We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Saturday, 30 April 2011

Good Bye

I love you all. You gave me so much in the short time I knew you and I will forget you. Be safe and take care.

Just One for Me Please

So I have been out of it for the last few days. Last couple weeks actually. I am certain a lot of it has to do with me not being medicated. I am also a rapid cycler* which doesn't help matters and I tend to "switch"*  regularly which only makes me even harder to get along with. It's like being on a never ending roller coaster. I appreciate all of you hanging in there with me. It's strange for me to have so "many" people that I am interacting with. Something about the distance of being "online" makes it easier for me to interact with so many people all at once.

Offline however is a far different story. I often only have ONE friend at a time. I watch ONE TV show at a time (when/if I watch TV that is). I have ONE food that I eat (when/if I eat). My life offline revolves around the singular. Anything plural makes me nervous, anxious, panicky. Having more than ONE friend at a time is just more than my brain can comprehend. I stress myself out and worry that one will become jealous if I spend time with the other. Or even worse they will become friends and BOTH leave me.

I feel I have more control in my online relationships. I can turn them on or off as I see fit. I can reply when I choose and there isn't the feeling of having to put on a "front". If I am feeling pissy, then I just don't come online. No need to explain my absence. No need to answer unwanted questions. When I make a post saying I am having an off day, the people here understand and don't push me beyond my comfort zones. Maybe it's because the majority of my online relationships are also with people who have bipolar or another PD so there is an understanding that doesn't exist with the people offline because none of them have bipolar and/or don't know that I have it.

I have had to do quite a bit of physical work the last few days which has helped me to kick depression out of my bed sooner than I normally would have. I have noticed that the more physically active I am the less severe my depression is and the less it stays. The problem is that I can't always be as active as I have been the last few days so when depression rears its ugly head, it usually bends me over and has its way with me for as long as it wants and only leaves when it's good and ready to.

rapid cycling: The official definition of rapid cycling is four or more distinct episodes of depression and hypo/mania a year. 

switch:   If you go from one episode DIRECTLY into another type of episode, with no normal mood period in between, this is a "switch," which is usually considered worse than just plain rapid cycling.

When shadows paint the scenes
Where spotlights used to fall
And I'm left wondering
Is it really worth it all?

There's a peace inside us all
Let it be your friend
It will help you carry on In the end
There's a peace inside us all 

"inside us all -creed"

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Forbidden Desire

I remember the last time I saw him. If I close my eyes, I can still feel his touch. Feel him sliding inside of me. Consuming me. Taking all of me inside of him. Wrapping himself around me. Two beings becoming one. At first I tried to fight him, but he always knows exactly what to say. Exactly how to break me.What I hate the most is that he knows I am going to give in. We both know I am going to give in, but I so want to refuse him. To not allow him to enter inside of me, but he always gets his way. 


The minute he leaves I vow that I will never allow him to return. I will never allow him to consumer me again. I will never allow him to take me, but then when I feel his touch upon my skin I just can't say no. He has his way with me and then when he is finished he simply tosses me aside.

until the next time.

I hate myself for allowing him to do this to me but his hold over me is too strong. Even though I hate what he does to me, a part of me misses him when he isn't there. There is an emptiness that only he can fill. His presence is comforting in the darkness. It's the only time I feel.

Not alone. 

I can sense when he is about to appear. My body betrays me and call to him. Calling him to come and take it.The way it is now. It knows he is about to return. About to consume me once again. I close my eyes preparing myself for the darkness and await for his first kiss. 


Monday, 25 April 2011

Merry F'ing Xmas

If my family were a tv show, then they would be a combination of the Bundy's and the Simpsons. These are conversations that actually took place during various holiday gatherings. I tried to be as invisible as possible during these gatherings. They were basically a government sanctioned excuse for getting drunk and then putting lights on anything within reach.

"Put her down. Put your sister down damnit. Stop looking at her. I said stop fucking looking at her. Why can't you two just be normal? Go outside and play in the street for a while. You're giving me a headache. Well, don't just stand there. Go I said."

"For crying out loud. The gawddamn dog just took off with half the turkey. Who let the damn dog in the house anyways? You? Well I hope you ate breakfast, that was your turkey he just ate."

"Stop picking your nose and wiping it on me. If I wanted boogers on me, then I would pick my own fucking nose."

"Where are Andy* and Marie*? Has anyone seen Andy and Marie? You know they aren't allowed to be left alone together. You remember what happened at Thanksgiving? Will someone go find Andy and Marie? (mutters under breath) before there is another "accident"?"

"Where's the turkey? I thought you were making the turkey. No, you were suppose to make it. No, we agreed I would make the Xmas ham and YOU would make the Thanksgiving turkey. That was last year. We switched this year, remember? Oh! Well. I got some chicken in the freezer I guess I better get it unthawed."

"What the hell is wrong with this pie?! Why does it taste like that?! You put SALT instead of SUGAR in it! No wonder it tastes like shit. I think you have had enough to drink today. I am cutting you off."

"I thought you were putting the gifts under the tree from "Santa". No, you always put them under the tree. Oh well, she's 5. It's time she learned the truth anyways.Honey, there is no santa. Merry Xmas."

"Why does Aunt Sarah call her grandbaby "izzy"? You don't know? No. It stands for "is he his or is he not?" Get it? Izzy (is he). Ohhhh!"

"Where's my Mountain Dew*? Did you take my Mountain Dew? You know I can't go huntin' if I don't have my jug of Mountain Dew! Now where did you put it?"

