soaking

in the tub. with my cell. with bubbles and epsom salt. with hot and hoefully healing waters.

in my self-hatred and concern. about my skills set and capabilities. about if my creativity is even alive anymore. about my cage called “a body”.

in my longing. for the sun. to be outside. to have a group of friends. to host shindigs. to have a home again.

in my fear. of my personal future. of what this president is doing to the whole world. of my career. of never being happy again. of being stuck in this state.

in hopelessness. because nothing will  change soon enough. because I will never like, much less love, myself. because I will never truly write again.

in the tub. with cold water now. without anymore bubbles or full grains of salt. without any sense of peace that this was supposed to give me.

soaking.

Advertisements

can’t do this

I CAN’T DO THIS.

I’m tired of the NOISE.  so tired of THE LOUD-ASS NOISE THAT FUCKING ECHOES IN  YOUR GODDAMN HEART.  IN YOUR FUCKING MIND.

We throw tantrums like parties.
We’re not happy ’til everyone knows we’re SICK.
And that’s just how we like it.
We’ve hurt Bad enough, right?  We’ve Earned it.
Don’t tell the others, but it’s all getting old.
you can hear It.  It Breathes against you.  It Breathes in spite of you.  you are merely a Pawn in Its creation.
I mean, how many more times must our stories be told?
And being lonely’s only fun in a group;
It sort of loses it’s charm when it’s true.
you can’t do anything against its noise and chaos and pain and hate and loudness and rage and anxiety and compulsions and noise and paranoia and eating disorders and thoughts and opinions and concerns and just everything.  there is too much.  and the Mind never stops.  NEVER STOPS.
So now you know all my secrets.
I want out; I know I don’t need this.
Can you find me friends that don’t rank me on what I’ve been through?
The more battle scars, the more attention it gets you.
Don’t tell the others, but it’s all getting old.
but I Like it; rather I  Need it.  I hold on to it.  I don’t move past it.  because I’m scared about what’s beyond me, what’s More than me, what is -Without Me-.
I meant it when I said,
“I wanna get well! I wanna get well!”
Are the rest of you so content?
Stay where you are, but it hurts like hell.
And I’m sure it’s fun at first;
test your pulse, and check your vitals.
If it’s only a Game, you lost me.
I quit it with the Suicidal Recital.

shit.  I can’t even pretend I know the original direction this post was going in…..
I was lost.  hopeless.  depressed.  so many of those Old and Comforting Feelings I had.  but Brian suggested I Write instead of mope.  Write.  how often do I Write anymore?  and what of that which I Write even matters anymore?  I mean, none of it really.  at least back then, it was the Truth as per a small child whose life was important.  now I’m adult who’s thrown off on her own and matters not.
Yeah, we should’ve known it would End this way.
What did you expect? — pretend it all Away?
And all we’ve got left is a sorry pile of hearts.
I’m getting out — gonna write myself a new Start.
Come on, dry your eyes, meet me on the other side.
Run as fast as you can, and we’ll make it out alive.
We know better now; we don’t have to live like This.
Go tell them all we don’t have to live like This.

SURPRISE ME.

let me go.
let me FREE.

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/Z9fGKx7yzF4?rel=0

let me not wake tomorrow.

I’m tired of this Battle again.

it’s the same War I’ve been fighting for so long.

LET ME GO!!!

 

still Noisy, but less loud

been exactly a month since that last post.  not on purpose.  just how it works sometimes.

things are still Noisy in my Mind.

the Voices are coming back; although they are overall innocent.  they don’t give directions so much as they just talk amongst themselves.  chatty cathys are all they really are; basically harmless.

it’s the Noise that’s the problem.  and yes, that’s different.  Voices that give instructions are part of the Noise.  my own self-hatred and repetitive berating, my high pitch sound that whines in my head, the static that fuzzes over my attempts to escape — that’s all part of the Noise.  sometimes music can contribute to the Noise.

I can’t hardly handle it.  I’m supposed to take medication when it gets too bad. but how often will I admit that?  and many times, it gets really Noisy while I’m at work.  so yeah, let’s see about taking one of my klonopins or such then…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in other news, I am physically ill.  I seem to have a generic winter cold.  the snow up here has been quite beautiful, however.  and we may be going to celebrate Christmas with the same family that offered us a Thanksgiving last year.  truly kind and welcoming people they are.

