Rotten To The Core

So apparently I'm spoiled. Yea I know I was just as shocked too. I had always thought spoiled meant this:

What? You did too? Well you're wrong. That is NOT what spoiled is. Spoiled is buying a $200 appliance from the store, bringing it home, unpacking it, and finding out that it DOESN'T FUCKING WORK, and then saying to your husband, "can we take it back and exchange it because it doesn't work properly?"

Yes THAT is spoiled. Oh and want to know what else is spoiled? When eating certain foods make you puke your guts out for hours and days on end so you don't eat those foods. You instead eat foods that don't make you puke your innards outwards. That is also spoiled. 

You're welcome for the educational lessons. I accept donations for this exceptional service. Email me for paypal details.

Oh and blogger? You and Facebook can kiss my ass with all your fucked up changes. I don't like the new blogger thing and I don't like the new Facebook and I realize neither of you care what I like but I'm spoiled so I'm fucking telling you anyways. Suck on them donkey balls. 

Cycling Without Training Wheels

I'm cycling into manic. I can feel it. I haven't been sleeping properly for about 4 days now. My thoughts racing. Constant. Ever changing. The need to be moving. Doing. Something. Even if only mentally. Constantly in motion. Never stilling. Never calming. 

During these times I do stupid shit. Like stalk my ex's on FB. I told  you it was stupid. 

I look at them and their lives. I see how they just went on without me. Happy. Living. Loving. Laughing. Breathing. Never missing a beat. And I feel jealous.

Not of the ones they're with because I sincerely do NOT want to be with THEM particularly. I just feel jealous of the life they have. I feel jealous they have a life and I have nothing. 

I know that's not true. I have Jigger and a roof over my head. I have food to eat everyday and in many ways I'm richer than most people. 

But..there's always a but...

It's not easy. It's not the life I want. I love Jigger but not the way I should. There's no passion. No fire. No excitement. I love him because he helps me to conquer the beast and as I type this it breaks my heart to know that I will never be IN love with him. I would never leave him, but a part of me aches that it will never have that passion. That fire. That love that I see between those I stalk. 

I want that. I want someone to be obsessively in love with me. To be consumed by the thought of me. In my whole life I've never had that. Even Jigger doesn't love me like that. In many ways I think he feels sorry for me. He pities me. 

I don't want pity. I want fire and passion and excitement. Not manic passion, but just to feel alive. To know that there is one person in the world whose NEED for survival is me. 

I'll never have that. I have to accept that. But it still hurts. It hurts to admit this to myself because I deny it even within the confines of my spinning mind. I refuse to allow these thoughts to circumnavigate because if I allow them to even for a moment they'll make me spin out of control, but no matter how hard I try they're still there. And I torture myself by watching others. By seeing their lives and how they are. 

And I wonder why couldn't that have been me?

The Tickle

In the back of my brain. It's starting. It's not as strong as before, but it's there. Taunting me. Teasing me. I keep trying to ignore it. Continuously repeating the mantra of "everything is ok do not panic there is nothing that is going to hurt  you". If I repeat this enough, then the tickle remains quiet.

I don't know why it happens. Why suddenly out of nowhere I start to feel like chicken little and "holy shit we have to get to turkey lurkey or the whole world will fucking explode and there will be no turkey and dressing for you". This panic tickle has caused me to make a mess of my life. When it comes I usually react to it, like my life is in mortal danger when it's not. I react to something that isn't there and then create something I can't get my way out of. Digging myself deeper into the rabbit hole. 

Now I'm not so deep in the hole and I know the tickle isn't real, but there's another tickle now the "what-if-so-just-in-case" tickle. It scares me. Makes me want to listen to the panic tickle because what if it is real and I'm just so use to telling myself it isn't. A vicious cycle. 

Before I was alone. I had no central point to focus on to figure out if the panic tickle was real or if I should ignore it. Now I have people like Sam and Jigger around me. When the tickle comes I look at them. They keep me grounded. Focused. Breathing. They let me know when it's time to run.

Can You Hear Me Now

I'm loud. I don't mean to be.I do have an inside voice. Majority of the time people have to ask me to repeat myself because I speak so lowly. But sometimes when I feel safe and free, when I'm emotional, even happy emotional, I get loud. I don't mean to. I don't know why that is. Jigger  thinks I'm "yelling". I try to watch it. To always be aware of how many decibels are exiting my mouth at any given moment, but that's exhausting. Like trying to walk a tight rope made out of egg shells. Sometimes I forget. 

To be aware. 