 "I'll give you a dollar if you go pull down your mama's sweatpants".

A few seconds later, a loud scream followed by " but Uncle Jay told me to!". "JAY! Did you tell him you would give him a dollar if he pulled down my pants?"

Looking shocked, "NO! NO! I would never do such a thing. Did he pull down your pants?Really? Must have seen it on the TV or something.You shouldn't let him watch so much TV. Rots their brains".

Happy Fuckin' Dysfunctional Holidays to you. Pass the Xanax, turkey's gonna be awhile.

*Andy and Marie -not their real names, but I actually have two cousins who are step brother and sister that ended up married to one another. Their parents married when he was 4 and she was 2 so they were raised as "brother and sister" when they found out they weren't "blood" brother and sister, they suddenly realized they were in love and spent the next 4 years trying to be together whenever they could. After she went off to college and returned, they got married and you thought your family was messed up. HA! You can't outdo our inbreeding. We been doin' it for generations!

*Mountain Dew a.k.a white lightning a.k.a homemade moonshine. By the time I was 4 I had learned NOT to ask for a drink of that "Mountain Dew" . When I was 2, they filled my bottle with it and I  got so DRUNK I could barely walk which isn't that unusual for a two year to be stumbling around and unable to stand. Once they realized that no one noticed. They would continue to do this for about 6 months until they got me so drunk I ended up with alcohol poisoning. After that they only gave me beer. No more hard liquor until I turned 6. Oh and they would be my grandfather and uncle. The Brady Bunch we were not.

 This was for a writing prompt for Studio 30 +. The prompt was holidays with the family.

In a Daze

For the last couple days I have felt like I was stuck in a fog. My head's all dizzy. My vision blurred. I feel like my head is some how floating above my body, not quite connected, but not completely detached. I hate having problems with my sugar. It seems like if it's not one thing, then it's another. So yea I am having a pity party today and you can't have a party without music, so enjoy!

Saturday, 23 April 2011

Suicidal Tendencies

I have been suicidal  for pretty much the entire time I have been on this planet. It may not seem obvious to most people. I haven't slit my wrists or OD'd. I haven't painted the wall with my brains so people think I am OK. However I am far from ok. I am better today than I was before, but I still have moments. Some forms of suicide are obvious and others are more subtle.

For many years I prayed my entire existence would just end. That I would DISAPPEAR from the face of the earth or that the earth would open up and SWALLOW me. I did things. Things that would have probably KILLED most people. Dangerous stupid things.I did them hoping, praying that they would somehow ERASE me. All I wanted was for the pain to just STOP. It hurt so badly and if I could just VANISH, then the pain wouldn't be able to find me. I just wanted it to STOP.

When these moods come, I tend to disconnect from myself. Put myself in extremely dangerous situations, but what most people don't realize is that I truly don't know how much danger I am in. I truly can't see how far down the rabbit hole I have fallen. Sometimes I don't even know I am falling. There are times, even now, when I think is this all really worth the struggle? Would it be easier to just fall inside of myself and let the darkness take over? To just sit in the corner and cease to EXIST?

It does scare me sometimes that maybe one day I will fall into myself and I will get so lost I won't be able to find my way back. Then another part of me thinks, would that really be so bad? Letting the insanity take over?

I think what most people don't understand is that people who commit suicide don't want to die. They just want the pain to STOP. Most of the time they don't even realize they are committing suicide. The first time I attempted suicide I was 13. Severely depressed. It wasn't something I planned or thought about. One Friday night I walked into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet to look for the nail clippers, instead I saw bottles of pills. Some my mum's. Some my Gran's. Some mine. Before I realized what I was doing, I had taken half of them. I returned the empty bottles back to their place in the medicine cabinet, walked to my room, and simply lay down to go to sleep. I left no note. I had not consciously planned it. It just happened.

Before anyone starts getting the wrong idea, I am not suicidal. No need to go calling anyone. These are just thoughts that I think most people with PD struggle with. Fighting insanity is a constant battle that doesn't ever end. After fighting for so long, you begin to wonder if it's really worth the battle.

Thursday, 21 April 2011

They Must Be Lying

I have noticed recently that the voices in my head do not like being "praised" or told they are "good". I have never really known what to do when someone complimented me. Does saying "thank you" mean I am conceited? I never know what is expected of me when people say "wow that is amazing". What do they want from me? I just don't know.

Until recently I never realized how much I degrade and belittle myself. Mostly because there was no one really to "praise" me. Jigger doesn't count because he is married to me and therefore subject to torture should he not say nice things so his nice things don't count. It's my world I make the rules and change them as I please. 

I have been doing some freelance work and the people I have been working for do nothing but compliment my designs. Which is odd for me. I instantly think "they must be lying, why won't they just tell me the truth". I constantly say "if you don't like it, please tell me. It won't hurt my feelings. I know I am not that good". It's bizarre hearing such compliments and I don't think I realized how little I thought of myself until these last few weeks when I started doing this design work. 

I have always said things to myself, but before I had no proof that the thoughts were wrong. I was a whore. I was/am a bitch. I was all of the negative things my brain said I was. I was doing those things. I had no reason to doubt the thoughts in my head because they were true, but now I am not so sure. Don't get me wrong I don't think I am Picasso but maybe I am not the horribly bad person I have told myself I was my entire life. 

Honestly I don't know. I am afraid that I am going to sabotage this path I have started on because that is what I always do whenever anything good comes near me. I destroy it. Rip it to shreds because I don't deserve "good". Then I distance myself from those who think good of me and surround myself with those that degrade me because that is what I deserve. 

