt all the time. My head and my heart and my body just feel so worn out and achey all the time. I’m scared all the time. Of almost everything. I’m anxious, worried, panicky, paranoid.

I want to get help. I want to have a better life. I am so scared of trying and having things get better again and then having bad things happen again and everything just falling apart again. It just happens over and over and over and over. Something bad happens, usually really bad, and I can’t handle it. I fall apart. I don’t recover, or deal with it. I become a recluse. Quit my job if I’m working, stop going out, stop getting out of bed, stop talking to people, stop doing anything. And I can’t help it. Not won’t, can’t. I fail. I let down everyone who loves me.

I want out. I don’t know where to go. I feel like I shouldn’t go and beg for help from anyone and everyone because there are people who are worse off than me and who need help more than me. I like to tell myself something I read in a book about how pain is pain and you can’t compare it because you shouldn’t belittle another’s suffering, and then I don’t even listen to myself. Which is nothing new either.

I think I’m going crazy. I feel trapped by my mom who’s been monetarily taking care of me and giving me time to get my shit together. I should be grateful, but I just feel like she owes it to me since she contributed a lot to my dysfuntionality. My dad who is really the root of the problems, I don’t really expect anything of him. I know he’ll never be together enough to give me anything more than a good conversation every now and then. Most of the time he just makes me want to cry, or more slit my wrists. Remember its lengthwise not widthwise.

I don’t think I’d ever try to kill myself again, but you can’t really know something like that can you? I think a lot of the time now I don’t do it just because of the disappointment, shame, and pain it’d cause my family than because I don’t really want to. Well, that and I’m afraid of causing myself physical pain. I don’t think I could handle the looks people would give me if I survived either. I can hardly stand the looks now. The can’t you try a little harder, look what your doing to your mother, the stop faking it. Also, I don’t think I really want to be dead, I just don’t know that I want to be alive.

It just seems like most of my life has been about hurting and that the happy times are just glimmers here and there. How do you know if you’re going crazy? I feel like the few things I remember from before we moved to Washington when I was twelve happened to someone else, and its starting to feel like that about my teen and early twenties too. Sometimes, I wonder if what I remember actually happened or if its something my mind made up.

They’re were things that I thought happened that my mom says never did, or that they happened differently or that they happened at separate times and I’m just mushing them all together. I want to say, how would you know? Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t remember things how they happened. But I worry. A lot of my childhood is just gone, there’s nothing there, its just blackness. Or there is, but I don’t want to know what it was. I’m sure its all just scary and sad. Probably more terrifying than just scary. But I worry when she says things like that to me. Can I not trust the little I thought I could in my own mind?

I took a sociology course in the little college I took. I only went for like three days, but in one they were talking about how some people who have traumatic childhoods are resilient. They can bounce back. And there are others who are just forever broken. I used to like to think that I was the resilient kind, but I’ve always feared that I’m the broken kind. That I’ll never be okay. I’ll never lead a stable, happy life. Or even that I’ll never have any kind of life.

Its hard. I watch my cousins and my brother building these futures, I watch them living their lives. And I don’t know why I can’t. They’re growing up and moving on and I’m just being left behind, all by myself. Is that always going to be me? Am I always going to be the one that didn’t do anything? Who live and died and did nothing in-between. And I’m so proud of all of them. They’re all so wonderful. I want them to be proud of me. But I have nothing. There’s nothing about me to be proud of.

I think maybe its bath time and then bed time.

Um, I posted on CL but was flagged in like then ten minutes it was on there

2008-12-31T08:29:00.000-08:00

So, um, I'll post it here. Yay for my own blog!

I swore to myself I wouldn’t do this, but I’ve never been good at keeping my opinions to myself so here goes.

The first thing I have to get off my chest is my response to this CL posting:

“Type A (Everett) Hello ladies. Tired of boys? Want a man, not a wimp? Here I am. Want a man who wants to drive when we go somewhere? Demand to sit next to you in restaurants? Lead you on walks as walk hand in hand? Definitely be in charge in the bedroom while giving you what you want. Not a bully, not an ass, just a man. A man who wants to take care of his girl and treat her like a princess. I am fun, very fit, outgoing, goofy, and honest. So if you are tired of boys and want a real man, lets talk. I have a great home, career, and friends. I want a great girl for a terrific relationship.”

