Two less

Two less people in the world.
Two less people who smiled, laughed, cared...

Two people who lost the battle this weekend.

My heart is broken, my mind is a mess. I don't know how to stop this. Could I have stopped these two?


Reach out. Reach inside yourself and find your strength. Sometimes strength is just eating, or moving from the bed to the couch. Take care of yourself and to hell with other people. Good for the marathon runners, business owners, mothers and fathers...but if you woke up today you are winning.

hmm

I secretly want to be a writer. I want to write about myself at least. That makes me sound like an egomaniac, but I just want to tell my story. I want my shit to help someone know they are not alone.
I keep this blog because I keep losing my current journals. I still have a lot though, I think the earliest is from 1991, so I was six. Rereading them is funny and painful at the same time. I was so angry for awhile. Mad at God, mad at the world, and mostly myself. I have come to a stalemate with God, and I have adjusted to the reality of never being who or what I want to be.

I might be a hypochondriac. I feel like I jump to conclusions about my health. I have had intermittent pain in my right breast for a few months. I still have a knot in my leg from when I hit it with a hammer a month ago.

My scars (literal and figurative) do not have to define me.

putting this here because I can't find my journal

"I live in the tension between extremes."

This will be the subtitle of my book.

I'm emotional tonight.
I am 34 and on disability because if I worked full time I'd probably end up in the hospital. Again. (unless I was an otter fluffer or cat cuddler)

I give all or nothing. I can't find normal.

Count your blessings, name them one by...oh look! A kitty!

Sometimes it is hard to think positive.
My hair is falling out due to stress so when I start to feel overwhelmed I distract myself...

I have an apartment (which is a serious mess).
I have a job (the department is drowning and I am responsible for too much, and accountable for other peoples' mistakes)
Kitties! ( mine won't cutddle, I admire the strays across the street (that need to be TNR'd)
Art (when was the last time I did anything. The gallery is going to drop me. I have too much shit everywhere)
Boyfriend (probably thinks I'm lazy, fat, weird)
Family (I don't see them enough, they spoil me)




I think the worst is when my mind can't connect with my body.

way too much information

Soooo...
I have HPV. The scary strain. Two scary strains actually.
I had a colposcopy a few days ago and I have "precancerous cells."
Now I get to have a LEEP procedure...

"LEEP stands for Loop Electrosurgical Excision Procedure. It's a treatment that prevents cervical cancer. A small electrical wire loop is used to remove abnormal cells from your cervix. LEEP surgery may be performed after abnormal cells are found during a Pap test, colposcopy, or biopsy."

 This is TMI but I don't think anyone reads this anymore and I need an outlet.

assault I guess

The first time was in college. We went to swim at the lake at night (yeah, I know...a bad decision by me). He pulled the bottom of my swimsuit down. Later, he 'taught' me some 'state' game, where he put his hand on my thigh and said "guess what state I'm in." Every wrong guess meant he moved his hand up my thigh.

Next(ish) was a snow day. Some people in my apartment complex hit a sign and woke me (and probably everyone) up. I went out to check on them. They invited me to come over. There was alcohol. A guy walked me home (about 20 feet), then invited himself in. He kissed me and stuck his hand down my pants.



These were at least fifteen and seven years ago.

I didn't get that it was "wrong." I just knew I didn't want it to happen.


More to come, unfortunately....

L is for the way you lie to me...

"People say they love you, but what they mean is, they love how loving you makes them feel about themselves. Or they love what they can take from you."
-To the Bone

 I don't love well. I throw money at things. Money I don't have. Debit that I don't care about because it's too scary and I'm pretty sure I'll kill myself by the time I'm sixty. So why fall in love? I can't even be a good friend. I'm actually a pretty terrible friend.

 "Stop waiting for life to be easy. Stop hoping for somebody to save you. You don’t need another person lying to you. Things don’t all add up. But you are resilient. Face some hard facts and you could have an incredible life."

what is force?

 "You're manipulating the situation in a way that gives no one a way out. That's force. Look it up."

