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

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Lustful Addictions

Back in the day when I was lost in the vortex that is my insanity, I longed to be "consumed". I wanted to become so lost inside someone and have them be so lost in me that nothing outside of us existed. It was this thought process and this longing that lead me down the road which ended in a total break from reality. There is a part of me that still longs for this though. 

A little tiny part tucked back into the corner. It occasionally peeks his head out and tickles my insides so I remember he's there. A part of me would give anything to be just someone's everything. To be the air that swims through their lungs, the blood that courses through their veins, the beat of the drum within their chest. 

Another part of me has given up on ever having that. My husband loves me, worships me in ways I've never been loved/worshipped/desired, but even with all of his love poured into me, it still is not all consuming.  The part of me that contains the few normal brain cells realizes having what I have with him is worth more than the few moments of time I might have being consumed, but another part of me, a part that lives fully within the insanity longs for the consumption. Longs for the brief moments of time where I become consumed by another and I have to remember to push that part of me down and lock it away. Otherwise I'd lose everything.

I've been on the other side before and I've come to realize I'd rather be empty is consumed.

This spat was inspired by Haven and her Quotes from the Borderline

Sunday, 27 November 2011

For Those Ten Minutes

Every morning Jigger gets ready for bed and as he turns the light off, I snuggle in beside him. I rest my head in the crook of his arm and we conversate. For just a moment. Usually we don't talk to each other. Not because of anger or disagreements, but just because. Neither of us are chit-chatters. We both are comfortable sitting in the silence that floats between the words. We don't feel the need to fill the void with idle sounds and letters.

Except for those ten minutes. 

They demand to be filled and we willingly oblige. Then as quickly as the letters come together, they disappear and the silence takes its place once again. And I lie there, safe, knowing that I'm protected. For those ten minutes. 

Then sleep comes and Jigger turns over and I get up. Turn my computer on and continue to work for another 4-5 hrs before finally I climb back in beside him. I gently tickle his hair and he turns and back into the crook I go. It's a dance we both know well and we each play our part. Willingly. Without fear, without worry, without doubt. For those ten minutes.

Friday, 25 November 2011

Shiny Bubbles

Do you ever just wonder what it'd be like to just "be" without having to try? To just float through life on a cloud without having to force yourself into a hole that is too small for you? To close your eyes and let the sand float through your fingers? To feel the wetness of the rain tickle down your face? To just be able to breathe air in and out without having to force it through your body? 

I wonder what it would be like to walk without chains. To float and swirl and twirl until you fall down dizzy. 

Within these days I am free. As free as I ever am. The weight that sits upon my chest becomes lighter. Easier to carry. The darkness of my corner is less black and between the layers I wonder. Wonder and roam invisible to those around me. Running my hands across the tops of the grain stalks as I walk through the fields. A silent observer of life until the time comes for me to return to my dark corner and back to blackness of whence I came.

Thursday, 24 November 2011


I don't talk much about religion on this blog, and while I don't follow the ritualized dogmas of religion, I do have a very strong set of core beliefs. My every non crazy action is based upon those core beliefs and values. This is why next month I'm taking a week off of work. Because it is more important to observe my beliefs than to earn money. While I believe this to the very depths of my being and existance and have no desire to actually work, the crazy part of my brain is freaking out. I recently started my own business and after a lot of hard work, it's doing pretty well. The crazy part of my brain is paranoid that if I take a week off work, then people will think I've disappeared and I will lose all of my business and all of my hard work will be lost. 

Even IF that happens I'd still take the week off work, but having such conflicting thoughts troubles me. I want to be firm and strong in my beliefs, but when these thoughts appear it's hard to know if it's just the crazy talking or if there is a crack in my foundation. I don' t really know and while I hope people don't forget me so easily I worry so much that they will. It's a strange place to be. Wanting to be seen while remaining invisible.

Sunday, 20 November 2011


So Jigger surprised me today with a very nice dinner out and a new coat for our anniversary. If you knew Jigger you would then be able to fully appreciate the level of surprise involved. I really hope our next year is less chaotic than our last few years. I also hope that we are able to move. I am 100% certain 99.9% of our issues would disappear if we could ever just move. Environment is a major trigger for me and my current environment is less than ideal. 

I honestly don't know what is going to happen in the future and I'm trying very hard to not worry about it. To just let be whatever will be and try to work with it, but for a control freak, that is a very difficult thing to do. 

Tonight we'll be having cake to celebrate. It's the little things that matter.