And the decibels leak out and Jigger thinks I'm yelling at him and he gets angry and "yells" back. Which causes me to actually start yelling. I don't know why this happens. It's another one of those life isn't fair moments. Where I pout and whine and stomp off to the corner wondering why it is I'm being forced into the world's concepts of right and wrong. So what if I leak more decibels than you. Why shouldn't I be allowed to? In my own home? In my own room? Why am I monitored within the confines of my own four walls? 

Because that's life. So I'm aware and I count the decibels because Jigger puts up with all of the temper tantrums. So for him I count the decibels.

Friend or Foe

In my world, there is only black or white. You're either friend or foe. I trust you or I don't. There is no middle ground no room for error. If you're able to walk the tight rope and cross over into friendom, then I constantly fear I've "misjudged" you. That you're really a foe and at any moment you're going to show your truth hidden within. 

This is all in my head. A battle of good vs evil that replays itself constantly. Even when the person hasn't done anything wrong I push them so hard and make them jump through so many hoops they eventually walk away because seriously who has time to put up with it and to constantly prove themselves to be something they're not. But then when they walk away I shout "ah-ha knew it" they were foe. But there is a hollowness in that victory. 

As irrational as all of this is I know it and while I"m working on controlling it, at times it controls me. Even though I know it's all irrational the what if game always wins. "What if I'm wrong", the earth will spin off its axis and we'll all be plunged into the sun and everyone will be melted and it'll be all my fault.

All. MY. Fault. This thought is embedded in my DNA thanks to my father. The many gifts he's bestowed upon me all of these years. My parents divorced because of his alcoholism and abuse. They divorced because I ran away to my grandparents and refused to live with them. My mother reluctantly divorced him. It was all my fault. Which is why he tried to kill me several times. All my fault. 

Even today, any wrong in the world no matter how far removed from me it is, I feel responsible. I feel I have to fix it to correct it. Then I'll be "good" again, but it doesn't ever work out that way. 

I'm not sure why all of these things are coming up now. I've been having nightmares this past week. Haven't had them in awhile either. Whenever the nightmares come, they fuck with my head for awhile. Then they disappear and I tend to settle down and be less irrational. Take enough sleeping pills and not even Freddie can get you.

Prioritizing Distractions

My brain never turns off. Not even during sleep. It's constantly going. Never tiring. Never ceasing to function. Constantly processing thoughts and ideas and ways and whatifs and whatnots and maybes and shouldve's or wouldve's. An endless vortex of synapses firing sparks into a pit of nothingness. 

Occasionally these sparks drift down out of the crazy half of my brain into the small somewhat normal part, and when this happens, if you're close enough to me you can actually see the little light bulb appear over my mind and see Wile E. Coyote run by. I get ideas the way others get gas after eating beans. I'm constantly starting projects that are "totally awesome omg I have to do this" only for a few days to pass and the high to fade. That's when the realization of "this isn't quite what I really wanted to do sets in and the project gets scrapped". 

Now I have several ideas. Actual real to goodness ideas of things that not only ignite the crazy who is easily distracted and bored but ideas that have ignited the not so crazy part of my brain. The part that says "this is a really great idea. We like this. Let's do it." The only problem with this is that the crazy part is spitting out ideas faster than the non crazy can implement them. Kinda like when Lucy took that job in the factory on the conveyor belt and she couln't keep up. I'm Lucy in this scenario in case you're not following that well. 

I really want to do all of the things in my head. What is even more bizarre is the fact I have no doubt in my ability to accomplish these things and to possibly have a bit of success in them. What is tripping me up is that I need to prioritize, pick one project, begin on it, and work on it until I get it rolling. Then start the second project. Except I don't quite work like that. I get bored my ADD kicks in and I need something shiny new to play with. It takes ALOT to keep my mind active and non bored. Not alot of gossip or "omg did you see what  she was wearing" but real thoughts, real conversations, REAL things. 

So now I'm left trying to figure out which of these ideas to pull out first. Which to begin on until my brain can't work on it any longer, then I'll start the second. I know I'll be working on these various projects simultaneously, but I need to figure out a way that I can actually get a couple of them completed relatively quickly without fucking them royally. This is much more difficult than it sounds. Kinda like going to juggling school and on your first day the teacher throws you a chain saw, an egg, and a baby and says "GO!". Which one do you drop?

Triggers Not the Horse

Knowing your triggers. Absolute must for anyone with any sort of bipolar, BPD, PTSD, anxiety and more big medical words I don't know or have forgotten to mention. Triggers are to insanity what peanuts are to allergies. Know your triggers and avoid them or at least have 911 on speed dial so you hit the button before going into anaphylaxis shock. Yes, they're that bad. 