At least that is what the voices say I deserve and I am their slave. Sometimes willing. Sometimes not, but in the end, they usually get their way. They know the real me. The me I hide from the world. They know the truth. The people who say "good" about me don't know what I have hidden in the closet. If they did, then they wouldn't say those nice things about me. 

When I first met Jigger, he asked me why I told people about some of the things in my past. I replied, "it makes it easier to weed out those who are fake and those who have potential". I mean if I tell you and you stick around, you're either as sick as I am or someone I can trust. I must test you to find out which. Jigger just looked at me like I was speaking Klingon or something.   But in my mind, it makes sense. Why invest six months or a year of my time and life in being "friends' with people who in the end are just going to leave. If they are going to leave, then damn it leave now. Don't waste my fucking time. 

Trying to figure people out is like trying to solve a crossword puzzle in Japanese except I think I could figure the puzzle out before I did people and I don't even speak Japanese. 

My brother, you love her
But don't give up your instincts
Hang onto you know what
They'll be gone fast as you blink

They're trained to seduce you
Suck you dry quick as they can
They bite down, reduce you
Now you're barely a man

Oh my God
How could You deny the flood
That's flowing through You?

"liar - korn"

Wednesday, 20 April 2011

Rambling Thoughts

I have many demons, skeletons, or whatever you prefer to call them hiding in my closet. Things that would make some people run for the hills to get as far away from me as possible. Things I am not proud of and things I regret deeply. Things that most days I would love to forget and pretend they didn't happen. Things that I bury deep down inside of me. Things that I keep hidden in the dark so people won't see the "real" me. The ugly me. 

I make myself pretty. I show the world a pretend version of me. One that is likeable. One that people want to be around, but it's not the "real" me either. Truth be told I don't know what the real me is. I don't know if I will ever put my puzzle pieces together so that I can finally see the image they make.

I look at other people and they seem to have it all put together. They know exactly what they want and who they are and where they're going. A part of me wishes I were like that, but another part of me thinks it would be boring. To know everything. A part of me says there must be "more" than  "this" or is "this" really all there is? 

Honestly I don't know what the answer is. I know I have spent years searching for some magical land that would make me feel "whole", but it doesn't exist. It's just a fairy tale. It's not real. After I married Jigger, I gave up on that magical fairy tale land of completeness. I stopped searching for it and a strange thing happened. It found me. I didn't have to go anywhere or do anything. When I finally stopped running, I realized that part of me that was missing, wasn't really missing after all. I had just hidden away in the darkness and forgotten it was there. All this time I had been running around trying to find it and it was behind me the whole time. I just never saw it because I had been searching for it in all the wrong places. If I hadn't met Jigger, if he hadn't made me stop, then I would have probably kept on looking in the wrong direction and I would have never found "peace". 

I am still not whole. There are still parts of me that are missing, but I am closer today to putting my puzzle together than I have ever been in my whole life. It's all because I stopped running from the demons hidden in my closet. I opened the door. I turned on the light and I faced them. I looked them right in the eye and accepted that they are a part of me, but they aren't all of me.

Glass Houses and Stones

It takes a LOT to make me distance myself from people. I can overlook most things. My house is made of glass so I tend to pick and choose when to throw my stones. How do you know when enough is enough? When the person has crossed that line and it's time to separate yourself from them? This is probably the hardest thing for me to do. I have done so much shit in my life. Hurt so many people. Who am I to judge anyone or say that what anyone does is "wrong" and I don't want to be associated with that? 

This is the situation I find myself in at the moment and I truly just don't know which direction to take. On one side I am angry that I have been put in this situation because I shouldn't have been and on the other I think it's really none of my business so I should just look the other way. But I just don't know. If it were an "acquaintance" then I would have no issues walking away, but it is someone I care a lot about so I just don't know what to do. I have so much already going on that no one knows about and now this is dumped on top of it.This always happens. Every time I think I have found someone who will be there. I mean truly there. Regardless of the shit I pull, something always happens and I lose that person. Jigger always says to me that "a person is known by the company they keep". He asks me "do I know want to be known as "that"? 

Honestly the answer is no. I don't. but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

Second Guessing Paranoia

Do you see what I see? Probably not. I have often noticed that my perceptions of events are not necessarily what is actually happening or being said to me.This inability to correctly perceive what others say has often times landed me in deep shit. I have agreed to do things without ever realizing what I was agreeing to and by the time I did realize it was too late. Either I went down or walked home. Considering the walk home is over 25 miles and going down takes 5 mins. Which one do you think I picked?

I have also noticed in my writing that often times what I am saying in my head is not necessarily what comes out in my writing. I can only assume this happens when I speak as well. Which would explain why people get pissed at me a lot and the majority think I am a bitch, cold hearted, and rude. While I think I am funny, generous to a fault and charming.

Whenever I am having a conversation with someone, what most people don't realize is that in my head there are multiple conversations taking place at once. You may say "it's cold in here" and in my head I am thinking "does that mean I am suppose to do something, should I turn on the heat, close the window, did I do something wrong, is it my fault that it's cold in here, do I get you a jacket, make hot tea, but what if you prefer coffee, I don't want to ask because that might offend you because I should know whether or not you drink tea or coffee, but how could I know because we just met and I haven't had time to ask, but I did open the window earlier, are you angry about that? you're angry with me because yesterday I had the window open and now it's cold in here and you blame me for that and you will hate me forever and not want to be with me because "It's cold in here". 

