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.

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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!!!

 

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.

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.

distracted from the Darkness

I have been having something scheduled for almost everyday.  back to my old “keep busy to distract the Mind” trick.  because when I’m not doing something, when I don’t have music or work or people to distract me, my thoughts get Dark again.  “I wonder what would happen if I drove into oncoming traffic.”  “I wonder how long of a fall it is off that bridge.”  “I wonder it would feel like to have my wrists slit open.”  Dark, dangerous thoughts.

thoughts I will not act on, granted.  at least, not while properly medicated.  and this is why I take my medication.  this is why I have such a cocktail that I must take — to keep from obeying the Dark thoughts.

because life is generally pointless.  I’m an American, and I’m watching my country fall apart at the hands of a bigoted piece of shit.  who, mind you, is also trying to start a war with another country.  hurricanes and earthquakes are destroying this continent.  and that’s just the fun stuff on a large scale.

everyday, people are hurting others.  sure, there’s a lot of good stuff and “pay it forwards” that happen too, and these just don’t show up in the stories as often.  I understand that; I took journalism classes.  however, I can’t handle the input of only negative shit every day.

and then there’s the Darkness in my mind, a force that somehow prevents me from experiencing joy sometimes.  a power that mutates comments into insults and gazes into glares.  a force that has me totally retracting from my partner for fear of worsening his life.

yeah, that’s the third level.  the personal level.  I can’t recall what exactly set it off, or if it was a single thing at all.  but I’ve started pushing Brian away some.  I don’t really know what to say on this matter.  I just feel like trusting him make me weak, and I need to stand on my own some.  I’ve become a limp noodle.  I need to act as if there is no net beneath me.

I have no witty or insightful closing for this post.  I’m tired and hungry, and I can’t think.  so I’ll end just like this.

happy birthday to me

it’s here. happy birthday to me, I suppose. I survived another year of living with myself, of beating myself up and despising who I am and what I haven’t accomplished.

a friend has to postpone birthday hangouts last night. instead, a different friend came over last night and gave me a few gifts. I skipped the gym this morning. I have had a few wishes her at work; I’ve received a few texts from my Louisiana folk too. then there’s an unrelated work hangout this afternoon. in the evening, I’m going to Noodles and Company with a third friend; he will probably pay, knowing him. then tonight I’ll cry myself to sleep. Saturday, Brian will take me to dinner and to see Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. at some point, I know I’ll get a gift from another friend who always sends something.

 

I wanted to cry when I woke up this morning. I really hoped that my gift from The-Powers-That-Be would be my not waking up finally. alas.

my sleeping issues have returned. I’m not sure what’s up with that. I mentioned to Brian about going back to a sleep specialist, and he agreed that it was a good idea.

my depression is worse, too; but that typically happens around my birthday.

I haven’t been to therapy in several months. she had a health issue that kept her out of work. she wants to meet Sep 2. I liked what work we were doing when we were actually doing it. but her constantly cancelling and rescheduling appointments was a real pain, and I had decided that I wouldn’t go back. but now, with the state I’m in, maybe I should. for now, at least. …man, I dunno.

I got a UTI last week. haven’t been back to my kickboxing since then. I know that’s not helping my mood any. I also ran out of my fibro and my axiety meds two weeks ago. so that’s taking a toll.

 

overall things should be great for me. but I’m crazy, and things are not good in my Mind.

so yeah. happy birthday to me.