Triggers. I have many. Some I know. Some are hidden. Some sneak up on me when I'm not looking. I try to avoid them, but somehow they always find my hiding places. The last two days I've been triggering HARD. My safety nets were being pulled from under me. Even though they aren't real safety nets, they're actually harmful to me. In all truth, my so called safety nets are one of my biggest triggers. Fear, rejection, and abandonment. 

Yesterday the perfect storm was created. A long time friend who in many ways has helped me and in many ways not, I confronted. I stood up for myself. I refused to be treated like a steaming pile of dog shit he was scrapping off his shoe, but for ten years he's my one and only friend. The only person my insanity hasn't driven away. Even though he was at times verbally abusive, I clung to him because he was always there. I didn't fear him leaving me. Abandoning me. If that meant being called names, told I was stupid, and used, then that was ok. Because I wasn't alone. 

Except now I have started surrounding myself with people who don't use me, don't abuse me. Who respect me. Who see my flaws, my  broken pieces, and accept them. Who look over the frazzled me and see what lies underneath, and I like that. I don't want to be treated like dogshit anymore even if it means I'm alone. I'd rather be alone than be someone's dogshit. But still it's a trigger. 

Then there are normal worries, financial worries, that pretty much every person who sucks oxygen on this planet has, but when you put those worries inside of a mind that works overtime they become blown out of proportion. So I fight to keep my grip on reality. While things aren't great, they're not that bad either. While some things haven't worked out exactly like I wanted, they are at least working and I'm constantly looking for other ways of gaining income. At the very least I don't feel entitled. I don't feel that it is ok to sit on my ass while others support me. I might have little but it's all fucking mine and I worked through insanity to get it. It's mine fuckers and you can't have it. 

So I'm on a bit of a roller coaster. I'll have to start taking sleeping pills today. I've been awake for two days now. Not good. Not sleeping is definitely a sign. So today I'll take little pink tablets with my grape juice so my mind will slow at least enough for my eyes to close and for a few moments the ping pongs bouncing inside my head will lay quietly on the floor. Shhhh......

Even My Dreams Aren't Normal

So I have to write this down because I'll seriously forget it and it's too bizarre to forget. I don't dream. I never have not really. Maybe it's because I don't usually fall deep enough into sleep to dream or that I fall asleep with some major narcotics in my system and sleep so deeply the dreams sort of fade away upon waking up, but for the most part I don't dream. Last night however I did. I only remember the end part of. About 4 secs in time of it, but it was so fucking weird that it woke me up with a "wtf was that all about" coming out of my mouth. 

I dreamed I was updating my Facebook status and for the 3-4 of you who happen to be my "friends" on Facebook you know I haven't actually signed into Facebook in months let alone updated my status. Doesn't seem too weird, right? Well my status update said, "FYI to all my co-workers who are visiting me. You can still visit if you're lactose intolerant. Just because I'm breastfeeding the baby doesn't mean I pass out samples when you all come to visit. Unless of course the price of diapers goes up, then I'll be freezing that shit and selling it as ice cream." 

I shit you not that is what it said. I have no idea what part of my subconcious mind that came from but it was full on weird. Just weird. Anyways not what this was suppose to be about. It was suppose to be about mania and how I'm sitting on the edge of a major manic episode.

I can feel it's familiar tickle up my spine, the panic slowly starting to whirl and twirl through my veins. I can the 3 normal brain cells trying to calm the other 3000 down and telling them it's ok. Don't panic. Everything is ok, but they're not listening. I have worked very hard to get where I am. I don't want to undo it. A few of my safety nets have been removed this week. Even though they weren't real safety nets, at least I could pretend they were and I've finally cast them aside and I think that is contributing to the frenzy that is building inside of me. 

Panic. It's the worst feeling a person can have. If you're a parent, and you've ever turned around for 3 secs and then turned back and not seen your child standing there, that feeling that starts to rise from the tips of your toes and then courses through your entire body. That is what I feel like inside. For a few moments as the panic rises I'm coherent, I shout my name. Then the panic takes hold and I run around crazy in my underwear for no apparent reason other than the crazy told me to. It doesn't help but it calms me. The part of me that is freaking out. The part of me that is coming unglued because of some minor reason that my brain has magnified into a full on catastrophe. I am my own worst enemy. 

So this time I'm fighting back. Fighting back against the panic that is slowly rising within me. I don't know how much of it I'll be able to hold back before the dam breaks, but hopefully it'll be long enough the damage will be minor and 3 normal brain cells will be able to climb to safety. Hopefully I won't destroy all I've worked so hard to build.