I constantly feel the need to explain myself to others because I am so paranoid that something I say will be taken in the wrong way. I constantly apologize for things "just in case" I did something wrong and don't realize it.The one question I ask Jigger the most is , "but what do you mean when you say that?" and he just looks at me sometimes like he has no idea what I am asking because all he said was "it's cold in here".

I very rarely comment first on people's blogs and if I do comment first, it's usually a very generic "great post" or "I totally get where you're coming from" reply because those are "safe" replies that can't be misunderstood. If I want to write a longer comment, then I read what other people have commented just to be sure that what you said was actually funny/sad/angry and that I haven't misunderstood what you were trying to say.

It's too bad people don't come with a comment box. Wouldn't that be cool? Then when someone said something to me I could just look at previous comments and know how to respond. It would so make my life easier. Ok minions you all need to get working on this. People comment boxes coming to a Tesco's near you. Fall 2012.

It's funny this post actually came about because of a comment I made and then apologized for because I wasn't sure if how my comment would be perceived. I had an amazing conversation with the person (you know who you are) about this and I am very glad I did because I think that this must be something that a lot of people with bipolar and any PD really go through. In some form or fashion. Our world spins in the opposite direction of others and it's one reason I think we feel so alone and misunderstood. At least I know I do.

Actually a thought just came to me. Something I had never realized before but as I was typing this I just realized it. Living in a world where you can't trust your own perceptions, where you are never quite certain if what you're seeing is "real" or if it's just in your head causes an enormous amount of stress, anxiety, panic, fear, uncertainty, doubt, inability to act to move forward.

Imagine you're driving somewhere and you become lost. You don't know where you are or how to get to where you're going. You start to feel anxious, panicked, uncertain. You don't know what to do. Everything around you is unfamiliar. You don't know what is safe and what is unsafe.  Now imagine living like that 24 hrs a day 7 days a week 365 days a year for as many years as you are on this planet.

That's what it's like to be me.

Where you going now?
when your world's turned inside out
isn't love what it's all about?
where you going now?
when you get to the top of the hill
gonna be there yes I will

"where are you going now - damn yankees"

Tuesday, 19 April 2011

Space Time Continuum

I very rarely know what the day and/or date is. Even when I know I dont really "know" what it is. I probably check the calendar on my computer 1000 times a day just to verify that it is still what day it was an hour ago and time hasn't suddenly altered course and somehow it was Tuesday at 2:00 pm but now at 3:00 pm it is  Friday. Time seems like a non reality to me. Like a moving object floating in front of me that is always just beyond my reach. I can't sleep without knowing what the time is either. I use my phone for a clock. I sleep with it beside my pillow. Where at any given moment I can reach out and feel its closeness. Having it there makes time "real" and less "changeable". I can hold time in the palm of my time and somehow keep it from "floating away". 

Sometimes though I forget to charge my phone and at some point during the day it will die and when it does I start to panic a little because I don't know what time it is. Of course I could look at my watch or the clock or my husband's phone or his watch, but those aren't real. Only the time on my phone is real and I won't be able to sleep until my phone is charged. Allowing it to charge while I sleep is also not an option. I will remain awake until it is charged and then put it back in its place beside my pillow. Only then will I even have the slightest of chances of falling back to sleep. Don't ask me why it is this way. It just is. 

I am not really sure why I feel all panicky about the time. I don't lose chunks of time but it's hard to explain the floating "time" that seems to exist outside of my head just beyond my reach. Why am I telling you this or what is the point of this post? Well I am not really sure except that I laid down about an hour and half ago and went to sleep. Then about 15 mins ago my phone died. I laid there for all of 5 mins trying to convince myself that nothing bad would happen if I went back to sleep without getting up to charge my phone, but I lost that argument so here I sit while my phone charges. Waiting for time to return within my grasp so that I can lay down and maybe sleep for more than an hour today. I wonder what that would be like. Sleeping for longer than an hour at a time. 

And you run and you run
To catch up with the sun
But it's sinking 

"time - pink floyd"

Sunday, 17 April 2011

Reflection in the Mirror

Look! Open your eyes damn it and look! Look at yourself! Look at what you have become! How could you let yourself get in this shape? Damn it I said open your fucking eyes and look!

 That's you. That's what you have become. Do you see that pale face with the glazed eyes? Do you see the tract marks in her arms? Do you see them? Look gawddamnit! 

That's you! Do you remember last night? Do you remember how many you did just so you could get a fix? 

Are you crying? I swear to god I will gut you like a pig if you shed one fucking tear. Now open your gawddamn eyes and look in the fucking mirror. LOOK!!

Are you looking? Do you see what is behind you? That little girl in the corner? Do you see her? Look! Look at her! Sitting there, rocking back and forth holding tight to her teddy. 

Look at her! She is all alone and it's your fault. You abandoned her. She has been sitting there. 


For someone. For anyone to help her, but no one came. Not even you. How long are you going to leave her sitting there?

In pain? 

Don't you dare look away?! Look at her.

 That's it. Go to her. Don't be afraid. Go on. Take her in your arms. Hold her tighter. 

You're ready now. 

"Hello. My name is MJ"

"Hi, MJ"

"Um, I um I um.. 

I was um... my my father um..

M-m-ol.. he raped me..my father raped me and umm this is my um..

first meeting here so umm I just don't really um.. know  what to say...."

You did good today. 


Over there. 

She's smiling. The little girl. She's not frightened anymore.