Gilmore girls season one, episode 3 "Kill Me Now"
Totally taken out of context but this is my life right now.

Something happened, with a guy...It scared me.
I am fine, I handled it.

But emotionally I'm a little messed up. My recall is fuzzy (screw you angry orchard). On the same night I was an asshole to a guy I am lucky to call a friend. I hate myself for that. I hate that I got myself in this kind of situation.

I said no when it was time...and I physically followed through (hence my soreness). I stood up for myself. I stopped something that could have ended terribly.




I can't deal, but I'm telling everyone I'm ok. I'm a f*#king liar.
I think "call E, go sleep on her couch," but I can't. All I do is sleep.

Rawr. A rant.

So many facebook posts are about "faith in humanity restored" and feature an old person or someone with special needs. Why is it news when we are kind? Why are we shocked? Why do we ask for congratulations for treating humans like humans? Yes, it's great that you did something compassionate, but I wish that it were the norm, not a news-worthy exception.

Fail

Cleaning, consolidating...

Should I file my SSI paperwork under "f" for "fuck up," or "l" for "loser,..." Hmmmm...
Perhaps "s" for "shame?"

Story? What Story?

This article explains a lot of what I wish I could say.

"If the situation of our story is historic we may be tempted to shape the story to a presentable narrative arc with redemption and a happy ending which may not represent the reality of the problem for others." 

"While we applaud people for their bravery in sharing their personal stories, we often forget to continue to applaud their bravery for dealing with the results."

I am stuck in the in between.

I am not well, but I am not broken.

I can be paralyzed by a panic attack one day and having a dance party with my cat the next.

I can smile, interact with people, and even be funny. But the truth is, I'd rather not be alive (please understand that this is not the same as being suicidal).

This is my normal, I have trouble understanding why people are afraid to die. I lie awake at night wishing I could take the place of a mom dying of cancer.

So yeah, I want to tell my story, but it isn't finished. But I am more than my dark days.

[as are you]

I should be afraid to die, right?

"Maybe, you have to be dying to understand. But there’s this thing that happens where death stops being scary. What starts being scary is hope, because it's not true."  

I still have hope, but I also understand reality. I may never stop feeling like this, and that's ok. There is a purpose that I may never know.

Dying doesn't scare me. It'd be kinda nice I think. Apparently that's not normal.

Survivors

People who have cancer but fight for remission are called survivors.

People who have a loved one commit suicide are also called survivors.

What about those who have fought the darkness and haven't ended it? What do we call them?
Fighters? Lucky? Dead Men Walking?

I will never, EVER blame someone for killing themselves. I don't admire them, but I get it.
Somehow I'm still here.

Last year I went to the ASFP's Out of the Darkness Walk. At this one table they had markers and paper asking, "Why are you walking?"
     I wrote "because I'm still here."

The tension between morning, understand, and fighting is strong.

I don't have answers.

Saving Lives

Today I had to refill my anti-depressants. This lady and her daughter were in line ahead of me. The daughter (teenage) started talking about how she wouldn't want to work in a place like this (mental heath clinic), she wanted to save lives. 
Her mom replied, "You don't think these people save lives?"
For her sake, I hope she never has to find out just how life saving these doctors and medicines are.

Thoughts Now That I'm Old

I frequently think "I wish I could move to Orlando and be a part of City Beautiful...or Chicago with Jarrett Stevens...Especially my second fam and One...

But maybe I'm here for a reason. Ten-ish years ago I was planning for a future in France with a dog.  But after puking my guts out in a hotel in Paris I had doubts. A few years later I got sicker than a dog in Indonesia.

A professor wisely told me "If God calls you, he calls your stomach too."


After college my world fell apart.


So I'm here...recovering from and fighting against depression. Trying not to take a blade to my skin. Trying (and failing) not to isolate.

I want to help people. I want to love people. But I also want to be alone. My introversion is ridiculous. And I hate it. I feel so guilty because I feel called to connect with other hurting people...but mostly I just want to hide.