Not June Cleaver

Tomorrow is my anniversary. Jigger and I will have been married four years. It doesn't seem that long and at times it seems even longer. In true us fashion, we had a major argument today. Seems only fitting since it's been about two weeks since the last one. We were overdue. Today's argument, like most of our arguments, started over food and the fact that I don't eat it. I know how hurt and upset it makes Jigger and even as he was sitting there I could see the pain and hurt in his eyes, but I could NOT put the food in my mouth. Even though a part of me wanted to for him. A part of me wanted nothing more than to just be normal and able to pick up the food and eat it like normal people do, but I'm not normal. The normal brain cells are way outnumbered by the crazy ones and like usual the crazy ones overruled in this case and the food sat in front of me untouched. 

I hate being this way. I hate being unable to just be like everyone else seems to be able to do. I hate causing Jigger pain. I hate that I'm so fucked up and broken. During these times, I so wish everything would end. Don't take that the wrong way I'm not suicidal and don't have suicidal thoughts, but there is  not a day that goes by that I don't wish it were my last. There is not a breath that escapes my body where I don't pray that another doesn't follow it. I so wish for this existence to end. I'm so very tired.

Saturday, 19 November 2011


Lost innocence
Broken by tomorrows
Of what were and never will be
Fading into nothingness
Probing eyes
Touching waiting wanting
Silent cries escape
Bound by time
Longing for time
to stop
Disappearing into emptiness
Shattered broken glass
Shadows appear and retreat
Hiding behind veils
Screaming unheard sounds

Thursday, 10 November 2011

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Well Trained

I married my first husband when I was 16. I was about 21-22 before I realized the "love" we shared was more that of master and servant than husband and wife. I would be 26 when I told him to fuck off for the last time and divorced his ass.  However today there are still signs of my training. Signs that I never notice. Signs that I can't break even if I wanted to. They have become a part of me and will probably remain with me until I turn to dust. They are who I am and are unchangeable. 

They become most noticeable when my husband asks for a cup of tea. He doesn't like the cup to be filled to the top, but my training DEMANDS the hot liquid be level with the top of the cup. The slightest of a fraction below is an insult to the person I hand the cup to. Even though I know my current husband PREFERS to not have his cup full, he never yells. He simply accepts the cup, says thank you and drinks. Occasionally he will simply say "make it just a half cup this time please" but it's only on rare occasions and he knows he won't get a half cup, but he asks anyways. Because maybe that time I'll be able to give him the half cup he has asked for. Except it's never half full. Although I have gotten slightly better. Now it will be slightly not to the top but not quite half way. It's taken me four years to get to the point where I can do that without my throat closing in panic or my hands shaking because "I made the tea wrong". 

I don't know if I'll ever break my training. I don't know if it'll ever leave me. I was very young when it started and it has wrapped itself around me in ways I don't even realize. There are aspects of it I love and don't want to change, but even though I like the action, it still makes me shiver whenever I realize the reason WHY I MUST perform it. It isn't my love for it that drives me. It is the training.

Signs I'm Breaking

It started about six months ago. Slowly at first. I barely even noticed it and then as the weeks passed it became increasingly hard to ignore. The pain, the shortness of breath, the tightness, the flailing and whining that would occur until I vomited the water like substance that insisted upon having its freedom. Some people would call this heartburn or gerd or acid reflux. I don't know what the hell it is but I know I use to not be this old. I started cutting foods from my diet and considering my diet pretty much only consisted of chick peas, lentils, rice and potatoes there wasn't much to cut out.One by one I eliminated foods until I was eating nothing but bananas and apples with the occasional spoon ful of peanut butter and still the heart burn continued. Raging heart burn. Which just pissed me off that I was being held hostage by this shitty little acid that liked to climb up my throat. 

Me who once pulled a two inch piece of metal out of my foot and then duct taped it up and went on my way like nothing happened while my husband sat watching in horror and nearly passed out when the blood gushed from my foot as I yanked the metal out. Yes that me was being held hostage by a pain that was beyond what I could imagine and it pissed me off. I had to know WHAT  was causing it and then three days ago realization occurs. Tea. Yes, TEA. WTH am I THAT old? Tea is giving me heart burn. The one and only pleasure I look forward to each day. I count the minutes until I can have my precious sweet elixir of heaven and the bastard is trying to kill me. So yea I no longer am drinking my daily cup of tea and am NOT happy about it but I am however heart burn free. We shall see how long this lasts.


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