 Do you see her? She's singing to her teddy now. Look, teddy must have told a funny because she's laughing now. 

"Hello. My name is MJ and today I am a counselor here at Haven House. Looking around the room I see a few new faces and I know what you're feeling. You're scared, nervous, not quite sure what to think. I was you one year ago today so if you need someone to talk to, I am here. I have been where you are and I know what a scary awful place it is, but just know that you're not alone. You have people here that understand what you're going through and are willing to help you. Willing to just listen. 

You're not a bad person, and it's not your fault.

 What happened to you, it wasn't your fault. "

This was for a writing prompt at Studio 30+. The prompt was "Integrity is telling myself the truth. Honesty is telling the truth to other people" Spencer Johnson.

Saturday, 16 April 2011

Delusions of Grandeur Pt 2

What's inside your head?

I thought I would make this a mini-series. Lifetime would be so impressed.Part One is here

For me, this symptom is one I think I suffer from the worst. It causes me to have an all or nothing approach to life. I get ideas in my head and I have literally no impulse control whatsoever when an idea does jump into my brain. I am however funner than hell to be around.

Bored? Ooh ooh let's go swimming. At night. In the ocean. Naked.

Hungry?  let's take the bikes. Downtown. At 2 am. For burgers. Ooh ooh and do a few wheelies and burn outs and then run from the cops because there is no way in hell they can catch a bike.

It doesn't matter what you mention. I will do it. Not only do it but believe I am the absolute best mo' fo' around. You say 10 I will do 20. If I can't, then I will pimp my blood out to make sure I get it done. This is what has caused me to lose my life. Not once, but three times. There are no consequences in my world. No thoughts of tomorrow. Just an idea pops in my brain and within 5 mins I will have sold my soul to do whatever bizarre, insane thought my twisted  brain decided to conjure up.

What I hate the most is not that I do this, it is that people  LET me do this. I don't get this. If you truly LOVE someone, then tell them to sit the fuck down that there is no way in hell this is a good idea. Do NOT let them jump out of the plane without their parachute. Do not be afraid when I say I hate you because you told me no. I don't really hate you. I am testing you. To see if you're real or fake.

In my twisted mind, a true friend will tell me no. A fake one will jump with me. If you jump, then it doesn't matter how much I pretend to like you. In my head, I know you're not real.

Confused yet? Try living with my brain in your head for a day.

One day Jigger and I were having an argument. He yelled at me that this was my problem. That this is the reason my life is so screwed up. We were screaming at each other, and when he said that, without thinking I instantly screamed back, "You don't think  I don't fucking know this?! I hate being this way. I don't want to be this way, but I can't stop myself."

I didn't even realize what I was saying until after the words had left my mouth. Jigger stood there in silence, staring at me. It was the first time he realized that I didn't like the way I was. That I don't want to be this way, but I don't have control over it.

I hate this part of bipolar the most. It makes me feel powerless and helpless. Two things I hate to feel. Two things that are triggers for me. So it is really a vicious cycle that I have trouble sorting through. It also makes me unable to trust myself. I always doubt if what I am seeing or feeling is true or if it is my brain twisting things. Then I feel the need to choose the worst case scenario and prepare for that. My life then becomes a self fulfilled prophecy, but my delusions are confirmed because the worst did happen. What I don't realize is that I made it happen.

Let's take a poll. Shall we?

Who's crazier? 

a.)Me for believing I could see spirits, talk to the dead, read minds, tell the future 
b.)the people who believed me and asked me to read for them and based their decisions upon whatever I said including marrying the person I said they should marry?

Is it you inside my head
Is it you inside who says
That I've become, someone else

"inside my head - di-rect"

Friday, 15 April 2011

Kermit Get Out My House

There is a fuckin' frog jumping around my room and Jigger refuses to get it out. Instead he is sitting at his desk laughing his ass off at me every time the stupid little fucker jumps near me and I scream like a virgin on prom night.  I may have had a crush on Kermit when I was little but that does NOT mean he can jump around my fuckin' room like he owns the place. Dude is lookin' at me funny too. I bet he tries something when I go to sleep. 

You are hereby warned lil froggie. This is not the Arc and I am not Noah. You best just hop on down to Miss Piggy's place before I fry me up some frog legs for dinner. 

What does friend mean to you? 

A word so wrongfully abused 
Are you like me, confused? 
All included but you 

"frogs - alice in chains"

Thursday, 14 April 2011

Mending the Fences

Jigger and I rarely argue. We both are extremely low maintenance people so usually things tend to just float on by. However, when we do argue, we do it loud and proud. It usually is started by some extremely ASSanine event such as "keeping the bananas in the fridge". In reality, though it really had nothing to do with the bananas actually being in the fridge. 

Because Jigger's upbringing seems very "normal" to me, I sometimes forget that he also has his own issues. He was brought up in a very strict home where certain things were expected of him once he came of age. Marriage. Kids. Carrying on family traditions. None of which he actually did and the ones he did, like marriage, he did them in a way that totally went against his family's teachings. He has spent his whole life feeling rejected by his family. Feeling unloved and unwanted simply because he chose something different for his life.

So when I whined my little girl whine the other day, he exploded not because it really mattered where we kept the damn bananas, but because he felt I was "rejecting" him. I get that. I have major rejection issues. I ask him constantly "do you love me". My ears crave hearing the sounds even though he shows me in a 1001 other ways my ears still need to hear that sound. They need constant reminding. Constant reassurance that he is not going to leave. I need this much more so than others do.