Um, where to do I even begin? I think right here; "lead" what the fuck do you think I am? A child? A puppy? Isn't "lead"ing me by the hand something more of a "boy" would do? And what the fuck is up with the whole "real" man crap? So, a "real" man isn't equal-opportunity on the whole in-charge department? And what's up with the wimp comment? So, a "real" man, makes demands, leads me, and is in charge? Wow! Sign me up for one of those! My gosh, what a stud!…Excuse me while I vomit.

Getting right back to basics I always thought a “real” man was anyone who had a penis. I suppose if you want something more thoughtful than that I could go on to say how I always thought a “real” man was someone who was himself however he is. I didn’t think it had anything to do with who drives, or where you sit in a restaurant, or what goes on in the bedroom.
Now, I have nothing against this guy saying what he wants from a relationship, what I have a problem with is the derogatory manner in which he put it (and personally, how he wants his relationship, but you probably picked up on that) and I didn’t want to be polite and keep my opinion to myself, what can I say, I’m not that kind of girl. I really want to make a few more complaints, are ya’ll gonna get bored if I do? I guess we’ll find out.

This could totally just be me, but when a guy talks about treating a woman like a princess, or a goddess, or along those lines I’m thoroughly offended. Personally, I’d rather be treated like a human being. If I want to be fawned over all the time I’ll start a fucking fan club. And give me some credit, I know that’s probably not exactly how they mean it, but its not very clear. So, what? You’re going to dress me, put me on a throne, worship me, bring me offerings? If you’re going to treat me like a princess, a goddess, does that mean you want me to treat you like a prince, a god? Or a subject, a follower? And again, that’s probably not how they meant it and maybe I’m just dense for not reading between the lines to how its supposed to be meant, but it just seems like a cop out for not having to put down anything of merit as to how you’d actually like the relationship to be.

Anyways, I could go on (not to mention on, and on, and on, etc), but it is now way too early in the morning and tonight is New Year’s Eve so today would not be the day to stay up too late and have no energy for the whole staying up late gig.

Well, a little bit early, but Happy New Year!!!!

Gigantic dorkism: a serious illness that's not taken serious.

2008-12-31T02:28:00.001-08:00

I, mean, here it is two am and I’m totally making lame jokes to myself and laughing hysterically. I even look like a dorky-dork, what with my hair (which is not very long) all pinned back from my face with whatever I could find, where’s my pride as a woman?! A few weeks ago I totally failed my shallow personality by thinking “what’s it matter if I look cute when I go out?”!!! I was so alarmed I had to text my friend, I thought maybe an alien had invaded me when I wasn’t paying attention (although if I was paying attention would it have mattered?).
See what I mean? And then just now I was making a joke to myself [well, I was typing it to my friend on her myspace page but whatever, a lot of the time when I email her things in the middle of the night its kinda just to cover up me telling lame jokes to myself and getting a kick out of it, all by myself (somehow that makes it seem even more lame, doesn’t it?)]. I do that way too much. What’s really silly is when I’m laying in bed talking to myself and number 2 voice in my head starts making jokes about what the number one voice says. (Yes, I have more than one voice in my head, but since I’m sure nobody I actually know reads this I can safely admit. Of course, I’d probably have no problems just admitting it to anyone anyway.) And then I either laugh because it was so funny or get angry because it was in bad taste. Sometimes I wonder if I’m not actually a little bit insane.

What’s really bad is when I get into arguments with the voices or when they argue with each other and then decide we’re not speaking. If those voices are me, can I really not talk to myself? Isn’t that kind of like saying I’m not thinking anymore? Because those voices are just me, right? Just my inner multiple personalities all wanting to put their two cents (more like $200) in. And really, since I think of them as voices one and two, and then I have my own voice doesn’t that make three voices? And really the more I write the more worried I get, but I also find it really funny. I think I have personality issues. And yet again, I think I don’t. Have personality issues I mean. (Excuse me while I lie to myself).

But you know what I noticed? The older I get the more I notice I don’t care how dorky I am. Which I should think would make me happy because it shows that I’m maturing right? But, its so disturbing because now I don’t care like if I date (not quite true) and I read way, way too much and I watch too much anime. So, like, is that really maturing? I mean there are other factors to why I do that as much as I do, but still. I can’t tell if I’ve matured or not since I got out of my teen years. Of course, I can’t tell how much of a kid I was in those years. In many ways I’ve been an adult since I was a very small child but in others I feel extremely young. I totally don’t feel my age. 25. Ugh. I’ll be 26 in two months. I either feel a hundred or three. Very confusing. Although I’ve always found myself very confusing so this shouldn’t be all that surprising.