I keep thinking about the phrase "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." It's not exactly hell I'm afraid of, it's missing my purpose because I'm too wrapped up in myself. I don't want my broken mind and soul to stop me from spreading the love that I know exists, even when I don't feel it.

oh, it's June...

Sorry things have been so dark.

I'm ok...not great, but functioning and I still have a bit of hope.

I'm getting old, and that's scary. Not aging really, just realizing that I still don't have anything figured out.

I want the world to be better, but sometimes/usually I just want to be alone.
How can I make a difference as a hermit?

How do I love from a distance?



It's June...and that makes me worry about my friend June. Is she alright? Where's she staying? Is she sober?

Mr. Sandman and I are at war

I haven't slept well in nearly 2 months.  Benadryl, ativan, melatonin, klonopin, audiobooks...nothing works.  Last night I started contemplating ways to hang myself because I was so miserable and out of my mind.  I called my mom around 2am, weeping, but still no luck.  Finally I went outside, rode my bike a bit, pitched a tent and finally slept a couple hours.  Came back in around 7 and "slept" til noon.

This is not normal, and definitely not ok.

things are wrong and the breaks are beating the boys

So, uh, February...
I want my money back.

I won't say it was all bad; my physical health is improving, I'm more nocturnal than narcoleptic lately, which isn't "normal," but really, it is. But while my physical health was improving, my mental/emotional health took a nose-dive. I didn't really admit it until after I'd taken inventory of my medicine cabinet and spent awhile pondering if the various remainders in those seven or eight bottles would be enough or if I'd just end up stuck with a ridiculous hospital bill (that possibility was more of a deterrent than anything else).

Life is hard enough when I'm doing well, but when things get dark and life gets complicated, its nearly impossible. Its during these times that Romans 8:26 becomes so real:

We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.

I haven't been a fun person to be around in awhile, but I now know who my wheat is. And even though I'm disappointed to discover that some are more like chaff, I'm also more aware of my own tendency to let relationships drift when they aren't fun or personally beneficial to me. Community comes through action, refusing to settle into the passive "out of sight, out of mind" attitude that comes naturally. I'm learning that this thing we call Christianity isn't a before-and-after deal, but thats how we want to portray it. "Oh, I have Jesus, everything is fine now." That's such a lie, completely denying the need for a continuous relationship with the One who gives the grace. This journey, the process of becoming, that is where we live.

"I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us."
-Anne Lamott

"We will mess up, we will hold on when we should have let go. We will walk when we should have ran, We will go when we should have stayed. We will hurt others when we should have loved, but God forgives, He forgets and best of all, He restores.”

perspective

I feel that my attention span is getting smaller as I'm getting older.  I have dozens of unfinished posts from the past few months that will probably never be published.  Why is it so hard for me to finish things?  When I cleaned my living room (should probably just call it the shop) I collected so many unfinished projects.  My bathroom wall was abandoned before I even primed.  Even now, as I type, there are three or four dishes sitting is soapy water, waiting for me to come back and rinse. 

I have such great intentions, but my follow-through rate is pitiful.

But, let's put this in perspective...
A year ago I started a new job.  During the two months prior to that I was unemployed and beyond depressed.  By July of 2008 I'd lost count of the different medicines I'd tried that year.  Nothing worked.  I slept, cried, cut, and slept some more, all the while overwhelmed by a desperate desire to end it.
It was bad.  You don't even know.  [And for that matter, I don't even know.  My mind blocks out most memories from that fark days]


So, the books that pile up, unfinished, the laundry that waits to be hung, the four month old unsent birthday cards. . . its all going to be ok .  I have a [seriously] long way to go, but I'm moving in the right direction.

not much goes as planned

What was supposed to be two weeks has turned into 20 days (and counting). The delay is due to waiting on results from some blood tests. The first tests showed I am "really anemic" (my doc's words) and vitamin D deficient. There's still some confusion as to whether or not my thyroid was tested, so I may get to go in again, and get stuck a third time.

It hasn't been easy, but it honestly hasn't been as hard as I feared.
Apparently God is bigger than detox...



Meds or no meds, life does go on. . . a better update to come, hopefully...