It has been 3 years and in that time I have never really explained to him how deeply I have been effected by my past. I just expected him to know and understand something he had absolutely no way of comprehending. With this last argument that started on Sunday and has finally burnt itself out today, I really opened up to him and explained how I felt without accusing or screaming or calling names. Well initially there was some accusing, some semi-screaming, and a bit of name calling, but definitely not on the level that I usually do. It was a definite first. He learned something about me and I learned something about him through this whole process. I learned that when he says to "forget" my past what he is really saying is that "he is not like the others". That he won't hurt me the way others before did. He didn't know how to put it into words and I am so sensitive and don't talk about it, so he just was expressing it the only way he knew how. Instead of really asking him what he meant, I put my negative self-depracating spin on it. 

It's taken nearly 4 days and a ocean of tears to get there, but at least we have made it. Better late than never. 

Ohh and today Jigger brought home some bananas with him. I didn't ask him to buy them, but he knew I was out. Guess where he put them and I didn't even have to ask. It's his way of saying "I love you" without the words.

Because I want this blog to be a sort of documentation of my moods, triggers, reactions, etc, I guess it only fair to include the shitty part as well as the awesome epiphanies. The shitty part is that I have been cutting daily for the last week almost. I don't really know what started it. Jigger actually hides the razor blades he uses, but I know where he has them hidden. I use them then put them back. He has no idea. I had pretty much gone for almost two months without really doing anything, then suddenly the other day I was like a junkie looking for a fix. Yesterday that thought really hit home as I was sitting in the bathroom sliding the blade over my arm I realized that this must be what it feels like to shoot up. I never have, but I have seen enough people do it and the look on their faces and the way they react is very similar to how I think I feel afterwards. I don't know why I do this. I don't want to but whenever I get super stressed and it is more than I can handle, I instantly revert back to this behavior.

You're the one that I live for
And I can't take it any more
I love you
I need you
What can I do to make you see
You're the only one for me

"i love you - faith evans"

Wednesday, 13 April 2011

It Doesn't Mean I am Wrong

 "Just because I do things differently from you doesn't mean they are wrong. It just means they are DIFFERENT! Why can't you understand that? Having my every single action "critiqued" is more than I can handle. I didn't grow up in a family. I am the square that will never truly fit in the round hole even if you somehow manage to squeeze me through.

Please try to understand I am different. I like being different. My past has made me different. Constantly telling me to "forget my past" is extremely demeaning. It makes me feel as if I am somehow not good enough. As if that little girl I use to be is somehow to blame for all that happened to her, and she isn't. She is just as innocent as I am. You have to stop trying to "forget" and start trying to "accept" because forgetting doesn't make it go away. It just makes it fester and boil until it finally explodes. I am tired of festering and exploding. I just want to be.

Even if I am different, it doesn't mean I am wrong."

This was for a writing prompt for Studio 30+. The writing prompt was RISK. This weekend I learned to stand up for myself. It took me 2 days and several attempts before I got up the courage, but I am glad I did. It was definitely a risk worth taking.

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Just Don't Do It

Whatever you do, Do. Not. Put. Bananas. In. The.Fridge. It's not worth it

I have sort of been MIA the last few days. I didn't really trust myself as to what I would write if I did post. I thought it best to just say nothing at all until I had some control over the shit that spews forth from my facehole. I use the word "control" very loosely. 

As idiotic as it sounds it all started because I like my bananas in the fridge. I don't like them room temperature and mushy. Like many other things I prefer them hard and firm, slightly chilled to the touch. Apparently others though consider putting bananas in the fridge equal to murdering baby seals so to say that my last few days of being "better" got shot to hell is an understatement. 

Somehow at the end of it all, I am still the crazy one? I just don't get it. The moral of the story? Just don't put the fuckin' bananas in the fridge. It's just not worth the 3 days of hell you will have to endure because you like bananas chilled. Learn to pick your battles. This one is just not worth it. 

This shit is bananas
(This shit is bananas)

A few times I've been around that track

So it's not just gonna happen like that
Because I ain't no hollaback girl
I ain't no hollaback girl

"hollaback girl - gwen stefani"

Saturday, 9 April 2011

Make Up Your Mind

Conversations that take place inside my head:

1.)Don't look at me. Don't look at me. Please don't look at me.

Why aren't you looking at me?

You're NOT looking at me! Why the fuck are you not looking at me? Don't you love me? Why are you ignoring me?

2.)Don't talk to me. Don't talk to me Please don't talk to me.

Why aren't you talking to me?

You're NOT talking to me! Why the fuck are you not talking to me? You don't love me that is why. Why should you love me? No one can love me. I am unloveable. 

3.)Don't touch me. Don't touch me. Please don't touch me. 

Why won't you touch me?

You're not touching me! Don't you love me?! Of course not. No one can. Who would want to touch me? I am untouchable.

I use to have this argument over and over with an ex of mine. We would argue and I would scream at him to leave. Then he would start to leave and I would stand in front of the door and beg him to not leave me. It made no fucking sense to anyone. Not even to me. I didn't love him. He was abusive, cheating, and many other things, but I didn't want him to leave either. We developed a sick relationship that "worked" for both of us. We lived together as husband and wife. In front of certain friends, we were "married". Did all the normal things married people do. Then in front of others we were "roommates". We simply shared a house. He did his thing and I did mine. He had many girls on the side. I didn't care because he was close but not too close. He was there but not so much so that I felt "suffocated" by his presence. 