I think I think too much. A lot of the time I think if I still acted on impulse like I did back in the day I’d be better off. Thinking too much gives me way too many reasons not to do something. Not to mention the suffocating panic attacks. Sure, I may have done some major stupid things, but hey, at least I did something. And really, a lot of the stupid things I did are really funny. Like, I got suspended from school for being caught in bed with another student. When my dad was talking to the principle on the phone when she called he said, “that’s even worse than when she got caught smoking!” When my mom went in to talk to her she said it was the first time in her 30-something years teaching! It shouldn’t be funny, but it so is! I mean, come on, who else can say they were suspended from school for that reason! I still get a kick out of it.

The smoking story is even funnier. I started smoking when I was sixteen(?). Well, I’d only been smoking for like two weeks or so and one day I was in my car, smoking, stopped at a light by the Haggen’s in Marysville, and I’m glancing around waiting for the light to change and who is stopped right next to me? My mom. It was so NOT funny at the time, my jaw practically hit my lap. She’s just sitting in her car screaming and pointing at me to pull over. I was so fucked! Oh, god, its so fucking funny now. Its still one of my mom’s favorite stories to tell.

I swear, I was not a delinquent in high school. At least not by my standards. I didn’t think I did anything particularly bad and I still think that. I am a bit of a hypocrite though. If my cousin had ever done anything even remotely like I might have done I would lecture her forever. (I don’t remember this, she says she told me she lied to her parents about some little thing she had done and when I found out I lectured her for hours; my baby cousin was not going to do anything dangerous that was for damn sure! I know, hypocrite. She’s the only one I worried about like that though.) She never would’ve done anything I needed to worry about though. She was a good kid. The other day when we were down there for a Christmas celebration, while she was out I thought of a name to call her if I was ever mad at her (she said that I’d never get mad at her, which is true but still), it fits though, no offense cousin-mine, its not totally true your looser than this, but ahem, prissy-krissy. *snicker* I don’t even know why it came to me when it did.

I have a thought pattern that if anyone could ever follow I’d be in shock. It makes sense to me, mostly, and I guess that’s what counts right? As it is I got so far off topic I don’t even really remember where I was going with this blog. I think I was going to type up all the lame jokes I’d been telling myself lately. The one I typed up to Sarah-darling was, “Oh, how I love me, let me count the ways…ah! I mean, oh, how I love thee, let me count the ways”. Its probably not even original, I’m sure someone else has thought it up before. That’s probably true of every joke though.

The one I was really proud of was I was babysitting ferrets and I was very tired so instead of bringing the food out of the kitchen or even putting it on a plate I went and got a chair and sat with the food still in the containers on the counter, it was nice, sitting down it was right at chin level so I didn’t even have to lift the spoon, I could just shovel it right in. I thought it was so funny, so I texted my brother and friends, “If I could, I’d take a picture of myself and show you what laziness looks like”.

I feel somehow dumb typing up such lame-ass junk. Maybe no one will read this and then I don’t need to be embarrassed. I could just not post it, but that seems like such a waste. I make the best jokes by making myself the butt of them anyway. Hahaha! For some reason I’m in an excellent mood. Who-da-thunk-it. It happens so rarely these past few years I’m starting to think its an anomaly.

I don’t really remember the other ones. I guess I’ll just have to start writing them down huh?! Jeez.

Frustrations.