Christmas cards are going to be very late this year, lol.  I’ll make a post with more details about all that later tonight or tomorrow.  I’ll be collecting addresses there too.  but in the meantime, we’re:  Brian, James, and Zero; 200 Nathan Ln N, Apt 111; Plymouth, MN 55441-6466  😉

that’s all for now.  maybe something more informative later…..

WELL HELLO, CRAZY NOISE

WELL HELLO, CRAZY NOISE!!
> THANKS FOR CHECKING IN.

SO YOU THINK WE SHOULD SLICE OUR ARMS AND BLEED, JUST TO PROVE WE ARE ALIVE?
> okay.

SO WE SHOULD SLIT OUR NECK ACROSS ITSELF TO SHOW OUR OWN STRENGTH AND DETERMINATION?
> sounds great.

OR MAYBE I CAN JUST JUMP INTO TRAFFIC, DRIVE INTO THE ONCOMING, OR SHOOT OURSELVES OFF THE CLIFF.
>  perfect plan.

_____________________________________________

did you disagree?  because I didn’t?

I suspect tomorrow will be fine.

but I’m seriously running out of “bad days” that don’t get logged as “last days”.

____________________________________________

SEE ALSO:

the Final Day is ideal,

desired,

perfect,

heavenly,

HOPE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

please allow it to come soon … or even better ASAP…..

blub blub…

I have 64 words for NaNo so far.  and that’s all just from editing and adding words to older work.  none of it is totally fresh content.  because I have no fresh content in my brain.  I can’t think.  I’m too tired all the time.  I either have something else scheduled at the time, or I don’t have something else scheduled and therein opt to just sleep.

I almost made it to kickboxing this morning.  I got dressed and packed up.  I was fighting off a breakdown the whole time.  then, when it was time to put on shoes and go out the door, I just cracked.  I started bawling.  by the time I gathered myself enough to leave, it was too late and would cause me to be truant.  so I cried all over again.  then Brian eventually coerced me into going to the apartment’s gym and just walking on the treadmill at a stroll for 15 minutes.  and then I tucked my tail between my legs as I shuffled back to the apartment, defeated.  he congratulated and said he was proud of me.  he reiterated that “something is better than nothing”.  but all I could think of is how “a lot is more than something”.

I was legit tardy to work yesterday.  I couldn’t wake up; I couldn’t function.  I was so fatigued, it was beyond words.  and it’s not like I stayed up late on Sunday or anything.  maybe it was the time change Sunday morning.  maybe it’s just my body shutting down.  but it caused me to be late to a point of disciplinary action.  I mean, it’s just earning points towards a larger avoidable balance (think golf).  but hey, any points is more than no points.  and I got some points for being truant yesterday.  ugh.

I’m really falling apart.  I don’t know how to keep above water, much less start actually swimming again.

success…?

I’ve managed to go to work every day this week.  I haven’t gone to the gym at all, granted.  but I went to work.  and I actually got some work done.  not much; not as much as I’d like or as I should have — but some.

I haven’t cut.  I haven’t had a night of drinking myself into oblivion.  I’ve stopped eating, for a large part; but I’m not binging.

it’s snowing sideways here.  the weather has much more energy than I.  I took the elevator to go up one floor.

I’m not doing well.

I meet with my therapist tomorrow.  maybe she can help me figure some of it out.

running out of Spoons

I have no Spoons.  I’m exhausted, and I have no interest in anything.

just three or so days ago, I was elated with how awesome my life was turning out.  things were really on the upswing.

and now, I’m back down at the bottom, barely able to stay above water.

I guess that’s bipolar for ya.  rapid cycling is a bitch.  not only are the ups and downs are in and of themselves, but they are fucking exhausting just as they are.  you don’t need to throw in the depression and apathy or the risky behaviour and police collisions.  just the up and down alone is enough to cause a person to fall flat on the floor and never move again.

I can’t do this Adult thing.  I’m running out of Spoons to even do this Human thing.  I really want to just curl up on the floor in a sunspot and take a nap.

my eating disorder is getting loud again.  I’m skipping meals more often, and I’m pigging out more often too.  I don’t know how best to approach the whole thing at this point.  I really think I’m going to go back to making sandwiches and keeping my life simple for a while.  I don’t have the Spoons to spare to worry about something be paleo or high in carbs or having too much sugar.  I just don’t.