In the home, I did all of the "wifely" duties. Cooked. Cleaned. Sex. Then on weekends he would go out with his girlfriends. Movies. Dinners. Motels. I would go out with my friends. Visit relatives. Whatever I felt like doing. We lived separate lives but were together. In my crazed brain, it all made sense. It was the perfect solution. Until it wasn't.

I often wonder how long I would have stayed if he hadn't become friends with a guy who had a 15 year old daughter. She's his wife now. It was more than I could handle. Messing with his best friend's kid. It was too much for me. Too close to home. Brought up too many memories. I told him to choose. Her or me. Want to know the funny part? He chose me and then I walked away. I didn't want him. I left. I divorced him. Something sick and twisted in knowing that if I had wanted him I could have had him, but I didn't. It gave me a feeling of power and control.

The day he married her, he showed up on my door step. Wanting to know if we could work something out. I shut the door in his face.

Life's funny like that sometimes.

Make up your mind to explore yourself
Make up your mind you have stories to tell
We'll search in your past
For what sorrows may last
Then make up your mind to be well

"make up your mind - alice ripley"

Thursday, 7 April 2011

First Time for Everything

For reasons unbeknownst to me, this last week or two has just been funky. I haven't felt "myself". I felt like I was wearing someone else's body and it wasn't exactly the right size. I never know why these moods come. They just do. I never know why they go. They just go.

If this mood weren't bad enough, a couple three days ago I found out that Jigger was going on a trip. Well maybe going. In July. Nothing confirmed, but it PISSED me off. I am unable to go because of visa issues, but as soon as he told me I instantly felt the rage jump out of the pit of my stomach and into my throat. Somehow I managed to keep it contained inside my mouth, but Jigger could tell by the look on my face that I was not HAPPY. 

For the next 24 hrs I said not one word to Jigger. I mean Not. One. Single. Word. I didn't look at him. As far as I was concerned he simply did not exist. He let me be. Then I HAD to ask a work related question. He answered and the door was opened. Slightly. 

As hard as I tried NOT to be pissed, I still was. The occasional snide remark slipped out and Jigger just let it go. He saw that I was TRYING to control the rage that was inside of me. I was TRYING to gain control over the emotions that were spinning a thousand miles an hour inside my head. Paranoid, irrational, illogical thoughts. Thousands of them bombarding my brain each second and yet somehow I managed to keep almost all of them from escaping. 

Then 48 hrs passed from the time I found out about this maybe not yet confirmed trip. Slowly acceptance was starting to creep in. Real acceptance. Not the fake shit I had been telling myself for the previous 24 hrs. My heart stopped pounding in my chest. My breathing eased. My mind slowed down a bit. I became more in control of my thoughts.

72 hrs has now passed and then I remembered something. Something I had totally forgotten. Something that if I had totally come unglued I would have never remembered. That forgotten thing that was rambling around in my brain, fighting to come to the surface was the one thing I needed. It was the truth amidst the lies that my brain had been telling me for 3 days. It took me 3 days to find it but I found it. That is a first for me. This is the first time I was able to really control my rage and out of control feelings, and I am damn proud of myself. 

While most of this post makes no sense to anyone outside of my head, I thought it important to document this moment. So that when it happens again because we all know there will be an again, then maybe I will remember to just hold on. Just let the emotions run their course and wait. Don't react to the first thought that comes up for air. Don't assume the irrational, illogical crap screaming to be released is correct. Just because it wants to be free doesn't mean it has to be let free. This post is to remind myself the right thought will eventually come to the surface and when it does, I will be able to recognize it. So trust it.

Things really aren't as bad as they seem.

With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open

"with arms wide open - creed"

Tuesday, 5 April 2011


"What are you doing?!"

"Packing. What does it look like I am doing?"

"But why are you packing?"

"Johnnie and I are gettin' out of here. I can't take it anymore. I am suffocating."

"Where are you going? You can't leave me here like this. Were you even going to tell me that you were leaving?!"

"You know I love you but I can't take it anymore. I have to get out of here. I will come back for you I promise."


"I promise."

"Where are you going? How will I reach you if I need you?"

"Vegas. Johnnie and I are going to be showgirls in one of those casinos."

"You always were a good dancer. Take me with you?"

"You know I can't. Not yet."

"Will they put your name in lights?"

"I will send you pictures if they do."

"I am going to miss you."

"I am gonna miss you too".

"Oh Johnnie's outside. I have to go. Don't tell anyone. Here. Take this."

"What is it?"

"It's a couple hundred bucks. In case you need anything for school or whatever. Once I start working I will send you money, but don't give it to Mum. It's for you. For school. Understand?"


"Promise you won't give it to Mum. She will just shoot it up."


"I gotta go. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Ready?" Johnnie asks.

"Ready. Vegas here we come."


This was for a writing prompt at Studio 30+

Monday, 4 April 2011


The last few days I have felt like I was in a fog. Just going through the motions. Not really present. Unable to actually "connect" with the words that seem to be continuously spewing from my mouth. I don't know what brings these moods on or what makes them leave. They seem to have a life force of their own and occasionally our paths seem to cross then they just move on to wherever it is they were originally headed. Leaving me behind going WTH just happened. It's during these times I find I lose whatever ground I have managed to gain. These little side trips remind me of just how much harder it is and sometimes I wonder if it really is worth it all. If I should just let the delusions take over and live in fantasy land. I am certain if I was medicated, then these little bumps wouldn't seem so big.