2008-11-18T23:38:00.000-08:00

Why is it that I always expect change where nothing has ever changed? My temper snapped last week and I couldn't stop myself from yelling at my mom. I know yelling doesn't help anything, but I couldn't hold back things I needed to say that never seem to get heard when I'm talking to her, or to anyone for that matter. I know yelling at her was not the best, but I also know that its something that I shouldn't have to apologize for. Well, when we got home I called my dad and told him that I snapped and yelled at her and he of course asked me why and what I said. I told him, thinking that maybe he would understand because he's been there. I'm sure he could be understanding if not sympathetic. We had a talk that I actually felt good and relieved at the end of, I thought, "finally somebody's listening to me, and actually hearing what I have to say." I should've known better. He was over here the other day to check out my mom's car and he said to me that if I ever did that to her again he'd come pack my things and kick me out. It happened just like always, I think, finally and then later, after talking to my mom everyone is mad at me. I just don't understand how everything thats wrong with my mom or between my mom and me is my fault. I used to be happy when my family members would call me up to check on me and see how things were, but now I don't pick up, return their calls, or even most of the time want to see them. They say, have you gone to the doctor yet, looking for a job, doing the dishes, etc. My answers I know are not satisfactory, they aren't even satisfactory to me, but for the past year or so it seems like they only care because of how it affects my mom. They want her life to be easier, better, more. Its like they don't care if I get better only that I get better for my mom's sake. And its not true, they don't think that, I know they love me, but I don't feel it anymore. I know it in my head, but I never was good at listening to that organ and its so much harder now. They all treat me like the screw-up who's never going to do anything, be anything. Its like they've all given up on me, they just hope I can get it together enough to not be a burden anymore.

I actually wrote this yesterday and then had problems with my internet and didn't get to finish and now that I've lost my train of thought it doubles the frustration. I really dislike my crap-ass computer. (no offense machine).

Some funny shit.

2008-09-08T23:10:00.000-07:00

My friend and I were were talking about guys and how I thought she wouldn't have been with this one guy for very long because he wasn't passionate enough and I said she needed someone with intensity, a burning gaze, and then I apologized saying I'd been reading too much. But she all of a sudden started laughing and I was like huh? I guess for some reason she was thinking gays as in plural gay not gaze as in eyes. Its been a week and I still crack up!

Lala! Funny animes!!!

2008-08-24T03:42:00.000-07:00

I watched some major cute animes the last couple of days. The first was Lovely Complex. It was so good! I was laughing and crying and getting angry right along with Risa! Oh, man, the manga is great too. Risa and Otani make me laugh so much, I'm usually afraid I'll pee my pants! The other one I watched that I was a little iffy about before I started was SA but it turned out to be great too! I love the manga for that one too. You can't help feeling sorry for Takashima who fell in love with the most unobservant girl of all. How Hikari (*adorable Hikari*) doesn't notice is beyond me! Takashima's great, I love the Dark Lord type! hahaha! All the characters in that one are awesome! Jun with his secret inner-perv and Ryuu who'd be challenging Takashima for first if he wasn't always so worried about the twins! Oh, its so good! I could gush forever but I won't. Just call me major fangirl! Well, I'm thinkin' its bedtime!

Been reading some damn good stuff lately.

2008-08-19T00:17:00.000-07:00

I've been really disappointed in a lot of the new books coming out lately. I've been thinking they're really predictable and too much descriptive sex. I don't mind sex in books, but I read for the story not the sex. I guess maybe its not the sex, its the hardened member and that crap, bleh. If I want that I'll go buy a porno.

Well, getting back to what I was actually talking about. I've found a few really good books that have come out. One of them is called Keeping It Real by Justina Robson. Its not the kind I usually read, I usually go Fantasy not Sci-Fi, but this was such a excellent mix of both. It has elves and cyborgs! I saw it at the bookstore and didn't have enough to buy it, but couldn't get it out of my mind and happened to find it a couple weeks later at the library, read it as soon as I got home and couldn't put it down for long. The main character is awesome! Lila Black, she's cool. Especially reading about all the stuff built into her body. It took a little longer to read because of the unfamiliar terms, but still damn good.

The one I stayed up all last night to read is Blood Ties by Pamela Freeman. I really enjoyed that one. Not only does it tell the main characters' stories it also tells the stories of the people they meet too. I really, really liked it. Bramble is great, I totally love her. I wasn't liking Ash very much because he was being such a wussy boy but he gets a lot better before the end so I guess he's okay. I can't wait for the second book, ugh, it doesn't come out until November though! I am not a patient person, I hope it comes out early!

Then when I was at Borders and I found the first issue of a new magazine called Yen Plus, and there's a couple of good stories being serialized in there, Sarasah and Soul Eater. I'm excited, I still love Shojo Beat and Shonen Jump but I wasn't wanting a new one to read. So this came out at a perfect time.

I'm also hooked on an excellent anime, Hell Girl. Its so so so good. The art, music, characters, story, everything is excellent!!! And I finally found Zombie-Loan on Livevideo, that was good too. I wish it had more episodes. Michiru is so adorable! Luv her!!!

Got to go for now!