For me, taking care of my spirit is probably the hardest part for me. It is the part I ignore unless it starts jumping up and down shouting "look at me over here look at me". Even then I only pay half attention to what it is saying.

There are times I wonder if this "sane" me is actually the "crazy" me. Not ever being able to trust what I see or hear has taken its toll. Whenever I meet new people, I always wonder if they are saying what it is I think they are saying or if I am just reading my insanity into it. This is why I keep my distance from others, but humans are pack animals and I am human so after a while I start craving nearness. I want to be close to others but on my terms which most of the time they don't understand.

So hopefully this fog lifts soon. I am ready for it to move on. 

and I can't pretend that you were there
and I can't pretend I held your hand
and I miss your smile
I miss your smile
I need you now
I need you now
and I am not scared of falling down

"wintersleep - fog"

Sunday, 3 April 2011

A Beautiful Mind

Have you seen this movie? No? Then you have to. It's AMAZING! It's based upon John Forbes Nash Jr. He is a crazy who wins a Nobel prize. There are other geniuses who were just fuckin' nuts too. 

Like Pythagoras, he was the math guy. He is the reason you know The square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the square of the other two sides. I bet you didn't know he founded his own religion. Kinda like a Greek L. Ron Hubbard except in Pythagoras's religion not only did he believe in reincarnation but that beans were evil.Yes beans as in "beans beans good for your heart the more you eat the more you fart". Yes those beans. Although if you spend more than 5 secs around my Uncle Bo after he eats beans, then you will start to agree with ol' Pythie on the beans thing. 

So this has got me thinking. Maybe I am not crazy. Maybe none of us are crazy. Maybe we are all fuckin' geniuses and we haven't convinced the other crazies to follow us because seriously how many times have you really needed to know The square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the square of the other two sides? 

Exactly. So I think I will start working on my plan to take over the world and declare brussel sprouts as the sperm of satan. Have you ever smelled brussel sprouts cooking? There is no way that is not the sperm of satan. All those parents who try to get you to eat  your brussel sprouts. They are really satan's wives trying to impregnate you with his offspring. 

I so would have drunk the kool-aid. 

I go crazy, crazy, baby, I go crazy
You turn it on
Then you're gone
Yeah you drive me
Crazy, crazy, crazy, for you baby
What can I do, honey
I feel like the color blue... 

"crazy - aerosmith"

Friday, 1 April 2011


I thought I would continue on with the body, mind, and spirit post by talking about each one individually. I have never been diagnosed with an eating disorder, but I am certain I have one. How can I be certain? Well I am pretty sure it is not normal or healthy to not eat for days then suddenly eat the ass end of boar and then be so disgusted with myself that I don't eat again for days and then suddenly eat the ass end of a boar. I could keep going but I am sure you get my point.

I also don't look in the mirror often. About two weeks ago I happened to look up while I was washing my hands. I realized that was the first time I had seen myself with my glasses on. I could use the excuse that I don't wear them except when I am working on my computer, but I have had them for two years so that excuse just doesn't seem to cover it entirely.

There are times when I look at my body and see this:

Trouble usually follows after I start seeing her in the mirror. She doesn't think. Not about consequences or tomorrow or much beyond the next five minutes. She is impulsive, spontaneous, fun. Everyone loves her. Male and female. She is not afraid to try new things with new people in strange new places, but she is also tiring. She goes without stopping. Doesn't need sleep. Is always searching for the next high to numb the pain. Each high has to be bigger and better than the last. While I have enjoyed spending time with her, I am also glad to see her go.

Unfortunately when she goes, I usually start to see this:

When I see this, it isn't long before I have the razor in my hand. When I look like this, I cut myself off from the world. Don't talk to anyone. Start calling in sick for work or just not showing up at all. I don't shower this. What is the point? You can't wash that off. No one wants to see it. Not even me. I can sleep for days like this. What else is there to do? Nothing except disappear.

Reality is I am neither of those things.  Even so I still don't look in the mirror. At least not often. Occasionally I become curious. What do I look like now? Then when I do look, it is as if I am seeing a stranger for the first time. I will stare and wonder is that what I really look like? It's strange seeing your own reflection and not recognizing it. My eating now is much better than before, but that is mostly because of Jigger. When we first got married, I barely ate which lead to many fights. I began eating just to avoid arguments. Now after 3 years, I eat at least one meal a day and snack on fruit throughout the day instead of just eating sugar junk or crisps/chips. My eating habits may not be100% healthy, but they aren't bad like they once were. I can definitely tell a difference when I have too much sugar or caffeine. I become irritable, anxious, jittery. I avoid those foods as much as possible now.

Because I have a somewhat "regular" eating habit, I can tell right away when my pendulum starts to swing. I stop eating. Jigger and I start arguing. I start thinking about chatting guys up on the internet just for fun. I know it's time to stop and collect myself before I go too far. I have lost so much already. I don't want to lose what little I have managed to regain.

Sometimes I watch my sister as she fixes her hair in the mirror. Turning left then right. Making sure every strand is in place. Eyes open wide as she applies her eyeliner. Checks her teeth and then heads out the door. Sometimes I feel jealous. Wonder why my mirror is so broken and hers so perfect.

I have been pretty detached the last few days. Ever since I wrote about my delusions. That is why my writing is so shitty these last couple days. Never ending roller coaster.

Ain't tryna hear you
Just tryna hear me
Don't wanna hear nothing, baby its selfishly
I blaming you for the hurt in me,
but it's not your fault that
I'm so incomplete
"mirror- mary j blige"


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